Kermit and Jewel stared at each other, the quiet snick of the door closing behind Caine loud in the awkward silence. Somehow, they had to get through the rest of this afternoon, the rest of this bizarre day. Preferably without causing each other more pain. Kermit made the first move, seeking familiar ground in which to bury himself.

"May I borrow your machine? I want to do some research while we wait." Kermit had already seated himself in front of the keyboard, making it clear that his question was only a mannerly formality. Whirling in the well-worn leather, he snapped his hands into action.

The blur of finger motion was stopped by Jewel's small hand. A twinge of guilt touched her voice as she eased down to sit beside him. "I already looked her up." Wriggling the mouse into place, the young woman steered her computer to the image of her would-be rival. "I should have shown you earlier. Sorry."

For a second, he hesitated and focused solely on her, never turning to the screen. The attention was unnerving. She absorbed the blank stare, unwilling to tear herself away. His mouth, Kermit's mouth, ran in a straight line offering that flat expressionless feature few could read. Searching each line, she struggled to decipher anger or mistrust. Finding neither, she cleared her throat. "There are two articles. One from the Memphis Junior League's membership annual and one from the AP." Jewel rose to leave, only to be stopped by a firm grip on her hand.

"Why did you look her up?" No inflection yet, still no anger. The warm, strong grip on her hand steadied her, in an odd kind of way, like a connection being forged.

Her voice was soft when she answered him, her eyes dark with emotion. "Because I knew you would. Because...I was afraid of what you might find. I didn't want you to have to see it alone if it was bad news. And because I wanted to see her." Jewel dropped her eyes at that admission, somewhat ashamed of that last wish. It felt wrong, somehow. Kermit's hand kept her from leaving to give him privacy now.

"Stay," he said in a measured tone. "It's all right. Really." Taking a deep breath, he turned and began to read.

Over his shoulder, Jewel read the items she had committed to memory an hour ago. As the first article blinked forth on the screen, she braced against the involuntary jealousy that flared inside her chest. An image of a beautiful woman with long flowing hair bled down across the monitor. Kneeling with her arms wrapped around two equally beautiful children, a grinning golden haired little boy and an adorable little girl with a shy smile and dimples, Savannah was the picture of a perfect mother and wife. All blonde and smiling, the three of them could have been some advertising executive's ideal. It was easy to dislike her in some primitive, high school fashion.

All those biting thoughts faded as Jewel watched Kermit's hand. In a careful, fragile gesture he ran one finger across the image in front of him. The love and longing melted the envy tightening its fist around her heart. The words mesmerized him and Jewel read along with him.

*****

Local Children Lead Hurricane Relief Effort
By: Sherry Lucas

AP Memphis, Tennessee

Sometimes it takes only one kind intention to get a good thing going. That point was proven by two children, six-year-old twins Jordan and Molly Carlisle, last week in the Memphis, Tennessee suburb of Germantown. These children were responsible for spear heading the delivery of an eighteen-wheeler load of food, bedding, clothing, and toys to Florida's victims of Hurricane Andrew.

"I have the two sweetest babies on the planet. They just wanted to help and boy did they!" proclaimed an enthusiastic Savannah March-Carlisle, mother of the twins. "The kids saw a news report about the terrible conditions and asked if we could pray for them. After that, they wanted to send some of their toys to the kids in Florida to make them happy."

But the kids were beset with a problem, how to get the toys to the children in Florida. "I thought me and Mol and Mama could just drive 'em down to Florida and take some supper, too! She knows the way 'cuz we went to Disney World last year," said young Jordan Carlisle. That was when sister Molly got into the act. On her own, according to the little girl's parents, Molly began calling her playmates to solicit their cast off toys for the effort. Jordan asked his mother to drive him to the local Piggly Wiggly grocery store and, according to his mother, used a "twenty-four carat smile" to persuade the manager to contribute to the effort.

As the word traveled, five neighborhoods and two local churches jumped on the bandwagon and by six o'clock the next day, the Carlisle driveway was brimming with donations of all varieties.

Luckily, the children's father was able to help with transportation. Beauregard Carlisle's law firm -- Carlisle, Banks, and Stevens -- came through to hire the transport company of Delton Trucking to collect the goods and deliver them to the needy families in southern Florida. "If God saw fit to bless me with kids who have that much heart, then I was going to do whatever it took to help them follow through," said Mr. Carlisle.

The donations arrived safely and were distributed by local relief workers. When asked why she wanted to help, a shy Molly Carlisle responded, "Because Mama says good folks get their hands dirty."

*****

Kermit remained silent. "Kermit?" Jewel ventured a peek around his shoulder to see his face. A smile painted his features, one tinted with loss and sadness. Quickly, he popped up the Junior League bio and read about the "former Savannah March", her marriage to Beauregard Carlisle and her life of volunteering and mothering.

"I can't believe she married that jerk," Kermit mumbled under his breath. "She hated that guy."

Jewel tactfully attempted to defuse the ever tightening shoulders, her hands drifting to massage the tense muscles, hitting the right spots out of long practice. "He looks all right to me," she said, leaning closer to take in the small family portrait under Savannah's smiling, pearl-dressed photo. The man was as picture perfect as his wife. Curly brown hair, blinding white teeth, upstanding and squeaky clean. The All American Family. Jewel unsuccessfully fought off instinctive prom queen loathing, and Kermit shrugged her ministering hands away as if she'd burned him.

"And how exactly would you know anything about them, Ms Adams?" The words were growled out in a low, angry tone. Kermit never moved his eyes from the screen and switched back to the photo of Savannah and her children. He didn't see the woman beside him flinch back, his anger stinging her like a whiplash. That bitter tone, her name spat out like an obscenity... still, she ventured another try.

"At least you know she's here, alive and well," Jewel said, offering some measure of comfort. "She looks happy and you know she has a good life here."

The mantle of burden pressed his shoulders downward. "Yes, but someone else doesn't." He looked up through dark green and she understood. "Here, there's no Kat. There never will be." A gesture of finality snapped the monitor into blackness and he left Jewel standing alone without words to comfort this familiar stranger.

As usual, a good offense replaced her lack of a defense. "No, there's no Kat here. But you aren't staying anyway, Kermit, so focus on getting back to her and stop wallowing in it. You'll just make it worse."

With savage joy, Kermit relished the challenge she'd thrown out. They were far too much alike, this strange woman and he. "This whole ritual is something you and Caine and some ancient scholar cooked up. There's no guarantee that any of it is going to work. And if it doesn't..."

She stopped him right there. "Failure isn't an option. Not this time. Kermit, my Kermit, is gone and if you think I'd let some stupid ivory statue keep him from me forever, then you are dead wrong!" Jewel had gone white, her eyes blazing blue flame as she glared at him. "You can sit down and feel sorry for yourself if you want, but I'm going to believe and I AM going to get him back, whether you're man enough for it or not!"

They were nose to nose, and Kermit's fist was clenched and trembling. She saw it, and seemed to realize just what she was doing. Her whole face changed, swift apology touching her eyes, and she fled into the kitchenette. Kermit touched the empty monitor screen, tracing a remembered photo, and pain stabbing his heart once more.

*****

When he heard the explosive "Pop!", Kermit reacted without thinking, charging into the kitchenette full blast, gun drawn. He found Jewel holding a smoking bottle of champagne.

"Kermit?" She didn't flinch at the sight of the familiar Desert Eagle, glancing from it to the bottle in her hand and back to his alert stance. "Oh, no. You heard?...and you thought?...and you came running in here after I was so horrible?" She started to laugh, leaning against the drain board, drops of champagne fizzing up to fall around her.

Kermit rescued the bottle, setting his gun atop the refrigerator next to the gold lead foil that had wrapped the vintage wine. He heard her choke out something about needing a drink between half hysterical giggles and, faced with the option of this or slapping her, deftly poured a foaming shot into the waiting flute.

Jewel took it with a shaking hand and slugged it back like medicine. Coughing, she held out her glass and Kermit obligingly refilled it. Another deep swallow, and she managed to stop laughing, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

Kermit read the label of the bottle he held and raised an eyebrow. "Awfully good vintage to drown your sorrows in." He said dryly, and Jewel shrugged, a little amused smile touching her lips.

"You're the...Kermit's the wine expert. I stick to what the liquor store stocks, but he puts in these special orders." She hopped up on the sink ledge and, leaning over, took down another flute. "Would you like a glass? It was this, or nothing. Well, Kermit's got a bottle of Chivas in the bar but I don't much care for it. He bought this for our...we had a date tonight, but that's off so I put it to good use. Go ahead, help yourself. It's not like it could make things worse."

With an courtly half bow, Kermit filled the delicate crystal and saluted his hostess with it, took a judicious sip, then another. The gentle warmth from the wine began to soothe his rough edges, pushing his pain back a step or two, and he shook his shaggy head, white lock falling over his forehead in a way that made Jewel ache to push it back. He raised the glass in a mock toast.

"Booze is the answer," he solemnly intoned and she nodded gravely, raising her own glass.

"What was the question?" she quipped, and they clinked glasses before he topped them off.

*****

"Supper's ready," Savannah said, pausing at the doorway of Kermit's office. "Sorry it took so long."

She had startled him and he hated that immensely. The time had passed unproductively. What he had thought could be accomplished eluded him at the moment. A few encoded files had caught his eye but he ignored the urge to crack them open. Maybe he felt more kinship with this ex-merc turned Ozzie Nelson than he cared to admit.

Kermit followed Savannah back to the table. "Where's the kid?"

As she directed him toward the head of the table, she said, "Watching a movie in her room. She does that then waits for one of us," she paused, taking a breath to correct her thought, "for me, I mean, to read her a story."

The table was straight out of House Beautiful. No quickly thrown together dinner for the queen of this house. There was china. There was crystal. Linen napkins folded in a neat triangle. The entire scene was meticulous to the point of obsessive. Both plates had already been served and his glass was filled with what he assumed was iced tea.

"I'm sorry it took so long," she repeated, seating herself. "Hope you like it."

"Smells delicious," he said, taking a seat that obviously belonged to the Kermit Griffin who lived here.

Savannah bowed her head briefly, whispering grace, then neatly opened her napkin and dropped it into her lap. "Hope you don't mind sweet tea. Kermit's finally gotten used to it. I could get you something else."

"This is fine," he said, taking a sip. The heavy sweetness wasn't something he cared for but he swallowed and smiled.

Dinner with Jewel was never this uptight. They would step around each other in her closet-sized kitchen or order take out, then eat on her sofa. Life was easy with her, easy on both of them. This required effort.

Taking a bite, he smiled his approval. "Wonderful. My compliments to the chef."

"Thank you." Savannah filled her fork, only to let the food linger on the plate.

Curiosity had always been a killer for him, but Kermit decided to take the risk. "From that accent, you must be from the South." "Gee, you must be a detective," she said, grinning briefly. "I'm from--"

"Let's see," he cut her off. "Not Western enough to be Texas. Too pronounced for Florida. Not genteel enough for Georgia."

"Oh, my, thanks for that."

"Not rough enough for Alabama or Mississippi," he said, inspecting her as she still refused to look at him.

"Well, sugar, you're narrowing it down, aren't you?" Her eyes lifted slowly then she gave him her full attention.

"Well educated, upper-class suburban upbringing. Very musical with a lot of rhythm," he supposed further, watching her watch him. Even in her discomfort, she searched his features for her own man. "Tennessee. Memphis or Nashville would be my guess."

Clapping her hands together, she congratulated him. "You're good. Memphis it is, or was."

He took another taste, trying to relax into the conversation. "Did he meet you there?"

"I came here," she said, leaning back into her chair. "I was working at the precinct as an accountant." At his raised eyebrow, she said, "Not a very exciting profession compared to ex-mercenary turned cop, huh?"

"Sometimes exciting is overrated." The food was good and she was opening up. He wanted to know about this man who could seduce a refined, conservative accountant to link up with a killer. "Love at first sight?"

"Well, it was something at first sight that quickly changed into love," she said, absently twisting her wedding ring. "We both met at the right time, when we were going through changes, needing something. We went through a lot to be together." Her voice trailed off and she seemed at a loss for what to say. Trying to busy her hands, she picked up her fork once again.

Savannah resumed pushing her food around in circles so he delved into some small talk. "This is a nice place you have. Did he buy this for you or did you do the shopping?"

"Actually, this was my place," she answered, taking a quick drink from her glass. "When we married, I wasn't well and Kermit didn't want to put me through the stress of moving. He wanted to sell his place anyway because--" She quickly cut off whatever explanation had nearly spilled out. "Anyway, once the baby came we just became entrenched here."

'Not well.' It was a nice way to describe her condition at their well-documented wedding. "Sounds complicated."

"Complicated and personal," she said, shutting down his planned inquiry. "Oh, I forgot the salt and pepper." Savannah leapt from her chair to retrieve the shakers and placed them beside Kermit's plate. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine," he said, ushering in another round of uncomfortable silence. The only sound for several moments was the occasional clink of a fork on china. She hadn't told him anything of value about this man whose food he was eating. Hadn't told him why he would put this woman and a baby at the mercy of any assorted vermin from his past. Didn't she understand that she was in danger? This woman would be an easy mark, innocent and frail. And the child? As a mother, she should grab that kid, change their names and disappear before anyone decided to use them for revenge.

Savannah took her turn at conversation next. "So, are you and Jewel serious?"

Serious. Yes, they were serious but not with the stranglehold these two seemed to have on each other. "Yes, we are."

"Oh, that's nice," she said, finally looking up from her plate and refocusing on him. Her inspection was almost invasive as she seemed to examine his every move. "Do you have any children?"

"No." Being on the receiving end of this questioning annoyed him. The judgements appeared to be running through her eyes as Savannah zeroed in on him.

"Have you ever been married?" She had turned toward him in her chair, leaning in as if to be certain she didn't miss a word.

"I have the right to remain silent."

"Of course, I'm sorry for being so nosy," she said, breaking off her interrogation. Whatever door had been opened by his questions had been slammed shut by his refusal to reciprocate. "You need more ice." Snatching his glass from the table, Savannah retreated to the kitchen and returned with a glass brimming with ice cubes. "There, that's better," she said, once again topping off his supply of the sickly sweet tea that he couldn't stand.

He decided to make the best of it and indulge in the sugar high that would soon follow if he continued to drink. Coffee was what he needed. If he could ride out this rigid dinner, there would probably be coffee. Having a Martha Stewart clone for a hostess might have its advantages.

As the moments dragged by, Kermit tried not to look at Savannah. Looking invited interaction and he now wanted as little as possible. Interaction would prompt him to ask why the hell a woman would select a man who listed killing as a skill on his resume as material for fathering her child. He damn sure didn't care to answer any of her questions and endure any of her observations.

Reaching for a basket of rolls, Savannah waved them in front of his plate. "Would you like another?"

"No thank you. One is enough for me."

Time dragged by, pressing down on them. Her hovering was beginning to get on his nerves. The burden of the situation, the tremendous effort required from each to tolerate the other, was exhausting. Savannah was absorbed in being the ultimate hostess, smothering him with care. He drank. She refilled his glass. He took a bite. She offered him more.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked, once again pouring iced tea into his glass.

"No, thank you," Kermit answered, taking in a deep breath. If she would stop distracting him, he could concentrate on getting through the next few hours without begin dragged into her emotions. Jewel knew when to give him space, solitude. He wanted her back. He wanted his life back and he wanted out of here more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life.

"You sure? You didn't eat very much. I could make something else."

"Look," he snapped, "you may have to wait on him but you don't have to serve me, okay." His annoyance sharpened the words, giving them hard edges to match his nerves.

"Serving is what happens in a restaurant, Mr. Griffin. This is my home," she struck back, shoving her chair away from the table. Picking up her own untouched plate and glass, Savannah stormed back into the kitchen. Her steps made heavier sounds than seemed possible by her slight frame.

Though she had insulted his manners, Kermit tried to muster enough effort to go through the motions. Carrying his plate to the sink, he offered an olive branch. Caine had said that she was still recovering from some illness. Whatever the circumstances, she may need something from him. "If there is something he does for you, I'd be glad to take care of it."

Savannah seemed to stiffen slightly. "I don't know what Caine told you, but I'm perfectly self sufficient now." She snatched the plate from his hands, scrapping the remains into the trash.

"Listen, I'm sorry about this afternoon. I apologize for hurting you." Forcing an ounce of charm into his voice, he said, "Rattling women in their living rooms isn't generally my style."

Her smile was quick, almost shy. She never looked up from the growing pile of suds in the sink. "Oh, it's okay. I've had worse. Forget it."

She'd had worse. Looking at this small woman, doing dishes in a mercenary's house, his thoughts turned dark. Life here wasn't as rosy and wonderful as it appeared. Turning her with his hand on her shoulder, he said, "You mean he hurts you?" He, himself, had hurt her. What would this other man be capable of?

"Of course not, you idiot!" Anger, plain caustic anger flared in her face. "I don't know what kind of man YOU are but my husband would never hurt me! He'd do anything to protect me!"

Her fury challenged him, igniting what remained of his civility and flaring it to ash. She wanted to fight, wanted to bait him. He bit. "Oh, I can see how he protects you from those pregnant wedding pictures."

The slap caught his travel weary reflexes by surprise. One small, flat palm connected with his cheek, stinging against his sarcasm and shining a harsh light on his remark. Catching the hand in his own did little to douse the inferno of indignation before him.

"How dare you judge him or me," she said, her voice a controlled burn. "If you weren't such a puffed-up, self-centered prick you might realize that your point of view doesn't mean jack around here." She didn't pull her hand from his grip, only starred at it until he released it on his own. "You don't know him or me and you certainly couldn't wrap your brain around what it took for him to let go and commit to a life with us." Before he could formulate some sort of meaningful barb in rebuttal, she added, "But what does he know? HE'S not the center of the universe like you are, Mr. Griffin."

Savannah left the room, fuming with every step, only to return with an armload of bedding. Without even a pretense of grace, she tossed the pile to the floor at Kermit's feet. Not an ounce of the perfect homemaker remained. Her face flushed bright red with anger. "Eat if you want or not. I don't care. If you want to sleep, take the couch or the floor. I don't care which. Take one step down that hall and you won't have to worry about bridging any dimensional gap." Taking a few strides, she paused to look back over her shoulder. "And by the way, I married the man I love, not a meal ticket." That said, she left him.

"Good night," he said to her back as she stormed down the hall.

*****

The first bottle was empty, and a second had been opened. Jewel sat on the floor, Kermit on the couch at her back, Shade purring next to him above her head. The excellent champagne was making her giddy and she finally was feeling a trace of hunger. Guiltily, she wondered about her guest, and turned, resting an elbow on the couch as she kneeled up beside his leg. "Kermit, did you and Caine get some lunch while you were out? You must be starving, huh?"

He took a swallow of the vintage wine and nodded. "We grabbed a bite, but I could eat. I didn't know what time you had dinner, but whatever you're making--"

Amused, and a little tipsy, she absentmindedly leaned across his lap for the cordless phone. He could feel her warm soft flesh pressing against him and froze, relaxing as she pulled back without seeming to notice anything unusual.

"I'm making take out. Five is a little early for me but food sounds good for the first time today. What do you think? Chinese? Pizza doesn't appeal for some reason, and there isn't a good sandwich place in Chinatown."

Kermit thought longingly of suppertime with his family, coming home to smell whatever Savannah had decided on, Kat in her high chair, hair brushed, fresh bib on. Their dining room set, table covered with Savannah's good linen tablecloth and her great aunt's china. Even after years of solitary dinners, it hadn't taken long to become accustomed to the evening ritual of coming home to a wife and a meal and welcome home. "Sure, Chinese. Whatever you think."

"I think you might want to show a little more enthusiasm" Jewel muttered to herself, dialing their favorite place from memory and automatically placing an order for her and Kermit's regular dishes. When she had hung up, she saw that Kermit Two was watching her.

"Problem? Did you want something else? I can call back." the offer was genuine, but Kermit shook his head. The fact that he actually liked all the food she had ordered wasn't the point, Savannah would have...but Savannah wasn't here. In this world, he'd chosen this odd seeming relationship with this odder seeming girl/woman. Which, he supposed, made his "twin" the oddest of all.

"What's he like, this Kermit of yours?" Kermit tried to make conversation, eager to learn anything about this divergent lifestyle 'he' had selected. "You said that you had religious differences when you met. He's religious?"

Jewel shrugged slightly. "He's...he's Kermit. He's an amazing person. Smart and funny, unbelievable on the computer. Good ethics, applied his own way. He's not religious in the least, he just assumed that being a pagan meant that I sacrificed babies to Satan or something. So we went a few rounds over that, and he decided to give me a chance, I guess."

"You guess?"

"He showed up here with a bottle of wine as a peace offering, and he talked to Caine. I really didn't ask for the details of his conversion or anything. I knew I could trust him."

"And that was it?"

"That was the beginning. We were friends for a long time before we got romantically involved." She paused in the dim firelight, lost in her memories. Turning the conversation back at him, she asked, "What about you? Are you religious?"

Kermit took a short drink and smiled as if at some private joke. "Depends on what you mean by religious. My wife is a Baptist and attends church with our daughter."

"You?"

"God and I have an understanding," he said, not bothering to elaborate. "You know what they say about no atheists in foxholes."

"Baptist, huh?" Jewel took a firm gulp from her glass. "Bet she'd have a coronary if she knew you were in the clutches of someone like me."

"You'd be surprised. In fact, you'd probably like each other."

"Uh huh."

Jewel had turned back to the fire, but she was closer to him now, having shifted herself when she reached for the phone. The little black cat lazily reached out a paw and tangled tiny claws in the sleek red plait that lay so temptingly in reach, then attacked with all four feet. Her victim jumped. "Shade!!" Jewel vainly tried to fend off the attack behind her head, but the fierce little beast clung stubbornly to her prey. Helplessly, Jewel laughed and Kermit leaned over.

"Hold still, I'll get her." He told Jewel, and she felt large warm hands sliding through her hair, gently disentangling each paw as Shade tried for him instead. With a smothered, but good natured, curse, he handed the detached beast to her victim's waiting hands, and ran a hand over Jewel's shredded braid. "I don't think that I can fix this." It was soft, her hair, the silky red strands sliding between his fingers.

Shade sprang away, then stalked out of the room to her food dish and Jewel reached back to assess the damage. Her hand hit Kermit's and they both jumped, then he pulled back and she shook her head. "I'll just redo it. I don't know what got into her, vicious little beast that she is."

Jewel slandered her pet in a soft, caressing voice that made her companion smile, it was the same voice Savannah used when Kat had been particularly clever in her mischief. He watched idly as she loosed her hair and began finger combing it, then stretched across the floor and snaked her purse from around the other side of the couch. "Do you always sit on the floor?" He asked, admiring her seemingly boneless grace as she sat up then pulled out a hair brush.

"If I've got stuff to sort, or Kermit's stretched out taking a nap. If I'm already there, I'll usually scrunch up so he can sit, or we sort of share the space, but he doesn't get much napping done when we do." There was a hint of teasing in the look she shot him, and he grinned back.

"Now that you mention it, Savannah and I don't get a lot of napping in either. I wonder why?" and he raised a seriocomic eyebrow at her. She shook her head, took another sip of her wine, and began brushing her long hair free from cat created tangles. Kermit drank his own glass and watched the rhythmic strokes, over and over, until her hair was a swatch of dark red satin draped over the thin jersey pullover. He admired it, but didn't speak until she began separating it to braid it once again.

"Why don't you leave it down?" He heard himself asking, wondering why it mattered. Except, "You've got gorgeous hair." It was true. It appealed to him, so different from his wife's equally stunning riot of golden waves and curls. It was restful. He liked to look at it.

Jewel saw the admiring look on his face, and blushed. His smile softened at the subtle flush on her cheeks, and the way she ducked her head before looking back at him.

"You think? Thanks," she said, embarrassed and pleased at the same time. The man had the sort of wife every man wanted, blonde and beautiful and curved in all the right places. It was odd to realize that he found something about his "twin's" woman attractive, and Jewel was surprised to realize that she wanted his admiration. Confused, she took another sip of champagne. That couldn't be right. "It gets in the way though, if I leave it down. I hardly ever do, unless we're going out, or when we're..." And she blushed again.

Kermit looked away as she braided her hair into a single braid, and left it over one shoulder, wanting to hide the erotic image that had flashed unbidden into his mind. His hands tangled in that mass of silky mane, glowing red against Celtic white skin, skimming unexplored curves, her eyes dark blue fire with her mouth under his. Kermit closed his eyes behind his shades and gulped at the icy wine. He was thankful when Jewel got up and went in search of her offended pet.

She didn't return until the doorbell rang. "Food!" The young woman was determinedly enthusiastic, beating him to the door with a childish leap and a bound. Kermit was automatically reaching for the strange wallet in his pocket when he saw that she already had a folded bill in her hand.

"Jewel," he protested, holding out the his billfold.

"Shush! You're my guest, and I have the cash." She hissed at him, then checked the peephole, and opened the door.

"Is Jim sick?" She asked the young non-Wong standing there.

"Jim? I don't know a Jim, but I've got flowers here for a Jewel Adams?" The young man in his tan FTD uniform offered her a clipboard, and then a long white box after she had signed automatically. Just as routinely, she handed him Jim's tip, and closed the door, satin-bowed box in hand. "It wasn't the food." Jewel explained, rather unnecessarily.

She laid the long box down on the little table, and gently tugged the crimson ribbon free, then lifted the lid. Her breath caught on a long low "Oooooo", delight coloring the small sound. "Oh, how beautiful!" Butter yellow roses filled her arms as she lifted them carefully from their cardboard carrier, the gold reflecting back off her face when she buried her nose in the luxurious fragrance. Entranced, she swayed a little, living entirely in the moment.

Kermit watched her, soft smile on his face, a tender look behind the dark green glasses. A debutante at her first dance, a bride at her wedding, a teenager with her first love, images ran through his mind as Jewel cradled her flowers. He felt a rush of satisfaction at the pleasure on her face. Her offbeat features, so different from Savannah's classic beauty, were radiant and she was, in that unguarded moment of pure happiness, breathtaking enough to hurt his heart.

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