A/N: This story examines the traditions associated with Valentine's Day and the stress men can feel while trying to live up to the expectations of their lovers. The unnamed pairing was inspired by House and Cameron in an established relationship.
Expectations
It isn't fair … it really isn't.
You sit at your desk admiring the exquisite red rose in your hands.
How can something so fragile, so perfect, be expected to convey with just one simple gesture the overwhelming emotions you've locked in your heart.
Valentine's Day …
It's a celebration of love that weighs you down with impossible expectations.
You brave the mall.
You know you should have done this days ago and jostle your way into a store that's crammed with men, just like you,
all searching for the perfect card to encapsulate the thoughts they're incapable of expressing.
You take advantage of your height to reach for the top of the display rack where the most expensive cards beckon amidst the sea of red-flocked banality that surrounds them.
You test drive the verse to ascertain its worthiness.
You've learned the secret.
If it will make her cry, it's the one.
Chocolates …
You wonder if they've followed you.
Those desperate men.
The men you thought you left behind.
Perhaps there are more than you ever imagined.
You are confident here.
You answer the clerk's "May I help you, sir?" with a decisive "Yes."
You know what she likes.
For once, you're thankful for her unequivocal tastes.
"Buttercreams, please, in a red velvet box."
A sense of superiority flirts with you briefly. The palpable envy of your bewildered admirers pleases you.
You're king of the candy shop … a god among mere mortals.
You walk a little taller as you approach your final destination.
The Gift …
You leave the most difficult task for last.
This is what separates the men from the boys.
You avoid lingerie.
It's fraught with risk.
You're unsure of her size. You are not alone.
Lingerie must be selected with care and consideration.
It's a task worthy of Indiana Jones.
Identify the cup of Christ? No problem.
You must choose wisely …
Mistakes will yield predictable results.
Too large? A disaster of biblical proportions.
Too small? An admission of idiocy. Something not to be desired.
You've been trained well. You select jewelry.
Diamonds are always the right size …
You pull into your driveway clutching the fruits of your labour in your strong, capable hands.
You pause on the doorstep and catch your breath.
Why does it have to be so hard?
Love, that is …
If only you could tell her what's in your heart, how she completes you, there wouldn't be any need for all this nonsense.
You accept the fact that you'll never get it quite right, no matter how hard you try.
Love … and women … are like that, you know.
Full of whimsical expectations you can never predict.
I love it …
You beam with pride as she opens your gift.
Her smile out-sparkles the diamond studs she's not-so-secretly wanted for years.
She moans with orgasmic delight as a buttercream melts in her mouth.
Her breasts are softer than the crimson rose you trail between them.
The final test …
The card.
You place it on her pillow and wait with bated breath.
She cries.
And for that brief moment all is right with your world.
It all makes sense.
It was all worthwhile.
But you should know …
She can read you like a treasured tale.
She understands how hard this is for you,
and yet you do it, year after year.
Just to make her happy.
And that's why she loves you …
The End