Disclaimer: Hi, my name is not David Shore or Katie Jacobs. I don't own anything.

A/N: Another story from the vault of Rachel-cuteness. Enjoy it! Much thanks to Melissa for betaing, and Pandorama for the idea.


"Tell me that is not what I think it is."

"Okay." He smirked. "It's not what you think it is."

"House!" Cuddy exclaimed. "I told you Rachel could have a stuffed cat. I didn't say she could have a real one!"

"Must have misheard you," he replied easily. He turned back to his article. "Funny how that happens sometimes."

"This is important," she insisted, pushing the journal away from his face. "We can't take care of a cat – I can't take care of a cat-"

"It's Rachel's cat; she can take care of it."

"She's two."

"Two and a half."

"House-"

"Mommy!" Rachel bounded into the living room and rushed over to Cuddy. "Mommy, Mommy! Look at my toy!"

House caught the look of horror Cuddy threw at him. "See what I mean?"

"Rachel," House said firmly. "A cat is not a toy."

"Not cat," she said, shaking her head. "Kitty!"

Cuddy groaned. "Kittens aren't toys either," House informed her. "Remember? We had this conversation at the pet store. You promised you would take care of the cat if I bought it for you, right?"

"My kitty!" Rachel exclaimed.

"That's right," House said, relieved she was catching on so quickly. "It is your kitty. That means you're going to take care of her, right? You're going to feed her and give her water and clean out the litter box?"

Rachel gave him a blank stare.

"Right?" House repeated. "Come on, Rachel. You promised me. Now you have to promise Mommy, too, or she's going to send the cat back to be euthanized."

"House!" Cuddy glared at him. "I would never do that. Besides, it's a no-kill shelter."

"Yeah, but she doesn't know that," he said, jerking his head in Rachel's direction.

"She also doesn't know what euthanized means," Cuddy hissed.

"I want to see my kitty!" Rachel demanded. "Open box now!"

"Box?" Cuddy repeated, scandalized. "You left the cat in a box? Where is the box? Can it breathe? What the hell were you thinking?"

"Relax," House replied. "They always stick those hairballs in a box for transport, in case you don't want to invest in a proper cat carrier. Besides, there' some tiny air holes at the top. I'm sure it hasn't managed to suck all the air out of the container yet."

Cuddy's eyes widened. "But – where is the box?"

"In the doorway. We left it there to spare the poor animal your tirade. Thought we'd let her out only when the coast was clear."

"You'd better let it out before it suffocates," Cuddy said nervously. "What if something happened? How are you going to explain that to Rachel?"

"You worry too much," he said easily. "Keep it up and someone might think you actually want this mouse-killer to stay with us."

"This is about Wilson, isn't it?" Cuddy asked as they walked down the hall together toward the box, Rachel leading the way. "Wilson got a cat, and now you feel left out, so you need to have one too?"

"No!" House gasped. "Of course not. How selfish would that be? This cat is for Rachel."

"No," Cuddy corrected him. "A stuffed cat would be for Rachel. A real cat is for you."

"Kitty toy!" Rachel announced as they drew level with the box. She waited expectantly for one of the adults to open the container for her.

House knelt down so he could look Rachel in the eye. "Rachel, repeat after me. My – cat – is – not – a – toy. Can you say that for me?"

"Kitty!"

"No, not kitty," he corrected her. "My – cat – is – not-"

"No toy," Rachel finished. "No kitty toy."

House breathed a sigh of relief. "All right, good. Now we can open this box." He slowly reached forward and undid the clasps at the top. When the box was open, he reached inside and pulled out the tiny kitten. It was barely big enough to fill his palms.

Rachel began jumping up and down in excitement. "Kitty, kitty, kitty!" She stretched her arms up to take it from him, but he lifted the cat higher, out of her reach.

"Not yet," he told her. "It must be granted the Mommy Stamp of Approval before you can have it." He held the cat out for Cuddy to inspect. "Well?"

He could see her resolve breaking at the sight of the cat. Even if she didn't want Rachel to have a pet, she had too much of a heart to not allow Rachel to keep her, especially not after House had bought it for her. This he knew well, of course; it was the reason he had allowed Rachel to persuade him to buy the cat in the first place.

"I…" She faltered. He grinned triumphantly. "I hate you."

"Okay," he said lightly. He turned back to Rachel. "Mommy approves. Kitty is all yours." He held the cat out for her to take. Rachel immediately tried to snatch it from his hands. "No!" House exclaimed, moving his hands away from her before she could do any more damage. "You have to do it gently," he explained. "Here." He showed her how to place one hand underneath the cat's stomach, and to place the other one on the cat's back. Once he was sure the cat was securely in her grasp, he let go and allowed Rachel to hold her pet for the first time.

"There," he said, stepping back and looking at Cuddy. "See? She's a natural."

Cuddy didn't look so convinced. "Rachel," she said, kneeling down in front of her daughter. "You know that taking care of a cat is a really big job, right?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Do you know what job means?"

"Work?" Rachel guessed.

"That's right," Cuddy said. "Taking care of a cat is a lot of work. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yes, Mommy."

Cuddy looked at her for a long time. Then, she smiled. "Do you have a name picked out?"

"Kitty?" Rachel suggested.

House groaned. Of course Rachel would come up with the most boring and predictable name imaginable. "We cannot name the kitty, 'Kitty.'"

"No Kitty?"

"No," House confirmed. "Think about how stupid that will sound in a few years when your vocabulary is larger than a hundred words. You'll wish you'd picked any of the other millions of words out there. Trust me on this one."

"House?" Rachel suggested after another minute. He realized that she was only using names that she already knew. She'd probably suggest her own name next.

"You're not naming it after me," House informed her. "Besides, it's a girl cat. House is a boy name. Don't want to confuse her gender role. Next thing we know, she'll grow up to be a braless feminist."

"House!" Cuddy glared at him.

He threw his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. But we're still not naming it after me."

Cuddy sighed. "You can't let her name the cat. The poor cat, being named by a two-year-old! Maybe you or I should name it?"

"It's her cat!" House exclaimed. "She would never forgive us if we didn't let her name her own cat."

"Her seven-year-old self will also never forgive us if we let her name the cat 'Kitty,'" Cuddy pointed out.

House considered this. "Fair," he conceded.

"What are we going to do?" Cuddy asked.

"Pick the name out of a hat?" House suggested, half-seriously. "We could write down our suitable choices and then let her pick the strip of paper."

"Hmm," Cuddy said thoughtfully. She looked at Rachel, who was still holding the nameless kitten in her arms, petting her the way House had instructed.

"Rachel," she began, "what is your favorite name in the whole world?"

"Yeah, right, like she knows what name means," House scoffed.

Rachel grinned. "Sarah!"

House and Cuddy looked at each other. Cuddy's expression was exasperated; House merely shrugged.

"Works for me."


A/N: Reviews make my world go round!