These characters are not mine, in any shape, form or kind,

I have no right for what I do, in attempts to entertain you,

"I engage with the Snark –every night after dark—

In a dreamy delirious fight:

I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenes,

And I use it for striking a light:

But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that day,

In a moment (of this I am sure),

I shall softly and suddenly vanish away—

And the notion I cannot endure!"

The Hunting of the Snark, by Lewis Carroll

House looked at the clock. 'Eleven,' he mumbled to himself, taking another drink of his glass of scotch. He grimaced as he picked up the bottle and discovered it was half gone. It had been sometime since he had found solace in a bottle. Since Cameron, and since the birth of his child, House looked forward to every moment of his life. Both his drinking and his Vicodin intake had been extremely reduced.

Through the haze of drunken stupor, House heard a noise and prayed his daughter hadn't chosen this night, of all nights, to escape from her crib. Since her birth, he had been very careful that Emma had never seen him wasted. Staggering now towards her room, it occurred to House he hadn't actually been wasted since her birth. 'What have they done to me?' he asked himself aloud, peering through the half open door to the crib. House could see his daughter had turned over, knocking off her blanket. Trying to move quietly, he crossed to the crib and pulled the blanket back into place, careful not to wake the sleeping baby. Satisfied, she was sleeping peacefully; House checked the baby monitor and staggered towards his own bedroom. 'Emma, Mommy will kill me if I pass out.' House snorted quietly.

Making it across the hallway, House let his cane drop the moment he crossed the threshold of his and Cameron's bedroom. With faltering steps, he headed towards the bed falling on it face first. As the room began to revolve around him, House turned onto his back, kicking off his shoes. 'Cameron where are you?' he asked the ceiling. Not receiving an answer, he struggled into a sitting position and attempted to unbutton his shirt. Deciding the effort was futile, House finally managed to pull both his shirt and tee-shirt over his head on his forth attempt. Falling back onto the bed, House was uncertain if he had blacked out or not, as he became aware someone had entered the room.

Struggling up onto his elbow, House watched as his wife entered their bedroom. 'What's wrong?' he asked. Even through the drunken and drugged out haze in his mind, he could tell there was something serious happening with Cameron. As she entered, Cameron had dropped her coat on the floor, and in one swift move divested herself of her blouse and slacks. Without saying a word, she crawled on to the bed, and on to House.

Reaching up, House took his wife's head between his hands, running his fingers into her hair. He could tell she had been crying. 'What's wrong?' he asked again, the look in her eyes frightening him, sobering his thoughts.

'Greg,' breathed Cameron as she pressed her body against him, her mouth seeking his.

As their lips connected, their mouths opened allowing their tongues to explode into the other's mouth. The kiss was intense and furious, becoming harder and fierier at every moment. When at last they ran out of oxygen, Cameron pulled back gasping. Reaching for House's pants, she yanked loose the belt and pulled at the fastening of the jeans with such intensity; it broke and flew across the room. Trying to help, House raised his legs allowing Cameron to slip off his jeans and boxers, her fingernails scrapping down his thighs as she did so.

Reaching up, House grabbed Cameron, pulling her back to him. Again his mouth again found hers, his tongue exploring the depths of her mouth. With one swift move of his fingers, Greg unfastened Allison's bra revealing her breast. Placing his hand on her stomach, he slowly ran his fingers over her body, smiling against her lips as he felt her breast swell with his touch. Dropping his head, House let his mouth and tongue begin to explore his wife's body. He could feel her hands in his hair guiding him, encouraging him. Working his way down her body, he spent several minutes teasing and sucking at her breast, before moving down to her stomach and thighs. Finally, unable to control her need for him any long, Cameron guided House's mouth back to her own; again kissing him deeply; her tongue fighting a war with his.

As Cameron ran her hands over his body, House pulled away from the kiss and reached to remove her panties. This he did slowly, kneeling between her legs, leaving delicate, gentle kisses in his wake. Cameron moaned loudly as he flung her panties to floor and allowed his hands to run up her body, exploring her. Unable to stand the passion any longer Cameron reached for House, pulling her husband to her.

At first the rhythm of their combined bodies was soft and gentle as their hands groped and their mouths explored the other's body. Cameron tilted back her head, arching her body against him. Then, as the intensity of the moment, increased House could feel a change in Cameron. 'Greg,' she breathed heavily in his ear as she wrapped her legs around his, her hunger for him increasing, 'harder.'

Obeying her command, House increased his pace, his breath coming quicker as his passion increased. 'Faster Greg,' Cameron pleaded ashe buried his head into her shoulder. 'Harder, faster.' Sweat covered their bodies as Cameron wrapped her arms tighter around House, guiding him, urging him on. 'Harder, Greg, harder' moaned Cameron loudly, 'please!'

House felt as if the world was about to explode. With every thrust he made, Cameron was meeting her hips to his, 'please Greg, harder,' she begged in his ear, making the intensity deeper and more electrifying between them. The loud cries of pleasure and the moans of urging, begging him on further only increased the experience. 'Faster Greg, harder.' In some vague part of House's mind he thought he had never, in his life, had a sexual moment like this one, and if he lived through it, he would never have a moment like this again. 'Greg, PLEASE.'

With his heart pounding, and his breath coming in short ragged gasp, House did not know how much longer he was going to last. Still Cameron clung to him, moaning in to his ear, 'please Greg please, harder, faster.' He could feel her fingernail digging into his back, drawing blood so intently was she clinging to him, her need for him insatiable. Finally, when he could stand it no longer, the world finally did explode around him. House felt Cameron's entire body arch against him as they each let out loud screams of elation. House tried to catch himself as he fell back onto the bed, but couldn't. Panting, House lay, holding his wife to him as he waited for his heart to stop pounding. So intense had been strain on his mind and body, he found he was render incapable of coherent thought and his body refused to move. Cameron, gasping for breath, her heart feeling as it were about to beat through her ribs, ran a hand through House's sweat soaked hair.

'Greg?' gasped Cameron, her eyes unable to focus. Fingers fluttered on her arm and a low murmur sounded in the crook of her neck. Cameron could feel House's hot breath stinging her skin as he tried to regain control of his body. As both their breathing slowed to the point of ragged breaths, Cameron could feel House's body start to shake with light airy laughter.

'What the hell was that?' he breathed between gasp, his breath still short. 'You almost killed me.' Determining he had a little strength left, House gently disentangled himself from her grasp. 'What happened to 'touch me and I'll divorce you?' he asked.

When she didn't respond, he lifted himself onto his elbow, looked at his wife and panicked.

'Cameron?' cried House, instantly on his knees running his hands and eyes across her body. 'God, what's wrong? Where did I hurt you?' Before he knew he had done it, House had grabbed Cameron by the shoulders and was shaking her. 'Allison!' he yelled.

'Greg quit,' snapped Cameron batting away his hands and arms. 'It's not me, it's you.'

House looked at her in confusion, his anxiety not abating, 'What?'

Cameron let go of her husband and fell back into the pillows, 'And you're the one who is famous. The blood is yours Greg, not mine. Calm down.'

House blinked at her.

'I hurt you,' assured Cameron, 'I ripped your back apart. You are the one bleeding.'

Slowly realization came into his face. 'Are you certain, I didn't hurt you?' he asked cautiously.

'No,' answered Cameron honestly.

'The baby?'

'I think its fine….I hope its fine'

Laying down, House pulled Cameron close to him. 'What's going on,' he whispered into her ear, as he gently pushed strands of damp hair from her face. His lungs were still burning.

For a long time Cameron laid there, nestled against him. As much as he wanted to, House didn't dare fall asleep. Something had happened, and he had to wait until Cameron was willing to tell him. If there was one thing in the world which peek House's curiosity, it was an anomaly, and this was one. When the tears came, House still didn't speak, he just held his wife tighter. As Cameron's raging sobs finally started to abate, he at last asked again.

'Allison, what happened?'

'I,' Cameron swallowed hard, she found the words were hard to say. Knowing what her husband's reaction was going to be made the words harder. She wanted to look at him when she told him, but found she couldn't.

'Greg, I' again she paused, and then taking a deep breath. 'I was attacked.'

Cameron felt House's entire body stiffen. Letting her go, he raised himself, placing his arms on either side of her body so he could look down into her face. 'You were what?' he asked his face and voice unreadable.

'I was attacked' Cameron quietly answered, not wanting to meet his eyes.

For several second he stared at her, before uttering his next question. Cameron could tell House was not taking the news well. His body had grown taut and he kept clenching and unclenching his jaw. 'Allison,' he voice had grown extremely quiet, 'do you know who it was?'

Rolling away from him, Cameron nodded as she reached for a pillow, hugging it to her. 'It was Wendum.'

Sitting up, House scooted to the edge of the bed and reached for his pants. There was a look of death set on his face and in his eyes as he pulled them on.

'Greg.' Cameron cursed to herself as she rolled off the bed, 'what are you doing?' Grabbing his tee-shirt she pulled it on, before he could reach for it.

Giving her a look, House snatched his button-up from the floor and pulled it over his head as he reached for his shoes.

'Greg?' Cameron asked again, fear flowing through her. When he didn't answer, Cameron snatched his cane from the floor and held it behind her.

House rose and stood in front of his wife, his eyes were blazing. 'Give me my cane Cameron.'

'No.'

'Allison,' demanded House

'You'll wake the baby Greg, stop yelling.' Cameron took a step back from him, cane firmly in hand.

'Wake the baby, after what she just slept through? Please.'

Cameron looked at her husband, her voice stern when she spoke. 'You are not leaving this house.'

House stood and looked at his wife, their eyes meeting. 'Are you trying to defend him?'

'No,' declared Cameron. 'I'm trying to keep you from doing something stupid.'

For several more seconds they stood glaring each, then, turning on his good leg, House limped towards the bedroom door. 'Keep the damn thing; I don't need it with the bike.'

Cameron knew there was no way to stop him. Grabbing the telephone, she quickly began to dial.