"How could you sleep with her?!"

Kermit felt the blistering power of her words strike against his face. The blow was swift and sharp. Savannah paused briefly, staring back at him with an almost shocked expression after the words flew out of her mouth.

"Just exactly what are you upset about, Savannah?" he asked, meeting her blazing anger with a blanket of ice. "That I slept with Emma three years ago? That I went undercover for the Feds? That I nearly got our daughter killed? What?"

His quiet tone only seemed to fuel her rage and send her stalking across the length of the room. Hands waving in the air, she said, "I have so many problems with this I can't separate them all." Coming to a dead stop in front of her husband, Savannah began to slice at him with her words. "Do you know what it was like when you sent me away, Kermit?" she asked, anger rocking her voice. "I was pregnant and terrified and still so full of you that there could have never been room in me for another man. I went home to Memphis and prayed every night that you'd come after me but you didn't."

"I did what I thought was right at the time." His answer was wooden in the face of Savannah's furious waves crashing against him. In an instant, she had transported them backward into over three years of unfinished business. "Don't think I didn't want to come after you but I wanted to protect you more. If I had known about the baby, maybe it would have been different."

"Oh, right," she spat back at him as she stalked back and forth in front of him. "You were hurting but you were able to drown your sorrows in Emma's bed. How could you do that so soon, Kermit? With her? With that kind of woman?"

The exhaustion and emotion began to wear away his control and Kermit returned fire. "What do you want from me, Savannah? I told you about this. I don't have some magic that can rewrite the past. If I could, I would have changed it already."

"I understood the past, Kermit," she said, coming to a rigid stop in front of her husband. "I hate it but I could live with it. I didn't want to know about this time. I thought I could handle the present but when I found--" Savannah's lips clamped down tightly over the rest of her sentence, holding it inside. Her eyes were bright with an unspoken pain.

"When you found what?"

"That thing in your wallet. You slept with her again and all this came down on our heads!" She blurted out the confession and accusation with an explosive force.

A brittle silence engulfed the room, leaving only a vacuum of doubt and mistrust. Kermit's confusion lasted only seconds as his mind tried to get in sync with his wife's mysterious rage.

Then his hand traveled quickly to his back pocket. Jerking his wallet free, he pulled out the forgotten item and held it in his wife's face. "Is this the 'thing' you found, Savannah? This?"

Savannah turned away from the sight of the condom packet Kermit held in front of her. "Yes. I thought I could just pretend I didn't know but I can't anymore."

"What exactly is it that you know, Savannah?" His voice became hard with a defensive rigor. "Answer me."

She turned her eyes back to face him, hurt blazing in a green haze. "That you slept with her again." Quickly, she turned away from the packet he continued to hold inches from her face.

With one angry hand, Kermit ripped off his shades, clattering them to Karen's desk. "Look at me." When she defiantly stared at the door, he took her face in his fingers and forced her back into the confrontation. "Look at this."

"I've seen it already and I know that WE don't use them."

Savannah's jaw was hard in his hand and he felt his fingers press roughly against her skin. Instantly, he softened his grip. Pulling his hand away, he said, "Do you see this blue decal?"

Savannah's eyes followed his finger as Kermit pointed out the small round spot on one side of the packet. She nodded and he peeled off the mesh decal, attaching it to a piece of paper on the edge of Karen's desk. "It's a sedative. Works like a nicotine patch. Attach it to your neck and within three minutes you're unconscious."

Savannah's eyes were fixed on the pale blue dot. Kermit watched puzzle pieces snap together in his wife's mind. "I thought...I mean, Emma said..." Her voice wavered, her face flushed red over the previous pale fury.

"She thinks we did." Kermit put the condom back into his pocket. "I had to keep my cover to protect all of us but I'm not stupid, Savannah."

"Oh, God," she whispered, finally finding his eyes again. Tears tracked down her cheeks as she realized her mistake. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." One of her hands trembled violently and she clutched at her throat, her voice now a broken string of sound. "I saw those scratches on your back, that bruise on your neck and I thought that she--" The sound faded away to silence.

"Yes, the scratches were from that witch before she passed out," he said, still in a defensive mode. "The bruise wasn't from Emma sucking on my neck, Savannah. It was from Latrodect pumping me full of poison."

"I...I...thought you had been with her. It all seemed to fit together," she said, words tumbling over trembling lips.

"You should have asked me, Savannah. Why didn't you ask me?" All the weeks of tension now had an explanation. The sting of her doubt caught him by surprise. All the hard looks and silence, all the distance, had been because of one unasked question.

"I was afraid you would tell me the truth. I KNEW you would tell me the truth and I was afraid to hear it. I was afraid to hear you say you had slept with her." Savannah turned her back to him.

"I'm sorry."

She was sobbing, her shoulders trembling as Kermit's hands slipped up her arms. She felt small in his grasp and he gently kneaded her tense muscles. For years, Savannah had been his unquestioning partner, accepting each and every mission, each and every danger. The weight of his life was now on her small shoulders. She had limits, something he had forgotten. Far too much had been left unsaid between them.

"You know, I watched you move out of your house," he said, leaning in more closely. Three long years ago, before the marriage, before Kat, he had shoved her away. It seemed like yesterday and forever since it had happened, another life that belonged to other people.

The blonde head drooped slightly. Her voice hushed, she said, "You did?"

The memory was still bright in his mind. The agony and helplessness of losing her remained a dull ache in his chest. "I borrowed a car from the impound and parked on your street. You were leaving but I had to see you once more. Two men were loading your things into a moving van and you were standing beside a garbage can at the end of the driveway." He wrapped his arms around her, quieting his voice and touching her ear with his lips. "You threw an arm full of trash into the can and then you stood there in the sun staring down into the pile."

A small laugh broke through her tears. "I was so mad I was chucking everything you'd ever given me." Resting her head against his cheek, Savannah began to relax in his arms.

"I noticed that," he said, the brokenhearted look still fresh in his memory. "In a way, it was comforting watching you throw the remnants of me out of your life. I thought you could delete me then get on with a nice safe life far away from what I had brought down on you. But then you started dragging each piece out of the garbage and holding onto it." He could still see her, hair falling out of a sloppy ponytail, sinking to the grass and weeping over a pile of dead flowers, CDs, and photos.

"I couldn't let go of you," she whispered, a wet cheek pressed against his own.

"And it didn't matter what I tried after you were gone. I couldn't let go of you." Turning her around to face him, he said, "I chose most of the standard vices. Booze wouldn't do it. Flirting with my death wish wouldn't do it. And even my brief use of Emma wouldn't do it." Brushing her cheeks with his thumbs, he smoothed her tears. "It was you and it will always be you. I won't risk losing what we have ever again." Looking deeply into her red rimmed eyes, he made a promise. "No more missions."

Sucking in a deep breath, Savannah took his hands in her own. "Don't say things you don't mean or make promises you can't keep, Kermit."

"Isn't this what you want?" Now, he was puzzled. This should be the answer to her prayers.

"You mean that today, but when something comes along, the right cause or the right person in trouble, you won't be able to turn away," she answered, stroking his beard with one hand. "I can't lie anymore and say it doesn't bother me when you go back to being a mercenary. And, I have thought of asking you to choose me over a mission every time you go. The possibility that someday you might not come home is always there in my heart. It terrifies me. But the love is bigger than the fear, Kermit. I can love you and still hate these things that happen without letting it poison what we have, can't I?"

"Can you?" It was his turn to ask a question and fear the answer. "You've had three years of this and if it's too much, no one would blame you."

His answer came with two arms sliding inside his jacket to wrap around his body. She pulled him close and he rested his chin on her hair. The smell of her, the feel of her, filled him and he closed his arms around her.

"It doesn't have to be black and white, Griffin," she said, quietly. "It doesn't have to be take it or leave it. I love you and I'm not going anywhere. But, I don't have to like every part of this thing you do just like you don't have to be in love with all of me."

"Well, that's good," he replied, kissing the top of her head. "Because you snore."

"I do not."

"And all those frilly things hanging in the bathroom."

"Oh please."

"And the matchmaking."

"Now wait a minute!"

"Not to mention the public brawling."

Pulling back, Savannah twisted her mouth into a disgusted wrinkle. "All right, that's enough."

Gently, he smoothed her hair back from her face. "I am sorry and I do mean it when I say that I'm finished with mercenary missions."

A soft kiss brushed his lips and his wife lingered against his mouth as she spoke. "I'm sorry, too, and I know you want to stop." She hugged him fiercely before letting him go. She didn't look him in the eye, only turned toward the door, ending the conversation for good.

Another tear slid from the corner of her eye and trickled sadly down her face. Kermit watched the droplet slip down her cheek without comment. Taking her hand, they left the office together.

****

Emma leaned impatiently against the dark sedan, still clutching a handkerchief to her battered nose. Her head throbbed and her stomach was twisted into a hardened knot. Mind already turning over options, Emma grabbed hold of her anger and began to funnel it into a plan.

*I'll get you and your bitch wife, too.*

Latrodect was probably on his way to the morgue soon so she would be free to make her own plans. Uncle Sam would provide the perfect cover and she would be back with a vengeance. Kermit Griffin would pay for his betrayal and for his threats. His wife would rot right along with him. The thought of revenge set a warm fire ablaze in her belly.

Pain adding to her irritation, Emma yelled at her guard, "Could you hurry up?! I'm bleeding here."

Agent Rolph rubbed his temple with one hand and returned the new agent's credentials with the other. Ignoring Emma's remarks, he addressed the other agent and opened the car door. "She's all yours."

"Thanks for nothing, Rolph," Emma said, sliding into the back seat. "I hope these guys can defend me against the next deranged housewife we encounter."

Rolph stared coldly at the woman then stepped back to allow the new man to slide in beside Emma. "Where is she going, Agent Madison?"

The younger man glared back from behind dark glasses and smiled. "Sorry, Agent, that's classified." Cutting off the exchange, Agent Madison closed the door in Rolph's face.

Emma sized up her new escort. He was younger than Rolph and moved with more grace than the other stiff agents she had seen before. Kicking off her shoes, Emma curled her legs up onto the seat and leaned back against the cool leather. Her nose was throbbing and the pain in her head was deafening.

"If I need surgery to put my nose back EXACTLY the way it was, I expect you guys to foot the bill, Madison," Emma said, closing her eyes against the pain.

Silence met her complaints. Opening her eyes again, she stared at the man beside her. His dark hair was slick and glossy against his head. Dark shades covered his eyes and he fixed his gaze forward as they drove. Long and lean, his body seemed poised for movement. Arms folded firmly in front of him, he ignored her presence.

Turning her attention to the driver, she tapped his shoulder and asked, "Where are you taking me? It better not be that infested county hospital. I want a good hospital then a five star hotel and some decent clothes."

The driver remained equally unresponsive.

"Fine, don't talk to me then," she said, aggravation blending with her physical discomfort. The car moved quickly through the city, leaving Chinatown and Kermit Griffin far behind. It was a substantial relief to see that part of the city fade in the rearview mirror. It would take time for her to regroup.

Turning into a fast food parking lot, the driver brought them to a stop. "Hey! If you think I'm going to sit here and suffer while the two of you eat Big Macs, you're nuts. Get this car moving!" Emma screeched, slapping her hand against the front seat. Still, no response. Agent Madison efficiently clicked open his door and climbed into the front seat. Neither man spoke as the car eased back into traffic.

*You weren't such good company either, jerk,* Emma grumbled to herself.

Stretching out across the roomy expanse of back seat, she tried to rest. Time passed by in an odd pace as she dozed. Several times, she fluttered her eyes open to find the agents still silent as they drove through rush hour traffic. She had been asleep for quite a while when Emma finally came fully awake. Looking out the back window, she was just in time to see the city disappearing behind them.

"What about the hospital, you idiots?!" Kicking the front seat with her bare foot, Emma unleashed a tantrum that renewed the blinding headache pounding against her skull. As if on cue, a Plexiglas shield rose from a panel in the back of the front seat. A gentle hiss was the only sound as the glass rose then snapped into place against the roof of the car.

Her hands slowly chilled as the glass isolated her in the back seat. Tapping the clear barrier, she softened her formerly caustic tone. "Now, there's no need for you to jail me, fellows. I'm on your side. I'm not going anywhere."

The two men glanced at each other, smiled, then looked back toward the open road.

The chill of fear coated her hands and a shiver chiseled through her body. Panicked, Emma grabbed the door handle. She tugged frantically, only to have it snap uselessly in her hand. Sliding to the other side, she met the same failure. The doors remained locked in spite of her desperate efforts.

Returning to the center of the seat, Emma's terror overshadowed the constant pain in her face. Hugging her knees to her chest, she stared through the glass as Agent Madison turned to face her. Long fingers removed his shades and he smiled. His eyes were icy blue and seemed to dance with an unspoken thrill. The corners of his mouth turned up sharply and bright white teeth broke the pink lips as his smile widened. Opening his mouth, he slipped a dark pink tongue forward into the air, a tongue decorated with the mark of the black widow spider.

Emma screamed as the man turned away and they drove on into the night.

*****

Latrodect lay isolated inside his broken body. Awareness came in jagged slices. Sometimes he could hear the nurses as they mumbled about his crimes. They were afraid of him, even in his near-death state. Doctors spoke over him to police officers as if he weren't in the room. Words like "blood clots" and "septic" caught his attention. He could feel the blunt plastic tubing that had been plugged into his trachea silencing his voice. When he tried to open his eyes, the light and movement around him made him ill.

He was weak. The strength that had once been bestowed to him was gone. He was like the rest, a weak, flaccid shell. Peter Caine had ripped away his gift and destroyed. He was dead without the power. Humanity was death.

The click of hard soled shoes moved beside his bed. Not medical personnel. They wore soft rubber soles. Perhaps the police guard. Forcing his eyes open, Latrodect fought the nausea and sought out the hospital room door. The officer's dark blue back filled the glass. Immobilized, his head could only sit limply on the pillow. Straining his eyes, he looked around the room. Nothing.

The steps sounded again, now at the head of his bed, just out of his peripheral vision. A cold hand lay against his forehead, sucking out the fevered heat. The touch was frighteningly familiar.

*Master.*

He ran the word through his thoughts, knowing the other being would hear. His master's touch reached through his flesh and bone, mingling with his own mind. Sharpened talons of power dug into his soul, scrapping away at his life.

*Failure. Unworthy.* The thoughts of the master pierced into Latrodect's consciousness. A death sentence. The gifts of the master had been stripped from him by the Shaolin. Now, only one sacrifice remained. Pain flooded throughout his body. Searing agony stretched out through his limbs, burning away what was left of his life.

Alarms rang in his ears as Latrodect felt death close around him. The nurses burst into his room as he left his body. The master was also gone.

*Defeat.*

*****

"NO! NO! NO!"

KC Caine had plopped his backside to the floor for the fourth time in fifteen minutes. Shouting in a furious toddler's voice, the little boy yanked off his black leather dress shoes and tossed them across Annie's living room floor. The socks followed and once in bare feet, he dug his toes into the plush carpeting. Running happily on his naked feet, KC made a small blur in his pint-sized navy suit.

Jennifer scooped up the shoes and tried to catch her son as he rounded the sofa. Hampered by high heels and a narrow white gown, the son held a distinct advantage over the mother.

"KC! You get back here this instant or you're in big trouble," Jennifer cried after the boy, barely catching a vase KC upset on his way around the the coffee table.

Her son's refusal to wear shoes on his parents' wedding day was merely one drop in a waterfall of disasters. The flowers were roses instead of the lilies she had ordered. The hem of her gown had been ripped by a near tumble down the stairs after breaking the heel of her shoe. Peter was no where in sight when he'd sworn on his life to be at Annie's house early for their intimate outdoor wedding.

To top it all off, the thunder that had begun thirty minutes ago had grown from a distant rumble to and insistent clatter.

"Please, sweetheart," Jennifer said, softening her tone and stopping the chase. "Be a good boy and wear your shoes. Please?" She held out the shoes, hoping KC would come to her, smile cooperatively, and bend to her will.

"NO!" The refusal passed through his lips with a hint of glee. Dark eyes gleamed with the joy of a child winning a battle. Rocking back and forth in the thick pile of beige carpet, KC dug in his will and wiggled his toes.

"Well, if he's not gonna wear 'em," Kat chimed, entering the room hand in hand with her mother, "I'm not wearin' 'em." Immediately flopping to the floor amid a froth of pink chiffon, the little girl shed her white Mary Janes and flexed her bare feet as well.

"Oh yes you will," Savannah said, reaching down to pull Kat back to her feet. "And you won't wallow on the floor in this dress."

"But they pinch, Mama," Kat complained, twisting away to stand by her younger companion. "We don't like 'em."

"Great. Just great." Jennifer eased herself down on the arm of the sofa and closed her eyes against another roll of thunder. Savannah took KC's shoes from her and cornered both children with soft words as she tried to convince them to comply. Jennifer opened her eyes just in time to see both children listen intently to whatever bribe Savannah offered, shake their heads, and resume dancing barefoot on the rug.

The thunder rattled the windows once again. The ping of wind-driven raindrops sounded against the windows. Her screwed up flower arrangements were about to be soaked, her head was pounding, her kid was barefoot, the groom was missing. This wedding had the makings of a prize winning blooper reel. Jennifer didn't believe in omens. She didn't want to believe, but the wind was beginning to howl and...

"Beautiful day for a wedding." Cool hands rested against her bare neck. A warm kiss brushed her ear. Peter leaned in close and she felt the dampness clinging to his hair, his cheek. "Looks like we have a mutiny on our hands to boot." Jennifer heard the grin in his voice even though she couldn't see his face.

"Oh, yes, Caine. It's a perfect day. Rain. Wind. Idiot florist. Graceless bride. Smartass groom and a kid who refuses to wear his shoes." Jennifer leaned back into Peter's hands. Calm pooled in his long fingers and she desperately wanted to absorb it. "Tell me this isn't an omen."

Obediently, Peter answered, "This isn't an omen."

"That the best you can do?" Jennifer asked, as his hands rubbed her neck. The wind drove heavy sheets of rain against the house, slapping wet flat beats on what remained of her carefully constructed outdoor wedding.

As if on cue with a particularly sharp clap of thunder, Kermit walked into the room and slid out of his soaked trenchcoat. He smiled as he grabbed a paper napkin and wiped the water from his face. Jennifer forced herself to return the attempt at comfort by smiling back.

"Good," Savannah shouted, thrusting both pairs of small shoes into Kermit's hands, "you're here. Make these children wear their shoes."

Crouching down before the defiant ones, Kermit put on his hardest expression. With a voice rumbling low in his throat, he said, "Wear the shoes. Now." He tossed all four shoes to the ground.

After a brief standoff, Kat and KC rumbled back, "No shoes," and sat down on the floor with arms folded and expressions duplicated.

Kermit glared down at both small faces for several seconds only to have both erupt into laughter. Returning to his feet, Kermit looked at the other adults and shook his head. "So much for intimidation." Accepting a towel from his wife, Kermit sat down to finish wringing himself dry. "Really, it isn't such a bad day. Could blow over any second."

Jennifer kept her eyes closed and said, "Yeah, and that ark outside the window is just a coincidence?" Peter's hands were kneading her shoulders, easing his calm into her body. "How can you be like this, Peter? This day is a complete mess. Maybe we should try again another day, a day when there's no natural disaster."

Those gentle hands tightened around her, lifting her to her feet. Jennifer let herself be turned in his arms. The giving over of control to him happened easily now. His expression greeted her with warmth, a loving amusement that sapped away her tension. For a few moments, she simply stood there a looked at him. This beautiful man was going to be her husband, if they didn't drown first.

Before he spoke, Peter held her face with one hand, lightly tracing her features with his thumb. When he did speak, his voice was quiet and loving, filled with a sincerity that belied any doubts. "When I was a boy at the temple, I remember asking my father how the Shaolin knew when they had found the truth. If that was what I was supposed to be seeking, I wanted to be sure I would know when I found it."

"Didn't want to keep on going if you'd already gotten there, right?" Jennifer said, kissing the hand on her cheek. The image of Peter as a small boy made her smile.

"You know me, didn't want to waste any valuable time," Peter said, leaning his hip on the arm of the sofa. "My father said that the truth was like the sun, too bright to look at without being blinded. He said that I would see the truth as I saw the sun. I would feel its warmth, see its reflection, know it was there by what it touched around me.

"That's what you and KC are to me. The truth. Every time I look in your eyes, I see the one true thing that I've looked for all my life. When I touch our son, I feel the love I allowed my struggles to steal from me for so long. We are the truth. No rain or detail gone wrong can change the fact that we belong together."

Everything in the room seemed to fade away as Jennifer stared at the man in front of her. Peter Caine. Former cop. Present priest. Husband-to-be. All the choices she had made up until now meant nothing. This was the right choice. "Well," she said, easing closer to brush his lips with her own, "I suppose I have to marry you after such a lovely speech." Kissing her back quickly, he said, "Yes, you do."

Pulling away from her, Peter turned his attention to the children, who had been happily sucking mints and ignoring the evil shoes on the floor. Dropping to his son's level, Peter sat on the floor, stretching out his legs. The little boy looked at him cautiously, seeming to brace for another battle.

"KC," Peter said, pointing toward the scattered pile of shoes, "you don't want to wear the shoes?"

Once again came the mantra. "No, no, no."

Peter scanned the adults in the room, who were staring at him and hoping for his success in the face of their failure. With one quick grin toward Jennifer, he grabbed his own shoes and yanked them off, tossing them on top of the other two pair. "Fine. I won't either." He peeled off his socks as the children watched in stunned silence. Looking back to Jennifer, he said, "How 'bout it, Mommy?"

Rain didn't matter. Details didn't matter. They were going to be married and no toddler tantrum or Mother Nature could stop it. Jennifer let go and fell into her life. Pulling off her damaged heels, she quickly tossed them into the growing pile of footwear. "Let's do it."

Kat ran to her mother, flouncing around in the freedom of her naked feet, and pointed to her stiff, leather pumps. "Come on, Mama. Take 'em off."

Rolling her eyes in defeat, Savannah lifted one foot at a time and dumped her shoes to the floor. "Fine. I give in."

With the wedding party in agreement, save one, all eyes turned toward Kermit. He rose slowly from his chair, straightening his jacket. "No," he said, pushing his shades more firmly into place.

Peter stood and lifted his son into his arms. Taking Jennifer by the hand, he said, "You heard your mother kid. Let's find Lo Si and make an honest woman out of her."

As the storm raged on, they went in search of a wedding.

******

Kermit sat on the edge of the party, watching from behind his shades. The rain had conveniently stopped after the ceremony and the reception spilled out of the house on to the Blaisdell's patio. Everyone at the 101st and every citizen in Chinatown seemed to be drifting in and out of party. So many unfamiliar faces were making Kermit's senses buzz. Given the identity of the groom, Kermit wouldn't take any chances.

"I think you can relax, Kermit," Savannah said, handing her husband a piece of wedding cake. "Nothing blown up. Nobody kidnapped. No boogie men arrived bearing gifts." She sat down beside him. "Chill out."

"I don't chill out."

"Sorry, forgot." Savannah stole a bite of his cake and discreetly ran her barefoot up the back of his leg. "The wedding was nice in spite of the rain, wasn't it? Glad a little bad weather didn't poison their special day."

He smiled briefly and looked down at her still bare foot. "The bare feet were a bit Haight-Ashbury for me but I'm happy for them." Gently picking up his wife's hand, he kissed it and held on to her.

"Oh, look," Savannah pointed toward the house where Jennifer stood in front of a group of single women, "she's about to throw the bouquet."

Jennifer turned her back to the women and hoisted the knotted bunch of flowers three times before sailing them upward. The bouquet flew through the heavy wet air, just missing the crowd of women and their struggling arms. White roses hung briefly overhead, before dropping into KC's clumsy toddler hands. For a moment, the little boy stood there, not knowing what to do. All the adults were laughing and his cheeks burned a bright red from the attention. In an attempt to extricate himself from the spotlight, KC tossed the flowers to the closest pair of hands. Kat grabbed the flowers and began jumping up and down for joy.

"Isn't that cutest thing?" Savannah said, not noticing that Kermit was already on his feet and moving. "Kermit?"

He walked directly to his daughter, plucked the flowers from her hands, and handed them back to KC. Patting the boy on the head and lifting Kat up into his arms, Kermit looked back at his wife and said, "No, it isn't."

KC began to dismantle the bouquet as Kermit walked toward the cake with his daughter. Kissing her on the forehead, Kermit said, "You wouldn't do that to me, would you kid?"

"Do what, Daddy?" she asked, holding on around his neck.

"Never mind."

The End

Next Story: Payback

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