Donald March stood outside, leaning on Kat's swing set, puffing away on a large cigar. Uncomfortable and unsure of his next move. He'd wanted this swaggering man in the sunglasses to at least apologize for the havoc he'd wreaked in their lives. But that was about as likely as Elvis strolling into the backyard in the next ten seconds. What could she possibly see in him?

Kermit sat down on the picnic table. Enduring the elder March's scrutiny. He *hated* being sized up. Examined. "Those Cuban?"

Surprised at the sudden interest he'd rated, Donald pulled his trophy and answered, "Why, yes. Friend of mine in Memphis has a stash. Of course," he added with a slight smile, "I have *no idea* how he could have gotten them. Embargo and all."

"Don't worry. Smuggling's not really my area."

"Would you like one? My son here won't touch 'em." Donald pulled another from his pocket and passed it to his son-in-law.

Kermit fingered the cigar and let a crooked grin spread across his face as well. Lighting up, he muttered, "Your daughter sees this, I'm dead."

Billy sighed in relief. They actually exchanged words without a punch being thrown. Progress. "Yeah, brother. Why do you think *he's* out here?!"

"So, I see you to are trying to kill yourselves instead of each other now?" Savannah joined the male bonding session. Her mother was regaling Mary Margaret with more embarrassing tales of her childhood. She'd retreated to the backyard to allow her red face to fade. Walking up behind her father, she moved to slip her arm through his...then thought better of it.

"Tired of the hen party?" Donald was relieved to have her near. Took the pressure off him to keep searching for topics of conversation.

"Van. Is that guy, that Caine, coming by?" Billy had taken an interest in Peter Caine's father. Savannah's letter were full of tales, some unbelievable, that had peaked his interest.

"Not tonight but I have a class in a couple of days. If you're still here, you can go with me." Savannah had been Caine's student for the past few months and was excited at the possibility of sharing this with her younger brother.

"That fellow was a bit on the strange side, Savannah. Not exactly they type of people I care to spend time with my granddaughter." Donald was concerned. All of the people in his daughter's life were *odd.* But...this was nothing unusual.

"Considering that the man delivered your granddaughter, saved her life and Savannah's while doing it and has saved MY life in the past, you might want to rethink that position." Kermit tossed out the comment casually, restraining his annoyance with great effort and grace.

Donald immediately shifted the conversation toward his daughter. "What 'classes' are you taking from him? Don't tell me you're becoming a Buddhist or some other heathen religion!"

Rolling her eyes and releasing a long-suffering sigh, she replied, "No, Daddy. Still as Baptist as ever. Caine teaches kung fu. Martial arts."

Billy began to laugh hysterically. "YOU?! Little girl like you? This I gotta see!"

Kermit read the irritation spreading across her face. "Billy, size doesn't really play a great deal in success in this particular discipline." Actually, he wouldn't mind seeing a demonstration from the new student as well. Give her a chance to show off. He'd take a fall and let her show that know-it-all father and smart-aleck brother of hers a thing or two. As of yet, she'd kept her new skills to herself. "Come on, Scarlett. Show him."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Kermit got up from his seat and offered himself as her attacker.

"Okay. Try to grab me from behind." Savannah turned her back to him and relaxed. She'd only worked with Caine, so this would be a new experience. Not that Caine was an easy assailant to deal with....

Kermit stood silently behind her. He planned to help her out, if he could. The most likely move she would chose would be to grab his arm as it came over her shoulder and flip him. Easy to assist. Make her look great. "Ready?"

"Gee," she grinned at Billy, "such a polite bad guy." Over her shoulder, she tossed, "Come and get me."

Kermit threw his arms around her and got a surprise. She didn't grab his arm. Caine's instruction always emphasized turning weakness into strength. Being a small woman, that was her weakness...thus, her strength. Doubling over at her waist, Savannah made herself a smaller target. As Kermit's larger torso flew off balance, she ducked beneath his right arm and his body flew over her.

Kermit had expected to feel her body in his arms but held air instead. Her leg was extended directly in front of his foot, causing him to stumble and fight to remain upright. Savannah had already slid under his right arm. She was BEHIND him! In the middle of his teetering posture, he felt a small, but firm, hand in the middle of his back. Shoving him forward. There was nothing to grab but empty space as his head connected with the metal of Kat's swing set.

"KERMIT!!!" Savannah was aghast at the results of her demonstration. Flying to his side, she babbled her apologies and tried to tend the oozing gash splitting her husband's forehead. "Oh my God, Kermit. I'm so sorry....I didn't mean....Oh, I'm so sorry, honey."

Donald and Billy were stunned as Kermit began to laugh wryly, completely ignoring the blood. "Well," Kermit said, taking his wife's hand, "it's good to see that the lessons are paying off!"

Savannah still wasn't amused. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked worriedly, still fussing.

"Fine, fine," he assured her, squeezing her hand. Reaching up, he touched the gash and saw the blood. "Guess I should take care of this....Excuse me." He got up, nodded to Donald and went back into the house. Savannah stood there, unsure whether or not to follow Kermit.

Billy began to laugh, too. "Geez, Van!" he exclaimed. "You're a one-woman army!"

Donald frowned. No matter what he thought of Kermit, he didn't like the idea of Savannah in fights. "I'm not sure I like this," he began. "Young ladies don't brawl..."

"It's not brawling, Daddy," Savannah exclaimed with exasperation. "It's called 'defense.' Caine emphasizes that you should avoid trouble when you can but be prepared to handle it when it comes your way."

"Well, if you'd picked someone halfway NORMAL," Donald said with a snort, "you might not run into trouble! And what kind of trouble HAVE you run into, anyway?"

Savannah gulped. She was not about to tell him about half the things she had encountered, sharing the life of an ex-mercenary. She'd thought about telling them when she'd come home all those months ago. But she couldn't face the reflection of that nightmare in their eyes back then. She couldn't even deal with it herself. As time went by, her 'situation' overshadowed that event and she finally decided to keep it to herself. Why should she bare her soul for their sympathy? "Like Caine says," she dodged, "you handle it IF it comes your way. It's best to be prepared, after all. It makes me feel...I don't know...empowered." And it did. She felt a control over her life and body that she hadn't before. At least, she'd felt in control until this week. Now, she felt like a guilty teenager trying to smooth the way for a hoodlum boyfriend.

Donald shook his head. "I just don't know what you see in that guy," he complained. "He's twice your age and carrying around more war wounds than you can shake a stick at."

Savannah looked at her father, astounded at his perception, but then thought twice about it. After all, her father was well acquainted with war wounds. It only made sense he could see the same things in Kermit that was in his own soul.

"That's part of what I see in him, Daddy," she said softly. "He HAS been hurt but he goes on. No matter what. He...in that way, he's a little like you." A thought that hadn't occurred to her until that very moment. She wanted desperately for him to understand. The same things she loved in Kermit, she'd loved in her father for as long as she could remember. Strong, determined men with a gentle side shared only with a precious few. Father and daughter exchanged a quiet moment until Savannah let out a wicked grin. "You're the two most stubborn-est men I know!"

As she followed Kermit's path into the house, she tossed one final piece of information at him. "Oh, and for your information, he's NOT twice my age. He's only eighteen years older and *I* haven't been eighteen in quite some time."

Betsy March rushed outdoors, almost running over her daughter. Kermit had breezed past her in the kitchen. Blood smeared all over his forehead with only an "excuse me, ladies" for an explanation. Expecting to find the remains of a street brawl, she blurted out, "DONALD! What happened?!!! Did you fight him?!!"

Calmly enjoying the impending shock to her mother's system, Savannah sweetly answered, "No, Mama, I did. Excuse me."

Billy sidled up to his open-mouthed mother to explain. "Mama, you're really going to hate the awful trick she's learned now...." Her son proceeded to fill Mrs. March in on her daughter's newly acquired skills. Complete with hand motions and sound effects.

At the end of his oratory, Mrs. March, shocked and dismayed, turned on her heel and returned to the kitchen. She stormed in on the sight of Mary Margaret Skalany doubled over in laughter.

"YOU did THAT! Wait 'til I tell..."

"Mary Margaret! Please don't. I feel bad enough as it is. He'll have a FIT if anyone finds out about this." Savannah was ringing her hands and peering down the hall waiting for Kermit to reappear.

"Too late!" Mary Margaret already had the phone in hand. Only to have it snatched away by his hostess. "Some hostess," she complained, then backed away at her glare.

"Savannah Marie March!" Betsy shouted, causing all conversation to cease. "Have you completely forgotten how a lady should behave? Living here has completely divested you of all decorum and gentility."

Assembling the remaining pieces of her dignity after being verbally spanked in front of a witness, Savannah fired back. "First of all, it's Savannah March Griffin, in case you've forgotten. Second, there is absolutely NOTHING wrong with my behavior."

Undaunted, Betsy continued as Kermit made his way back into the room. "You'd think that you would at least not TRY to run the man off after it took so long to convince him to marry you."

For a moment, no one breathed. Mary Margaret prayed for HER beeper to sound as her friend's face flushed crimson.

Kermit could see his wife gathering her ammunition. *Lock and Load* was written all over her face. He weighed his options. Interfere or keep silent. What she was about to do couldn't easily be undone.

"Weeeellllll, Mama," she drawled, dripping with contempt, "aren't you the big one to talk when you-"

"SCARLETT!" He said it louder than he intended. All three women nearly jumped out of their respective skins. "Would you please help me find...the Band-Aids?"

"You already have one on your head." She turned back to her mother. "Like I was saying-"

In three steps, he was beside her. Drowning out her retort. "THEN help me find the aspirin." He was touching her arm with his chest. Arm around her waist, nudging her toward the hallway.

"I would think the least you could do is help the man after you ASSAULTED him." Betsy had no idea the trouble she continued to court. "I assure you, Mr...Kermit, that I never raised her to behave this way."

Without using much force - but more than he ever had with her before - the ex-mercenary effectively dragged his wife out of the room. Before she could set a blowtorch to this particular bridge.

Once inside the sanctuary of their bedroom, Kermit took a decidedly parental tone with his wife. A tone that she despised. "You don't want to do it that way."

"Don't start with me! I'm sick of being a punching bag with her! Especially now that-"

"Now that you know she had the same hurt that you did? The same fear? The same decisions?" Kermit stopped her cold with that one. Now that he had her attention, "Don't just blurt this new information or yours out to hurt them. Think it through."

Her temper was reigning back in and she was really seeing his expression. "Oh, great! So now you think I'm some hateful person, too."

Taking her tight shoulders between his hands, he softened. "No. I think you're the woman I love. I think you've had your feelings hurt and you're misunderstood by two people you love and it's making you do and say things that you really don't want to just to even the score." Pulling her into a warm embrace, he said, "Take a breath and don't make a move when you're angry. You can't think straight and you'll do something you can't take back."

Resting her head and releasing the anger, she answered, "In other words, pick my own battleground. Don't let them pick it for me."

"Strategically sound policy, my dear." He kissed her forehead and let her go. "And one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Promise not to hit me anymore, okay?"

"Depends on how you behave, Green Man. You know the kind of temper I have."

******

Peter Caine had the look of a man with a problem. He knew what he knew. In fact, he felt like an idiot for not noticing before. Jim Hellstrom looked like a Kermit Griffin clone. Looks *and* attitude. One mention of the blonde 'stepmommy, dearest' had confirmed it. Try as he might, Peter couldn't stop staring at the ex-mercenary, even through his office door. He knew Kermit was good with the secrets but this....

He found his eyes glued to Kermit as he left his office to get coffee. Suddenly, his friend whirled toward him and leaned menacingly over the younger man.

"Caine, do you understand that I have the majority of the free world examining my entire life under a microscope this week?" Kermit snapped, glaring. "Further contributions are not necessary." Peter remained silent. "A simple nod will suffice...good."

Peter Caine knew when to stay out of the man's way. Trying to prevent serious damage to his credit rating and/or person, Peter tried to lighten the mood. "Sorry. All this family showing up must be rough. God save me from the in-laws when my time comes. Explaining my family should be interesting one da-"

"Well, dear boy, I'm sure that I could provide any explanations you'd care to hear concerning our grouchy old mercenary's...relations," Vanessa purred over Kermit's shoulder, draping her arm over her ex-husband and smiling at the young detective. Peter Caine gifted her with a warm grin in return.

Standing erect and shrugging his ex-wife off of him, Kermit snapped, "I'm not your coat rack, Vanessa. What do you want now?"

After a token look of insult, she flashed gleaming white teeth at Peter. "A gentleman he is not. You can't know how difficult it was for someone like myself to...associate with someone like him." Extending her hand, she said, "I don't believe I've had the pleasure?"

"Bet you will," Kermit muttered, staring at her and counting the minutes.

Peter couldn't resist. Taking her hand, he replied, "Detective Peter Caine, Mrs. Griffin."

Kermit and Vanessa both visibly winced at the tag, although Vanessa was clearly enjoying Kermit's discomfort. "Oh, no! Haven't gone by that for years! Call me Vanessa, please."

*Hmmmm....* Peter's detective mind was spinning at blinding speed. Ex-wife. Son. *Damn...!* The family tree was sprouting up through the floor before him. No wonder Kermit was going nuts. "All right, Vanessa. Maybe I could take you to lunch while you're here."

"That would be lovely! Shall we say-"

Kermit, shaking his head, grabbed her arm and dragged her into his office. Slamming the door on the curious crowd. "Spill it and get out."

Vanessa noticed that bandage on his forehead. "Have a tussle with the in-laws already?" She moved to touch his wound and had her hand shoved away.

"The wife, actually."

Vanessa threw her head back and laughed. "I KNEW she was a wonderful woman! What did you do? Insult her dinner? Not wipe your feet?"

"I talked with Jim yesterday." He knew why she'd come and decided to cut through the crap. A bee-line to her exit. He hoped.

Time to abandon the small talk. Vanessa sat down on the corner of his desk and finally summoned enough bravery to ask about the visit. She'd looked for Jim yesterday. Expected him to visit. Or call. *God...I sound like a mother!* This time, she DID feel for Kermit. She could tell by his jaw that it hadn't gone well. Not surprising, given the gene pool they were wading through.

"How is he?" she asked, concerned. "What did he say to you?"

"He was arrogant and sarcastic and determined to do whatever the hell he wants...like you." Kermit was half-smiling with his barb. He could read her worry. He even shared it. Parenthood wasn't something you could feel in small portions. All or nothing. They were both in it now. Body and soul with a young man they hardly knew. Who hardly knew them. The odds were against Jim accepting their guidance. "I invited him to come over to meet Kat. We'll see what happens."

"You mean you didn't talk him out of-"

"Look, Vanessa, he doesn't give a shit about what we think! In fact, I think this whole bit is a big *screw you* to BOTH sets of parents." Kermit knew he was right.

Vanessa began to twist her necklace. A gesture of supreme nervousness for her. "I thought you were supposed to have this *father thing* under control, Griffin."

"Parent at will, Vanessa, if you're so much better at it." Kermit felt guilty the moment he saw the look on her face. Vanessa always brought out the worst in him but he hadn't intended to hurt her with that one.

The booming sound of a throat being cleared startled both of them to the door. There stood a decidedly-curious Donald and Betsy March.

"Thought we'd have a look at you on the job, young man." Donald spoke to Kermit but glared a laser through Vanessa and her close proximity to his son-in-law.

If Kermit Griffin had the control he desired over the environment at the moment, there would be a gaping hole opening up to swallow him through the floor. Or swallow all of *them*. Right now, he wasn't sure which.

Before he could begin to handle things, Betsy March strolled forward. "I'm Betsy March. And you are-?" She offered her hand graciously to Vanessa.

Receiving a less-than-delicate handshake from the petite woman, she replied, "Vanessa Bently. You must be Savannah's parents. Lovely girl. We lunched yesterday before she rushed off to meet the two of you."

Donald March continued to focus his suspicious gaze on his son-in-law. "The two of you must have *business*. You do seem to spend an inordinate amount of time together for a divorced couple."

Vanessa smiled and offered her hand, only to be ignored by the annoyed older man. "Well...we have an entanglement or two...."

"That's an understatement," a new voice stated. They turned to see Jim Hellstrom standing behind Donald March. Kermit glowered at the new arrival, now very much in the mood to just start shooting people. Jim, though, ignored all but Vanessa. "Mo...Vanessa? I believe I was to meet you here-?"

The momentary slip wasn't lost on Vanessa. Jim had almost said the word. Strangely, she felt great joy in that near-acknowledgement. And Jim, whether he knew it or not, was coming to her rescue. "Yes! Thank you....Excuse me." She eased past an unyielding Donald March, out into the squadroom. Leaving Kermit to the dogs.

*****

"KERMIT!" Frank Strenlich bellowed, barging into Kermit's office. He was the only man on the planet who could use THAT demeanor with THAT man. "You gonna entertain all damn day...?!" Noticing that a lady was present, he backtracked. "Sorry, ma'am. Frank Strenlich, Chief of Detectives."

Betsy gave him an embarrassed smile and nod. *I told Donald this was a bad idea.*

Quickly, Kermit introduced the pair, hoping to garner a touch of sympathy from the Chief. "Frank, these are Savannah's parents, Donald and Betsy March."

Frank was less than enthusiastic about meeting the Marches. After all, he had given Kermit's wife away at their wedding because these two had ignored the ceremony. Being a father himself, he didn't hold such cruelty in high regard. But he did hold the Griffins in high regard and, if Kermit was being polite, the least he could do was to do the same. "Nice to finally meet you. We think a lot of your daughter around here."

Shaking Donald's hand, Frank noticed the Marine insignia ring the man wore on his right hand. "Marine?"

"Yes. Korea. You?" Donald prided himself in being able to spot a fellow Marine at a hundred paces.

"'Nam." Frank could see the sick look spreading across his detective's face. *Twisting on the hook, huh, Griffin?* Reflecting on Molly's parents, he decided to help. "How would you like a tour of the facilities?"

"Well, we thought that maybe our son-in-law might-"

Tossing a file onto Kermit's already-overflowing desk, Frank quipped, "He has work. Why don't I introduce you to our captain and we'll go from there."

Kermit blew air out through his lips as Frank led them out of his office. *Thanks, Frank,* he thought gratefully. *Someone else to eradicate off the I.R.S. files....*

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