The wind blows as I watch it snow, letting music play

I have no rhyme in mind at the time

I need only to say, these characters are not mine, without further delay.

"I'll skip forty years," said the Baker, in tears,

"And proceed without further remark

To the day when you took me aboard of your ship

To help you in hunting the Snark."

Every bone in Cameron's body was beginning to ache. Taking off her glasses, she ran a hand over her face, rubbing lightly at her weary eyes. The stress of the last month was beginning to take its toll. Replacing her glasses, she looked up from the podium and out to the faces of the students before her. Some, their heads dropped, were quickly scribbling notes, while others, with glazed expressions, stared at her in boredom or confusion.

'As I was stating,' intoned Cameron wearily, 'if immune globulins are produced from pooled human blood plasma, would someone being given an Ig be acceptable to infectious cotangents from the donor?' Glancing at the seating chart, Cameron let her eyes drift over the students. 'Benjamin Matthews?'

The sandy brown head of a young man snapped to attention, as he pretended he had not just been caught whispering to the young lady sitting next to him.

'Yes,… I mean no. Prior to use, each Ig is tested for evidence of hepatitis B & C, rabies, tetanus, AIDs, or any other blood-borne viruses and bacteria. Any units that carry these viruses are immediately eliminated, plus there are the chemical sterilization processes which will prevent other disease-causing germs.'

'Correct,' said Cameron, nodding her head in agreement, 'and Miss…' Cameron again consulted the seating chart to determine the name of the young lady beside Matthews, 'Heidi Marcus. Please tell me what symptoms would present to a patient who has been known to react to thimerosal or other Igs?'

Heidi, who had been musing over Matthews being individualized in the class, froze, her eyes growing wide.

'Ms. Marcus' asked Cameron again. 'What signs would present themselves?'

'Um,' stammered the girl, 'there would be swollen lips, difficulty breathing, tenderness, and uh, a body rash at the beginning, then it could escalate into shock?'

'And what is the time period between receiving an Ig and a vaccination for measles, mumps, or rubella?'

Again Heidi looked flustered, 'a week?'

'Three months, Ms. Marcus,' corrected Cameron quickly, before looking to the clock at the back of the classroom. 'Alright, next class Dr. Wendum will be discussing hantavirus, also known as HPS, its symptoms, exposures, and mortality rate. Class dismissed.'

There was a general rustling sound as the students collected their belongings and exited the classroom. Cameron, exhausted from working too many late nights and being unused to the demands of teaching, leaned heavily against the podium as she turned off the audio-visual equipment.

'Excellent lecture Allison,' came the rich-voice of Wendum from the back of room as he made his way towards the lectern. 'You should be an instructor.'

'Too tiring,' smiled Cameron lightly. 'Plus, like my husband, I like trying to solve the puzzle.'

Wendum stood before her, a quizzical look on his face, 'The puzzle? I never thought of immunology as a puzzle.'

'But diagnostics is.' Cameron bent to pick up her satchel from its place under the podium and began to arrange her papers. 'You must find the problem, what is wrong, and what is happening or your patient may die.'

Wendum looked at her, a smile at the corners of his mouth as he let his grey eyes fall across her body, 'I do not believe death should be looked at as a game Allison.'

Looking up from placing her things in her bag, Cameron considered him for a moment. 'Neither do I Dr. Wendum.'

For several seconds neither said a word as they studied the other's reaction, then Wendum, breaking the silence, smiled demurely, 'Culum, please.'

Dismissing him, Cameron pulled her bag onto her shoulder, 'Ready to go Dr. Wendum? It's late.'

Wendum smiled brightly as held out his arm indicating he would follow Cameron. They were each silent till they reached Cameron's car. Reaching for her keys, Cameron tapped the electronic device on her keychain which instantly unlocked both the driver and passenger side doors. Unceremoniously, Cameron opened the rear door and dropped her bag into the floorboard, before joining Wendum in the front of the vehicle.

Wendum gave Cameron a few moments to snap in her seat belt and start the car before he spoke. 'May I buy you dinner?' he asked, giving her a sidelong glance.

There was instantly tension in the vehicle as Cameron returned the drive column to park and turned in her seat to face Wendum.

'I am married.' The statement was made in a clear, flat tone.

Wendum laughed lightly as he turned in his seat to face Cameron.

'I am aware of that.'

'Then please acknowledge it,' the look on her face told him she was loosing her patience with him.

'I do and I am thank you.' This time it was his voice which was impatient. 'Did I not apologize to you for my earlier behavior and for my amusement at finding you married to someone like House?'

'You did,' Cameron answered begrudgingly, the trepidation obvious in her voice.

'I also believe I have conducted myself as a perfect gentleman since that time, have I not?' Wendum raised an eyebrow as he looked at her; his eyes were half hidden in shadow.

'You have.'

'Then may I ask Dr. Cameron, as it is going on half-eight in the evening, why I cannot buy purchase a meal for myself and a colleague?' Wendum took a deep breath, construing his face into a posture of up most seriousness before continuing, 'I am absolutely starving, and if the growls, gurgles, and grumbles from your midsection is any indication, so are you!' Crossing his arm dramatically, he turned forward in his seat and gazed out at the night.

She had laughed, not meaning to, which irritated Cameron. Try as she may, she found she was beginning to like her new boss even if he was obviously interested in more than an employee employer relationship with her.

'I beg your pardon, I jumped to conclusions,' said Cameron, trying desperately to hide her amusement at seeing Wendum pout like a small child. The way he kept checking to see if she was paying attention to him, reminded her greatly of House and Emma, when they did not get their own way. Their arms tightly folded across their chest, with large puppy dog eyes attached.

'So' asked Wendum, 'must both of us perish, or are we allowed to dine?'

Giving him a mock look of disgust, Cameron reached behind her seat and pulled her cell phone from her bag. 'I will feed you, but I need to call home first. And,' interjected Cameron seeing Wendum was about to make a smug remark about winning their squabble, 'the moment we have eaten, I am returning you to the hospital. I have patients I need to see before I finally get to go home.'

'Fine,' smiled Wendum brightly, settling down into his seat, 'call that manic you married and then let us go.'

Cameron smiled to herself as she flipped open the phone and pressed the button for home.

"A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was named)

Remarked, when I bade him farewell--"

"Oh, skip your dear uncle!" the Bellman exclaimed,

As he angrily tingled his bell."

'What?' shouted House into the receiver of the telephone while placing a finger in his ear so he could hear over the screams of his daughter.

'Greg?' came the hesitant, but anxious sound of his wife's voice. 'What wrong? Why is Emma screaming?'

'Because she feels like it,' snapped House. 'She's screamed for the last twenty minutes.'

'What did you do?' The tone of Cameron's voice was accusing.

House blew air into his upper lip and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling before answering. 'I didn't do anything. I suggested someone quit running around like a wild animal and eat their dinner. Some how the notion of us waiting to eat with Mommy hasn't managed to occur, again, tonight.' He made a point to emphasis the last two words.

There was silence for several moments, and then Cameron's voice came back onto the phone. 'Can you put Emma on the phone please?'

'Why?' snarked House, 'She doesn't have a very large vocabulary and she turns it upside down. If I give it to her, she'll drool on it or something.'

'Greg,' snapped Cameron, 'hold the phone up to Emma's ear.'

'Okay, give me a moment.' Laying down the receiver, House turned to the highchair where his daughter sat crying. Macaroni and cheese and mashed potatoes were stuck to her face and clung to her hands, hair, and clothing. Picking up a towel, he tried to wipe away noodles, tears and snot before retrieving the phone and holding it to his daughter's ear. 'Speak to Mommy,' House said in as much of a smoothing tone as he could muster.

Emma looked at her father with defiance in her eyes. 'NO!' she shrieked.

Shaking her head violently and swinging her arms, Emma knocked the receiver from House's hand. Retrieving it quickly, House gave his daughter an evil look, before placing it to his own ear. 'She doesn't want to talk to you.'

He could tell from Cameron's silence she was not happy.

'When will you be home?' asked House quickly, trying to change the subject.

'It's going to be a while still,' came Cameron's quiet response. 'We just finished class, and I still have to check some patients.'

'We?'

'Dr. Wendum is with me.'

House stood silent, waiting for his wife to continue. He could tell from the tone of her voice she was tired and irritable. For a minute or two neither one said a word. Emma, sensing something was happening, fell silent and looked at her father questioningly.

'Emma's quiet.' Cameron said at last.

'Our little daughter is a very clever and astute person Allison. She can tell when her daddy is about to say something very mean and very nasty.'

'Greg,' breath Cameron in his ear, 'not now, please.'

Again House stood silent. He let his eyes wonder around the room before finally settling on Emma, who sat staring at him. 'What do you want me to say Allison?'

This time it was Cameron who was quiet. She looked at Wendum, wishing he could not hear her husband's voice coming across the telephone, but she knew he could. He was watching her closely, and an uncomfortable tension had settled across the car. For these reasons, Cameron chose not to speak and remained silent, hoping her husband would understand the situation she was in.

When the silence felt in terminal, House finally spoke again. 'I need to clean the baby.' His voice was calm and quiet.

'Okay,' came Cameron's reply, 'I'll see you soon.' Not waiting to hear House's reply, Cameron closed the phone and returned it to her bag before turning to Wendum, praying he would not comment. Luckily for Cameron, Wendum had enough decorum to act as if he had not heard what was going to be a potentially brutal fight between husband and wife.

'Hungry?' asked Wendum when he at last thought it was safe to speak.

Not trusting herself to speak, Cameron nodded, as she placed the car into reverse and backed from the parking spot. She prayed the street lights casting light from above would not reveal the tears forming at the edge of her eyes.

"He remarked to me then," said that mildest of men,

"'If your Snark be a Snark, that is right:

Fetch it home by all means—you may serve it with greens,

And it's handy for striking a light.'"

The Hunting of the Snark, By Lewis Carroll