A/N: Glad you're enjoying the different story angle here. This really is more a pure mystery than a story of any specific ship, although it's more Huddy than any other pairing. But the mystery and unmasking are the center of it. I think my muse came at this one a bit differently from Pranks, etc., because I've got mysteries on the brain at the moment; as mentioned, the novel I'm blocking out mentally is definitely a full-length mystery, with all requisite case (a murder), deduction, and action, and it is my main focus right now. But this little House story was fun. I'm glad you like it. This chapter is, needless to say, probably the pivot of it, then a few wrap-up chapters. Thanks for the reviews.

(H/C)

House lay perfectly still, listening to Lucas and mentally kicking himself. He still had not been seeing the larger picture, and if he had thought for a bit about motives, he could have guessed.

"He's totally passed out," Lucas said into his cell phone. His voice even now was as calm, pleasant, and amiable as ever. He gave House a poke, eliciting no response. "Yes, I'm sure. He's dead to the world. You can come on in now, Tritter."

House focused on his breathing, keeping it absolutely even. In and out. But when he expanded his criteria from those who knew about the test to people in general with a grudge against him, who would love to see him publicly disgraced and relapsed, who would have no trouble at all obtaining Vicodin, Tritter leaped to the head of the list. It had been Tritter managing the frame-up, with Lucas passing along information provided by Cuddy. The door to the apartment opened just then, and he heard the detective's footsteps, heavy and authoritarian, unmistakable even after these years. Tritter walked up to the couch, bent over to inspect House up close, and laughed. "Doesn't look like such a big shot now, does he?"

"Hardly." Lucas studied his comatose opponent. "I'll never see what Lisa saw in him. And by tomorrow, she ought to say the same. Which reminds me, I said I'd call Sam once we were sure it was a go tonight. She's waiting on pins and needles." House fought to keep his breath even, his eyes shut, his face slack. He could hear Lucas dialing. "Sam, we're in. He's plastered; he'll never know we were here, any more than he did the other night. No, we haven't given him the pills yet, but it won't be a problem. It sure wasn't the first time. Like giving candy to a baby; he was practically smacking his lips in his sleep by the third one." House cringed. Yes, he swore he would stop drinking after tonight. He had laid himself wide open for everything, including taking Vicodin again. He kept himself motionless, wanting them to keep talking as long as they were willing, helpfully incriminating themselves on camera. "Right, by tomorrow he'll be history, and all three of us get what we want. I'll call you again after we leave. Bye."

Tritter pulled out the bottle of Vicodin from his pocket and shook it, letting the pills rattle. "He had three the other night. I think I'll give him four tonight, keep ramping it up. Of course, he might have had some of his own in the meantime. I'm sure he's got a stash somewhere around here."

"More convenient to use confiscated drugs from narcotics, though. He's out, but we don't want to waste too much time hanging around," Lucas said. "Appreciate your help on the Vicodin, though. I could have gotten some, but that would be illegal."

Tritter laughed again. "We wouldn't want to break any laws, would we? Like I said, the only payment I want is the satisfaction of giving him the pills myself." He popped the bottle open. "Okay, House. Here comes your best friend."

"Pretty much his only friend now," Lucas pointed out. "Wilson has moved on, Lisa's moved on. That's about all he has left."

Tritter put one firm hand on House's shoulder, moving the pill toward his mouth. Simultaneously, House's mouth snapped shut and his eyes snapped open. He smoothly sat up, looking at the detective. "Not tonight, thanks."

Lucas was the one who looked rattled. He stared at House, then at the alcohol bottles, then back at House. Tritter, on the other hand, looked pleased. Much more fun to get the best of somebody when they are conscious and know it's you claiming victory. "Well, I guess you'll be joining us for the last act. But you know what, House? It doesn't make any difference." The hands reached out again.

House tried to get up, but he had been in one position for a while, and his damned leg seized up on him. Before he could move off the couch, Tritter had him firmly pinned. "Having some trouble with your leg?" the detective asked. "I've got just the thing for that."

"Tritter, maybe we should get the hell out of here," Lucas suggested.

The detective shook his head. "Why? He's already heard us, with or without Vicodin. Might as well go ahead and throw the test for tomorrow. Sure, he'll protest, but nobody is going to believe him, especially not with his very high Vicodin level. Hold still, House. Make it easy for yourself."

House was still struggling, totally pinned. Damned leg. "I'll have bruises," he pointed out.

"Drunks often do," Tritter replied. The first pill came up, and House locked his teeth together. Tritter's hands moved to his jaw, forcing it open, and the pill was shoved in just as House, in a convulsive effort, managed to push the detective back. He rolled off the couch, landing on his leg, taking a moment to spit out the pill even as his mind joined his leg in screaming for him to swallow it. Before he could get up off the floor, Tritter was on him again. House's head banged against a leg of the coffee table. Tritter's face was over him, the pupils dilated, the detective almost looking sexually aroused as he pushed the other man into the floor. Lucas stood slightly shocked but mesmerized, too, like watching a violent sporting event. Tritter's hand came up with another pill, and House opened his mouth this time and sank his teeth into the fleshy part of Tritter's hand. The detective yelped and pulled back in reflex, and House landed a satisfyingly solid punch, rocking Tritter back and gaining space to get at least to a sitting position.

"You can't win," Tritter emphasized, coming at him again.

House dodged the blow meant for his head, taking it in the ribs. "One thing you didn't count on in your master plan, Tritter," he panted out.

The detective actually stopped at that, looking puzzled, unable to resist exploring criticism of his victory. "What's that?'

House nodded toward the webcam across the room. "Smile," he said. "You're on Candid Camera." Tritter turned to stare at it, and House's punch landed full on the side of his head, knocking him over. By the time he recovered, shaking his head a little, House had made it painfully up to his feet. Lucas was still a spectator but now a horrified one, staring at the webcam. Behind him, the apartment door started to open.

Tritter started forward again. "Nice try," he said, "but you're bluffing. We'll switch it off and delete it on our way out, but nobody's on it live. You don't have anybody who would believe you enough to be watching it tonight."

"You're wrong." Tritter and Lucas both spun in shock, staring toward the door, and House took the opportunity to land an even better blow. Tritter went down with such a thud that the floor shuddered as he hit. "I called 911 from the car, House. Sorry for the delay; didn't expect things to get violent."

House limped a few steps to the couch and collapsed into it. "I didn't either. Think Tritter's down for the count, but keep an eye on him, would you?" He nodded toward Lucas, who was still standing in utter shock, mouth hanging open, looking almost drunk himself..

The latest arrival picked up a spare cane from next to the door, brandishing it threateningly. "Sure." He glanced at House, who was rubbing his thigh furiously, but did not ask if he was okay.

"And thank you," House said sincerely.

In the distance outside, the approaching sirens became audible. "You're welcome," Chase replied.