Only Have Eyes For You
"Over my dead body!"
Cuddy had miscalculated. She figured the best time to tell House that she had agreed to auction herself off for charity at the upcoming PPTH gala was right after sex. He was always in the best mood then—naturally drugged, affectionate, inordinately proud of himself. What she had forgotten was that House also become super possessive after sex. Borderline clingy.
He was shaking his head adamantly.
"Just tell them no!" he said.
"I can't," Cuddy demurred, taking a finger and idly running it down the center of his chest. "The board sees the gala as an all-hands-on-deck kind of event."
"So sell raffle tickets," House muttered.
"They asked me to do the auction," she said.
"But you're not even single," he said, slightly hurt.
"In their minds, I'm not married, therefore I'm single," she said. Then she added, as an afterthought: "One of the many ways the board is like my mother."
House folded his arms.
"I won't allow it!"
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
"Very macho," she said. "I'm sure a lot of women would really be impressed with that."
"You obviously not being among them," he sniffed.
"Look," she said, sitting up a bit. "I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this. You were auctioned off before and that didn't turn out so badly, now did it?" She gave him a dirty smile.
"That's exactly why I don't want you to be auctioned!" he said.
"What? You think I want to have sex with other men?" she snorted.
"I didn't…until you told me that you were about to whore yourself out for the trustees."
"First, 'whore yourself out' is a tad extreme, donchya think? And second, the solution here is obvious: You should bid on me. Just do what I did when I . . .made a charitable donation—"
"Was overcome with jealousy," House corrected.
Cuddy smiled.
"That time I was overcome with jealousy," she conceded, smiling at him. "Just wait til the bidding reaches a fairly acceptable amount and then swoop in and out bid everybody in dramatic fashion."
"Sounds expensive," he said.
She shrugged.
"Or, okay, yeah. . . you could let some other guy have his way with me instead."
With one quick move, House rolled on top of her, pinning her against the bed.
"Never!" he said, smiling—beginning to kiss her neck as though devouring her. "You're mine."
She smiled back.
"Then, as the man once said, 'Show me the money.'"
#####
From the audience, House watched as various female doctors and nurses were auctioned off for charity.
There was that red-headed nurse from radiology who always wore too much perfume.
There was that short-haired pediatrician he could've sworn was a lesbian.
There was that blonde cardiologist Taub was always hitting on.
He yawned, looked at his watch.
Finally, it was Cuddy's turn.
She was wearing a red, skintight gown that actually sent a gasp of approval through the room.
Every other woman looked positively dowdy, graceless, and second-rate compared to her.
"My little Rolls Royce," he thought to himself. He stretched out his legs, put his arms behind his head and watched her work.
Cuddy strut down the runway like a fashion model.
The bidding, predictably, got heated right away. Two horny lab techs kept going back and forth, then a guy who owned a local used car business joined in, then a sleazy looking lawyer type bid as well.
Finally, the lab techs were bid out. It had come down to Used Car Guy and Sleazy Lawyer Guy.
Bidding at an auction was a bit like waiting for microwave popcorn to pop—once it slowed down, it was almost done.
The two men had been bidding fast and furiously, in increments of $300. Now they had slowed to a crawl.
"$3,500," said Sleazy Lawyer Guy.
A short pause.
"$3,600," said Used Car Guy.
"$3,700," said Sleazy Lawyer Guy.
Used Car Guy hesitated, opened his mouth, closed it, looked down at his table.
"$3,700 seems to be our high bid…" the auctioneer said.
Cuddy glanced over at House nervously. He grinned at her.
"$3,700 going once. . ."
Now Cuddy glanced at him again, with a slightly annoyed look on her face: What the hell was he waiting for?
"$3,700 going twice. . ."
Now she was giving him an absolute death stare.
"And so—"
"Seven thousand!" House said, loudly, with a satisfied smile.
Sleazy Lawyer Guy looked stunned.
"Crap," he muttered under his breath.
"Whoa. Looks like somebody likes you very much, Dr. Cuddy," the auctioneer said.
"Too bad I'm going to have to kill him when we get home," she muttered under her breath.
"Well, this is just a formality at this point, but we have to do it," the auctioneer said with a smile. "$7,000 going once. $7,000 going twice. . ."
"$20,000!" came a booming voice from the back of the room.
Every head in the room turned.
Both House and Cuddy's mouths dropped open at the same time.
It was Dr. Dan Levitard, the chief of surgery at Princeton General. He was a cocky son of a bitch, who'd made no secret about the fact that he had the hots for Cuddy.
About six months ago, House had bumped into him in the men's room at some Doctors Against Leukemia event in Trenton that Cuddy had dragged him to.
"I understand you're seeing Dr. Cuddy," Levitard had said, unzipping his trousers.
"Not at this exact moment," House said. "Right now I'm urinating."
"What on earth can she possibly see in you?"
"I know we're in the men's room, but I'll save you the embarrassment of having to sneak a look: Yes, it is that big."
Levitard laughed testily, shook his head.
"She could do a lot better," he said.
"Let me guess," House said, limping over to the sink to wash his hands. "With someone like you?"
"You have to admit, me and Dr. Cuddy make a whole lot more sense than you and Dr. Cuddy."
"You're right!" House said, slapping his forehead. "It's all so clear now. Should I just hand her over to you tonight, or is there some sort of formal paperwork that needs to be signed first?"
"Just keep laughing, funny boy. Eventually she's going to get sick of your games and want a real man."
"I don't see any real men in this bathroom besides me," House said. Then he turned to a third guy who was still at the urinal. "No offense," he said.
"None taken," the guy said with a shrug.
"I'm surprised you'd even be interested in a woman with Cuddy's clearly advancing decrepitude," House continued. "I saw your date, Levitard. At first I thought she was one of Rachel's babysitters."
"She's 26," Levitard said, defensively.
"If you say so," House said.
"You think you're awfully cute, don't you?"
"So my girlfriend tells me," House said, and he winked.
That was November. Now, House glared at his enemy, the smarmy bastard, who smirked at him from the back of the room.
"Cocksucker," House mouthed under his breath.
"Any counter bid?" the auctioneer said to House.
House looked at Cuddy, who looked a bit freaked out.
"Can I have a consult with the . . .bachelorette?" House said.
"You're not her lawyer and this is not a court of law," the auctioneer said.
"It'll just take a minute," House said, limping up to the edge of the stage.
Cuddy knelt down to talk to him.
"What the hell are we going to do?" she said.
"Run for it?" House said.
"We can't! I made a commitment."
"Can I borrow 13 thousand dollars then?" House suggested.
"No! We're not making a $20,000 donation to the hospital. Besides, who knows how high this lunatic is willing to go? I guess I just have to suck it up and go on a date with him."
House grit his teeth.
"I knew something like this would happen!'
"You did not!"
"Well, maybe not this specifically. But I knew something bad would happen."
He limped back to his seat.
"No further bid," he said under his breath.
####
While Cuddy was mingling with some boardmembers backstage, House made his way over to Levitard's table.
"Can't get your own girlfriend so you have to buy mine?" he said.
"Oh, is she still your girlfriend?" Levitard answered snidely. "Because she was doing a pretty good impression of a single person up there tonight."
"She's the head of the hospital," House said. "It's for charity."
"Or maybe it's because she wants to see what else is out there. Play the field a little."
"I was supposed to buy her, you numbskull. Why do you think I waited til the end to bid?"
"Put up or shut up, House. I guess she's just worth more to me than she is to you."
"You just wasted twenty Gs, pal," House said. "Up in smoke. Poof!"
"We'll see about that. I'm going to show Dr. Cuddy the time of her life."
House took a menacing step toward him.
"You lay one finger on her and I will destr—"
"Everything okay here?"
It was Cuddy, who had just emerged from backstage. She took House's hand, squeezed it—a show of solidarity.
"Ship shape!" Levitard said. He owned a yacht and had an annoying habit of speaking in nautical metaphors.
"Thank you for your. . .incredibly generous donation tonight," Cuddy said to him. "But you do know that I'm with House, right? I don't want there to be any misunderstanding."
"No misunderstanding at all," Levitard said. "I was happy to make the donation and it will be well worth it just to spend some time alone with you."
Cuddy sighed.
"That was the deal, I guess," she said, looking at House apologetically.
"Friday night? 8 pm? I'll pick you up?"
"I was thinking more like a brunch," House said. "Or a mid-afternoon snack."
"Friday at 8 would be great," Cuddy said. "I'll have my assistant forward you the address."
"Like stalker boy doesn't already have your address," House said, scowling at Levitard.
Cuddy took his arm. "I'm tired, babe. Let's go home."
The "babe" was for Levitard's sake. She never called him that.
House smiled and followed her.
#####
"I'm coming with you," House said.
It was Friday night. Levitard was due to arrive any minute now.
House was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Cuddy put on her makeup.
Rachel was on the floor coloring.
"You can't come House," she said.
"Why don't you call him and tell him you're sick?" he said, sighing.
She stopped putting on her eyeshadow and walked up to him, positioning herself between his legs.
"House, do you love me?"
He rolled his eyes a bit, but put his arms around her waist.
"You know I do."
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"Completely?"
"Yes."
"Then let me go on the date with the captain of the SS Smarmy," she said. "The sooner the date is over, the sooner I can come home and have my way with you."
And she kissed him on the lips.
Just then the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it!" House said, loudly.
He answered the door.
Levitard was standing there, holding flowers, wearing a three-piece, pin-striped suit.
"I prefer lilacs, but thanks," House said, taking the flowers.
"Cute House."
"I'm here by the way, cause I'm always here. Cause I practically live here," House added.
"Almost doesn't count except for horseshoes and hand grenades," Levitard said.
"Original," House said.
Cuddy came out of the bedroom, putting her earrings on.
"Wow. You look gorgeous, Lisa," Levitard said, taking her in.
"I picked out her outfit," House said. It was a lie, but it seemed the thing to say.
Rachel, curious about all the commotion, came to the door. When she saw Dan Levitard, she hid behind House's leg.
"Who's that?" she whispered to House.
"Can you say pond scum?" House said.
Cuddy shot him a look.
"Okay, can you say overcompensating for a small penis?"
"House!"
House turned to Levitard.
"And I don't like the way you're looking at Rachel either, buddy. She's a bit young, even for you."
"Jokes," Levitard said, with a strained laugh. "The man's got jokes."
He and House glared at each other.
"Speaking of Rachel, I'm going to put her to bed," Cuddy said. "You think you boys can avoid killing each other until I get back?"
They both shrugged.
Five minutes later, Cuddy came out of the bedroom.
"I'm ready," she said.
She turned to House.
"Rachel's asleep, there's leftover chicken in the fridge, I'll be home before midnight."
"Don't wait up," Levitard said.
"Don't forget your purse," House said, handing it to her.
Levitard possessively took Cuddy's arm and led her to his 7 series BMW.
House watched them drive away, then limped quickly over to the kitchen table, where he pulled out a digital recording device. He put on his headphones.
#####
At first he couldn't hear anything. Just static and then what sounded like really loud music, distorted.
He fiddled with the controls.
Finally, he heard voices.
"I've never been to Osteria Fiorello," Cuddy said. "I've always wanted to go."
Shit. She had asked House to take her there. ("You know I hate pretentious places like that," he had said. They had gone to Sullivan's for a burger instead.)
He listened to Levitard prattling on and on—about the patients he had saved that day ("the key is to never second guess yourself in the OR," he boasted) and his yacht ("a guy's gotta have a few toys") and his wine collection ("I have a 20-year-old bottle of Brunello that I'd love to drink with you one day").
House rolled his eyes.
Finally, they got to the restaurant. House couldn't make out everything they were saying—mostly talking about the food, then ordering (Cuddy got the duck; Levitard ordered the wild boar.)
And then, inevitably, conversation turned to House.
"So what's it like dating a man with a genius IQ and the social skills of an 8-year-old?" Levitard asked.
"Mostly great," Cuddy said.
"Mostly?"
"Well, I take the good with the bad," Cuddy said wearily.
House frowned, turned up the volume a bit.
"Define bad," Levitard said.
"House can be exhausting, as you can imagine," Cuddy said. "He is very immature, as you say. But the biggest problem is the jealousy."
"Jealousy?" Levitard said.
Jealousy? House thought. The fact that he was currently spying on Cuddy's conversation failed to put a dent in his indignation.
"He just doesn't trust me. And I find that very, very frustrating," Cuddy said.
"I can imagine," Levitard said.
Imagine this, asshole.
"How am supposed to build a life with a man who doesn't trust me?"
"You can't," Levitard said. "Trust is the cornerstone of all good relationships."
You're a dead man, Levitard.
"But besides that," Levitard probed. "Everything seaworthy?"
"Well, and I hate to even bring it up, but our sex life has lost some of its magic," Cuddy sighed.
House gulped. Sex life?
"It's always been very—shall we say—robust. But lately it's gotten a little boring and routine."
Boring and routine?
"Between you and me, the last few times, I had to fake it."
The fuck?!
"You sound like a woman ready to move on with her life" Levitard said, helpfully.
"I wouldn't say that yet. But if House keeps up with this kind of behavior, he'll leave me with no choice."
"You have my number," Levitard said.
"Oh, don't worry Dan. I know where to you find you."
######
When Cuddy got home, House was lying in bed, wide awake, waiting for her.
It was 11:15.
He had spent the past 2 hours restlessly obsessing over what Cuddy had said. Their sex life boring and routine? They barely had sex in the same place—or position—twice. And faking it? If Cuddy was faking it, she was the best actress on the planet. Her orgasms were so intense, he sometimes felt like he was having them.
But the worst part was, he couldn't call her on it. Cuddy could never know that he had bugged her dinner with Levitard.
"How was the big date?" he said glumly, not making eye contact.
"Meh," she said, with a shrug.
"Where'd you go for dinner?"
"Chez Phillipe," Cuddy said.
House side-eyed her. Why would she lie about that?
Cuddy slipped out of her dress and put her on nightie.
She climbed into bed next to him, started to kiss him.
"Did someone say something about having her way with you?" she said.
House squirmed away.
"I'm not in the mood," he said sulkily.
"Not in the mood?" Cuddy said, a tiny smile playing at her lips. "Could it be because you find our sex life has lost its magic?"
House looked at her.
"And you find it. . .boring and routine?"
He narrowed his eyes.
"Or because you've been faking your orgasms these last few times?"
Finally, House got it.
"You knew?" he said.
"Of course I knew," she said. "There was no way you weren't going to spy on me somehow. And when you suddenly became so interested in searching for that quarter in my purse, I knew you had planted a bug."
"So. . .you made that stuff up? Just to teach me a lesson?"
"Totally. You are many things House: Boring and routine is not one of them."
She went to kiss him again.
"But now Levitard thinks I'm those things," House said, still not satisfied.
"No he doesn't. He was in on it. When we got in the car I said, 'I love my boyfriend very much and you have zero shot, but do you want to teach him a lesson?'"
"I never heard that on the tape," House countered.
"I turned the music up really loud," Cuddy said, proud of herself.
House suddenly had a flash to when he first turned on the recording: The static, the loud music.
"You little devil," he said, impressed.
"House: I only have eyes for you," she said. "But this jealousy thing has got to stop now."
"Maybe I'd be a little less jealous if you stopped going on dates with random douchebags," House offered.
"Fair enough," Cuddy chuckled. "Now stop pouting. You're making my victory less sweet."
He was still looking glum.
"C'mere," she said, pulling her toward him and kissing him on the mouth.
"Don't ever do that to me again," House said, kissing her back half-heartedly.
"I'm sorry," she said teasingly. "Let me show you how sorry."
She pulled up his tee-shirt, began to kiss his stomach, then her mouth moved down his abdomen, kissed the light trial of hair that led to his pelvic bone. Then she pulled aside his boxer shorts.
Big Greg may've still been sulking, but Little Greg was ready to party.
She stroked his shaft for a few seconds, then languorously sucked his tip.
House leaned back, sighed, in an expectant sort of way.
"One last thing," Cuddy said, popping up. "Levitard wasn't going to pay 20 grand just for the privilege of making you jealous. So you're teaching a 5-week course in diagnostics at Princeton General starting in June."
"I'm what?" he started to protest, but Cuddy had now taken him completely in her mouth.
House closed his eyes, yielded, and moaned.
THE END