Chase laughs at the implication of sinning all over his salvation, but there's not much humor in it. It's sharp and sad and bitter. "I didn't go there looking for salvation," he admits quietly, head tilting back an his blue eyes looking up at the ceiling briefly. Then his gaze flicks back to House, and his gaze is heavy, too intense. The fact that House is here to be a dick seems to be fairly decently established, and that makes this easier. Better than House looking for nuances that aren't there. Chase doesn't think that at this point there's anything left to give away, not really.

"Of course I'm a heathen, I am Australian," he quips back, but his heart isn't in it. It's flat, devoid of inflection or humor or even the pleasure he usually takes in batting jibes with the other man. He knocks back half the shot at once, fully willing to sit there and prove House's point.

He intends to let House sit there, until he gets what he came for or actually asks a question that means something, but Chase isn't that patient. He can't look away from him, but his tone is sharp, almost annoyed, but not really, a different emotion to it. "Why are you here?"