Her life was one horror after another.
While everyone else was clearly having fun, she was stuck dancing with one very large donor. In this case the adjective did not imply an amount of money this guy offered to PPTH, but that he was a large, creepy pig. She could not fathom why a grown man attending a party where all the guests would be adults would choose to dress up as a clown. A CLOWN!
With every step, Cuddy tried to dodge his huge red shoes stomping on her toes, while simultaneously attempting to drag his wandering hands off her butt, and up to more neutral territories. Not to mention there was a little part of her that's always hated clowns, ever since she was a little girl. All it took was one drunken clown puking all over her at a friend's birthday party, something about The Mets losing (as it turns out, this happened more often than she'd thought), and the professional clown they'd hired getting baked at the game the night before. She'd never warmed up to either clowns or baseball since.
She watched wistfully as others laughed, enjoyed their time and gradually got wasted, while she was bored, and hadn't progressed beyond slightly tipsy with a slice of depressed. Here goes another holiday she had to spend working, she thought to herself. Even if work tonight was more fun than usual, she was still going home to her large, empty house.
Cuddy had to find a valid excuse and make a discreet exit soon, because her hardworking staff deserved the chance to party and relax, and they couldn't do that all the way with their boss hanging around.
With the exception of a certain oncologist of course, who simply could never hold his booze.
Several dancing couples away, a Spiderman attired Wilson was drunkenly dancing slash fondling a Playboy bunny nurse; he wasn't being nearly as subtle about it as he thought.
Behind them she could see House's two youngest minions, the blond Australian doctor dressed as a giant taco with red and green salad parts sticking out at the seams. Cuddy assumed the poor young man must have lost a bet to his boss, nothing else could possibly justify the hideous getup. Chase's dancing partner, Cameron, was dressed as an angel, halo, wings and all. Cuddy couldn't help snorting at that.
All in all, the party was a great success, she could tell, staff members were having fun. The two guests of honor had already signed their donation checks and maybe if she allowed this creep to cop one feel now, his donation amount would go up. She wasn't above playing the feminine wiles card when opportunity presented itself; they needed the money for their ambulance bay renovations, and Cuddy was willing to take one for the team.
There it goes again, the idiot's hand was slowly moving down -as predicted- to her bottom, Cuddy closed her eyes and winced…
"Yo, Krusty!" her eyes snapped open, "I hate to cut short your pay-per-grope time, but the princess is needed in another castle."
House was no one's knight in shining armor and he was definitely not Cuddy's.
Yet here he was, when she didn't even know he'd attended this party, scowling down at Mr. Donor's wandering hand, stepping up to… do what exactly? Defend her virtue? And this wasn't even the strangest thing about it.
House was immaculately dressed in some dark trousers, surprisingly not made of denim, a navy blue tie to match his neatly pressed sky-blue shirt. A lab coat finalized the outfit with a pocket protector and a nametag that read 'Dr. J. Wilson'. A stethoscope slung around his neck, completed the effect.
He looked like an actual doctor, like he should look on a daily basis if he wasn't… well, House. It was at once extremely ironic, odd and intriguing.
The unexpected surge of desire that interrupted her suspicious musings took Cuddy by surprise.
"What is going on Doctor House?" she asked, noting with satisfaction, a look of annoyance crossing the donor's face as she stepped away from him and closer to her doctor.
"You're needed in the ER, some rich, douche bag patient of yours was just admitted," he intoned, still glaring pointedly at the other man.
Cuddy eyed him contemplatively, she had a choice to make, stay and entertain Krusty, or take off with her equally annoying employee.
House, the bane of her existence, the only man who could simultaneously set her blood pressure rising and her lust ablaze. The only person she could hold responsible for that single grey hair she'd found this morning while blow drying, seeing as neither one of her parents had started to go grey until they were well into their fifth decade.
This man was her perceived enemy and recurring nightmare. There was no way he simply hobbled all the way over here to spare her some unwanted attention. House delighted in Cuddy's misfortune and exploited it. Right now, there was a great possibility he was simply setting her up for further embarrassments, something far more humiliating than a drunken benefactor groping her in front of her employees.
Either that, or he wanted something from her in return, she mentally crossed her fingers for this option over the former.
But well, hadn't she already been hoping for a swift exit? For once in his mostly wicked existence, House was actually the lesser of two evils.
Mind made up, Cuddy was already excusing herself; she'd decided that if her departure with House led to some closer inspection of his 'costume' she could proclaim this Halloween party an official success.
...TBC.