Cuddy had just put Rachel to bed when she heard an enormous racket coming from the bedroom.
She poked her head in the door. The room looked like it had been ransacked by criminals. Drawers were emptied, books had been hastily flung from the shelves, a lamp shade had been overturned. She saw two feet—House's feet—sticking out from under the bed.
"What the hell?" she said.
House slid out from under the bed, like a mechanic emerging from beneath a car.
"Hi," he said, all too innocently.
"What the hell are you doing?"
He sat up on the bed, scratched his head.
"Now don't freak out," he said.
"House, what did you do?"
"It's just that I . . .can't find it."
"Can't find what?"
"Our, um. . . tape."
Cuddy blanched.
"Our tape tape?"
"Yeah."
"How is that possible? It's never left this room before, right? Right, House?"
House mumbled something indecipherable.
"What?" Cuddy said.
"I may've taken it to the office a few times," House said, guiltily.
"Why ON EARTH would you take our SEX TAPE . ." she realized she was shouting. "Why would you take our extremely private sex tape to the office, House?" she said, lowering her voice. "And if you say to show it to Wilson, you are going to be out on your ass so fast your head will spin."
"I would never show it to Wilson!" House said, indignantly. "Our sex tape is way too advanced for him. He's more of a Sex Tapes for Dummies kind of guy . . ."
"Then why would you take it to work, House?"
"To watch?"
"You watch our sex tape in the hospital?" she said incredulously. "The hospital where you're the head of diagnostics and I'm the Dean of Medicine?"
"Makes it hotter knowing what big wigs we both are," House said.
"Please tell me you're joking," Cuddy said.
"I'm as serious as lupus," House said.
"Okay, so walk me through this House. You bring our sex tape to work and watch it—when?—on your lunch break? After a differential diagnosis."
"Sometimes during the DDx, if it's really boring," he said, looking at her. "That was a joke," he added.
"I'm speechless," Cuddy said.
"You told me not to watch porn at work," House protested.
"Our sex tape isn't exactly Disney," Cuddy said.
"But you weren't objecting to the fact that I watch porn. You were objecting to the fact that I watch porn starring women who are not named you. You should be flattered that after over a year in a relationship, you're still my favorite knob polisher."
"Somehow I'm having a hard time accessing the personal pride because of my extreme anger. Where did it go, House? You didn't just leave it lying around the office, did you?"
"That's the thing, Cuddy," he said nervously. "I always diligently put it in my knapsack and bring it home, where I gently and reverentially place in the top dresser drawer. But it wasn't in my knapsack. So then I thought I must've already put it in the drawer and forgot. But it wasn't there either. That's when the panic set in."
He gestured around the room.
Cuddy sat down on the bed next to him. Despite his warning, she was, in fact, freaking out.
"Do you think someone may have taken it from your office?" she said.
"It's possible," he said.
"Oh my God."
She put her head in her hands.
"But highly improbable," he added hastily, trying to comfort her. "It's more likely that I just put it in my computer at work and got distracted. I'm sure it'll be right there in my disc drive tomorrow."
"For both our sakes, I hope you're right."
He looked at her warily.
"I'm sure that's it," he said.
######
Here's how they had come to make a sex tape.
Cuddy walked in on House when he was watching "Jailhouse Jugs" on his office computer at work.
"You're watching porn?" she said, hurt.
"Lesbian porn," he said. "It doesn't count. Although now that you mention it, the warden does look like a dude."
"Am I not. . .satisfying you in the bedroom?" she said.
He looked up, genuinely surprised by her reaction.
"Of course you are," he said.
"Then why the porn?"
"Because it's . . .a beloved hobby."
"I know you used to watch but I just assumed that since we'd been dating—"
"My porn consumption is way down," he said. "Like 80 percent down. But you can't expect a guy to go cold turkey."
"Actually, I can," she said.
"Be reasonable, Cuddy," he said.
She glared at him, made a sort of grunting noise—and stormed out.
He watched her walk away.
"Great," he said under his breath.
That night, when he got home from work, Cuddy was on the couch, watching some artsy-fartsy period drama on PBS.
"You see? You have your porn, I have mine," he said, flopping down next to her.
She ignored him.
"You're not still mad at me, are you?" he asked.
"Of course I'm mad at you," she said. She looked at him. "I just can't believe you like to look at other women to get off," she said.
"I'm a man," he said. "We crave visual stimulation. And lots of it."
"Well, I'm sorry if I'm not enough woman for you," Cuddy said, pouting.
"Cuddy," he said. "Don't be ridiculous. If I could have sex with you all day that would be highly preferable to watching porn at work."
He kissed her bare forearm, then kissed her shoulder, and her neck. She squirmed away from him.
"You know I think you're the fucking hottest woman on the planet," he said. He went to kiss her neck again. "You know that."
"Then stop watching porn," she said.
"Okay," he said. He was now unbuttoning her shirt and kissing her throat.
"House, get off. . ."
"That's what I'm trying to do," he said, kissing between her breasts.
She slapped the top of his head—hard.
"Ouch!" he said.
"You're lying," she said. "You will too watch more porn"
"No." he said. "If I said I won't, I won't."
"But you'll want to," she said.
"Actually," he said. "I won't. Because thinking about how upset it makes you is the ultimate turn off."
With that, she offered him a tiny, conciliatory smile.
"You promise?" she said.
"Yes. Now can you pause Downtown Arlene, or whatever the hell this thing is called, so we can have sex already?"
######
A week after she discovered House watching porn in his office, she came into the bedroom with a video camera and a tripod.
House was already in bed, playing video games.
He eyed the camera suspiciously.
"What's that?" he said.
"What's it look like?"
"My dream come true. But what is it really?"
"A camera to make our sex tape."
House pinched himself really hard.
"Ouch!" he said. Then he smiled. "Good. I'm awake."
"You said you needed lots of visual stimulation. I thought I'd provide some."
"And it's not even my birthday," House said, sitting up, rubbing his hands together. "Should I put on some mood music? Get some oil? Light some candles?"
"I'm the director of this movie," Cuddy said. "It's called The Prisoner and the Warden."
"That is so hot," he said.
Cuddy reached under the bed and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. She dangled them in front of his face.
"Oh. My. God," House said. "This just keeps getting better and better."
"Now cuff yourself to the bed post, prisoner" Cuddy said, tossing them at him
He caught the handcuffs—looked at her.
"You're kidding, right?" he said, tossing them back at her. "That's not my style. I'm much more of the tough yet tender warden type."
"This is my movie. And I say you wear the handcuffs," she said.
"But our movie would be so much sexier if you wore the handcuffs," he said. "Think of how hot and naked and defenseless you'd be." He was practically salivating at the thought.
"My movie. My fantasy," Cuddy said, folding her arms.
"So let me get this straight," he said. "If I don't put those on, there's no sex tape?"
"That's the long and short of it," Cuddy said. She looked down at his pajama bottoms. "Long being the operative word right now."
She was loving every minute of this.
"Fuck it," House said. He grabbed the handcuffs from her, strapped himself to the bed.
"Are you at least going to read me my Miranda Rights?" he said.
"Yes," she said, turning on the camera.
"You have the right to get an enormous bulge in your pants," she whispered, crawling on top of him. "You have the right to use your tongue in very creative ways. Any body part of my choosing will be rubbed up against you. . ."
####
The day after he told Cuddy about the missing tape, House nervously searched his office. His disc drive was empty, as was the trash. The tape wasn't in his desk drawer and it wasn't accidentally shoved into any files. It was as though it had vanished off the face of the earth.
He eyed his team, who were doing a differential, looking extremely innocent. (Too innocent?)
But if any of his team members had gotten a hold of the tape, he'd know by now, right? They'd be blackmailing him. There was no point in having something incriminating and humiliating on someone if you didn't actually use it against them.
He limped into the DDx room.
"I was expecting it to be bigger," Masters said, looking at him.
"What?" House sputtered.
"The tumor? On our patient? I thought it would be bigger."
She handed him the scan.
"Right," House said. "The patient."
"Did you find it?" Chase said.
"What do you mean?" House said, guiltily.
"Um, whatever you were just frantically looking for in your office," he said. "Did you find it?"
"Oh, that. No, I didn't."
"Animal, vegetable, or mineral?" Taub said, with a smile. "Is it bigger than a breadbox?"
"No, it's a lot like you: Smaller than a breadbox."
Taub smirked.
"Of course, the fact that you're being secretive about it is going to make us all insanely curious now," Foreman said.
House hesitated.
"If you must know, it's a pair of earrings I bought for Cuddy," he said, improvising. "I didn't want you guys to know that I was the sort of guy who bought his girlfriend jewelry."
"Awww, that's so sweet," Masters said. Foreman, Chase, and Taub all shot her a look. "It is," she said. "I'm not allowed to think something's sweet?"
"Adorable," Taub said.
"You want us to help you look?" Chase said.
"No!" House said quickly. "I'm sure it—I mean, they, the earrings—will show up eventually. They couldn't have walked out of here on their own now could they have?"
He gave an anxious chuckle.
#######
He got home before Cuddy did.
"House, play tea with me!" Rachel said, after the nanny left.
He was distracted, trying to figure out how he was going to break the news to Cuddy. The tape had not materialized all day. They were totally screwed.
"Play tea with me!" Rachel said, yanking on his sleeve.
Ever since Cuddy had gotten into that damn PBS show, Rachel was obsessed with tea.
He sighed.
"Okay," he said.
She pulled him into her room.
"Now sit!" she said.
Geez, he thought. Like mother, like daughter.
Rachel pulled out her little tea set, poured some water out of a small china pitcher into a tiny tea cup.
"One lump or two?" she said formally.
He had to smile.
"Two," he said.
She took two pennies and dropped them into the cup. The water splashed.
"Thank you, m'lady" House said, bowing, going to take the cup.
"Wait. You need your saucer, silly!" Rachel said.
She reached into her Hello Kitty knapsack and handed him a disc.
He stared at it. His disc.
"Rachel, where did you get this . . . saucer?" he asked.
"From your knapsack!" Rachel said triumphantly.
He held his breath.
"You didn't. . .watch it, did you?"
Like most three-year olds, she knew her way around a DVD player and a disc drive.
"No silly! It's a saucer. You don't watch it. You drink tea on it."
House exhaled.
Then he started to laugh.
"This saucer is lame," he said. "Let's see if Mommy has a nicer one in the kitchen."
THE END