Battle had always excited him. Not that Kermit enjoyed the nearly nauseating rush of energy and adrenaline but the heightened sense of being alive could only be matched by one other thing. That other thing wasn't what he was interested in from the little Southern liar who thought she could best him. Parking the Corvair a discreet distance down the street, Kermit slipped easily into mercenary mode. Crouching behind manicured hedges and butchering many a well-tended flowerbed, he made his way unseen through the afternoon. The blue cottage-style home fairly slept in the three o'clock sun. It oozed happiness, sugary, sappy, suburban happiness, happiness that could suck out aggression, anger.

But not from him.

The lies were heaped one upon another inside his chest. Jewel had been effectively erased from the landscape. He would find her, find the ones responsible for mangling their lives and pass on the sentiment. The first place to start would be the contact bitch and her skinny little neck. She'd talk. In his years of battle and subversion Kermit wasn't fooled by size or sex. If someone had staged a ruse this elaborate to ensnare him they wouldn't send a Sunday school teacher as a handler.

That in mind, he scrambled behind a brilliantly blooming azalea to check his weapon. A few quick snaps and the Eagle was ready. Wrapping one hand around the window sill, Kermit pulled himself up to get his bearings before entering the home. Gritty mulch crunched under his feet as he steadied himself to look into the living room. She was there, sitting on the edge of the floral sofa in all her role-playing glory. The Home and Garden Channel was humming on the television and the anointed queen of the household was submerged in her role as homemaker. A tea cup sat on the oak coffee table in front of her and she would occasionally lift the cup with her left hand and sip. The fingers of her right hand were grasping a small red ball, squeezing and releasing in some gripping exercise. Kermit noted that she was right-handed. It was a minor detail but knowing which hand might go for a weapon was always valuable. She was making herself ready for battle. He'd done that same exercise for years to make his grip stronger. At least they were of the same mind. The anger he felt began to channel through his body. He was alive. He had waited long enough. Gun in hand, Kermit walked to the backdoor and let himself in with an unfamiliar key on his unfamiliar key chain. He entered and closed the door with a solid thud.

Savannah looked up from the sofa, face brightening into a wide smile. "Hi, sugar. I didn't expect you back so soon."

"I'm sure you didn't." He stood between the kitchen and the living room, casually holding his gun by his side. Her smile dimmed slightly as she focused on the weapon.

"What's wrong?" she asked, voice trembling as she sat her cup on the coffee table. The china rattled as it connected. "Why do you have your gun in your hand?" She looked around the room as if waiting for someone else to spring from a corner.

"Oh, this?" Kermit held up the gun, turning it back and forth for her inspection. "Just wanted you to have a good look." He eased it down on the kitchen table, giving it a slight pat. "I think I can get what I need from you without frightening the neighbors with an explosion." He stepped closer. The woman didn't move away. She bit her lip nervously then gave a shaky puff of laughter.

"Are we playing the interrogation game again?" she asked, taking a couple of steps toward him. "Don't forget, you did show me how to get out of the handcuffs."

"Game's over, lady," he growled, covering the ground between them and grabbing her by both shoulders. He felt the air rush out of her and the shock rush in as he gave her a few strong shakes. "You evidently made an error in the dosage."

"What are you talking about, Kermit?! This isn't funny! Let me go!" Her voice had elevated a couple of octaves. The color in her face drained from pink to pale in seconds. There was little substance to her resistance.

Kermit stayed alert to dangerous knees and feet. Quickly, he grated his hands down to her wrists and twisted them behind her back. With her body pressed against him tightly, he poured all of his venom into her ear. "You made an error in the dosage. Whatever drug you used didn't bend me into this neat setup."

"Kermit...please...something's wrong," she gasped as he lifted her arms higher. "It's me...your wife...stop."

"My wife," he said, mocking her. "Well, honey, you'd better start talking or we're in for some not so pleasant marriage counseling." Grasping both thin wrists in one hand, he tangled the other in her hair. Jerking her head back, he glared down into her face. She was crying now, shaking violently. Fear darted back and forth in the deep green eyes that were wide and wet. He wasn't buying it. "What have you done with Jewel?"

"Who?"

"Don't lie to me!" he yelled into her face, walking her backward across the room.

"Please Kermit. I don't know what you're talking about. Please, let me go and we can talk," Savannah begged, tears streaming down her face. She looked back and forth from his face to the door.

Kermit laughed and shoved her backward a few more steps. When her leg connected with the low coffee table, she stumbled. She fell and tried to scramble away from him toward the front door. Following her to the floor, he regained his grip on her, pinning her to the wall. "Looks like your backup isn't reliable, lady. It's just you and me and I'm giving you until the count of five to tell me what I want to know or I start dismantling this beautiful body of yours."

"K-kermit," she said, voice panting with panic, "p-please. I wouldn't hurt you. Something's wr-wrong." The stuttering surprised him, then impressed him. It was a nice piece of acting to try to gain his sympathy.

"One."

"What about our daughter? She's sleeping. You don't want to scare her." She was completely still now, almost as if she was afraid to cause a reaction with her movements.

"Two."

"Caine!" Her face was intent, searching his for some sign of weakness. "We'll call Caine. Kermit, you trust him. He'll help us." That reference stalled him. Why would she want to bring Caine into this? No. It was an attempt to throw him off.

"Three. Four. Five." He began to shake her violently. Savannah screamed as he rattled her back and forth. All his anger, all his disorientation needled down into his hands. She was going talk.

The Road Not Taken - part 8

"Stop this!" A grip of iron closed around his shoulders, ripping him away from his prey. He flew across the room, stumbling over the furniture and rolling onto the carpet. Caine knelt in front of Savannah, reaching for her where she had crawled behind a chair. Kermit regained his feet and stormed back to the woman. She had all the answers and he would have them.

"Caine, get out of my way!"

"You will NOT touch this woman again," Caine ordered, his voice hard-edged. Holding up his palm, it was clear that he wouldn't allow Kermit to get near her.

"Caine," Kermit said, calming his rage, "this woman drugged me, abducted me, and she's done something with Jewel."

"This woman has done nothing." Caine was gently stroking Savannah's face. Her breath came in short gasps and she was shaking so badly he had to hold her with his other hand to keep her from falling over completely. "Be calm. Try to breathe normally."

"C-Caine," she said, latching onto him like a lifeline, "help him. He doesn't know me, us. There's something wrong." Frightened eyes looked up at Kermit then back to Caine, pleading for his help.

"I will help him," Caine said, holding her hand. He turned to look at Kermit, still keeping his body solidly between them. "Kermit, Savannah is not your enemy. Something has happened to you and we must find out what it is."

"The only thing that has happened to me is this bitch has stolen my life and tricked you in the bargain." He spat out the words as his head began to spin with renewed anger. They had gotten to Caine, too. "Get out of my way and let me get some answers." Kermit moved toward Savannah again. Caine fastened one hand around his wrist, driving him to his knees. His body collapsed under a heavy heat, unable to move or resist.

Caine's words pressed through his temples, into his mind. "Savannah belongs here, Kermit. You do not. Something beyond reason has happened. You must trust me." His manner momentarily derailed Kermit's fury. Caine had never lied to him before. He stopped fighting and stayed a few feet away. Savannah was still sobbing and mumbling to Caine. The older man spoke Soothing words to her, rubbed her hands and tried to calm her shivering. Whatever fog of anger or drug had overtaken him began to dissipate. He watched Caine minister to the woman as she still sat on the floor. Her words to Caine were often broken by the same stuttering she had used before. She wasn't maintaining herself like a mercenary. There had been no attempt to fight back, no resistance at all. Something more was wrong here.

"How is she?" Kermit didn't move any closer. "She shouldn't be hurt. I just shook her up a little."

"She has not been well," Caine answered, helping Savannah to her feet and into a chair.

"I'm f-fine," she said, taking in a deep breath. Her eyes never left Kermit's face. The look was less fear and more worry. The emotion there reached through his confusion and doubt, softening his resolve. Seeing her through more reasonable eyes, Kermit began to wonder if she were the one who had been tricked or drugged.

"Sit for a while longer," Caine said as he turned his attention to Kermit. "Savannah has not tricked you. This morning, something changed. Through some accident of fate, you have come here from another...dimension. There is another man, another Kermit, who belongs here. You are not that man."

"That's crazy, Caine!" Kermit shouted. "I know who I am. I'm not the only one missing here. Jewel, Julia Adams. She isn't here either. I want some answers."

"Caine?" Savannah seemed to be in more control of her voice. "Kermit? Who is this woman you're talking about? I don't understand this?" She stood quickly and had to grab the chair for support.

Still angry, without a clear focus for it, Kermit glared at his erstwhile 'wife'. "'This woman', Jewel Adams, is the one person I need to find here. I don't know why the hell I woke up in your rose covered, sickly-sweet house, but the only thing I care about is that Jewel is missing. You can keep the rest of this freakish scenario of yours, but I want her back and no one, " here he turned his fierce black glass glare on Caine, "is going to stop me."

Caine approached him cautiously, Savannah still hanging back a step. The pain in his eyes when he talked about this other woman was harder for her to bear than his violence of a few moments before. "It is not my intention to stop you from finding what you seek, Kermit. However, you must not harm those who have done you no harm. In this place, your counterpart is married, a father." The Shaolin smiled as he saw the anger easing to confusion in the other man's stance "A good husband. A loving father. It is different, in your place?"

"You're damn right. There isn't any of this, for one thing." Kermit gestured at the picture perfect home around him. "I have my apartment, although I spend most of my time at the loft. Jewel's loft. She's gone, Caine, I drove to her building and it's an abandoned warehouse. I even went inside. When I called her brother in New York, he barked something about a sick joke and slammed the phone down." A cynical smile, one that held absolutely no mirth, touched his lips. "Now David and I do our share of hanging up on each other but he didn't know me. I'd swear to it."

"This is not your now, Kermit. Your relationships are different here, because you have lived another life. A life that has brought you great joy and comfort, as well as great pain."

The smile again. "Trust any of my lives for that, Caine. Damned if I know how I'd ever actually marry some poor woman and saddle her with my kid, subject her to my lifestyle. " He glanced over his shades at Savannah. "You must be something special, Sweetcakes." His tone was offhand, distracted.

Recovering, the beautiful blonde woman briefly narrowed her green eyes, then softened once again. There was a familiar warmth coming toward him that he didn't wanted to accept.

"We will have to work together, Kermit, to discover what brought you here. I felt the universe shift, I felt it within more than one of myselves, and I know that we will not have much time to put it right. There is an order that all living creatures must follow, and if we delay, the universe itself will find a way to correct things. This universe could attempt to expel or absorb you. This, I fear, would not be to your liking."

"Wait, Caine," Savannah gasped, struggling to untangle the unbelievable. Her eyes never left Kermit's face as the turmoil played out over her features. "You're saying that this, this man, isn't Kermit? Isn't my Kermit?" Her hand reached out, gently brushing the air toward the odd man in her home. "If my husband is there, where he's from, is he alive? Is he alright?" Her voice began to elevate toward panic and Caine focused his calming explanations in her directions. The priest returned to Savannah's side, easing her into the chair she'd fled.

"It is my belief that your husband is filling the space left behind when this man," Caine gestured toward Kermit, "was drawn into our circumstance. Both men are strong, even if their lives have taken different courses. Have faith that your Kermit has fared as well as this man. He will be trying to return to you as we try to retrieve him."

"So we are the same man only with different lives lived, right?" Kermit felt his mind vibrating with disbelief. He knew who he was, knew why he had made his life decisions. Why would his life be this suburban opposite?

"Yes," Caine answered, his hand resting on Savannah's shoulder. "Here, you are married to this woman. You are Katherine's father. "

"Cop? Am I still a cop or--"

"Yes, you are a cop," Caine said, he voice level and quiet. "Perhaps your life is mirrored here more closely than you thought. One choice, one missed connection in a life's path can make great impact." Silence lay thickly between them as Kermit tried to absorb the impossible. Caine believed what he was saying. Even the woman appeared to accept his theories. Now, Kermit had other concerns.

Convinced at last, he grasped Caine's arm and asked, "Where is she, Caine?" It was a voice the older man had heard only once, when Kermit had asked for help protecting his sister and her children. Single-minded, focused, and deeply afraid. "I've been to her place, I've called her phone number. Where is she?"

Caine sighed, regret and weariness touching his lined face. "Kermit..."

"Tell me, dammit! I have to see her, to know she's all right.." Kermit stopped and stared at the man he knew so well, at the sorrow in his eyes. "You know, don't you?"

"It is true. I knew a woman named Julia Adams. She lived here in Chinatown and we met several times. We spoke of herbs and healing. I regret that I did not know her better."

"Knew?" Kermit saw the truth Caine had tried to avoid on his face. "No, I don't believe it." He shook off Caine's comforting hand and stalked toward what appeared to be his counterpart's office. Yanking the chair away from the computer desk, he insinuated himself into the only familiar territory, the computer. The system was passworded and he turned to Savannah with a sharp demand for it. Opening her mouth quickly then closing it, she allowed an equally sharp answer to die on her lips. The anguish he couldn't hide decided her, and she leaned over his shoulder, typing in the passwords with delicate manicured fingertips. Her perfume swirled around him for a dizzying instant, then she pulled back, and he was free to search. His fingers flew over the keys, and in a moment, there it was.

The photo was posed, a college yearbook shot, he guessed. Jewel smiled sweetly at some unknown photographer, her long hair loose under a narrow white hair band. Dark dress, light pearls, blue eyes dark in the black and white picture. He thought, perhaps, he saw a hint of mischief in her eyes, but it was simply a nice, pretty picture. Still, it was Jewel. Something eased in his chest when he saw her image, until his eyes strayed to the bold print next to it. It was a newspaper he was scanning, front page. "Serenity Park Slayer Strikes Again!"

"The body of Julia Adams, 27, was found early this morning in an alley near the open air market in Chinatown. The circumstances and positioning of her body have led police to the conclusion that she was another victim of the so called Serenity Park Slayer. Ironically, Ms. Adams, a former FBI consultant, was working with the task force assigned to apprehend this killer. An inside source admitted that Ms. Adams may have been attempting to arrest her killer when she was abducted and murdered. Police Commissioner Kincaid would not answer questions as to whether the police are following leads developed by the slain civilian at this time."

"No." Kermit stared at the hateful words on the screen, willing them away. They remained, and Savannah came close enough to read them for herself. One hand flew to her throat.

"I remember this. We talked about her, how this private investigator had been called in, and that you had fought with her. How, when she was found, it only proved your point that civilians had no place in law enforcement..." The blonde woman stopped, seeing his stricken face.

His own words, repeated in her soft drawl, were daggers in his heart. "I said that? I failed her. She needed me and I wasn't there, and then I made the great pronouncement that it was HER fault?" A fist slammed into the solid oak of the computer desk before Kermit gathered himself in once more. His dark hair fell around his face, hiding it from his companions.

"You did not know, Kermit." Caine pointed out and the detective shook his head.

"I should have known. He should have known. Why wasn't he with her? Jewel and I solved that case, days before the next full moon. He shouldn't have been ready to kill yet."

"You weren't working with her, Kermit. She was partnered with Peter and Mary Margaret. I guess they didn't come up with the information in time." Savannah's voice was soft, mingled with a hurt Kermit didn't want to recognize. "You were trying to tie up your own cases because we were leaving for Paris in a couple of weeks. Remember?" The error in her words caught her. "No, of course you don't."

"Her notes were found when her home was searched after the murder," Caine added. "These notes led Peter and Mary Margaret to the killer. Julia was his last victim."

"We were brainstorming in her loft." Kermit said, remembering. Clinging to his memories, convincing himself that she wasn't really dead. "I'd gone over to apologize, try to get to know her. Even then, there was this spark, something irresistible about her. Like a ferocious kitten, all hissing and claws." The pain, and the love, on his face made Savannah avert her eyes with hurt. "I wanted to be with her, ask her things. We were talking about her religion and that triggered it. We arrested him the next morning. before he could kill again. Before..." He reached out, but couldn't bring himself to touch the monitor. That pale pretty girl wasn't his Jewel. She never would be, now.

******

When Caine returned, he and Kermit joined Jewel in skimming the rest of the books, but they found nothing about any ivory statues that might cause this kind of displacement. In desperation, and because he couldn't stand to watch Jewel pace back and forth from her computer any longer, Kermit suggested a trip to the precinct. He was probably due in for work, late even, and maybe he could figure something out from his counterpart's current cases. Caine agreed, and so did Jewel, though she did ask one, rather disturbing question.

"What if the transfer happens again, spontaneously, and this Kermit isn't here, I mean, what if it has to be here in this house where he appeared? She'd watched quite a bit of science fiction in her life, she wasn't a complete novice at this dimensional travel stuff.

Caine and Kermit exchanged glances, and Caine shook his head. "I do not know if this will happen. We will be gone only as long as necessary."

Kermit nodded slowly. It was his world, his life at risk, no matter what he did, and Kermit Griffin was a man of action. Jewel held Caine back at the door to ask him some other question, low voiced, and then Caine followed Kermit to the elevator, and out to the Corvair. This time Kermit knew exactly where he was, and how to get to his home away from home.

"You and Julia are no longer...at odds?" Caine asked as they rode.

"She can't stand to look at me, but other than that." Kermit shook his head. "We haven't killed each other yet."

"Ah," and Caine said no more about it, despite the curious look Kermit shot him over his sunglasses.

The 101st was just where he had left it, even his parking space was free.

"Pop!" Peter came barreling over as they entered the room and Kermit made good his retreat into his own office. Caine nodded at him as he went, closing and locking the door behind him. He looked around, noticing differences. A short couch instead of the two chairs he put together for naps during round the clock work. Walls were a different shade of institutional off white. His heart hurt when he saw Kat's childish scribbling gone from their secret place behind he door, and in disbelief, he searched for the double frame of sterling silver that housed his pictures of Savannah and the baby. It was nowhere to be found. There was a stuffed frog in a rakish pair of shades perched on his computer monitor, and a 5x7 wooden frame on the shelf above it. Almost unwillingly, he picked it up and studied the picture it held. Jewel, of course. He knew it was going to be her. She was sitting on a low seawall, the ocean behind her. Her hair was loose to her waist, and she wore a long, light dress, her bare legs and feet were covered in sand. The photographer had caught her turned slightly in profile, and her smile was tender, her eyes a bit wistful, the portrait of a woman very much in love. The woman that his "twin" loved. She looked older, serene, not the angry, nervous girl he'd left at the loft. Kermit replaced the picture carefully. Its rightful owner would find it safe when he returned.

Blocking the unfamiliarity, he concentrated on the normal sounds of the 101st alive around him. It was a comfortable background noise and Kermit actually relaxed a little as he began sorting the printouts stacked on "his" desk. He was still scanning the fan-folded sheets when Caine made his diffident entrance, shutting the door kindly but firmly in Peter's face. Kermit raised an eyebrow and Caine shrugged.

"He wishes to help."

"He doesn't know what we're dealing with."

"It does not matter to Peter. He wishes to help."

"It seems that Peter is Peter wherever he may be." And if the genuine faint smile didn't match the lightly sarcastic tone, Caine didn't see fit to comment on it. Kermit handed the Shaolin half of his paperwork. "A little late morning reading material?" he asked and Caine bowed slightly.

"I would be honored."

"You haven't seem them yet."

The two men sat in a companionable silence punctuated by the soft shuffling sounds of turning pages. An hour later, they were still looking and Kermit was simmering. Since waking up that morning, he had lost his wife and child, been saddled with an annoying redhead who insisted she was a witch, and now he was shuffling paperwork, all without a single cup of coffee. His growling stomach reminded him that meals, at least, were controllable. He ordered sandwiches and over lunch, they discussed a new plan of attack if the printouts failed to yield results.

The precinct ran in its smoothly chaotic way outside his office door, and Kermit felt himself beginning to relax again. If he just concentrated on his food and coffee and talking with Caine, if he didn't look up and see Jewel where Savannah should be, he could keep the panic buried deep, where he always kept it. Fear of something happening to Kat, of his old life attacking his new one, fear of losing his Savannah. Kermit Griffin never talked about fear, never shared it with anyone, simply kept it in a hidden part of his soul, guarded by fierce anger. Once, Kermit had genuinely not cared what happened to him. Savannah had brought spring into the long barren winter of his life, but with the rebirth of caring had come the fear of losing it. The shooting had confirmed how easily it could all be taken away and he had to live with the proof that his fears were real. It was, to him, a small price to pay, and he'd pay it alone.

When Peter knocked and stepped into the office, Caine and Kermit merely exchanged looks, "See?" and "I told you so" conveyed quickly and eloquently without a word. Peter missed it, his own face was busy with concern and curiosity.

"Look, guys, I know something is going on here. Now, I'm sure you have all kinds of reasons for not telling me about it but I want in." He looked at them both, hands out in supplication. "Hey, maybe I can help. I AM a detective, you know."

"My son, Kermit does not wish--" Caine began, only to be interrupted by Kermit, who wasn't turning down any gift horse at this point.

"Maybe you can help, kid. I need to ask you a few questions that may sound crazy, without you questioning me in return. Deal?"

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" Peter asked, struggling against the arms length distance being established.

"Yes," Kermit answered, honestly. Peter would know a lie and wouldn't let go until he knew the truth. "Yes, I'm in trouble and the only way you can help me is to answer my questions and not pressure me to tell you more. It's vital that you trust me on this one and do as I ask. Can you do that? Can you trust me enough to do that?" Kermit knew what his relationship was with Peter Caine on his own turf. There, Peter would fight this condition but he would trust Kermit's instincts. Here, there was no way to know if that connection existed.

Peter perched on the edge of the battered metal desk. "Shoot."

"What have I been working on the last few days?"

"What have you--?" Peter stared, then frowned in thought, "The Leslie homicide, the stabbings up in Eastbridge, recovering the Ambawgui collection, the computer piracy of school--"

Kermit held up a hand. "The Ambawgui collection?"

Peter shrugged, curiosity evident on his face, even in his posture. "Yeah. A bunch of little ivory statues or something, stolen from the museum last week. We finally tracked them down and rescued the last of them yesterday, and you brought them to evidence lock up for safekeeping."

Caine was nodding. "We must investigate this collection." He said to Kermit, then turned to Peter, bowed slightly. "You have done well, my son. Thank you."

Peter bowed back, nearly overbalancing as Kermit clapped him on the back with renewed vigor. "Hey, anytime." he said, then realized that he was talking to their retreating backs. "Glad to be of service. Always here to help."

Despite his eagerness to get to work, Kermit managed a smile and a few words of chat with the retirement age officer guarding the evidence lock-up. Fortunately, most officers were familiar with the 101st's anti-social computer whiz, and more familiar still with Detective Caine's Shaolin father. Kermit had very little trouble convincing Officer Sean O'Keefe to let them both into the evidence room. In fact, O'Keefe knew just where the last of the Ambawgui collection was stored and led them to it in the large, dusty maze of steel shelving. Caine helped Kermit take the box of sealed plastic envelopes down from the shelf and place them on a battered metal table. He held up a hand and motioned the detective to a seat.

"Perhaps the piece we seek will recognize you somehow, Kermit. I will hand them to you one at a time, and you will attempt to feel a connection to it. "

"Whatever, Caine. Let's get on with this."

Carefully, reverently, the older man removed each ivory sculpture from its plastic protection and placed it in Kermit's hands. This gave him a chance to touch each piece first, in case there were dangers they did not know about. A third of the way through, he gave Kermit a small ivory ball, carved with twin faces. Kermit took it, and dropped it onto the table He shook his hand and glared at the Shaolin.

"It's hot! Hot enough to burn my hand, dammit!" There was indeed a red mark rising on his palm. Caine took Kermit's hand in both of his and closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating. The detective stared, then felt a tingle pass through his hand. When Caine released him, the mark was gone. Impressed despite himself, Kermit nodded his thanks. Caine smiled back, a shy smile, then retrieved the globe. They quickly sorted through the rest of the sculpture, none of which caused any kind of reaction when either man held them. Kermit began bagging them back up while Caine wrapped the ivory globe in a piece of silk.

"Silk muffles magic in ritual items," he explained, "This way it will not draw unwelcome attention our way." The Shaolin carefully placed the silk wrapped bundle in his medicinal pouch, and helped Kermit heft the box back onto its metal shelf.

"All right, then. Let's go see what our techno-pagan and her friends can dig up on this thing." Kermit said, gesturing toward the door. Caine assured him in the car that, if necessary, he could find a way back into the evidence lock-up alone to replace the ball. Kermit was oddly pleased to hear it. He hated the idea of messing up another cop's case. In this instance, his.

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