Natalie arrived at the attorney's office after the building had closed. He nervously let her in and offered her a seat. She was a tall, lean woman with dark hair and penitrating eyes. Her manner was intense and dangerous. A perfect associate for Ericson.
She detailed the schedule of events to come over the course of the next few weeks. This mission would spare no expense. The ultimate goal would be retribution. Swift and brutal. Her favorite.

The arrangements were complete. Money could truely buy anthing. She would fill up the holes left in her soul with Griffin's brains. All over his living room floor.

******

Monday mornings were usually less than energetic at the 101st. This one wasn't any different, except for Kermit. He had spent the weekend at his sister's house visiting her and the kids. Marilyn had commented that she would have to meet this "miraculous Savannah creature" soon. Funny, he hadn't even realized that he had mentioned her name every five minutes.

He had come in early and was watching when Savannah arrived. She rushed in, at the last minute as usual, and came straight to his office.

"Mornin'," she said happily. "Did you have a good weekend?" She was glad to see him. Really glad. She hadn't known how much she had missed him until she came face to face with those glasses.

"Yes. And you?" he asked. Kermit was happier to see her than he cared to admit just yet.

"Had a great time. Mary Margaret and I went to the movies. Oh, and I met Peter's father. A very nice man. Very serene. Nothing like Peter, that's for sure. We discussed Southern culture. Evidently, he spent some time in Memphis. I think Mary Margaret has a thing for him but she just won't talk about it. Think I'll have to do a little meddlin' there...." She stopped, realizing that her mouth had shifted into high gear.

"Well, I know you're busy. See ya' later," and she turned to leave.

Alright, boy, Kermit thought. It's time.

"Wait." Kermit began. "Would you like to go to dinner tonight?" He waited for her response.

She rewarded him with those dimples and a twinkle in her eyes. Finally, she thought. "I would love to, Kermit."

"Pick you up at 8:00," Kermit said, obviously relieved.

"Ok, see ya' tonight then. Ba-bye." With that, Savannah left and spent the rest of the day trying desperately to concentrate on work. Unsuccessfully.

******

Kermit arrived at Savannah's house a few minutes early and rang the bell.

"Come on in. The door's open," she called. He entered to find her walking around the house with the phone to her ear.

She was evidently talking to her mother, "Yes, Mama, I will. I've gotta' go. My date's here." She winked at Kermit.

"Yes, Mama, I met him at work. He's a detective. No, Mama he's not. Most crazed maniacs don't arrive at a girl's house carrying flowers. Call you tomorrow. Love you. Bye."

Savannah hung up and greeted Kermit with a smile.

"Your Mama not sure you can pick your dates?" he said, handing her the flowers.

"They're just lovely," she said, as she put the flowers in a vase. "No. She doesn't have a great deal of confidence in any of my choices, really. She calls once a week to hand me my ticket for the 'guilt train'. She's the conductor. My Daddy's the engineer." Savannah said, turning her attention to her handsome date. "Nice tie."

"Glad you like it. You look spectacular."

And she did. Savannah was wearing a bright blue dress that fell almost to her ankles. Her arms were bare and her outfit showed off her figure to its best advantage. That blonde hair was twisted on the back of her head with a few curls trailing down her forehead.
Kermit stopped staring at her and they left for the restaurant.

On the way inside, Savannah commented, "So this is the famous Andre's. Maybe we'll see Peter Caine and one of his snitches."

They talked for what seemed like hours. Kermit, ever cautious about revealing information, talked about Marilyn and her children. About his computer work and some unusual cases he was working on. He also told her that he enjoyed opera, something only Marilyn knew.

"I would have thought you were a 'bluesman', Kermit," Savannah teased. She liked the blues. Being from Memphis, she told him, "the first thing a kid has to drink is a bottle of Muddy Waters."

"When I was a teenager, nine times out of ten when I got grounded it was for sneaking out to Beall Street with my friends," she said.

Kermit told her that he might be interested in trying something different Oh yeah, he thought. Savannah explained that opera and the blues had alot in common with one major difference. In opera, everybody dies in the end. In the blues, you "get to go on suffering forever while being extremely cool." She had a great recording of B.B. King and Albert Collins doing "Stormy Monday" that she knew he'd like. He might even like Bonnie Raitt, her favorite. They could trade. She wanted to try opera and he could learn the blues.

Kermit loved the sound of her voice. He got her to talk about her family a little. Evidently, they weren't too happy with her decision to move so far away from home. When she didn't join her father's accounting firm, marry a Southern gentleman, and join the Junior League, she became the "black sheep" of the family.

"My folks are good people, really, but they are so hung up on how things look. Live in the right house. Go to the right parties. Don't make a scandal by doing anything different," she explained. "I'm just not that uptight. I always picked my friends because I liked them and I needed a better reason to do something a certain way than 'that's just the way it's done.'"

She had moved to get out from under the microscope. Something Kermit could identify with. "Of course, they still 'dog' me long distance," Savannah said.

After dinner, they decided to take a walk. Out in the moonlight, Kermit finally held her hand. Savannah said that she would make dinner next time and he could try her very own secret-recipe-Memphis-style barbeque. Kermit said, "Only if you share the secret ingredient?"

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," she answered, trying not to laugh.

Suddenly, Kermit remembered the package he had in his pocket. He handed it to her and said, "Happy birthday."

Savannah was speechless. No one here knew it was her birthday. She hadn't told anyone and was a little lonely because there was no one to remember. "How did you know?" she asked.

"I get paid to know things that nobody else knows," Kermit answered. He was more than satisfied with the results of his little surprise.

Savannah opened the box and found a small, silver magnolia. "I noticed you wore a charm bracelet and thought this might remind you of home."

She was touched. Kermit had also noticed that she felt a bit homesick. "This is very special. And so are you." she said, squeezing his hand.

They decided to stop by Chandler's for a drink. The couple attracted a great deal of attention when they walked in. Kermit went to the bar to order and Savannah stopped to talk to Mary Margaret and Peter at a table in the corner.

T.J. was playing the piano. He had been going through a "Harry Conick, Jr. phase" according to Peter. There were a few couples on a tiny dance floor beside the detective turned performer. T.J. began singing "Since I Fell for You" and the couples continued dancing.

Kermit joined Savannah at the table. He sat down the drinks and held out his hand to her. Without a word, she took his hand and Kermit lead her to the dance floor. People were staring. Amazed.

As they reached their destination, he ran his hand around her back and they began to dance. She was easy to lead. As if they had danced together a hundred times. Kermit couldn't remember the last time he had wanted to dance with someone.

Savannah looked up at him and said, "People are going to talk."

Kermit looked down at her through those dark glasses and said, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn."

She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, "I knew one day you'd have to say that."

Peter Caine was staring at Kermit and Savannah as they danced. So was everyone else in the bar. Shocked would have been a mild word for the response. He turned to Mary Margaret and asked, "Skalany, what is that?"

Mary Margaret replied, "That, my clueless friend, is the moon and the tide."

"Which one is which," said Peter.

"I don't think they know," she answered.

******

Coffee. That's what he needed. Coffee and sunglasses and a closed door. The entire precinct seemed to be staring at the detective. Furtively looking away with stupid expressions on their faces. Kermit blocked out Peter Caine's chafing know-it-all grin and walked past him to the coffee. His hand touched the cup and another touched his.

"Mornin', Green Man." She brushed his hand. He tried not to feel it. "You're a good influence. I'm actually on time." Savannah practically beamed up at the man. On time was an understatement. Sleep had taken a vacation. She'd been up and dressed at five a.m. Changing outfits five times before settling on a soft white dress and heels. Couldn't wait to get there. To him.

"Glad to hear I'm contributing to the productivity of the department." Pulling his hand away, he quirked a polite grin and turned to go back to his hiding place.

The slam of politeness stung. Those hours of longing to hear his warm tones rewarded with hurt. A few hours ago the doors had been open. Now, they slammed tight with flapping window blinds and arm's length boundaries established. "I had a good time..." she whispered behind his retreat then sank back into the privacy of her own office.

Once locked away, Kermit silently blessed Paul Blaisdell for cramming his private office down the city's throat. What had he been thinking? Digging his charm out of mothballs. Walking in the park. Dancing. Christ, have you lost your mind? Normalcy had called and he'd answered. For a few hours he was just a man. Any man with a soft, beautiful woman on his arm.

Savannah. She wasn't normal. Funny and exquisite and warm and loving. Not average or everyday. He took perverse pleasure in watching the polite indifference she showed the parade of men who sought her attention in the precinct. Ladylike smiles. Polite refusals. But not to him. His request had been met with surrender. Open arms. A shy smile that made his stomach knot. His senses screamed for one more moment in her presence. One more syllable of that melodic accent. She liked to talk and he like to listen and listen he did.

With the blink of an eye, the merc took over. STOP! He yelled to that surrender. Fantasy bumped into reality and shattered. Kermit Griffin was blood and anger and murder for hire. Destruction couched in an illusion of righteousness. A mad dog briefly leashed by a badge. Come to close and risk a bite. He began to remember who he was. He'd forgotten last night. Moonlight and bright green eyes gave him amnesia. Now, he remembered. Just in time.

SLAM!

Offices had their advantages. Nice places to hide from prying eyes and crappy days. Savannah dropped into her chair after her third unnecessary stroll through the precinct.

"Hi, Mary Margaret." There he is. "Nice shirt, Peter. Found your iron?" Look at me, please. "Be glad to, Captain. Just send him to my office." Why won't you look at me?

No flirt. No peek over green lenses. No nothing. Savannah rewound and replayed their date over and over finding no clues to the source of his deep freeze. It hurt so much more than it should. She barely knew him and it shouldn't matter one way or another. But it did. She didn't know him. She felt him.

Savannah gave her head a sound shake. Life was marching on over her hurt feelings. *Who cares? Let him be like that. See if I give a damn.* She gave herself the "girlfriend pep talk speech" and focused on the paper work waving hello from her desk.

"Hanging out with Caine is teaching you patience." Jody perched on Skalany 's desk and watched her eyes dart between Kermit and Savannah's closed doors. News of the famous date had spread through out the precinct. Skalany had basked in her sucess last night at Chandler's. That ended this morning with the obvious tension emminating from the ex-mercenary's lair.

"I'm waiting for an opening." The woman had been more than patient. Something was brewing but there were no explanations forthcoming from the couple she'd been grooming for their first plunge into dating. Savannah had ignored her questions with polite excuses about how busy she was. She knew better than to knock on Kermit's door.

Then the opening for intervention came. "Peter!" Skalany grabbed his attention and motioned him over. "Go ask him what happened."

"You must be outta' your mind, Skalany. Ask her and leave me out of it." Peter lanked over to his desk to collect his jacket and leave the snooping to those more qualified than himself.

At that precise moment, the timing of the cosmos asserted itself. Kermit had fought the urge for more caffeine till the last. Venturing out into the sea of eyes, he haughtily ignored them. Ignored everything except a sudden bright cascade of laughter.

All eyes in the room focused on Savannah's now open office door. A young man in his early thirties moved confidently beside Savannah as they left her office. He was mildly attractive. Pleasant and obviously attentive, as he offered his arm in escort. Savannah was talking and walking and ignoring the audience.

Kermit stood rooted to the spot. Empty coffee cup choked in his fingers. He watched them disappear out into the street. The cup started to crumble.

"Haven't seen you all day, man," Peter said, attempting to offer a distraction. The Griffin poker face actually twitched. "Why don't you come with me to the D.A.'s office and we'll go to lunch. I owe you for the serial number research on the Lefton case. Kermit? Kermit?"

"Yes, you owe me. Let's go." Kermit absently handed the cup to Jody as he passed.

Following the slight trail of perfume where Savannah had just walked. Peter nodded to the ladies and walked double time to keep up with the driven man in black leading the way. They stepped into the parking lot in time to see Savannah and the man drive away. Peter Caine didn't want to imagine the danger the poor unsuspecting suitor courted in the guise of and ex-mercenary.

"I know you're not much on conversation Kermit, but there's always the weather, a ball game, the Middle East." Peter had been soaking up Griffin silence to and from the D.A.'s office. He knew the man well enough by now to see the turmoil under his mask. The entire precinct had gotten a view of Kermit and Savannah's date last night. Something had gone wrong. Neither member of the famous dancing couple was talking.

"You can see the weather for yourself. I haven't been interested in pointless battles for balls in parks since I was a boy and as to the Middle East....been there, done that." Kermit snapped his response and turned back to the window. He shouldn't care. The other man reeked of Brook's Brothers and Rolex. Perfect and safe. Closer to her age and certainly no killer.

"Suit yourself, but why don't you just tell me what happened last night?" Winking lasciviously, Peter kidded the tense detective, "She get a *headache* and send you home?"

Before he could fire off a snide reply, Kermit Griffin saw the car that had carried away the 101st's accountant. *Beemer, how boring.* It was parked in front of Susie's Place, a trendy new restaurant. "Stop here!" he shouted, with far more volume than he intended.

"You're kidding? Susie's Place? White linen and four different forks?" Even in his confusion, Peter knew a command when he heard one. "Okay, but when you call in a favor, you don't fool around, do ya'? Hope they take Visa." The Stealth slipped into the parking lot and the two detectives found their way into the soft pastels of the restaurant.

Upon entering, Detective Griffin scanned the patrons for one golden blonde head. He found it and involuntarily smiled. The man was talking. Boldly waving his hands in emphasis of some story. Savannah sat quietly listening. Tracing her water glass with one finger. Last night, she had chattered happily during dinner. Eyes glittering with excitement as they talked and laughed and learned about each other. This quiet attentiveness was out of character.

"Now I get it." Peter found the focus of Kermit's radar. This could be interesting.....or ugly. Slapping him on the back, Peter pushed his friend to follow the hostess to a table on the opposite side of the room. "She doesn't seem to be having a good time, does she?" They sat down and ordered. Then waited in silence once again.

Kermit Griffin hid his glare well behind a curtain of green shades. Watching every move the man made and ignoring Peter Caine's vain attempts at conversation. The man talked and talked, obviously enamored of his own voice. Not concerned with interaction. Kermit despised blaring egos like his.

Savannah began to yawn and quickly brought up her glass to stifle it. Turning her head in a desperate search for something to keep her awake, she found a familiar profile. She caught the upturned corner of his mouth and winked in response. *You shouldn't do that!* she chided herself. Not after the way she'd been ignored this morning. The butterflies geared up again and drowned out the voice.

"Savannah?" The man had paused briefly to notice that her mind had wandered away from his spellbinding wit.

"Oh! I'm sorry. Just noticing the decor. This is such a lovely place. You were sayin'?" Savannah turned back to her lunch date. Feigning interest, she resisted the urge to hold her eyelids open with her fingers. Still feeling the dark eyes from across the room.

The tension was beginning to get to the younger detective. Surprised by Kermit's inaction, Peter jumped into the meddling pot with both feet. "If you don't do something, the poor woman may be unconscious before dessert."

The longer he watched her, the lower his resistance fell. Will gave way to feeling. A rarity in his life. The way she held her glass. Delicate fingers that he could still feel in his hand. The welcoming curve of her cheek that he'd touched and released. The way those ripe pink lips sipped from her glass. Lips he'd moved close to under the glow of her porch light then avoided and left. He'd called it being a gentleman. The truth was something entirely different.

"Kid, I'm way ahead of you." Kermit got up and walked quickly across the room to the one-sided conversation. Once he reached their table, he spoke with urgency. "Miss March, I'm so glad I found you."

Savannah started slightly, confused at his formality. "Dave, this is Detective Kermit Griffin from the precinct." Dave reached out his hand only to have it shake air.

Kermit continued his spiel, "Miss March, there is an accounting emergency at the precinct that requires your immediate attention." Resting his hands on the table, he leaned slightly toward her for emphasis.

"Accounting emergency?" questioned Dave, as wrinkles of confusion lined his slightly tanned brow.

"Yes, a general ledger crash, Miss March. Debits and credits out of balance. You're the only one who can repair the damage." The crisis was related with an intensity commensurate of national security issues. Holding out his hand, he finished his lines, "I'm here to take you back to the office."

Gazing up at him in joyous relief at her rescue, Savannah swallowed her threatening laughter and replied with equal enthusiasm. "Oh, thank you Detective. We'll have to leave immediately." She gathered her purse and rose gracefully to stand beside her benefactor.

"Wait, Savannah," Dave struggled to salvage his lunch plans. "I'll drive you back."

With a firm, perhaps vice-like, grip on the man's shoulder, Kermit held him in his chair. "That's what I'm here for, sonny boy. Keep your seat."

Trying to spare Dave's feelings and person, Savannah apologized, "So sorry Dave. Duty calls. Lunch was lovely. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Dave called behind them. "Can I call you som--" But it was too late. They were all ready out the door well past his feeble attempts to schedule another date.

Savannah held on to her composure until they reached the safety of the parking lot. Dissolving into giggles, she hooted, "Accounting emergency??!! Griffin you ARE a knight in shining armor!" Before she thought to stop herself, she threw her arms around him in gratitude.

At first, he yielded to her embrace. Brushing her curls with his chin and breathing in the smells of springtime from her. Then, he forced himself to stiffen. Slightly.

Feeling the resistance, she let go. Looking up into her own reflection in his shades, Savannah said quietly, "Thank you for coming to my rescue. Dave thinks he's fascinatin'. He's wrong. Thought I'd doze off any minute." She politely straightened his lapel and leaned back on Peter's car.

"Maybe you should screen your dates a little more carefully for personality." The comment was delivered with a smile but the tone was flat. Little drops of hurt sprinkled between the words.

Savannah just stared blankly for a moment. Realization and humor flooded her expression. "You thought that Dave and I were...we were...me and THAT bore were on a date??!!" Now, she was laughing uncontrollably as the detective stood watching. "Oh puuuuhleeezzz, Kermit! Me and Mr. Beemer? Oh God! If I'd heard about his sales bonus one more time I would have lost that very bland lunch I just ate."

"Sales bonus?" Kermit couldn't help but smile as she giggled and shook her head.

Patting his arm playfully, she explained, "Dave Grayson is a sales rep with M & W Office Supplies. He was driving Simms nuts trying to sell to the precinct and I volunteered to listen to him run numbers and give his pitch. He asked me to lunch." The volume of her smile decreased. "Didn't want to lie and say I had plans...when I didn't."

Satisfaction welled up inside the austere man. He'd misunderstood. He was glad. Thrilled, even. It was jealousy that he'd felt and he began to let himself accept that fact. He couldn't deny it.

"No, you wouldn't lie, would you?" He gently lifted her hand with one finger.

Her heart pounded with that one touch. *How can he do that? One touch and I can't breath.* Savannah looked at him with her deep green eyes and waded into the uncomfortable territory. "No, I wouldn't. Do you think you could be honest with me now?"

"Honesty and me are distant relations, but I'll try."

Taking in a deep breath and being ravenously unsure about wanting to hear the truth, she asked, "Did I do something wrong last night? Something to hurt your feelings? If I did, it was accidental and--"

"How could you think you did something wrong, Scarlett?" She was perfect. He was damaged. Couldn't she see this by now?

"Well, " she answered, with a sad tone to her voice, "I thought you...we were having such a good time."

"I did."

"Dinner and walking in the park was perfect. I don't know when I've ever...I mean..." Savannah fumbled for the way to express her depth of feeling without smothering the man holding her hand.

"Me, too."

She reached out and took his other hand. Gently. As if she were afraid he would flinch or pull away. He didn't. "And when we danced, it felt as if we fit together. Naturally. Like we were supposed to be there."

Savannah stepped closer. Kermit stroked his thumb tenderly over the back of her hand. "But when you took me home you practically shook my hand and left. I don't understand what I did to push you away."

"It's not you. It's me." The trite reply even made him cringe. Savannah groaned in disgust. He imagined that she'd heard that one before. "Wait...back up. What I mean is, I didn't want to push. This *thing* that's happening between us might not be a good idea for you, Scarlettt. You don't know the kind of man I am."

He was afraid. It was crystal clear to Savannah March as she held his hand and listened to the deep voice she had grown so attached to over the past few weeks. This strong sometimes arogantly rude individual was afraid of his own feelings. Feelings that must be strong if they had punched a hole through his control. Savannah hadn't been wrong after all.

For a moment, she was afraid that he could actually hear her heart rumbling with joy at these revelations. Looking down at the hands holding hers, she drawled sweetly with understanding, "Well, sugar. Let's just assume for a moment that I am smart enough to know a kind, wonderful heart when I see one. Do YOU want this *thing* to happen?"

*Say it, you coward!* Kermit Griffin had been at crossroads before on his journey. The safe thing would be to kiss her good-bye. Risk called to him in the form of this petite joyous woman. Youth and life radiated from her. More seductive than any desire he had ever faced. He stared down into those beckoning eyes and that soft mouth and gave way.

"I don't know where this is going, but I can't stay away." He pulled her into a warm and unrestrained embrace. Feeling her melt into his chest. "I think you must be insane, but I want to keep walking with you. Wherever this leads us."

Standing on tiptoes, Savannah tried not to tremble as she pulled off his portable shield of dark green. "With the question of my sanity aside, would it be too forward of me to ask for the goodnight kiss you owe me?"

"Quite forward, Miss Scarlettt."

"Pay up, Griffin," she whispered, closing her eyes to welcome him.

"Yes, ma'am...." he moaned and sped down the dangerous course to which he'd committed himself. Moving his hands to caress her delicately blushed cheeks, Kermit pulled her mouth to his. Tenderly resting his lips on her. Drinking in the sweet taste of her. He could feel her smile against his mouth. Feel her heart pulsing in time with his.

The power that bled from his arms took her breath. The contradictions of the dark persona this man presented to the world and the tender sensuality he shared with her, excited her in a way she'd never known before. His kiss was tentative and almost shy. A request that she answered with parted lips as invitation. Tongues and time and breathe mingled. Doubts were put to rest and pretension banished. They held each other in a cloak of desire and discovery. Making promises with a lingering kiss that needed no words.

Peter Caine rounded the corner of the building. Surely, he'd given them enough time to work out whatever was going on between them. Then, he caught sight of the oblivious couple, necking in broad daylight. "Well," he muttered to himself and politely turning on his heel, "suppose I have time for dessert." Warm with his friend's good fortune, he returned to the restaurant and left them to their dance. Chuckling to himself as he made plans to torture Skalany before he shared his information.

******

The attorney arrived at under the guise of a pretrial conference. The mission was set to begin in moments. He was relieved that his association with Ericson would be complete. His greed had overwhelmed his survival instincts. Once entangled with this animal, there was no escape. The sooner Ericson was free, the sooner he would be also. The slaughter to follow was of no concern to him. Every man for himself, he thought.

The guards returned Ericson to his cell after his daily one hour of exercise to join his attorney then left them to their pretense of legal maneuvering.

"Well," Ericson announced, "let me have a look at your latest legal genius."

He took a stack of papers from the attorney's hand. He peeled a small patch from the corner of one page and applied it to his forearm. Then, he waited.

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