Kermit Griffin had been wheeled out of the chrome and glass building thirty minutes ago. Jennifer had stood on the sidewalk and watched Savannah crawl into the waiting ambulance that rushed them both to the hospital. The look on her face had been a mixture of relief and terror. There was so much blood coating Kermit's clothing it appeared he was wearing a bright red shirt.

Now, she was performing Savannah's pacing dance over the concrete.

*He's okay. They said he was okay.*

Scores of wounded men had been hauled from the lobby of the building. Some were loaded into patrol cars and some were carted off by one of the many ambulances called to the scene. The sight of one large body bag being withdrawn by the coroner's officials twisted a slice of memory in her stomach. The image of her grandfather's body sprang to life, bringing all the regret and sorrow with it.

That memory also included Peter Caine. Peter Caine the cop who solved the crime. Peter Caine who filled up an empty place in her life.

*You'd better get your very nice butt out here, Caine.*

Eyes fixed on the door, Jennifer held tight to her little boy's body. The long day and comforting motion of her pacing had lulled KC to sleep on her shoulder. She rubbed his back gently, surprised that the sound of her pounding heart hadn't kept him awake.

As she kissed his dark, silky hair, Jennifer caught sight of a flurry of activity bursting from the heavy glass doors. Karen Simms strolled out first, holding the door open as Peter stepped through. He was pale, his shirt soaked through with sweat. A thick white bandage was twisted around his forearm and, though Peter looked like a man who belonged on his back more than his feet, he repeatedly shoved a persistent EMT away.

The blood smeared across his shirt front was alarming but didn't seem to be slowing him down as he caught sight of her and doubled his shaky strides. Jennifer wanted to run toward him but trembling knees and a heavy toddler held her still as Peter came walking gloriously toward her. As she opened her mouth to speak, she found it filled with a deep, welcoming kiss. The warmth of his hand caressed her cheek and she kissed him back as if they weren't in a public place in front of a crowd. All the fear of the past hour faded away in the gentle tangle of his mouth on hers.

When Peter finally pulled back, he kept his hand on her face. It trembled slightly and Jennifer held her own against it in comfort. The look in his eyes was painted with sadness and fatigue. He moved his hand and softly touched KC's hair.

Jennifer stepped back and pointed toward the blood soaked through his shirt. "Is that yours?"

"No," he said, looking down at the stain. "Well, not most of it."

"You look terrible."

"I'd have to agree."

Shifting her finger to point toward his bandaged arm, she said, "How bad is it?"

"Worth a quick visit to the ER but that's all."

Jennifer wet her lips and swallowed the lump in her throat. She wanted to be clear, especially at this particular moment. "Peter, I have something to tell you."

For a moment, he seemed to flinch. His body stiffened and his hazel eyes darkened. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with resignation. "Okay," Peter said, touching KC once again.

"Yes."

The sadness in his eyes shifted to confusion.

Taking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Listen closely. I said, yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes! Are you going deaf, Shaolin?" She laced her fingers with his own. "Yes, I'll marry you."

*****

It took a few stunned seconds for her words to sink into his brain. Peter looked down at Jennifer in disbelief. Of all the words he expected to hear, 'yes' was NOT one of them. He had prepared for the gentle rejection that she would surely offer after being witness to this proof of his volatile lifestyle.

He had even braced himself for an angry attempt to sever any contact with his son.

He wanted to believe it, wanted to believe that something he'd dreamed about was about to happen. But, Peter Caine's dreams often turned into nightmares. He had to be certain. If this rug came sailing out from beneath his feet, he wasn't sure he could withstand the fall.

Looking down into her warm dark eyes, Peter read the sincerity, the love. The corners of her mouth were tipped up, as she seemed to enjoy catching him off guard.

"Jen," he said, taking her hand, "are you certain you want this? After all you've seen today?"

Her smile widened, a radiant smile with a beauty that seemed to grow with the passing seconds. "Crazy, huh? Lacking mental stability has never been a deal killer. Lucky for us." Jennifer held his hand and sent his heart into overdrive. "We are a family, Peter. You and me and our son. If there is danger, we'll deal with it. But I would rather deal with you than without you."

"I have to stay in Chinatown," Peter said, kissing the soft smooth skin of her hand. Chinatown would be a daily reminder for Jennifer of her family's rejection. He wanted her to understand up front.

"Wherever we are together will be home," she said, leaning her head against her son's sleeping one. "Chinatown sounds like a wonderful place to raise our son."

"I don't have any money."

"Good thing I have lots," she answered, looping her arm around his waist and urging him toward the waiting ambulance. "You do what you must, Peter. I'll do what I must. My work isn't something I can give up either."

Peter found himself leaning on Jennifer's smaller frame for support. The torrent of emotion raging through him conspired with the pain and weakness to leave him drained. For a moment, he wrapped himself around her physically and emotionally, irrationally terrified that at this moment of joy, Jennifer and his son would vaporize and leave him alone.

Snuggling in under his arm, Jennifer seemed to read his fear. "I love you, Peter."

Stopping at the ambulance door, Peter smiled through his pain and exhaustion. "I love you, too. Both of you."

Peter climbed slowly into the ambulance, joined by his family.

*****

Savannah slowly pushed open the door to Kermit's room. After an hour of surgery to properly close his wounds, the man lay in an uncommon repose. Kermit hated sedation, hated hospitals, and hated losing control. He battled unconsciousness till the end.

Inevitably, the anesthesia won out. Savannah eased her way to his bedside, holding his hand carefully so as not to disturb the IV that pierced his left hand. The sight of him with color flushed from his face, lying in an unnatural sleep, tied the knot in her stomach more tightly. Bearing the terrifying possibility of losing both her child and her husband had drained her as well. Drawing a chair close to Kermit's side, she sat silently enjoying the sound of his breathing.

She was exhausted, tired down into her bones. The ordeal had begun with Kermit's undercover operation to bring down Latrodect and ended by nearly destroying their family. The doubts and suspicions born that morning weeks ago when she had found the condom in Kermit's wallet were now exploding in her mind. The anger that she had swallowed over and over was now lying in wait to claim her. She loved him and hated what he had delivered to their child's doorstep. Fury, and shame at that fury, pounded inside her skull, the dull ache forcing her eyes closed.

Her child. Shielding her from danger and the brutal realities of life was now an obvious fantasy that she could no longer maintain. Still, Savannah had tried to hold on to Kat's safety zone. She hadn't allowed her near the crime scene as Kermit was wheeled from the building. No, as Kermit had been rushed to an ambulance, blood-soaked and semi-conscious, Kat had remained two blocks away under Mary Margaret's tender care. She didn't want her traumatized any further by the violence that had invaded her pre-school world. While the doctors had tended Kermit, Savannah had stroked and comforted a terrified child who refused to rest.

The hatred she felt for Latrodect and Emma burned with a savage flame. Even knowing of Emma's final change of sides did little to quench the flame bearing her name. At least they were in custody -- Emma locked away downtown and Latrodect near death several floors away under police guard -- without the ability to hurt them any further. The hatred was making her sick. With a conscious force, she beat the hatred and anger back. She had other things to think about now.

Kermit stirred slightly, grunting against the heavy weight of drugs and weakness. Rising quickly, Savannah stroked his forehead and whispered into his ear. "It's okay, baby. I'm here."

The same words she had used to soothe her daughter were now directed toward the man who needed her, the man who had nearly died to save their child. Savannah felt another brush of shame at the harsh words she had used before Kermit went in search of their daughter. 'You fix this,' she had said. It brought tears to her eyes.

Turning his head slowly, Kermit searched out her eyes. His unshielded gaze was disturbing in its vulnerability. His dark brown eyes could hide nothing from her. Still dazed from the drugs, he opened his mouth to speak, only to have the words dry up on his lips. Grabbing a cup of water and bending a straw to his lips, Savannah helped him drink.

His head dropped back against the pillow and he pinched his eyes closed. "Are you in pain, sugar?" Savannah said, putting the cup away.

"No," he answered, his voice rasping from the painkillers. He shook his head against the turmoil.

"The doctor said you'll be able to go home in a couple of days," she said, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

"One day."

She couldn't suppress the laughter. "If I were you, I wouldn't argue with me. It might get ugly."

"On second thought," he said, a slight grin tilting his mouth, "maybe I'll reconsider." Reaching for the controls, he adjusted the bed so he could sit more upright.

"Emma's locked up and Latrodect is in pretty bad shape but under guard." The dark look that drifted over his face was frightening. "Even that moron Rolph should be able to make a case stick against them."

Savannah watched as her husband physically fought his anger. His hand tightened on hers with the force of the emotion. Changing the topic, he asked, "How's Kat?"

She couldn't soft sell that situation. "Physically, she's fine. One of the ER docs gave her an exam. I'm so grateful that she wasn't hurt. But emotionally..." She looked toward the hall where her terrified child sat with her godmother.

"What?"

"She's confused and scared. I don't think she'll be able to relax until she sees that you're okay with her own little eyes. She keeps crying about hurting you, Kermit, and she's afraid the 'bad people' are coming back."

The look on Kermit Griffin's face was indescribibly sad. The guilt lay across his features, heavy and thick. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her that it wasn't her fault and that the bad people were gone," Savannah answered, controlling the heartbreak rising in her own throat. "Molly recommended someone who deals with children who've been traumatized but I think she really needs to see you first just to be certain you're still here."

"Go get her," Kermit said, pulling himself into a more seated position. The movement caused him to wince with the pain.

"I'll bring her in the morning when you're stronger."

Savannah began to fuss with his blanket and he grabbed her hand. Holding it softly, he leveled his voice. "Really, bring her in. I need to see her as much as she needs to see me."

Only someone who knew him well would have heard the desperation in his voice. Leaning down more closely, Savannah asked, "Are you certain you're up to it, Kermit? If she sees you at less than yourself, it might just make it worse." She pressed her hand to his cheek, trying to relieve some of his pain.

"I'll be what she needs. Just bring her in so she'll feel secure."

There was no arguing with that resolution. Savannah smiled at his willingness to do anything, suffer anything for his child. "All right. I'll bring her in for a while if you promise to rest after we leave."

"Promise."

"Liar."

"Keep up that sassy mouth and I'll turn you over my knee."

"Promises, promises," she said, smiling as she went toward the door.

Before she reached for the handle, Kermit's voice followed her there. "How is Peter?"

She stopped and turned back to face him. "They took the bullet out of his arm and Jennifer took him home. He said he'd come back tomorrow." She paused, watching Kermit's face closely. She knew what had happened between Kermit and Peter -- and what would happen later. "He wouldn't leave until he knew you were okay. Whatever you need to say to each other can wait until then."

"Oh."

"Actually," she said, letting a satisfied smile roam across her lips, "I think he has other plans tonight. Seems he and Jennifer got engaged this afternoon."

The troubled look on Kermit's face lifted, just a bit. "I suppose you plan to take credit for that?"

"Of course I do," she said, leaving the room.

Kermit stared at the door after her, doing his best to settle his body before Kat came into the room. His shoulder had begun to throb and the roller coaster of terror and rage had left him off balance. Taking in several deep breaths, he willed himself to some sort of balance.

Savannah eased back into the room with their daughter on her hip. Kat's clothing was wrinkled, one corner of her shirt tucked in, the other dangling over the edge of her skirt. She seemed as exhausted and worn as the rest of them. Her green eyes were washed in red and her tiny face was puffy and blotted from crying.

"Daddy?" Her voice sounded so quiet, distant.

"Come here, sweet thing," he said, holding out his right arm, carefully concealing the IV still attached to his left.

Savannah placed the little girl beside him on the bed and Kermit reached up to hold her cheek. "How's my girl? I'm very proud of you for being so brave."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she said, her voice small and shaky. "I hurt you bad. I sorry."

"Listen to Daddy, Kitty Kat," Kermit said, shifting his tone to a strong father's voice.

"None of this is your fault. That bad man gave you a gun and tried to hurt both of us.

You're a little girl and you wouldn't hurt anyone." Kat scooted closer to him, putting her hand over his as it rested on her cheek. "Daddy is fine and in a couple of days, we'll be at home together. The bad people are locked away and they can never hurt you again.

Daddy's sorry that you were scared, sweetheart."

"You're not mad at me?" Her eyes were bright and wide now, relief beginning to form.

"No, baby. Are you mad at me?" Kermit smoothed her hair, pleased that she seemed to be relaxing. He had brought that frightened look to her face and he wouldn't rest until it was gone.

"I love you, Daddy." With that, the little girl curled up at his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

For a long time, they lay there with Savannah watching from a chair. Kermit looped his arm around her, needing to feel her breathing. The dark thoughts of what she would remember, of what future fears she would experience because of what had happened that day were wiped away. She was here, with him, in his arms. No matter what it cost him, he would never put her in that sort of danger ever again. No matter what.

Slowly, her breathing leveled into a deep rhythm and Kermit craned his neck to look down into the round little face. Her long lashes swept over her pudgy cheeks and her lips puckered in a sweet circle as she drifted off to sleep. Savannah rose quietly from her chair and moved to lift her.

Mouthing the word, "No," Kermit waved her off. They had all suffered today and he wouldn't risk waking her. His own demons seemed further away with his daughter sleeping safely in his arms.

Savannah smiled and gently removed Kat's tennis shoes then made sure they were both covered with a blanket. Kermit watched her movements, happy that she also seemed more relaxed.

The door opened once again and a nurse walked in to check his wounds and vital signs. Noticing the child curled up at his side, she whispered, "Mr. Griffin, children aren't allowed on this floor. I'm afraid she'll have to leave."

Kermit turned his head toward the nurse and kept his voice and irritation low. "After the day we've both had, I can assure you that there isn't anyone big enough in this hospital to take her from me. Do what you have to do and go but she stays. Understand?"

The nurse looked disgusted, but resigned to the fact that she would have little luck removing this child from this father. She checked his wounds and vitals then administered another sedative before leaving.

Kermit brushed his lips across the black curls on his shoulder. "Sleep tight, baby girl," he whispered, finally letting go to the darkness. She was safe in his arms and they could both rest.

*****

Peter felt the weight of at least ten thousand pounds on his body. To remain upright in the shower had required holding onto the walls with both hands. Now, he was lying in his bed and slowly allowing himself to fade into the sheets. His bed still seemed odd in this apartment. His father's futon had been pushed into the other room and was now KC's resting place. No, Peter wouldn't give up his bed and now he felt more comfortable with that alteration of his father's world. Today he had discovered his world. Not a mixture of tricks and herbal knowledge, but a new self. A self not molded by father or friend.

But now, that self was tired. Peter closed his eyes and let the scent of candles wrap around his senses. Jennifer was in the other room tucking their son into bed. She had come home with him as if it had been her home always. When he had come out of the shower, he found Jennifer had ringed the room with candles, knowing that he needed the comfort and solace of the low flickering flames. He had eased down into the clean sheets and quiet, the only sound coming from the other room. Jennifer's soft voice drifted through the room as she lulled KC to sleep. Peter couldn't make out the words, but the rhythm suggested a story. The sounds were comforting and began to ease him into sleep as well.

Time folded around him in the darkness. Sleep came easily, wrapping around him with the warm air caressing his chest. After a long time of nothing, another touch brushed over his skin. Jennifer's spiced perfume tickled against his nose. Her body had slipped in beside his while he slept and molded against him. Her legs were smooth and taunt laying against his own. Soft, worn cotton covered her breasts as they pressed through one of his old T-shirts and kissed his flesh. Long silken hair draped over his arm as her head rested there.

"Hi," he said, barely awake but rousing fast.

Jennifer eased up to his lips, kissing him softly. "Go back to sleep, Shaolin." Her arm reached across his chest, covering him.

He reached back, wincing slightly as the wound in his arm awoke with him. "Think I'd rather be awake when I have a beautiful woman in my bed."

Jennifer gently kissed his wounded arm and eased it back to his side. "Then I think you'll be giving up sleep permanently because your bed is now my bed."

He laughed quietly, enjoying the feel of her touching his body. Her lips pressed against his throat, painting hot wet greeting to his flesh. "Relax and enjoy, then, priest. Let me offer you a hero's reward."

That smooth thigh eased between his legs, nuzzling a wake up to his other sleeping appendage. Jennifer slowly peeled away her clothing, baring her body to press freely against his own. One delicate hand reached down to slide his briefs below his hips. As she tugged the fabric to his knees, Peter lifted his legs and let her pull them free. With a slight brush, her lips kissed a path over his chest. The heat ignited an inferno when her mouth closed over his nipple and she began to suck the flame to life.

Groaning through the words, he whispered, "Love, my spirit is willing but--" He shut off the explanation as Jennifer fully straddled his hips and sat back in the candlelight. The hot, bare folds between her legs caressed him gently as she fit her body to his own. For a long moment, Peter let himself simply take in her beauty. The wavering light lent a spectacular dimension to her body. Long black hair flowed over her shoulders in a wild, sexy tangle. Her lips were deep red and turned playfully up at the corners. The fun she felt in sex had always drawn him to her. Things were passionate, yes, but there was always a touch of a play when they made love.

Reaching up with his one good arm, Peter cupped her breast, lifting it slightly. The contact drew a throaty moan and Jennifer's head dropped backward. Peter's fingers wandered across her body, touching the smooth flesh she offered up happily. Her nipples were hard beads, jutting out to meet his delicate attention. With one finger, he traced a line between her full breasts and drifted lazily down to her navel.

Punctuating her enthusiasm, Jennifer began to rock her hips, grinding a wet tune on his crotch. Even a body as lacking in energy as Peter Caine's could not ignore that with out a response. His hand opened, fanning out his fingers and he moved them lower. The dark mound of curls at her valley tangled hotly with his own rough fur and he stroked her softly. She purred with her mouth and her body.

Lowering herself back to lay on his chest, Jennifer said, "Don't worry about exerting yourself, Lover. Let me take this one."

Before he could imagine a 'thank you,' Jennifer had drizzled down his body. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the sensations as her hair stroked over his legs. Long strands trickled between his thighs and a moist inferno closed over his member. The darkness contracted around him, shutting off any feeling save for Jennifer's soft ministration to his body. She mercilessly tongued him to life until the flesh stretched to the breaking point. Peter reached down to mingle his hand in the soft black veil of hair as his body began to burn from the loving touches of her lips and tongue.

The pressure began to build to boiling as one hot, elegant hand closed around him and began to pump in a hectic rhythm. He was blinded by the red hot wave of sex. Somewhere in the haze of fire, Peter found his voice. "Jen...baby...you'd better..."

He couldn't finish the warning. His voice and air were being sucked away and his only point of life existed in her touch. Jennifer stopped the assault on his body without a sharp withdrawal. Easing her mouth and hand away, she straddled his aching spear and smiled down at him. "You were always so polite, my love," Jennifer groaned, slowly lowering herself over him.

Tight walls sealed around him, simultaneously comforting and inciting him. With agonizing patience, Jennifer withdrew and returned, shoving out his breath and reason with each motion. His hips found an energy all thier own, an energy that healings and mystic torture could not manage to suck from him. He thrust upward, meeting her return and pushing an enthusiastic moan from her lips. A sweet, wet sound permeated the air as they drove themselves together, bodies glistening in the flickering light.

"Yes...yes...," she sang into the air, her voice hushed and dreamy.

The climactic tidal wave rushed through his body, tightening every muscle as Peter erupted into her body. Jennifer ground over him in a desperate chase for more friction and contracted over his explosion. Her head rolled back over her shoulders and she came with him, throwing her hips back and forth as he spiked further into her body.

For a few seconds their bodies froze together, locked in the moment of sexual completion.

Gradually, sanity made its way back into the room and they melted together in the glow of candles and love making. Peter opened his arms, accepting Jennifer's body as she lay down against his chest. Her arms spread over him, hugging him in was seemed a desperate grasp. Peter closed his arms around her, holding her to him in the steam and moisture of their afterglow.

"So," he said, still panting, "are you planning to wear white?"

A river of laughter flooded across his chest and Jennifer shook with the force of it.

"Well, we know YOU certainly won't be wearing it."

"How 'bout bright red for both of us?" he asked, laughing with her and rolling her onto her back.

"How 'bout completely naked?" she giggled, then kissed him completely and tripped her fingers down his bare back. "Naked is a good color for you."

"Another thing we have in common." Peter kissed her again, exploring the sweet taste of her mouth. When he drew back, his mind shifted from the playful sex to the realization of this leap into another life. "I still can't believe you're mine, that you're here, that KC is here, that this is real."

"Believe it, Peter," she whispered, stroking his cheek with one finger. "We're here and I swear we're not going anywhere."

Peter swallowed her vow in another long kiss and gathered her into his arms. He believed, finally. This was real. This was his life.

*****

Hospital food was repulsive. Kermit slid the odd mixture of rubbery eggs and toast around his plate once before slamming the cover back over his breakfast and gulping down the orange juice. With a disgusted frown, he sat the glass back on its plastic tray. Even the juice was bad and he had no coffee. His mood headed somewhere south of annoyed.

*Savannah had better get me out of here by lunch.*Most people complained about hospital releases being shoved along by insurance companies. Not Kermit Griffin. Blue Cross and Blue Shield came to the rescue to assist in his battle to leave the hospital. For so long, his zeal to escape hospitals had been an obsessive need for privacy. Now, all he wanted was to go home, home to his family. He had some repair work to do there.

Kat had slept in his arms for several hours until Savannah had pulled her away and taken her home to her own cloud-filled room. He'd missed her with a physical ache after she had gone. The hours after Savannah carried her out of the room had been spent in dark speculation of what the past twenty-four hours may have done to his daughter. The things she had seen, an introduction to the real life version of 'the boogie man', how would they change her? This was a shadow he couldn't banish by turning on her night light.

That shadow was somewhere in that same hospital, still clinging to his miserable life. Every fiber of Kermit's being screamed for the hunt. Latrodect was already down. Finishing him off would be easy...but not as easy as it would have been years ago. Now, he hesitated. The killer in him was being held at bay by his new life, his new commitments. Savannah and Kat stood between Kermit Griffin and his inner vigilante. Peter Caine was there, also, blocking his way, whispering to fortify his conscience.

The door breathed open and admitted one of those obstacles. Peter leaned around the edge of the door, then seemed startled to find him awake. The priest remained silent as he committed to coming inside and stepped into the room. Kermit quietly sized up his younger friend. Something was different. The awkward posture and uncomfortable aura he anticipated were absent. In the past when there had been differences between them, Peter Caine had always sought out Kermit's good graces with a deference to his age. There was usually the implied need for his approval. Kermit had to admit to enjoying his status as older brother.

Today, Peter didn't seem to be seeking anything from him, approval or forgiveness.

Peter stood straight and tall at the end of Kermit's bed. His expression was relaxed, comfortable. The silence broke between them as Peter spoke. "How are you?"

"Good as I look and they tell me I look great." Kermit held his expression firm, still mentally analyzing Peter's firm stance.

"They lied," Peter said, cracking a smile and folding down into a chair. He stretched his legs, propping both feet on the edge of the bed. "I spoke to Savannah. She said Kat was better this morning."

Kermit looked away. Better was a relative term. Considering how small and frightened she had been last night, better might not be a significant improvement.

"At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I'll remind you that you shouldn't blame yourself for Latrodect's actions," Peter said, quietly.

"No, but I can take all the blame for my own." He had opened the door. Now, it was time to walk through. "About yesterday--"

"No apologies, Kermit," Peter said, waving his hand in dismissal.

"I wasn't going to offer one." He paused, shifting carefully in the bed as his physical and mental discomfort grew. "Well," he said, backpedaling just a bit, "not for everything, that is."

Peter nodded, remaining silent as Kermit tried to clear his throat and thoughts. Being the quiet listener was also a new stance Peter the Priest had adopted.

"First, you saved my daughter's life. I'll never be able to repay that debt." Kermit swallowed hard against the 'what if' that came to mind.

"There are no debts between us, Kermit," Peter said, his voice strong and deliberate. "You've been at my back when I've needed you. If it were my son, you would have been there for me."

"How long have I known you?" Kermit asked, letting a slight smile come to his face.

Peter put both feet back on the floor and leaned his elbows on his knees. He smiled, too. "I think I'd been with Paul and Annie about a year when you showed up for the first time." Laughing low and happy in remembrance, he said, "As I recall, I drove you nuts with questions until you growled at me and said, 'Get away from me before your face ends up on a milk carton.'"

It was Kermit's turn to laugh. The vision of Peter's thin, teen-aged face going pale was still vivid in his memory. "As I recall, it only slowed you down for about thirty minutes then you were back like the proverbial horsefly that couldn't be shooed away." Kermit waited for that familiar color to rise into Peter's face. When it arrived, he said, "Kelly and Carolyn wouldn't come near me, but not you. You weren't the least bit put off by the mess I was at that time."

"Very little frightened me after what I'd seen at the temple. I was pretty hardened myself back then."

"Yeah, I knew that," Kermit said, remembering long conversations with Paul about the 'son' he had welcomed into their lives. That new son was a good kid who was pretty messed up and needed some place to renew and rebuild. Those conversations had been veiled observations of Kermit's own life, delicate hints to accept Paul's offer to join the police force and be a team once again. "Even then, you accepted me as is and I've never known you to demand that I be anything else.

"I won't apologize for wanting Latrodect dead," Kermit said, his eyes growing dark with the admission. "But, I am sorry for wanting you to be part of it. It was wrong of me to ask you to deny who you are, what you believe. I want him dead, but not by your hand."

"By your own?" Peter turned the offering back on Kermit. "It would be easy to do. He's two floors up, nearly dead already."

The scenario wasn't presented as a temptation and Kermit understood the psychology of Peter's words. Kermit allowed himself a revelation. "Yes, and a few years ago, I might have helped him along to hell. Now, there are people standing between me and my inner killer."

"I remember you making this decision a few years ago in Florida."

Kermit could still feel the itch in his palm as Douglas Larson, his brother's murderer, had groveled before his gun. He had fought the urge to kill him just as he was fighting the urge to kill Latrodect. The control was hard won. "Yes, but the cost of killing him in cold blood would be even higher now. I can't do anything that would hurt my family. Killing him in self defense is one thing, murdering him now--"

"Revenge is found on a costly path. Takes you away from the people you're trying to protect."

"You're going to make a fine father," Kermit said, changing the uncomfortable subject. "Robert Young ala Bruce Lee."

Peter laughed out loud. "Just get Jennifer a set of pearls, high heels, and a vacuum cleaner and we'll be 'Father Knows Best.'"

"When's the wedding?" Kermit pounded his pillow and shifted painfully onto his side. They had covered the prickly territory and could move on.

"Soon," Peter said, running a nervous hand through his hair. "I'd like for my father to be here but there's no way to know when he'll be back."

The hurt was slight ,but audible, in Peter's words. "I think he would understand. And just think of the shock you can give him when he does finally show up. Nice for someone to surprise the old man for a change." As Peter's expression lightened again, Kermit asked, "What changed her mind?"

"Hell if I know," Peter said, leaning back in his chair. "I thought yesterday would drive her away permanently but, crazy as it sounds, it seemed to bring her to me. I'll never figure out women."

"Don't try," Kermit groaned, shaking his head . "How do you think I got all this gray hair?"

Rising slowly and stretching his legs, Peter shook his head and answered the lament. "Between a wife and this kid, I can see many gray hairs in my future."

"Resistance is futile."

As Peter reached the door, he looked quickly back. "Bestman?"

Kermit let a rare grin spread wide over his face. His bare eyes brighter than before. "Oh yeah."

"Great," Peter said, patting the hard surface of the door. "I'll check on you when you get home. Let me know if you need anything."

The door closed and Kermit listened as Peter's boot heels clicked down the hall. "You, too, kid."

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