"What are you wearing to the Miller's holiday party tonight?" Cuddy asked.
House looked down at his outfit with a shrug.
"This?" he said.
"The attire is dressy casual. That's not dressy casual, it's more like 'homeless slob.'"
"You do realize that dressy casual is an oxymoron, right?" House said pointedly. "They may as well tell us to arrive late but come early."
"Yes, the nonsensical nature of that idiom offends me to the core. Now. . .what are you wearing tonight?"
"I can put a tie on over my tee-shirt," House said. "Then I'll have covered both the dressy and the casual."
"That's it," Cuddy said. "We're going shopping."
"Shopping? Like, for clothes?"
"No, for power tools. Yes for clothes."
"I don't shop for clothes."
"You don't walk around nude. Therefore, you must shop for clothes." She looked at him. "Although now that you mention it, I've never heard you talk about shopping—ever."
"I have a guy," House said.
"A guy?"
"Bernie. He knows what I like, he sends it to me."
"Bernie the shopping elf?"
"Something like that."
"Well, how fast can Bernie deliver? The party's in 7 hours."
"I have no idea. He only contacts me once a year. He's also my accountant incidentally."
"Whose car are we taking to the mall?"
"I told you. I don't shop."
"Tell you what, Ralph Lauren. You come to the mall, let me find you a dressy casual outfit for tonight and you can pick out any piece of lingerie that you like."
"How many times have I told you Cuddy? I will not dress up in women's lingerie for you!"
Cuddy laughed.
"Not for you," she said, playing along. "For me."
"Ahhhh," he said, smiling and putting his arms around her waist.
"Anything? A leather teddy?"
"We're going to Bloomingdales, not Frederick's of Hollywood. But yes. Anything."
"Okay, dressy casual it is."
"You are nothing if not predictable, House."
######
They went to Bloomingdale's and were immediately helped by Elaine, a 35-year veteran of the men's department.
"We need a dressy casual outfit for a party," Cuddy told her.
"Afterwards, we're going out for some jumbo shrimp," House said.
Elaine looked at him.
"He's obsessed with oxymorons today," Cuddy said, patting him on the shoulder. "Emphasis on the word moron."
"She tends to react to my jokes with deafening silence," House said. "But that's just my unbiased opinion."
"Enough," Cuddy said.
"I have a lot of new items that I think will fit the bill perfectly," Elaine said, ignoring him and leading them to a table of a cashmere sweaters, shirts, and ties.
"Oh my God, it's the Wilson Collection!" House said, upon seeing the table.
"We'll try this, this, and that," Cuddy said, grabbing a bunch of items off the table.
"You have excellent taste," Elaine said, admiringly.
"Thank you," House said.
Elaine led them to the dressing room.
Cuddy and Elaine stopped at the door.
House stopped, too.
"What are you waiting for?" Cuddy asked.
"Aren't you coming in with me, mommy?" he said. "I might have trouble with the buttons. On my pants."
"No, I'm grabbing you a few jackets to try on. If you have any trouble with your pants, I'm sure Elaine can help you."
House looked at Elaine and frowned.
"You're mean," he said, slumping his shoulders and heading to the dressing room.
One by one, he came out wearing the various outfits. Each time he had a new complaint: The sweater was itchy. The collar on the shirt was too tight. The pants gave him a wedgie. The vest made him look like a dork.
Finally, he came out in an open collar white shirt, a slim cut gray blazer and dark jeans.
"Ohmygod," Cuddy said, actually gasping. "You look like a movie star."
"Gorgeous," Elaine agreed.
"I feel like a tool," House said.
"Seriously, House. I will be the envy of every woman at the party if you wear that."
"I look like a gay, Moroccan nightclub owner," House said, squirming.
"I can't wear this."
"Nooooo, please," Cuddy said. "You look great."
"It's not me."
Cuddy sighed.
"You've rejected every single outfit. So what are you going to wear?"
"I'm sure I have something in my closet at home. I promise I won't disappoint you. Can we go to the lingerie department now?"
"Forget it, House! You didn't even buy anything!"
"That wasn't the deal! The deal was, if I came with you to the mall, we could buy lingerie. I played Greg House, human clothing hanger for your amusement. Now it's your turn."
"Fine," she said.
"Don't pout," he said.
"Have you considered corduroy?" Elaine shouted after them as they left.
######
In the lingerie department, Cuddy was looking at a pair of matte-finish silk pantyhose when House approached her, his hands loaded up with intimates.
"What the hell is that?" she asked.
"It's all the outfits I want you to try on."
He must've had about 25 different chemises, bra sets and teddies.
"Pick 5, House," she said.
He was crestfallen.
"Okay, this, this, this, this and. . ." he looked he was making the most painful decision of his life. "This."
Then he took the rest of the items and placed them precariously in the arms of a mannequin
"That's where I, uh, found them," he said.
Cuddy grabbed the underwear, headed to the dressing room. House followed.
"Wait here," she said, gesturing to a velvet chair outside the dressing room
"Noooo!"
"Maybe if you'd bought a dressy casual, I might've let you help," she said.
"Have I told how mean you are?"
She went into the dressing room and tried on the outfits. She had to admit, House had good taste.
Finally, she put on a black lace chemise that looked so sexy, she couldn't resist calling House inside.
"Get in here before I change my mind," she said.
He popped up quickly. "You rang," he said, poking his head in the door.
"So?" she said, spinning around, modeling it for him.
"Oh. My. Gawd."
He stepped into the dressing room.
"I'm speechless," he said. "You're a goddess. You are Victoria's Secret."
"Good," she whispered. "Now behave at the party tonight and maybe I'll put it on when we get home."
"But you're wearing it now," he said, stepping toward her, grinning, and idly fingering the strap. "And we have a three-way mirror."
He lifted the strap a bit and kissed her neck. Then his mouth migrated to the top of her breast. He began to pull down the slip.
"Down boy," she said, backing up a bit. "Save it for later."
"Damn," he said dejectedly. "Did I ever mention how. . ."
"Mean I was? Yes, several times."
She took off the chemise and tossed it at him.
"Pay for this and meet me in the women's shoe department, stud."
He smiled in defeat.
"Yes mistress."
After House paid, he found her in women's shoes, staring longingly at pair of Christian Louboutin gold peep-toe pumps.
"If only you would look at me with such lust in your eyes," he said.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?" she said dreamily.
"They're. . ." he picked up the red-soled shoe. "$1,700! Are you out of your mind?"
"I wasn't buying them. I was just . . .fantasizing."
"Well, as I recently found out, fantasies don't always come true."
Cuddy sighed.
"Okay," she said. "I have mall fatigue. Let's go home."
######
At 8 o clock, the doorbell rang. It was Jenny, the babysitter.
"Hi . . .I was hoping you were House," Cuddy said, putting on an earring, and letting her in. "He's still not here."
"Yes I am!" House said.
He was standing in the doorway, wearing a black wool overcoat, slightly out of breath, like he'd been in a rush.
"Alright, let's see what outfit you came up with," Cuddy said, expecting the worst.
He took off his coat. Underneath, he was wearing the gray blazer, dark jeans, and crisp white shirt from Bloomingdales.
Cuddy's jaw dropped open.
"You bought the outfit!" she said.
"Turns out, I didn't have any dressy casual in my closet after all."
"Wow. You look hot, Dr. House," Jenny said.
Cuddy put her arms around him and gave him a kiss.
"Thank you," she said.
"You're welcome," he said, smiling and kissing her back.
Rachel came clomping out of her bedroom, wearing a pair of mommy's shoes.
"Rachel, how many times have I told you not to wear. . ."
She paused, squinted. The Louboutins.
"House," Cuddy said. "You. . .didn't."
"Apparently, I did."
"Holy shit. He bought you Louboutins," Jenny said.
"How did you . . .?"
"I have my ways," House said. "A gorgeous pair of shoes needs a gorgeous woman to wear them. However, this Cinderella moment will totally suck if the shoes don't fit. So sit down. The suspense is killing me. Size 9, right?"
"Size 7!"
He winked at her.
He took the shoes from Rachel and one by one, placed them on Cuddy's feet.
"Perfect," he said.
"Perfect," she said.
But she wasn't looking at the shoes.
THE END