A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, folks. Here's a Saturday update. Next chapter, we get back on the stand.

Must say, now that you know the flip side of it, that I have loved the title of this story from the beginning. Sometimes a story comes with a title attached from the initial idea, as this one did. Sometimes the title joins the playing field later in the process. But this one, with trial and deliberation of evidence going on with more than just Patrick, really seemed to fit.

I do think there is another Pranks story two up after this one, but it's still very preliminary and forming. There is definitely a story right after this one, and that's another little surprise for you. It's a one shot but going somewhere completely different. :)

I also recommend Rikki Tikki Tavi, the classic version narrated by Orson Welles. And, of course, the story by Kipling from which the film came.

Enjoy chapter 10. To prison!

(H/C)

Wednesday morning started out busy from the beginning and hurtled on down the track from there. House meant to nail Jensen down immediately and have a court strategy discussion, working out what the defense attorney was likely to do with this new line. However, Abby and Rachel woke up about the same time he did, very early for them. They were delighted to see their parents after last night's absence and were very demanding of his full attention. It was hard enough just managing to take a shower. A serious conversation with Jensen would have been impossible with them not only present but demanding center stage. Instead, he spent time talking to them, asking about their day yesterday, playing the piano some (not having a lesson session with either, though).

They even watched a 30-minute animated movie, Rikki Tikki Tavi, and as House sat on the couch, both girls and the cat on top of him, and saw the mongoose battling the two cobras, intelligent strategy and tactics combined with just a knock-down, drag-out fight to the death, he couldn't help thinking of court. Stevenson and Patrick, like two cobras, waited for him today. Had to deal with Stevenson and still stay on the offensive against Patrick, who was after all the one on trial. Or maybe his father was a cobra. If so, House had to remember that the fiercer cobra was the second one, as Rikki said, "worse than five" of the other. That had to be his focus; he would not think about his father, other than as a weapon handed to Stevenson to use. It was a line of questioning, no further importance carried, not today, at least. In court, he could not get distracted again. He shouldn't have yesterday. Had to focus.

Cuddy and Jensen watched his face during the movie, which he didn't even notice to get annoyed at, a strong-enough statement of his state of mind. His thoughts written there were fairly easy to read. Jensen wished that they had had a few minutes to talk about court today rather than letting House stew on it alone, but he also could tell that House was determinedly shoving away the whole separate issue of his father. In a way, he was correct; Patrick did have to be his focus while on the stand. But the psychiatrist didn't think House would be much more inclined to talk about his father even after his testimony was over, and Jensen was going to have to push it there and insist. House couldn't avoid his feelings about the new situation with the man abruptly back in his life, even if he tried to deflect talking through it, and he didn't need to be thinking and obsessing over this privately.

There was also the anger, the absolute rage that had been in him, something he had never shown in sessions. Even when he thought Jensen had given his information to Patrick, it hadn't been close to that level. That had been an immediate, uncontrolled, obviously subconscious reaction the instant he saw the other man. The limited times they had mentioned his biological father in sessions, even when talking about his plea for help at age 6, he hadn't responded like that. This was obviously something new, something previously deeply buried blazing up now in full flame from his subconscious. Jensen knew the self-destructive power of anger. That, too, needed to be discussed once his testimony was over, and the psychiatrist thought that House would be even more resistant talking about his anger than he would about his father in general. Dodging talking about his father's return would be deliberate; dodging talking about his anger would be a desperate subconscious protective measure. Definitely a tough session on the horizon.

But first the remainder of his testimony. That temporarily had to take priority.

Martin called about 6:30, just as the movie was ending. House had to admire the man's restraint; in the prosecutor's shoes, he probably would have called last night. Their conversation was brief, and House pocketed his cell phone and looked up to find Cuddy and Jensen both clearly waiting for a report. "I've been summoned to the principal's office 30 minutes before court starts." He sighed. "Can't blame him."

"He just wants to talk about strategies, Greg. That's good; you want to do that yourself." Well, Cuddy knew that Martin also wanted to get a reading on his witness's frame of mind and stability today before facing him in open court so he'd know what he had to deal with. But no point in saying that to House.

"Yeah, right. He also wants to make sure I'm not going to get distracted on minor things again. I can hear it now: Pay attention. Got it." He moved the girls over apologetically and heaved himself to his feet as Marina arrived. Cuddy and Jensen exchanged a private look. Did he just call having his biological father abruptly reenter his life after decades a minor thing?

Marina was openly curious, though hiding it in front of the girls, who were still immediately underfoot. Another round of lucky cereal was served, although Cuddy did, to Marina's disapproval, heat up a slice of leftover pizza for House as well, saying he could have that if he ate the cereal, too. Rachel had missed the arrival of the pizza and now immediately demanded pizza for breakfast herself instead of cereal. Marina dug in there; one small bite for each girl, and that was it. Belle presented underneath House's chair, and he dropped a pepperoni and then finished the slice off himself.

Leaving was traumatic. Rachel threw a full-scale fit worthy of Cathy, insisting on going with him today. Abby was softer but wouldn't let him go, and it took the other adults physically to restrain the two girls long enough to let House, with repeated promises that he would see them tonight, escape through the front door.

Out in the driveway, House folded himself stiffly into the car as the other two easily caught up with him. He let out a deep breath, and Cuddy looked over at him as she took the wheel. "Just think, Greg, Stevenson probably has nothing compared to Rachel. So the worst battle of today is over already."

He gave a weak grin. "Love to see that match-up. My money would be on Rachel." He twisted to look into the back seat at Jensen, flinching slightly as the movement tweaked his leg. "We have got to run over strategies for today. This changes things with the defense."

Jensen didn't dodge the topic this time, nor did he push to expand it. "Martin will have some valuable input there. I was thinking, though. I really don't think it changes things too much. Stevenson had no details from those notes, no name, no data, nothing. Even hearing that confrontation last night, he only has what we handed him."

"You mean what I handed him," House challenged.

"No, I meant we. Every one of us, me included, contributed to that scene. We should have noticed Stevenson listening. I should never have said what I did in front of him, that you don't need to do this right now, because he knows I'm your psychiatrist; Patrick would have expected me to come, and Patrick after the first hearing knows exactly who I am. From me, Stevenson took that as a therapeutic analysis, as a sort of mini session, not just as a friend's objection. It was actually James and not you yourself who publicly identified your father. Dr. Cuddy threw a needed fit there to go along but also gave the defense direct confirmation that you've always, until recently, felt alone. Even Martin wasn't paying attention to the audience and expressed concern for the case. All of us made mistakes last night."

"Except . . ." Cuddy started thoughtfully, then trailed off, trying too late to block the thought.

House turned to her quickly enough that he pulled his leg again. "So you don't think turning up like the prodigal father in open court after decades of staying away was a mistake?"

"That's not what I meant, Greg. I just meant that he was trying to be discreet and go somewhere private to talk. Yes, I do think turning up abruptly in court was a mistake, but he didn't think you'd see him in back, and he didn't have time to set up anything else. He only realized what was going on last week."

"He's good at missing things," House snapped and then visibly wrenched himself back to the topic of court half a second before Jensen did. "But back to court, which is where we're about to be. So granted we all screwed up last night. How is that not as bad as I think?"

"Even with what we gave him," the psychiatrist said, "the details are very limited. He knows that you are mad at your biological father. He does not know the reason for that; he can only guess." Jensen wasn't convinced that House himself understood the reason for it, but that was a conversation for another day. "He knows that you don't think you ever had a real father, but approaching that topic is also very dangerous ground for his case, because the jury would sympathize strongly with your statement there. Remember, sympathy is not pity. He also knows that I think there is more going on there but has no idea what. He knows that you've always been alone, but really, that was a reasonable extension from your background. His new information is very limited."

House nodded after a moment as he analyzed that scene in retrospect. Jensen continued.

"So he's going to be trying to add more details, trying to fish. Lawyers only do that as a last resort. They usually try to avoid asking questions on the stand to which they don't know the answer; it's a desperation strategy. That throws the ball straight back to you. He only has what we've already given him, and it really is just a tiny fraction of the story. As long as you don't give him more, he's stuck. You can frustrate the hell out of him by just briefly agreeing with what he knows and not letting him take it anywhere beyond that. The more he pushes with nothing gained, the more he hurts himself and Patrick with the jury."

House tilted his head, considering that, and Cuddy focused on her driving and firmly kept her mouth shut. Mental note to self, Lisa: Be careful making any positive statement about his father, even an innocent one. That topic is way too charged at the moment. Only bring him up if asked; let Jensen deal with it. Thank God for Jensen.

"You still have more control of things today than you think," Jensen emphasized. "And it is a marvelous opportunity to annoy him."

"Yeah, glad this all came up," House muttered, but he was appreciating the thought.

"You also have Martin, not to mention the judge. There are limits and rules on how far he can push. And he doesn't get the chance to talk to me, or Dr. Cuddy, or Dr. Wilson. He's stuck guessing at the whole back story while questioning you, because he does not have it."

House was thoughtful for the rest of the drive to court, still tense but a little more directed, at least. Martin was waiting for them in the courthouse lobby, the place already filling up rapidly. Wilson wasn't here yet; they were 30 minutes ahead of their advertised schedule. House resisted the temptation to look around for Thomas Thornton. Martin led the three of them to his office, which was down a quieter hall a little away from the circus. The prosecutor offered coffee all around, and he already had an open package of doughnuts sitting out on his desk. Bribery, House thought, but he stuffed down a chocolate one quickly as Martin was getting everyone settled. The prosecutor was practically oozing routine, steady control, obviously a rehearsed performance.

Martin finally took his seat behind his desk. He had been studying House surreptitiously from the lobby on, and he was reassured. The man at least did look like he had slept, and while he was tense, he was hardly distracted right now. Martin had heard from Andrews and seen himself how compartmentalized House could be. He hoped he would be today. "About yesterday," he started. "I realize that was a great shock to you. For today, just don't look out at the crowd or the media either. Only at me and your family in the front row."

"He's not going to be here today," House stated. "Well, actually, he is, but I told him to go to the overflow room so I wouldn't have to look at him. So he won't be out there today. It's not an issue."

"Even so, try not to look past that first row. Stevenson heard all that." House gave a short nod, confirming that he already knew this. "I wouldn't put it past Stevenson to try to plant people who look similar to people from your past; it's one thing I thought of last night that he might come up with fairly quickly if he tried. Since he saw you get distracted on the stand, he might try to repeat that. If somebody very similar to John House shows up, you don't need to notice him."

House shook his head. "They haven't got a picture of him. That was how the PI got caught, remember?"

"He was a well-decorated Marine. I found one shot myself online last night from the obituary."

House flinched but then steadied. "Even if they found somebody who looked like him physically, I doubt it would look like him. Remember, nobody until Patrick has physically reminded me of him, and they don't really look alike at all. He wasn't just a case of hair and eyes like this. But I get the point. Don't watch the crowd."

"About Stevenson, he's going to be trying to push you, trying to find out more. He still doesn't know much. Just remember, he only knows what you tell him. Calmly answer the questions and go on. The judge will call him out if he keeps hammering on the same question once you have given a response. This morning, we're going to start out with a little bit of review, just to remind the jury of details. They've had the night off." Also to give them a better picture of House testifying to this than the last one he had left them with. "Then we'll finish up your background and get into the real heart of the case, your testimony against Chandler. I'll try not to prolong it, but we really do have a lot to get through, and Stevenson can object. If it's getting to the point where I think we'll be finishing mid afternoon or later, I will slow down and drag things out a little more to stay with direct until the judge dismisses. I do think it will probably be today, but just in case things take longer than expected, I won't let you start cross late in the afternoon."

Martin paused for a swallow of his coffee, then continued. "One other thing. You were getting pretty tired yesterday afternoon, even before your biological father showed up."

"It had been a hell of a day already, even without him," House pointed out, immediately getting defensive.

"I know, and I understand. There are genuine reasons for it; it's not a weakness. I just wanted to say, Stevenson noticed that, too. He will try to use that. He will deliberately try to take advantage of it and hammer away even harder late in the day. You have the breaks every hour; use them. If you really get to the point where you have nothing at all left, let me know, and I'll ask - privately - if we can dismiss and pick it back up tomorrow. No other witness has to deal with chronic pain as well as testifying. The judge knows about your physical issues. He would understand."

House sighed. "Sounds like everybody knows about my physical issues. So Stevenson brought up my leg cross examining Cranston?"

Cuddy straightened up, not having realized this. Martin gave House a friendly smile. "Yes, he did, but believe me, that backfired. He was trying to minimize the effects of it and say that you didn't really need painkillers and were just an addict. Cranston was absolutely unshakable there. The physical evidence from that scan is undeniable. Stevenson wound up losing points with the jury by going after that so hard, and he didn't get anything in return." Martin had actually asked Cranston to be prepared on that point; he had thought House's leg might come up. But there had been no point in telling House that before the fact. "Nobody in the room was sympathetic to him by the end of that line except for Chandler." Martin looked at his watch and stood up. "Let's go; the judge will be in soon. Just look at me and Dr. Cuddy, Dr. House, and remember, Stevenson has nothing more unless you give it to him. Don't let him rattle you."

They walked back out down the hall to the lobby. The crowd was thinning now, getting settled, and Wilson was twirling like an agitated top, pacing rapid circles in front of the main door. "Where the hell have you been?" he burst out as he finally saw his friend.

"Talking," House said. "They aren't going to start court without me anyway, so what's the fuss?" He headed for the main courtroom, and Wilson fell into line. Jensen put a hand on the oncologist's arm, a silent but firm message.

The courtroom was once again at capacity. House didn't look at the media or the crowd and just walked down to the front row. Wilson, Jensen, and Cuddy slipped in, and she gave a final squeeze to his hand, tracing the two rings on his finger, a silent affirmation. House took another few steps forward past the railing to the prosecutor's table, where Martin was just getting settled. At that moment, Stevenson stood up and walked over, stopping directly by House, although his soft words were addressed to the prosecutor. "Martin, if you want to have another private conversation right in front of me today, just let me know. I won't even object to a recess." With a friendly, fake smile, he nodded to his opponent and returned to the defense table.

House gritted his teeth, his eyes glittering, and Martin spoke very softly. "Don't let him get to you. He's desperate. It just shows how few actual facts they have on their side."

At that moment, the side door opened, and Patrick entered with his guard, followed by the bailiff. "All rise," the bailiff announced.

The courtroom came to its feet, and the judge entered. "Be seated. Court is now in session in the case of the People vs. Patrick Chandler."

House took another deep breath and looked down at the double rings on his finger. He walked forward and reentered the stand, and the long day in court began.