Kermit tried not to pace as he stood, seemingly studying the fenced tree in the park. THEIR park. Funny how all of the major events of his life drew him back to this same park time after time. Even in front of that same bench....More than anything, he wished that he'd accepted Savannah's offer to be with him now. Over the past year that they have been together, he was beginning to take her comforting presence for granted. So much so, that when a situation called for him to be alone, he felt vulnerable - like a part of him was missing.

He raised a hand to brush his forehead; he was actually sweating! *Stop it, Griffin,* he chided himself. *Pull yourself together. This is just another mission....Yeah, right.* He gave it up. Throwing himself so completely into fatherhood with Kat, he knew he wouldn't be able to convince himself that this wouldn't cost him anything. Over the years, he'd often wondered what kind of a father he'd make. Now that he knew, it made him wish he could just turn back the hands of time and adopt the kid himself when he had the chance-

He heard someone clear his throat behind him. *Here we go,* he thought as he turned around.

Major Jim Hellstrom stood there. Cocky yet serious. Intensity hidden beneath a cool exterior.

*He remind you of someone you know, Griffin?* Kermit asked himself as he stood there, waiting for the storm.

Jim furrowed his brow in mixed shock and confusion. "You...?" he whispered.

*Oh, shit,* Kermit thought. *Vanessa didn't tell him my NAME? This could get ugly....* Especially now that Jim knew that Kermit withheld the truth from him two years ago. Hadn't told him on purpose. Avoided him on purpose. *Yep - this could get very ugly...." He stepped forward and extended his hand. *Thy will be done.*

Jim studied him up and down. Kermit knew externally he hadn't changed much. A few more gray hairs was about it. "Well...." he said, the beginnings of a grin forming as he extended his hand in return, "I have to say this IS a surprise...."

Kermit saw it coming but knew he couldn't dodge in time. Didn't really want to, anyway. The roundhouse punch nearly took off his head, though, and he was glad the tree was there to keep him from falling. *Damn,* Kermit thought, touching his jaw, *the kid's good.* But then, he knew that when he was rough-housing with Peter in the prison camp.

"You shit," Jim said, not raising his voice an iota but the tone was there. "You dirty son-of-a...why didn't you TELL me?"

"Why should I?" he countered and saw Jim's eyes narrow. "Hey," he said, "can we take this to a bench or do you just want to mix it up? I give you one freebie - after that, all bets are off."

"You are an arrogant S.O.B.!"

"Remind you of anyone you know?"

That got a smile. "Okay," Jim said, holding his hand out again.

"That's okay, I can manage." Kermit leveled himself off of the support of the tree and sat on the nearby bench where Jim joined him. "Well, now what?" he asked. "You wanted this meeting."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"At the prison camp? I think that's fairly obvious," Kermit said. "We had more important things to do, like getting out."

"And after?"

Kermit sighed. "What do you want, Jim? You want me to donate a kidney or something? You don't need this; you have two perfectly good parents already. Ben and Sylvia Hellstrom. Remember them? Ben is a chain coffee drinker and plays golf and Sylvia is a whiz at bridge and baking apple cobbler."

Jim's mouth fell open in astonishment. "How did...how did you know???"

"I've kept tabs on you."

"For how long?"

"Long enough." At Jim's glare, Kermit elucidated. "All right. Since I found out about you. I believe you were two and a half years old."

"Vanessa didn't tell you, then."

Kermit shook his head. "We'd parted probably when she was six weeks' pregnant. Did you talk to her about that?"

"Yes, we had a long talk." Jim, although he was loathe to admit it, found it difficult to talk to those dark glasses. He was sure that that was the intention. "She said neither you nor her would've made very good parents. She said she occasionally regretted it but still felt it was the best thing for me to be adopted."

"She's always had a way with words."

"I hope so - she IS a linguist." He frowned. "So you agree with her?"

Kermit laughed out loud. "I never thought we would on anything, but, yeah, I do. I wouldn't have made a good parent - then. And it's too late now. You've got a dad. Although...I must admit I have a few regrets, too. Now, what's this idiotic notion you've got about joining the business?"

Jim, set on the defensive, was astounded at his gall. *First, he says he doesn't want to play dad then he's telling me what to do!*

"Just don't do it, kid," Kermit continued. "They'll eat you alive." Kermit instantly saw that this was the WRONG thing to say as Jim set his jaw stubbornly.

"You've seemed to come out of it okay."

"Appearances are deceiving," Kermit told him. "The business screwed me up six ways from Sunday. I still have to live with the crap I went though. It still manages to poison my life every once in a while. I'll never get rid of it. I wouldn't wish that kind of life on my worst enemy, much less someone I care about. Think of Ben and Sylvia. What would they think? Or don't you care what they think? If this is some kind of payback to get at them for not telling you-"

Jim had to admit Kermit was good with the barbs as well. He cut him off. "Well, what the hell did your parents think?"

"My father died when I was a teenager. My mother died while I was in Vietnam. I fell into the life soon afterwards. Thinking all I ever had to think about was ME! I never considered that there might be a day when it wasn't just me anymore. The shadow of that life follows my family now." Kermit paused. Waiting for Jim's next thrust.

It didn't come. "So, my grandparents are dead, huh?"

Kermit hadn't thought of his parents as Jim's grandparents. *Hell of a way to explain the family tree, Griffin.* "Yes, but I have a sister, Marilyn, and she has a couple of kids."

"Is that all the family you have? I have?"

Jim's interest was shifting away from talk of the pros and cons of the business. Kermit had to make a split-second decision. Welcome this boy or push him away. If he'd learned anything over the past year, it was that shoving people away didn't work. Didn't protect them from pain. Didn't protect him, either. Didn't Jim have a right to know his flesh and blood? "No...uh...you have a sister. Katherine."

"Dump her, too?" It was a forced sharpness. Jim was beginning to bend and was trying to stop it before he got too entangled. Before he started to forgive.

"Guess you thought I deserved that, huh? Well, no, I didn't *dump* her. In fact, I just left her playing in the backyard a few minutes ago. She has her first birthday this week. Here's her picture." Kermit pulled out his favorite. Savannah and Kat playing in the wildflower garden at the park. They had been giggling and putting flowers in each other's hair. They were looking at each other and they both looked over at him. The camera caught the two full of smiles and sparkle.

Jim took the picture and couldn't resist a smile. His little sister. *She looks like a real fireball.* He'd always wanted a sister or brother growing up. "So, now, suddenly you think you're father material?"

"With her help, yes."

"This your wife?"

"Yes. Savannah."

Jim gave a sarcastic grunt. "Doesn't look much older than I am. Some hot trophy for your middle age, huh, *Daddy*?"

Kermit had had enough. Snatching the photo back, he snarled, "Listen, you little shit, I don't care what you think of me, but you keep your mouth shut about my wife."

Jim drew back. He intended to get a reaction but not this way.

Standing up and tucking his prized possession into his pocket, he made an offering. "You're welcome to come by and meet Kat. Savannah asked me to invite you to the house whenever you're ready. Just remember, it's HER home and you'll behave like that officer and gentleman you Air Force types are supposed to be. Get it?"

"Some warm invitation."

"Take it or leave it. This is as good as it gets." Kermit turned and left his son to sort things out on that same bench that turned the world for his father.

*****

SLAM!

Savannah winced as the back door slammed on its hinges and Kermit strode in - interrupting another March family conference. Donald and Betsy March was staring at him like they had just witnessed a murder. Savannah glared warningly at her parents and they remained silent. Kermit took one look at the gathering, muttered "Excuse me," and strode into the study, closing the door behind him.

"I swear," Donald began.

"Excuse me," Savannah said quickly, rising and heading toward the study.

Opening the door, she went in and saw Kermit studying the landscape portrait hanging on the wall. Although she doubted that he was really seeing the painting. His back muscles were tensed and it looked like he wanted to hit something.

She went to him and wrapped her arms around him. He sighed a bit but didn't much relax.

"Things didn't go well, I take it," she said.

Kermit blew air through his lips. "Not really." He turned around and kissed her on the forehead. "Thanks, Scarlett," he said lightly, "but you'd better get back to your folks. I'll tell you about it later." Savannah gave him a worried frown, causing him to smile slightly. He kissed her on the lips once, very softly. "Go on. I'm okay."

"Liar." She kissed him back and left the study, leaving Kermit alone with his thoughts.

*****

"Jim?"

A voice startled Jim out of his reverie. He'd been expecting someone to call out 'ham and tomato on rye' or '37', not his own name. He looked around for the person that called him and found someone else that looked familiar from two years ago.

A lanky, young man came up to him with a grin. "Major Jim Hellstrom, right? Peter Caine. How're you doing?"

Jim stared up at him. Was he in on it? He remembered that Peter Caine had introduced himself before as Kermit's friend.

"Cat got your tongue?" Peter asked.

*He doesn't know,* Jim realized. "Have a seat, Peter."

"What's the matter with you?" Peter asked, straddling a chair. "You look like you've just lost your best friend." Seeing Jim's resulting expression, Peter lost his grin. "Want to talk about it?"

"37!"

Jim got up to get his lunch from the deli counter, went back to the table, sat down and plopped the sandwich down like he didn't know what to do with it.

"Talk to me," Peter said, all seriousness now. He could see that his friend was in deep emotional problems. "If you want, I can always get my dad. He's pretty good at getting information out of people. He's pretty good at solving problems. You know, I think that-"

"I met my father today."

That brought Peter to a halt. "You've never met him before?" he asked.

Jim took a large gulp of his beer. "I was adopted. Always wondered what my 'real' parents were like. Now, I'm sorry I know."

"What - are they mass murderers or something?"

"No...well, maybe," laughed Jim wryly. He had no doubt that both Kermit and Vanessa had killed plenty in their day. Possibly they still did. "They said all the right things I didn't want to hear. They wouldn't have made good parents at the time. They wished me well. They knew I was better off with my adopted parents....That kind of claptrap."

"Sounds like they care about what happened to you."

"Well...that's debatable. Get this: biological dad's new wife invited me over to meet the family. He didn't seem to care whichever way it went."

Fathers and sons. A tug of war Peter Caine was personally familiar with. "Look, Jim. These things can be...uh...kinda tough at times. Maybe if you give it a chance, a second meeting might go better. Why not accept their invitation?"

The major rubbed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He had a splitting headache a la Kermit Griffin.

Peter stared at the gesture. For a split second, that face took on a familiarity...then it was gone. He couldn't help but feel for the guy. When he'd been reunited with his father, the father he'd loved so deeply, it had been difficult. Still was. But they'd had a history together that couldn't be denied. A common ground that glued them together past all the years of separation. Jim had no common ground with this father.

Exhaling loudly, Jim answered, "Might as well meet 'step-mommy dearest'." He gave a rather unwholesome grin and a wink. "Looks like my old man likes 'em young. Married some blonde who's about my age." He got up quickly to leave before Peter could comment. "See ya, Caine. I'll look you up before I leave town. Grab some beers or something."

Peter watched him leave. Watched his posture. The way he walked so relaxed except across his shoulders. Like he could swing out and knock you through the wall at any time. Things began to slide into place. Blonde wife. About his age....*Oh, shit!*

*****

Kermit was beginning to feel a bit more relaxed. Or as relaxed as he ever felt. Dinner had gone well. Savannah had instituted the 'safety in numbers' rule for their first evening meal together with her parents by inviting ALL of their friends to help her welcome her parents. She was still tense but at least there had been no more explosions since their first encounter.

Betsy had insisted on holding Kat in her lap through dinner. Kermit could see the bond quickly forming between the two. *One more hurdle crossed,* he smiled to himself. Maybe if the grandparents became entangled with their grandchild, things could be forgotten and forgiven with their daughter. He really didn't care if they liked him at all. Now or ever. But he wanted to give his wife back that family she'd given up to be with him. She shouldn't have to choose.

Betsy had been chatting with Mary Margaret, telling the detective how much she'd wished she could have seen the wedding. Mary Margaret described it in almost embarrassing detail while attempting to build up Savannah's image in her mother's eyes. Telling Mrs. March that she and Savannah had met at church when she'd first moved to Sloanville. Telling her about what a sweet couple Kermit and Savannah were and how she and Jody had pushed them together. Her next comment, though, was a mistake. She knew it as soon as she said it, but by that time, it was too late. "They always had so much to talk about. Mercenaries make for very interesting conversation."

"Mercenaries." Betsy knew only sketchy details about her son-in-law. She had avoided finding out anything at all but Billy was relentless during their flight. Babbled on about what an interesting guy this must be. He'd been in Vietnam. He'd been a mercenary. Worked as a spy. Turning to Kermit, she began her investigation. "Well, just exactly what DOES a mercenary do?"

She didn't know what to call her daughter's husband. Mr. Griffin seemed too formal. Kermit was more familiar than she wanted to be so she avoided a selection.

Kermit looked at his wife. Her teeth was clenched and she had the appearance of a nervous cat. Given the wrong response, she could possibly attach herself to the ceiling by her nails. She was holding her breath.

Being a practical man, Kermit decided quickly that, if he was ever to be welcome at his dinner table or in his bedroom, he should rethink his pat response of "I kill people." Pausing for half a second, he responded with, "Different projects. Usually confidental or classified."

Breathing resumed. Peter Caine discreetly retreated to the living room where Billy was sitting on the sofa to dissolve into laughter. Kermit excused himself to join him, thankfully avoiding the questions still in his mother-in-law's eyes.

Betsy understood when she'd been stonewalled. She'd been doing it for years. It the truth of this man's past was unpleasant enough that he had to flip little rehearsed replies to her questions, Betsy was certain that she could live without the truth. For the moment. Turning a bright face to her daughter, she offered, "Savannah. You'll never guess who I ran into at the club before we left town. Bo Carlisle. Asked about you, dear. You can just *imagine* how he's getting along in life now."

Savannah turned her head to Mary Margaret and muttered, "Fat and bald if there's a God."

"What was that, dear?"

"Oh, nothing," she covered. "How is good ole Bo?"

"Well...." Betsy began to rattle on about Bo's perfectly 'precious' wife and two children. Their wedding. Mrs. Carlisle was Betsy's recruit into the Junior League and Bo was a glittering attorney in the Memphis legal circles of divorces and big money deals.

Kermit, watching and listening from the other room, couldn't help but notice Savannah's cheeks turning red. *Must be an old boyfriend,* he surmised.

Billy took it upon himself to bring Kermit up to speed on Savannah's sordid past. "Wondered when he was going to come up. He's the little blue blood Mama always had picked out for Van. She, of course, was less than cooperative."

Back at the table, Mary Margaret was bursting with curiosity. If this was causing her dear Southern friend to blush, it must be a good story. "Mrs. March, would this be an old boyfriend?"

"Weeeelll...he could have been if Savannah hadn't broken his heart."

"Mama! Stop." Savannah was seriously contemplating kicking her under the table.

"Mary Margaret, Bo was Savannah's date to her debutante ball and...."

"DEBUTANTE ball! YOU!!!" Mary Margaret started to giggle.

Rolling her eyes and glancing at Kermit for a nonexistent rescue, she tried to decrease her humiliation. "Yes, Giggles. I was a debutante. Annual Memphis Spring Coutillion. When Southern fathers present the flower of Southern womanhood to society. A BIG production which I HATED!"

Billy continued his narration to his brother-in-law. "She ain't lying about that one! Mama had to nearly cram her into her dress, hogtie her and drag her there. Van's never been much for bein' paraded around like a trophy."

Kermit grinned at the thought of her being dragged anywhere. "Must have taken one hell of a rope."

Betsy prattled on despite her daughter's discomfort. "Well, as I was saying, Savannah left the poor boy at a restaurant after the dance and went out carousing with her friends on Beall Street. It was weeks before I could show my face again after what she'd done." Kissing Kat's curly hair, she added, "I only hope that this little one won't shame me the same way. You wouldn't do that to your Granny, would you, precious?"

Savannah jolted from her chair and began clearing the table. Furious beyond words.

Billy filled in the gaps between attacks of laughter. "Yeah, she ditched him all right. Beauregard Carlisle. What an ass! Used to beat me up in elementary school. Van nearly pulled his ear off once to get him off me. Anyway, they get to this restaurant and she's trying to make polite conversation when he did it."

"Grabbed her leg under the table?"

"No. Better. She was talking to him and noticed that he was checkin' his hair in the silverware!"

Now, Kermit started laughing, knowing how that would piss her off.

"Yeah, she went to the ladies' room, climbed out the window in that big white dress, commandeered the limo and took off. I was only thirteen but she picked me up and we stayed out on Beall Street 'till 2:00 a.m. Mama dragged her to the Carlisles' by her hair and made her apologize. Van didn't see anything but her room and school for two months!"

Savannah, curious as to what was so amusing in the other room, sent a questioning look Kermit's way. In reply, he held up a spoon and ran his hand through his hair. She understood. Billy had filled him in. Holding her hands up to say 'Oh, well,' a happy expression returned to her face.

"I'm relieved to hear that I don't have any competition from Mr. Carlisle with your sister."

"Man," Billy said, leaning back, "from the things she tells me, you got nothin' to worry about. Van's put down her roots in your pocket."

Billy Ray was itching to download all of his sister's childhood secrets to his new brother-in-law. Even through most of her escapades did include pulling him out of some kind of trouble. He'd suggested that they join his father, who had retreated to the backyard. Maybe if he could make his father and Kermit share a laugh, the strain might begin to fade.

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