"Of all the big shirts, you had to get this one?" Cuddy asked as she padded back to the piano. She was swimming in the Jack Daniels shirt. It stopped just below her knees and hung off one shoulder.
"You look just fine," House said with a huge grin of self-satisfaction. "Like Jennifer Beals in Flashdance, without the welding."
"It's huge! Both of us could fit in this thing."
"Now that's not a bad idea," he smirked, shuffling up some more sheet music.
"Why did you get one so big?"
"It was the only one they had left."
"That's a good reason."
"It's not the real reason, but I figured it was better to be too big than too small. Unless you're planning to show the board a new dress code–all oversized tee-shirts all the time–nobody else is going to see it. Wait, are you going to tell me now that size me that size really matters?"
"Not when you're six-foot-three, I hope." Cuddy slid back onto the piano bench.
"It doesn't. And I have yet to hear you complain," House deadpanned as she choked on the rest of her soda. "Well, maybe every now and then when you scream out don't stop, don't stop, but that has nothing to do with size, does it?"
"Are you going to play the piano or are you going to sit there and crow about your manhood all night?"
"I can do both. I'm just that talented. Which would you rather hear, boss?"
"Piano. Please, just play some damn music."
"The Dean of Medicine wants music and she will get it. "
"Thank you," she sighed.
"You're welcome," he replied with a chuckle. "Any requests for the lovely lady?"
"Beethoven."
"Coming right up."
"And I don't mean the dog."
"Dr. House, do you have a minute?" Cuddy asked after tracking him down in the corridor, walking with his team back to the conference room.
"Do I want one, Dr. Cuddy?"
"Yes, you do."
"Do I now? Why is that?"
"I bring good news." She glanced over at the younger doctors marching ahead. "For your ears only."
He paused, and the other three doctors stopped on a dime and waited for their boss. House noticed them staring expectantly. "Uncle Greg and Aunt Lisa have some grown-up things to talk about," he said, waving them away.
Cuddy waited until the underlings were out of earshot and said, "How does next Saturday sound?"
"Sound for what?"
"You, me, a little champagne and a lot of privacy."
"Throw in a Jacuzzi and you have a deal." He smiled from ear to ear, blue eyes shining.
"Neither of us has a Jacuzzi."
"Damn. Our big plan has a flaw. I guess we'll just have to have lots and lots of sex to make up for that little oversight. Have I ever told you how much I love it when you yell out my name?"
"No, that's the first time I heard about that. I take it next Saturday is fine with you."
"A pack of rabid wolverines couldn't keep me away."
"Always a romantic."
"That's why you can't get enough of me. Your place or mine, boss?"
"You have your nice big bed ready and a nice dinner in the fridge," she said, "I'll bring the champagne and the tee-shirt."
"What red-blooded American male could resist that offer?"
"Not you."
"You got that right. See you next Saturday, Dr. Cuddy."
"Next Saturday, Dr. House. Be up bright and early." She turned on her heels and said over her shoulder, "You better be prepared to yell out my name. I love it when you do that."
