House is assholishly pleased to see that Chase jumped when he banged the cane on the bar. It's a smug, self-satisfied feeling, and he just waits. Lurks in Chase's personal space and lets that and his words push what they will from him, and he just waits and watches it happen. He glances up at the bartender, barely moving, just following him with his eyes and then he's looking back at Chase. He's got that kind of owlish expression, like he's weighing every possibility, figuring things out actively and there's nothing you can do to avoid giving yourself away.

He gestures to himself and nods, "I'll have the same," he says to the bartender. Then, it's back to Chase.

"Long enough to know that you're about a shot away from sinning all over whatever salvation you found on your last stop," he says.

He eyes the new drink that the bartender left. He knocks back the shot and then pushes the empty glass away. It's not shitty shot whiskey, but sipping whiskey. Chase isn't just looking to get desperately drunk, he's wasting perfectly good booze on punishing himself. Now, House just looks disapproving.

"You don't just knock back whiskey like this. What are you, some kind of heathen?"