"You're lucky you got here when you did; we're getting full," the receptionist announced, as she slid the key over the desk. "You're in 89. Second floor."

"Thanks," Chase said, and accompanied Cameron to the stairs, which they ascended in silence. Stepping off the last stair, he asked, "Do you think House'll be okay in the truck all night?"

She was quiet, walking down the hall in a huff.

"Okay. Hope you aren't planning on deserting me here. That would be ironic."

"Are you familiar with me at all?"

"Apparently not."

They continued trundling down the hall in icy silence, finally stopping in front of door number 89. Chase unlocked the door and they let themselves in, taking off their jackets. It was nice enough to call home. A few paces in front of the door was the mini-fridge, above which was a small shelf storing some magazines and a crossword book. Across from the mini-fridge was a double bed, even though they had requested two singles. "Must be a new girl," Chase said. Without a place to hang his jacket, he folded it and dropped it onto the mini-fridge. "Have I thanked you for the ride yet?"

"Yes."

"Just wanted to see if you can still talk."

"Is that how charming you think you are? You think suddenly losing the ability to chat is more likely than me not wanting to?"

"I feel like I should comfort you, but I don't really know what it's like to be rejected by a girl."

Cameron was almost smiling as she looked around their hotel suite.

"Come on, cheer up," he said. "It's just one person. You've got a lot of people who love you. And one of 'em is standing right here."

She looked at him, finally uncrossing her arms as her smile finally broke out of its cage. He stepped closer, extending one hand. "May I take your coat?"

She nodded and handed him her coat, then meandered through the room. She had pulled open the floor-length, vertical blinds to expose the balcony that overlooked the parking lot, and was staring out into the night when Chase's voice broke into her morose thoughts. "Always sucks losing a friend," he said, as he folded her jacket. "First time it happened to me, it was because of my accent. We were in elementary school, but there was this clique of the prettiest, coolest students from every class. We'd been friends forever. He wanted to get in with the cool kids, and I heard it through the grapevine that makin' fun of me was part of the protocol. Found out the hard way that everybody wanted to be part of their gang. But they were so concerned with coolness and such, that all the rejects began hangin' out with me."

She turned to face him with a grin, arms crossed. "So what did the uncool kids do?"

"Mostly keg parties with fake IDs and pranking the staff."

Now she frowned at him, and he shrugged and spoke simply, "We weren't desperately trying to protect our image! But when they realized how much fun we were, they wanted to partake."

"Did you let them?"

"No, you kidding? Said we had a requirement that was beyond them. Heart."

"Makes me wonder what the cool kids did. I mean, at your school...obviously," she hastily amended, when he cocked an eyebrow.

"Um...not much. Sat around chatting all day."

"You mean like this?" she asked, and when he made a face at her she playfully pushed on his shoulder. "Come on, Chase. Seriously, what was the wildest thing you ever did?"

"I am not answering that. It's a trap."

"Will you tell me if I tell you?"

He scoffed. "If you say Got married in college, I'm not playing."

She smiled and shook her head as she sat on the foot of the bed beside him. "The wildest thing I ever did...was a cheerleader."

"What? For real?" he asked, and raised his eyebrows, silent for a moment in shock. "So were you trying to make the pyramid, or were you already on top?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. I was actually at rock bottom. I got...so wasted trying to make it all go away. And when I woke up...there she was," she concluded awkwardly. "I snuck out and we never spoke of it."

She looked into his dumbfounded face. "Your turn."

Chase sat in silence for a moment, then covered his eyes with both hands. "Oh, can't you just let me take this to my grave?"

"Nope."

"Ugh, fine." He dropped his hands and avoided her eyes. "Okay. Well...a lot of our keg parties involved dares. Wildest thing they ever had me do was breathe in helium, call the White House, and...sing something," he muttered.

As Cameron began to roar, he shook his head and muttered, "Now I want to get wasted."

"They have a bar downstairs," she gasped, and watched him head for the door. "Chase," she said, and he looked at her, "I dare you to dance on the counter!"

He made a face at her and left the suite. Alone, Cameron stood up and crossed the room, stepping out into the cool night as her giggles subsided. She looked down at her vehicle and saw the glowing screen of a smartphone. Hadn't House been using a flip phone? She patted her pockets and discovered that he had swiped hers like a pro. Then the car went dark and House got out of the vehicle, looking right up at her as he limped for the building. "You know this place has a bar?" he yelled, heedless of all who might hear him. He disappeared under the building and Cameron listened to him open the door, fumbling the knob. Then the door banged closed again, isolating her in immortal regret.

Chase had already knocked down half a bottle when House came into the bar. The first thing he noticed was that everyone was limited to a bottle, and how respectfully quiet the patrons were. And how they were looking at him in annoyance.

His colleague was alone in a booth, literally guzzling beer. His eyes were huge as he stared blankly at the ceiling; then he finally took a break, if only to belch like a sailor.

House slid in across from him. "My company is not that bad."

"It's not you. I know," he added, "It surprises me, too."

"Is it Cameron?"

"No, it's..." Chase realized he was being loud, and his words bumbled to a falter as he garnered the attention of multiple people. "I don't know what it is."

"Okay, well, if we're not bashing Cameron, I'll just go to my own table."

"You really thought I'd bash the woman I married?"

"Yeah!" House snapped, as he painfully stood up. "Guess you weren't as in love with her as I thought," he added in a mutter, as he went to the counter. Ordering his beer, he snuck a furtive look over his shoulder, watching Chase polish off his beverage. He faced forward again and tried not to be curious, tried not to care, but he knew it was too late. Receiving his beverage moments later, he paid for it with the money he had illegally accumulated, then turned around to see Chase just sitting there. A woman was trying to speak to him. And she was so gorgeous, House knew Chase had to be a million miles away not to notice her.

House approached the waitress. "Sorry. He's with me."

She left, though not before giving House a very obvious once-over. House sat back in the booth and lay down his cane, then proceeded to reach over the table and snap his fingers right in front of his colleague's eyes. "Damn," he muttered, as Chase looked at him. "I was hoping I'd have to hit you."

"What do you want, House?"

"Sex. Oh, you mean from you?" he added. "I'd be cool with an inheritance."

Chase leaned back in his seat, frowning at him. "Do you have the car keys?"

"Yeah, you need 'em?"

"No. I just wanted to know that you don't need to come up to the room."

"Wow. You're a mean drunk when you go to a hotel with your unattainable ex-wife. Never noticed that before."

Chase tapped his fingers on the table, looked around the room at the nearby patrons, then leaned in closer and spoke quietly. "Something is...is really wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I think I'm having psychotic breaks. I keep seeing this monster, with huge claws; and I'm trying to block it out, but I just... It's really hard."

"Yeah, right. Sure. A highly qualified doctor is traumatized by some ridiculous hallucination. I'm not falling for it, Chase. What do you think this is—elementary school?"

"Okay, I know I'm going to regret asking, but how do you know about that?"

"Let me put it to you this way. The only thing I don't know about you is the point you're trying to make right now."

"Well, it's freaky... Thought you were the one person who could relate."

House's eyes flicked up past Chase's head as he saw a mirage of Wilson tending the bar. He had to force himself to look at Chase and maintain composure. "You were mistaken. I haven't seen ghosts since Mayfield."

"Maybe I should go to Mayfield," Chase muttered, as House stood up once more.

House paused, sighing. "Nah, don't bother. Big waste of time," he growled, and left the bar. Chase watched him go, finding himself lost underneath a stack of unanswered questions.