Title Perfect Ending to a Perfect Day
Rating PG
Characters Amber, Taub, Thirteen
Word Count 547
Spoilers 409 - Games
Summary Amber tries to cope with losing.



Before leaving the patient's room, you school your features; just because you made a fool of yourself when House fired you doesn't mean it's okay now. You imagine your eyes are puffy and red, but no one should notice; no one gets that close to you if they can help it.

Leaving the hospital feels like a long walk of shame – you're sure everyone's heard by now, Amber's failed. The looks burning through your skin fall just short of entirely unbearable, because at least you know Thirteen lost, too. Looking at it that way, it almost feels like a victory.

Almost. You were never really one for “close enough,” though.

Just as you reach the exit, you run into Taub. You're surprised to see him, having expected everyone to have left by now, but then again, you know he has a thing for you. “You're just leaving?” he asks.

“Apparently,” you say. He opens the door for you and follows you out. You weren't kidding before – you don't find him particularly attractive, but empty comforts are better than none at all. He said he loves his wife, but you wonder how fast you can get him to stray; it can be a game. You need a win, after all.

“I have to go back to Massachusetts tomorrow,” you tell him as you both approach your car; a job to go back to, at least you have that much. You watch Taub expectantly, trying to see if you can goad him into action by placing a time limit.

His mouth forms an “O” shape, like he's really surprised, and you see his breath in the cold air. He nods. “I see.” He offers his hand, which you reluctantly grasp; a handshake. “It was good knowing you.”

That's it.

You don't know why you're surprised; he's practical, just like you. He's not going to risk his marriage for a one-night stand. But a part of you can't help but think if you had, say, Thirteen's looks, he wouldn't even give it a second thought. All you do in return is nod, not even willing to work up a smile, and get into your car.

Fast food is all you have the energy for, so you stop at the first place you find. The line's short, thankfully; it's one good thing that's happened today. You consider the pitifully small menu.

Then she walks in, of all people; again, you remind yourself that she was fired, too, and you try to ignore her presence as you place your order.

She comes up to you while you wait for your food, looking smug like she always does. It gets under your skin, and you wish it wouldn't. “What are you smiling about?”

“House just called me,” she says.

“Oh? Did he ask you out, too?”

Thirteen shakes her head. “No, better.” Damnit, she has your attention – what could House possibly want with her? She leans in, invading your personal space, as she's prone to do, and whispers, like she's telling you a secret. “I got the job.”

You hate her; at least you can admit to being a bitch.

“Ma'am,” the cashier says, interrupting the conversation. “Here's your order. Have a nice day.”