BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!!

"Kermit....Kermit!!!" Savannah shook her sleeping husband as the alarm continued to blare. How in the world could he sleep with that racket? "Kermit!"

"Mmm?"

Savannah couldn't believe it. Kermit usually woke up at the drop of a pin but now, he just attempted to bury himself deeper in the pillow. Taking matters into her own hands, she hoisted herself up, leaned over his still body and turned off the alarm. "Kermit?" she asked, shaking him.

"Mwk...jsfwmmmmnn...."

"What???" She turned him over onto his back so she could understand him. "Wanna give that another go, sugar? In English this time?"

"Jus' a few more minutes...." Kermit yawned, turned over again and went back to sleep.

Savannah, giving a mental shrug, got out of bed as another 'alarm' began sounding - that of the form of their daughter. She stumbled slightly as she made her way to the nursery. It was going to be one of those days; she could tell already. To her surprise, the active toddler was not standing up, demanding in her baby voice for her breakfast and to begin the new day running around the house. Kat was lying on her bed, little hands rubbing at her eyes and wailing piteously.

"What's the matter, baby?" Savannah asked as she picked Kat up. "You've got the grouchies, too?" Kat sneezed in response. "Well, bless you!" Savannah looked at the toddler analytically and began to put two and two together. "No...oh, no, no...." Reluctantly, she put a hand on her daughter's forehead...and sighed. "Oh, poor sweetie....you're burning up!" Kat sneezed her agreement as Savannah carried the little girl into the bathroom to get the baby thermometer.

As she tended to Kat, she could hear Kermit finally getting up, turning the shower on and getting ready for work.

*****

Savannah was busily making breakfast when Kermit came in to kiss her goodbye for the day. "Good morning, sleepyhead," Savannah greeted, not looking up from the eggs. "Bad news - Kat has a fever. Poor little thing...I gave her some baby aspirin. I figured if her fever got worse, I'd take her to the pediatrician. How's that sound? Kermit?"

"Sounds fine. No breakfast for me, thanks - I'm not hungry."

Savannah turned. Was it her imagination or did Kermit look a little...off this morning? "Kermit...are you all right?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I...I...." He ended his sentence with a gigantic sneeze.

Savannah groaned. Of course....It was all making sense now. "Stay right there, buster," she said in a firm voice as she went to the bathroom once again. She came back, looking for telltale signs, putting a hand on his forehead. Sure enough, his forehead was hot. "I hate to tell you this, sugar, but...." She brandished the thermometer at him, which he dodged.

"I'm never sick," he informed her as he fought another sneeze and finally gave in.

"Uh huh," Savannah said, "and you've never been around a baby - or should I say a 'germ magnet' - full time before, either." She halted his getaway with a firm hand on his arm. "C'mon...if you don't do this here, I'll just chase you down at the office and ask Peter to hold you down for me and that would be embarrassing...."

"You wouldn't...!"

"Well, okay, maybe I wouldn't," she admitted. "I'd just get Karen to send you home."

Kermit knew that she WOULD do that and, sighing, took the thermometer to place it under his tongue.

Fifteen minutes later, Kermit was engaged in an activity that he'd never thought he'd do - arguing with his wife while she tried to undress him.

"Just a small nap, Kermit," Savannah wheedled. "You need rest!"

Kermit knew he was losing the battle as he lost his tie, jacket and shirt. "Okay, tell you what..." A sneeze interrupted him but he stubbornly continued. "I'll work here on my computer for the morning and maybe take a nap later...."

"How about the other way around?" his wife countered, divesting him of his shoes and socks. "You take a nap NOW and see how you feel after. Need I remind you? One hundred and one! Not Dalmations, degrees!" She made him stand up to remove his pants and settled him back onto the bed. "Please, Kermit...? For me?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

With a sigh, he knew that he had lost. Savannah tried not to gloat as she covered her stubborn husband with the bed sheets. He sneezed again. "I'll get some cold medicine," she promised, kissing him on the forehead.

Kermit yawned again and closed his eyes, trying not to give in to how awful he truly felt, as she walked out of the room.

*****

*Terrific...just terrific,* Savannah thought. *Both of them at the same time! What did I do to deserve this?!!* She made a quick call to Karen Simms, telling her that Kermit was sick. Karen, to her credit, tried not to snicker over the phone but she did say something about jotting the once-in-a-lifetime event down on her calendar.

The doorbell rang just as she was pouring the orange juice. "NOW what?" She went over to the door and pulled it open in exasperation to reveal Paul Blaisdell, who looked at her oddly.

"Did I come at a bad time?" he asked politely.

"Oh, no," she reassured. "Well, maybe...um....Come in!"

Paul smiled as he walked in. "I'm sorry for not giving any notice," he said, "but I thought I'd stop by to get to know you better. I see by the driveway that Kermit hasn't left for work yet....Are you okay?"

Savannah looked down at herself, for the first time realizing that she was still in her robe, hadn't showered yet, her hair was a mess, she wasn't wearing makeup....She blushed, wishing she could meet Paul Blaisdell when she looked good. The first time they met, she was in the hospital and now...."I'm sorry, Paul. I guess this isn't a good time....Kermit and Kat are both sick with some kind of cold and, well, I haven't had a chance to even dress yet...."

"Both of them sick?" Paul shook his head sympathetically. "Kermit's a bad enough patient as it is. Tell you what - why don't you take a few minutes to pull yourself together while I babysit."

Savannah giggled at the thought of Paul babysitting Kermit. "Well...."

"Please, I insist. You're starting to look frazzled."

Savannah darted forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," she said gratefully. "I'll only be a minute."

"Take as long as you like," he called as she darted into the bedroom for a change of clothes.

She then made her way to the other bathroom when she came back. "I forgot the pills and orange juice for Kermit," she explained.

Paul took the items from her hand. "I'll do that. Go!"

"Yes, Captain!" she said with a grin and obeyed.

Paul brought in the orange juice and pills in to Kermit's bedside. The computer expert really didn't look well. Especially if he couldn't hear Paul walk into the room. Evidently, he had heard something, because he turned over on his side in response. "Mmmmm," he mumbled, "thanks, sweetheart."

Paul grinned. "You're welcome, Darling."

Kermit opened an eye in shock and grinned in embarrassment. "Aw, shit."

"Don't worry," Paul assured him. "Your image was already shot with me."

"Don't even know if I ever HAD an image with you...."

"True enough....I hope, at least, that you've been a better patient with that lovely lady than you were with me."

"Well, she has more charm than you ever had. Certainly better-looking." Kermit sat up to take the cold medicine. "Yeah, those were the days, all right. Glad those days are gone."

"Me, too."

"What are you doing here?" Kermit asked, swallowing the medicine.

"Thought I'd take the opportunity to get to know Savannah," Paul answered. "How was I supposed to know you'd be too paranoid to let us alone for a day?"

"This-" Kermit gestured at his prone form in bed, "-wasn't MY idea!"

Paul watched as Kermit settled himself back under the covers. Despite his claims, the ex-mercenary seemed to enjoy the opportunity to take it easy for a change. Finally, Paul said, "I heard about Truong Qui."

A long pause. "Yeah," Kermit finally said. "Well, we don't have to worry about him anymore."

"That's good to know - saves ME the trouble." Paul smiled as Kermit looked askance at him. "Oh, yeah, I was just as pissed at him. But I'm glad you took care of the problem."

"Do Vien was taken out, too. Not by me," Kermit told him, "but not that I'm complaining, since he was our snitch." Kermit interrupted himself with a huge yawn. "Couple of close calls, there, though," he finished. "Peter really saved my ass on that one. And Simms. And Caine." He laughed wryly. "Sometimes it feels like I can't turn around anymore without them helping me out." He yawned again.

"Welcome to the wonderful world of friendship," Paul said, grinning. "Looks like the medicine's catching up with you."

"Yeah...guess so. Get the story from Savannah....Oh, and you can tell her anything you want, too. I've told her everything. Everything I can remember, that is...." He yawned again. "Granted, there are a few holes there...."

"You're sure about that? Some of it was pretty ugly."

"No uglier than what she's seen first-hand. Do me a favor, Paul?"

"Anything."

"If you can, while you're getting to know her, find out what the hell she sees in a war-torn old merc-computer geek like me, anyway....God knows I've never been able to figure it out...."

"Good night," Paul grinned again, watching Kermit's eyes close as the medicine did its work, and walked quietly out of the bedroom to check on Kat.

Baby Kat was stretched out on her back. He couldn't help but notice that she had fallen asleep in the exact same position as her father. One hand behind her head. One arm over her chest. Of course, there was a beat-up stuffed frog in her hand but the rest was a mirror. *Boy, Kermit. Are you in for it, kid.*

Paul returned to the living room to wait for his hostess. He'd been looking forward to this. Getting to know this woman. One on one. Months ago, he'd abandoned his doubts about Kermit's selection. Something that shocked him, though, was that Kermit had told all to her.

One thing Paul understood about Kermit Griffin was that he was *always* specific. If he said "everything," he meant everything. That is, everything he knew.

His train of thought was interrupted by a measurably more chipper Southern accent. "Thank you so much, Paul. I think I'll live now." Leaning over the back of a chair, she asked, "Would you like some coffee?"

"Sure." He followed her into the kitchen then joined her at the table.

Nervously tapping her cup, she laughed, "Well, if you had any ideas about repossessing him...today might be a good day. For me, that is."

Paul laughed at the joke but understood the insecurity it displayed. "No, dear lady. I think he's in better hands here." Giving her a fatherly pat on the arm, he offered, "From what I've been told, pretty strong hands."

The relief caught her by surprise. Savannah had given up being concerned about Paul's approval. No news was good news. But, to hear him actually express it was confirmation. She perked up a bit. "Well, I've toughened up a bit since Kermit and I first met. We've had to be there for each other through some pretty frightening times. But we seem to make a good team!"

Paul sighed and put down his coffee. Getting up from his seat, he approached Savannah and gripped her arms lightly as he made her stand face to face with him. "Now, let's get something straight right now, young lady," he said severely, but with a wink, "you don't need to sell me on yourself. You are now his wife. Till you and he decide otherwise. I have no power to revoke your marriage nor do I have plans to 'take him back' if this doesn't work out. So, these are my orders: you just be your own delightful self and, as to what anyone else - including me! - may think of this union, let them go hang! Do we understand each other, young lady?!"

Savannah fought back a giggle. "Yes, Captain!"

"Good! Maybe now I can enjoy my coffee...." He let go of her and sat back down again.

Savannah poured some coffee for herself, musing briefly about the strong-willed Captain. She could see how he was able to sit on Kermit - and Peter - all these years. The same capabilities and self-confidence Kermit had, Paul Blaisdell had in spades! Smiling, she joined him at the table.

"Now, Kermit said I could get the story of Truong Qui from you," Paul said. "Please tell me everything."

Savannah hesitated for a split-second but realized that Kermit would want her to tell him everything. Especially about this. She told him the whole story from beginning to end, leaving nothing out. Paul listened intently, searching for meanings and events between the lines. When she was done, Paul could just sit there...in shock. Caine breaking Kermit's conditioning...Peter stopping Kermit from the assassination...Kermit had even told her the details of how he had killed Truong Qui. Paul looked into his empty coffee cup in reflection, fighting off the wave of guilt he felt that he should have been there. But, in truth, he had to admit that Peter handled it expertly, possibly better than he could have done. *And WHY didn't I think of Caine in the first place???* Paul thought. Kermit could have been freed from his torment the second Paul met the man, but it just hadn't occurred to him.

Savannah filled his cup. "Now, it's your turn."

Paul looked up. "With what?"

"He...um...he still has nightmares about it," she confessed. "About them. Maybe if you told me how you helped him the first time...."

Paul shook his head. "Nothing will stop the nightmares, Savannah. It's...it's a part of us. I'm afraid you're stuck with it."

"I'd still like to know what you did to help him," Savannah persisted. "He doesn't remember much of it. He said only that you rescued him and brought sanity back to his life. I'd like to know how."

Paul sighed. "Well, you have to remember, Savannah, that, at that time, Kermit was only twenty-two years old. A far cry from what he is now. He was like...a different person then."

Savannah could also notice a smokescreen when she saw it. She put a hand on his and looked at him through lowered eyelashes. "Please," she asked quietly. "I want to know."

Paul sighed. *Kermit was right!* he thought. *She does rule the world with her eyelashes!* Trouble was, that demure act made Paul want to protect her. Telling that story was a far cry from protecting her from pain. "It's not pretty," he warned her.

"I know. Please go on. How did you find out that he was...taken?"

Paul sighed from the memory. "When a shipment went sour," he told her. "I had told him that this group of five shipments had to go out like clockwork. Number five blew up in our faces." Seeing her confusion, he said, "Never mind how or what. It's not important. What WAS important was that I broke my word - the fifth delivery didn't go through. That's an unforgivable offense. People HAVE to rely on your word. Once they don't, you starve. I was furious. I stormed back to our makeshift headquarters with the intention of giving that little hellion a piece of my mind!"

"'Little *hellion*'?" Savannah asked, smiling.

"Oh, yeah, you should have seen him when I first got ahold of him," Blaisdell groaned. "Typical teenage mentality. He thought he knew more than us decrepit old folks who should've retired to their rocking chairs long ago....Every damn time during those early years, I'd tell him to do something and he'd just say, "It would be better if we did it THIS way...." Blaisdell shook his head. "Thankfully, he did learn enough in Vietnam to get some of the ego kicked out of him so, by the time I left him in charge of those five shipments, I trusted him to do what I told him to do. I thought that he'd done a turnaround number on me, shipped the fifth shipment out his own way, and he screwed it up."

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