For this lyric interlude, we shall have verisimilitude

Distractions put us in a passion

In Skin Deep he was a bit of a creep

They are making it hard for we bards

For the story to tell, the show I must dispel

I must concentrate for the stories sake.

As it has been on hold, while I had the vicious cold

Some are beginning to disparage there will be a miscarriage.

Will Wendum the philanderer make Cameron an adulterer?

What will House do to the louse?

What is in store and will there be gore?

I cannot at this time say, but only relay.

The answers will be found in the chapters.

So without further construe, the disclaimer I give you.

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

So enjoy the tale, there will be more without fail.

"For the Snark's a peculiar creature, that won't

Be caught in a commonplace way.

Do all that you know, and try all that you don't:

Not a chance must be wasted to-day!"

Cameron rested her head on her arm, closing her eyes and breathing heavily. The side of the toilet basin felt cool against her side as she gulped in air, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Her throat hurt and her head was pounding from the force of her vomiting. She was weak, but Cameron knew she needed to get up. She needed to check to see if she had lost the baby. Opening her eyes, Cameron stared at the toilet water; marshalling her strength as her other arm wrapped itself around her waist subconsciously reassuring the baby.

Carefully, Cameron raised her head and pushed herself into a sitting position, leaning her back against the clothes hamper for support. The pain had subsided to a dull, throbbing ache, but it was still there, worrying her. As a rule, Cameron had long since given up in her belief in the existence of God, or of any deity capable of benign benevolence; now however, Cameron found she was praying as she allowed her hand to push inside her underwear. Running her hand between her legs, she closed her eyes tightly as she withdrew her hand and held it before her. She was determined she was not going to panic if she opened her eyes and found blood.

Taking a deep breath, and uttering every prayer she could think of, Cameron forced herself to look at her hand. It was fine. There was no blood. Tears of joy sprang to her eyes, even though as a doctor, Cameron knew she and the baby were far from being completely safe as of yet. She needed to go to the hospital; most miscarriages occurred in the first trimester of pregnancy, and at her age it, was possible. The pain, thought Cameron, could be the precursor; she needed a pelvic, her progesterone levels checked, and maybe even a CBC. 'And,' thought Cameron, 'I need my husband.'

Bracing herself against the hamper, Cameron tried to stand, but gravity worked against her as the room began to spin. Her head felt as if it were about to burst. Coercing herself not to be ill, Cameron rolled on to her knees and was preparing to stand when there came sudden hammering on her front door. Baffled, Cameron listened as the knocker became more persistent in their demands for entry. For an instant, Cameron thought of Wendum and the possibility he had discovered where she lived. She didn't think she had told him the exact location of her home, but she remembered him asking if she lived near the hospital. Cameron had replied she and House had purchased a home in a nearby 'child friendly' neighborhood when she had become pregnant with Emma, but she was certain she had not told Wendum where.

The pounding on the door suddenly halted, but was quickly replaced with another sound. The knocker had found the doorbell and was repeatedly banging on it, sending loud chimes throughout the house. Emma, awaken from the pounding on the door and the banging of the chimes, joined the bell with wails of fright. Then as quickly as it had started, the chimes ended, sending a wave of relief through Cameron. Only Emma's cries could now be heard.

Still weak, Cameron's mother instincts kicked in, helping to her cross her bedroom to her daughter's room. Using the doorframe as support, Cameron leaned against it gathering strength before approaching Emma. If she there were any possibilities at all her pain was the warning signs of a miscarriage, she could not risk lifting Emma from her crib. Crossing to the crib, Cameron reached out to her daughter, running her hand through the child's hair.

'Mommy's here honey,' smoothed Cameron. Emma's piercing screams were like lightening strikes to her migraine.

'Daddy!' screamed Emma, her face scrunched up in fright and indigestion. 'DDDAAADDDDYYYYY!'

'Emma' said Cameron more sternly than she had indented, 'stop screaming.'

'Daddy' wailed the child, tears covering her face as she held out her arms for Cameron to lift her.

Cameron's heart sank. 'I can't honey. Mommy can't. You've got to stay in your crib.'

The look of rejection on Emma's face almost made Cameron reconsider what a risk lifting Emma's weight would be, but she knew she could not risk it; just as she knew she was going to have to leave Emma screaming while she called for an ambulance. She should have already called; the risks she was taking to herself and the baby were increasing with each fleeting second she waited. Walking around was a complete act of stupidity, Cameron knew that, but her gut reaction was to consider Emma first.

'DDDDAAAADDYYYY,' again came Emma's wail as a shadow blocked out the light which had been spilling into the room.

'Greg,' uttered Cameron she turned on her heel to face the figure in the doorframe.

'No,' replied the man as he stepped into the room and switched on the light, 'Uncle Jimmy. What's going on?'

'Wilson,' breathed Cameron, 'thank God.' Tears flooded her eyes as her tongue tripped over her next words. 'Greg went after Wendum, and I can't lift Emma because I think I might be starting to miscarry, but someone was at the door, and I was going to call for an ambulance, but Emma started crying and I had to know she was alright, but I'm afraid to pick her up.'

'Okay, okay,' Wilson held up his hands for her to stop as he moved passed Cameron to the crib and lifted Emma into his arms. 'I have no idea what you just said over the fog horn here.'

Emma, finally released from her crib prison, buried her cherub head in Wilson's shoulder sniffing loudly.

Cameron, unsteady on her feet, gingerly sat down in the nursery rocking chair. Now her adrenaline rush was beginning to subside, the pain in her head was becoming overwhelming, making her forget the cramping pains in her abdomen.

'Are you alright?' asked Wilson. Cameron was extremely pale, and the look in her eyes was lifeless with pain.

'Call an ambulance.'

'Why? What's wrong?' asked Wilson wondering if Emma would return to her crib. She had put her thumb in her mouth and was lying heavily on his shoulder.

'I think I am about to have a miscarriage.'

'You're pregnant?'

'Yes! Call an ambulance! NOW,'' yelped Cameron setting back in the chair.

Without hesitation, Wilson crossed to the bedroom, set Emma down on the bed willing her not to cry, and picked the phone receiver from the floor where Cameron had previous dropped it. Quickly dialing 911, he gave the address, and then checked Emma before returning to her mother.

'What are your symptoms?' Wilson knelt before the rocker, speaking quietly and easily.

'My abdomen hurts, I was sick, and my head is going to explode,' a ghost of a smile flickered on Cameron's face. 'No blood, so there still may be time.'

'Where's Greg?'

'He went after Wendum,' was all Cameron said, as her eyes fell on the little figure with its thumb in its mouth reaching for its rabbit Wopples through the bars of the crib.

Already the sound of sirens could be heard. One of the advantages of being a doctor, who lived near the hospital, thought Wilson as he retrieved Wopples for Emma and turned back to Cameron.

'Don't move. I'll let them in and then later you can tell me what this is all about.' He turned to Emma, 'Can you take care of Mommy for me?' he asked gently.

'No,' nodded Emma with her thumb still in her mouth.

'Good,' getting up, Wilson raced to the door to collect the paramedics and lead them back to Cameron. As the EMTs placed her on a gurney and ushered her into the ambulance, Wilson continually reassured Cameron everything would be fine. Watching with Emma in his arms as the ambulance pulled away, Wilson tried to reassure himself everything would be fine, even if he did not have the slightest notion what was happening.

'Emma,' said Wilson, turning his attention to the child in his arms. 'Let's get your diaper bag and car seat, then, on our way to the hospital, let's page Daddy and see what the hell is going on.'

Then the Banker endorsed a blank check (which he crossed),

And changed his loose silver for notes.

The Baker with care combed his whiskers and hair'

And shook the dust out of his coats.

The Maker of Bonnets ferociously planned

A novel arrangement of bows;

While the Billiard-marker with quivering hand

Was chalking the tip of his nose.

The journey to the hospital was mercifully short and before she knew it, Cameron was in a examining room, feet planted firmly in stirrups. The on-call obstetrician, a young lady named Annabella Strewart was a second year fellow, and was known only in passing to Cameron, but her touch was light and her demeanor was reassuring. Finishing her exam, Annabella removed her gloves and lowered the stirrups before smiling at Cameron.

'As you know from the ultra sound, there is a strong fetal heart beat and from the look of the pelvic, the uterine wall looks fine. And, as soon as your CBC and progesterone test returns, I think we will be in the clear, but I want them before I give you a definitive answer. Either way, I want to hold you for observation.'

Cameron gave a huge sigh of relief as she realized she had been holding her breath. 'Thank God,' she mumbled to herself before turning her attention back to the obstetrician.

Annabella Stewart looked at Cameron and flushed in embarrassment. 'Dr. Cameron, I really don't know how to put this, but you and Dr. House are going to have to be much more careful. You have some pretty severe bruising, and although this time was a false alarm, if you continue to have rough sex, you may not be as lucky next time.'

'Do you think that is what happened?' asked Cameron sheepishly remembering the previous events with House.

'It didn't help, but it could also be stress related from the accident, which would also account for the migraine. It could be even be from trauma.' This time Annabella looked away before asking her next question, trepidation was in her voice. 'He didn't do anything against your will did he?'

'Who?' asked Cameron as Wendum flew into her mind.

'Whomever,' replied Annabella seriously, 'I said Dr. House, but considering everything which has happened this evening, you may not have been with him.'

Cameron's eyes narrowed as she pulled herself into a sitting position. 'Considering what?' there was warning in her voice, 'I can assure you my husband is the only person I have slept with and yes, we did,' Cameron hesitated looking for the right words, 'become aggressive this evening, but no matter what you might have heard about Dr. House; I can assure you he didn't do anything I didn't ask him to do.'

Annabella pressed her lips together, and nodded at Cameron. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. It's just, first there was the accident and then Dr. Wilson brought you in. I immediately thought you were reacting to the stress until I saw the extent of your bruising.' She hesitated, 'I had to ask, you do understand.'

'No, I don't,' said Cameron as something clicked in her mind. She looked at Annabella questioningly, 'What accident?'

Annabella looked surprised as she stared at Cameron. 'Don't you know? Dr. House crashed his motorcycle in to the side entrance about an hour ago. He's three doors down with Drs. Cuddy and Parkes.'