Kermit strolled down the bullpen, a stack of papers in his left hand and a pack of gummy bears in the other. He stopped by Peter's desk and delivered the papers.

"Here you are, kid. All done."

"Thanks Kermit," Peter said, surprised to find the senior detective still on duty. He glanced at his watch. "I thought you were going to pick your mother up at the bus station. Isn't today the big day?"

Kermit tossed a gummy bear into his mouth. "I still have an hour to go. The bus doesn't arrive until noon." He leaned against Peter's desk, back turned to the precinct's door, and offered him the bag of candy.

Peter shook his head. "No, thanks. I want to look good today."

The ex-merc peered at Peter over the rim of his glasses. "And I don't?" he growled in his most intimidating voice.

"Uh…I…I didn't mean it the way it sounded." Peter cringed under the threatening scowl and shuffled through a stack of papers to regroup his thoughts.

"Well?"

"You look good, Kermit. Trust me. I know how mothers think. She's going to be delighted when she sees you." Peter flashed his most charming smile. "I can't wait to meet your mother. I bet she'll tell me your real name."

The glasses slipped a fraction of an inch. Dark clouds gathered over the chocolate brown eyes that now looked like black coals. "Try it, and you will suffer a long, painful death," Kermit vowed. "I'll start by ripping your fingernails out, one at a time. Then I'll really hurt you. I'll..."

"Okay, okay, okay, Kermit. I get it. Please stop." Peter raised both hands in defeat, feeling a cold shudder creeping up his spine. "I won't ask your mother that question."

"Or any question." Kermit warned. He grinned wickedly as he adjusted his glasses. "That's a good boy. I'm glad we both understand one another."

Peter sighed in relief, very glad that he wasn't subjected to that fiery stare anymore. Until now, he had never been on the receiving end of Kermit's fury, but threatening to expose something from the ex-mercenary's past had fuelled that flame. Griffin guarded his secrets like a rabid pit bull and gossip added to his reputation. Rumors existed that Kermit was able to turn an adversary's brain into mush with just one of his piercing glares.

Perhaps learning Kermit's first name wasn't worth risking his wrath. One thing was certain - Peter didn't want to see THAT glare again. He looked around, hoping to find something that would give him a distraction from Kermit's constant observation.

An elderly woman walked into the precinct. Peter blinked. She wore the ugliest dress in the most glaring green he had ever seen. It hurt his eyes. Rapidly, he shifted his gaze to her face. Biting down on his lip, he suppressed a chuckle and waved at her. There was no mistaking that Griffin nose.

"Kermit, either the bus arrived early, or your watch is slow," Peter said, looking back and forth between Kermit and the woman. "Whew, the fondness for green runs in the family. I should ask Kermit for his glasses, or I'll go blind," he added under his breath.

The elderly relative waved back and approached the detective's desk, smiling at him.

"Huh? Why?" Kermit reached into his bag and grabbed some more of the candy before he whirled round in a display of energy.

The bespectacled man came nose to nose with his mother. He turned white as a sheet, halting in mid-motion, gummy bears still in his hand. "Mother," he croaked.

Mama Griffin placed her hands on her hips. The smile faded and an angry scowl crossed her features. "Dobbin Edward Alfred Griffin!" she yelled. Her voice sounded like growling thunder in the suddenly silent bullpen. "How many times do I have to tell you that gummy bears are bad for your teeth?"

Laughter erupted from their colleagues. Peter jumped up and rushed out of the bullpen, unable to wait for Kermit's reaction. He ran to the men's room, laughing so hard that he had to wipe the tears from his eyes.

Mama Griffin's voice echoed throughout the building and another round of laughter followed.
Apparently, there really was justice in the world, because Kermit would never live this down. "Leave it to mothers and children to publicly embarrass you," Peter mumbled, still chuckling.

*If I play my cards right, Mrs. Griffin's arrival can prove beneficial to me. I wonder if she likes Italian?* he thought. There's no telling what secrets she might reveal if he asked politely. He knew from past experiences, mothers loved to talk about their children, no matter what the circumstances."

End

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