And it starts

Sometime around midnight

Or at least that's when you lose yourself

For a minute or two.

Chase puts his beer down and feels the familiar warmth of a light buzz.

"I have a referral for you, from neurology," Foreman says from across the booth.

"We said we weren't going to talk about work." He answers, dismissing him, paying far more attention to his beer.

"Fine. I'll leave the file on your desk tomorrow."

"You don't have to do that." Still, he keeps staring down at his glass. Behind him, the bar is quickly getting crowded, and the music has turned up a notch.

"Do what? Refer patients to you?"

"I know people are not coming to you with these cases. Park told me she saw you up in neurology checking out files."

Foreman scoffs. "Ok, fine, you caught me. Chase, I just want to help you out. Losing a patient is always..."

Chase finishes his beer and bangs his glass against the table.

"I'm not getting fewer referrals because of her. I'm getting fewer referrals because I'm not House. I'm not a genius, Foreman. And I can't save everyone."

"No one's asking you to save everyone."

Chase locks eyes with Foreman. The background has become blurry and he knows he's drunk too quickly, he's had too much. He should have known Foreman would talk about his referrals, but he hadn't expected to feel so insulted by his will to help him. But then again, it had been his idea to have him run the department after House died. If diagnostics failed, it would reflect badly on him.

He stares at him intently, trying to figure out if his face showed anything other than self-interest.

"Did you drag me down here to lecture me? Because I swear, I'll walk away right now"

"No, Chase. I was just trying to help."

Chase fiddles with his glass.

"I'm fine."

.

They are interrupted by Taub sliding in next to Foreman on the booth.

"Sorry I'm late, babysitter cancelled, I had to get another one," he says, then eyes Chase's empty glass and turns to the bar, rising up three fingers before Foreman can protest. "So, what's up?"

"I was just telling Chase I've got a case for you guys," Foreman says. The waiter comes back with their beers and Chase takes a couple big gulps immediately, before he can think too much of it and stop himself.

"Cool," Taub says. He peers at both of them and seems to notice the tension. He gulps his own beer. "So, did you hear about the ER patient this morning with the blue paint?"

"What?" Foreman asks, a little more enthusiastically than Chase imagined he really felt. He's glad Taub has carried the conversation to lighter topics.

"It wasn't paint, it was dye," Chase says.

"Wait, did you have a case today?" Foreman says.

Chase shrugs. "We just consulted."

"Anyways, so this patient was covered in blue dye. I mean, completely covered, head to toe. It didn't wash off. Turns out she had been working on making her own brand of jeans..."

Taub's voice fades as Chase turns to the side to stare at the bar, and takes another sip of his beer.

Then he sees her.

She stands only a few feet away, a smile on her face and her hand comfortably wrapped around a stranger's. She doesn't look like she's changed at all, her clothes, even the jewellery she wore was familiar to him. She already has a drink in her hand so he figures she's been there awhile, she hasn't just arrived, but her back is turned to him. He pulls his eyes back to Taub, his voice loud once again, and hopes no one has noticed.

Then when he's fake smiling, she turns to him, their eyes only locking for a second. Chase feels his chest tighten and his head floods with memories he thought he'd forgotten. He sees her, transfixed, glance again his way and push away from the bar, squeezing the shoulder of the man next to her before walking to him. His legs move on their own volition and he leaves the booth and glides over the crowded bar to meet her halfway, beer still in his hand.

"Hey," she says, never losing her smile. Her left hand pushes her blonde hair to the side playfully. "I'm just passing through for the night. How have you been?"

Chase forces a weak smile.

"I'm fine. It's all good" he says, and he's unsteady. He wills his mind so say something else, to say something that will matter, but there's nothing there. Cameron looks back towards the bar, where the man is getting ready to leave, and then leans over the table to hug Foreman and shake Taub's hand. Chase remains frozen in place.

"I have to go now, but it was so nice to see you," she says, and she steps closer to kiss him on the cheek. For a second, he sees himself back in his old condo, kissing her through the tear-stains just before she dragged her suitcase out the door. He wants to speak and finds that he can't.

The strange man grabs her hips softly and he feels his hair stand on end, his body pulsing with ugliness and rage and pain. That was his life, he thought. He was supposed to be the one happily married, with one kid in a stroller and another one on the way.

She walks away without saying anything else. On the edge of the door, she turns for a second towards him, still unmoving in the middle of the bar floor.

Then she's gone.

"Chase?" Foreman calls to his right. "You alright?"

Chase walks back towards the table with his gaze still on the door but pays no attention to Foreman. He puts his now empty glass down and then walks away, pulled outside by an invisible thread.

"Chase!" he hears them calling for him, but he's beyond caring. The door swung violently with his push, drawing glances from the nearby tables.

Outside it's raining, and there's no trace of her on either side of the road.

"Sir, your coat…" the doorman says, pointing back inside to the coat check, but he pushes forward, turning right at the corner and letting himself get lost. She can't have walked that far, he thinks, and with that thought in mind, he spotted a couple half hidden under a big umbrella about half a block away.

He picks up the pace, but his gait is unsteady and the streetlights are making circles around him and he has to stop. He knows what he's doing is ridiculous. He knows she has moved on. Before seeing her, he was sure he had moved on, too.

But he's remembered now how much she's hurt him.

How he spent their time together chasing after her.

How he'd always known that he loved her more than she loved him.

Chase looks down the now empty street and keeps on walking. He doesn't care. The rain has soaked through his shirt and stings his eyes, but he doesn't stop. He just has to see her.

So I had this one shot sitting on my hard drive for a while, and I thought I might just as well put it in here. I've never been a fan of snippets but writing this scene was actually pretty fun. I'm still trying to write something longer, but as always, let me know what you think?