Kermit was running, drenched with panic. How he got away from those ghosts he wasn't sure, but he was in front, and he intended to stay there. He looked across the barren terrain for a haven and found none. Loudly cursing to himself for such a poor choice of location--as if he had been the one who picked it--he continued pumping his legs and scouring the rocks…rocks? yes, rocks, for a cave. No, they weren't there before; but maybe there's a hiding place among them.

He spotted what looked like an opening, just large enough for him. Hoping it was deep enough, he dived for it. That is, he tried to dive for it, but he was tripped. Tripped? a foot, someone's foot, had, who's foot? caught his.

He fell, hard, then jumped up to try for the cave again. He needed to hide in that cave. The sight of the figure in front of him nearly knocked him on his back. "Paul, get out of my way! They'll be here in a minute; I've got to hide."

"Why did you call me 'Paul'?" said the shade in front of him, as the face and body morphed from Paul to Peter to Kwai Chang, to Frank, to Karen, to others within that small group he held in deep respect.

Kermit dusted himself off, saying, "Well, I guess I expected Paul to show up. I hear he's been seen a lot recently. Now, if you don't mind; whoever you decide to be, I was heading for that cave, and I think I'll continue what I was doing before you interrupted me." He accepted the metamorphosing being as he had accepted demons and Shambala Masters.

The voice that responded did not belong to any of the people he had just seen. It took him a while to recognize it as his own voice, clear and unemotional, finally. "That cave has no exit. Do you really intend to hide in there, permanently?"

Two minutes ago, he would have answered that he would gladly lock himself away permanently, rather than deal with the emotions from his past again. Now he could tell that the host of historical images and emotions were no longer trying to overrun him. The mob that had been pursuing him was milling around some distance from him, no longer a threat. Perhaps he was safe enough outside the cave.

Perhaps not. Damn! They're not moving this way again. As soon as he had looked in that direction, the mob started moving towards him again, although not as quickly as they had pursued him before. He tried to run, but as soon as he had selected a direction, that all-people-in-one figure was there, blocking him.

Fear was starting to build within him again, overlaying the frustration from the inability to run, when he heard another voice, soft, warm, caring. And Karen was there, standing in front of him, pulling him into her arms, whispering to him, "Oh, Kermit, what did she do to you? Come back, please come back to me. You are safe now, Kermit."

And he was whispering back, "Hold me tight; I was so afraid; please don't let me go."

And they stood there just holding each other, tightly. He was enjoying her sweet perfume, the feel of her hair against his cheek….

And he woke up, saying still, "Hold me, love," and saw…Lo Si.

His head dropped back on the pillow, "I thought you experimented with herb tea. When did you start playing with perfumes?"

"The lovely lady was sitting with you until you started to wake. I thought it possible that you would not want her here to hear your first words."

"Damn considerate of you. You may leave now; I'm fine. Just tell the others I'll be down in a few minutes." He had been running a mental check on himself since he had opened his eyes. Physically, he felt fine; he could detect no lasting effects of either drug, on his body at least. He wasn't at all sure about residual effects on his mind.

The Ancient shook his finger at him, laughing, "I too see the tree outside the window. You will not disappear so easily." His tone became parental. "Besides, your friends are anxious to see that you are well."

"I'll let you have that privilege. I need to find out if strange words are going to pop out of my mouth each time some strange 'emotion' creeps into a perfectly normal exchange. Like, "'Oh, I'm sorry; did that hurt?' when I shoot somebody. Or, --"

"Or, 'Hold me, love', when you awake from a dream? Kwai Chang did tell me the name of the drug you received. I know of this drug. It is based on an old Chinese recipe. If she had not given you the antidote, I would have. These odd effects you are experiencing will disappear gradually."

"Oh great! Just how do you define 'gradually'"? Kermit was now walking about the room, testing his leg muscles and flexing his arms. He had been too still for too long. He was also trying to judge the best way to get past this Shaolin priest, so he could use the window and tree to make his exit.

Lo Si had moved over to block Kermit. "Kermit, I have often wondered, what is it that makes you such a good mercenary?"

That stopped the man cold. He had expected an appeal to friendship, or to police honor, or some such crap; not an off-the-wall question like this. Since he was not going anywhere yet, he might as well indulge the old man. So, after a few seconds of deep thought, he responded, making his phrases short and snappy. "I've got a quick mind, good reflexes, and don't mind killing people. Any more questions like that? Good, I want to leave."

Lo Si shook his head. "There is more to you than that, my dear friend. More than most, you have the ability to see the threads of a pattern where others do not. You have been able to see where you should be, to provide assistance. You have survived many times because you knew when the pattern was breaking and removed yourself from that path."

Kermit had just spent some two hours too long exposing himself to an enemy, hating every moment of it. He appreciated equally this analysis of his abilities. Too many possible responses came to mind, none of them appropriate. He just looked back at the Ancient.

"Kermit, would you be so kind as to indulge this poor old man's curiosity, and relate what happened when you went to that department store?"

Figuring he might as well get some practice in, before reporting to his captain and everyone else who would want to know, Kermit stood straighter, and began narrating in his flat, mock-disinterested tone. "The short story is: we discovered where Jeff Stiles had been held, so we went there. We were taken captive by Marne Pasteur. She told me that we'd both been given a curare derivative, to immobilize us. I was given a special version of some truth serum-propofol, I believe she said. She told me that Jeff Stiles and Terri Cooper had hired her partner to kidnap Paul Blaisdell. The partner killed Paul, by accident, so Jeff Stiles killed her. So Pasteur killed him. She tried to lure Terri Cooper there, to kill her, too. We got there first. Terri must have shown her father the note Pasteur sent her; they went there with Bart Stiles to kill the woman who'd killed Jeff. End of story."

The old man didn't move, but he tilted his head and, with a smile, looked up at the almost-desperate man looming over him and said, "I have heard it takes a great actor to be a good mercenary."

Griffin thought to himself, No wonder the old man has lived so long; he's never where you expect him to be! Out loud, he laughed. Then, "Never thought of it that way. But you're right. What is your point?"

Kermit was still a student, waiting to be taught; Lo Si was still in teacher mode. "My friend, did you really believe that Ms Cooper and the younger Mr. Stiles were smart enough to think of this themselves? When Ms Pasteur told you she had expected Terri Cooper, did you not see the young woman and the slayings as but one part of a larger scheme?"

The detective's mind was quick, and he realized, as the other was talking, that that had bothered him at the time. He had just been too busy to think about it. But the pieces fell into place now, along with the suggestion that Lo Si was hinting at.

His attention now focused back on the case, he began to pace as he talked. "Terri Cooper and Jeff Stiles didn't think of this caper; their fathers did--from jail. Those two kids wouldn't have known how to find or hire kidnappers or assassins. So we got to Pasteur before Terri did because she was waiting for her father to join her. We did know that young Stiles was to be buried today, but didn't think much about it. The two men, father and godfather, must have gotten permission to attend the funeral, and somehow got away from their guards."

He looked back at Lo Si, a grin finally beginning to show. "So our story is, I knew the family group was going to show, as soon as the two fathers could 'get away'. So I had to keep Pasteur 'occupied' until they came, so we could capture them all together. And my babbling was just a ruse? That fits!" He had swung back into detective mode as the pieces fell into place in his mind; his pacing had already carried him out of the bedroom and onto the stairs. He didn't even realize that Lo Si had stopped blocking him when the mental light had come on. He just knew he needed to talk to Peter.

As he reached the first floor, the delightful scent of food reached the now-rapidly-moving detective and stopped his forward motion. It occurred to him that he hadn't thanked Carolyn for calling for back-up. He started to swing into the kitchen, and realized the cook was not Carolyn-it was Annie.

As he backed up to leave, her voice grabbed him. "Don't you dare walk out of here, Kermit Griffin. You come over here and give me a hug!" As he pulled her into a bear hug, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "That's for saving Kelly and me. I'm sorry I couldn't thank you sooner. When Lo Si picked me to bring me back, just a little while ago, he told me it was finally over."

She reached up and touched the tears flowing from his eyes. "Oh Kermit, I'm so glad you can cry for him. We will both miss him so terribly." She felt the heat of embarrassment in his cheeks and continued. "Paul and I had noticed over the last couple of years, after you had joined him in the department, how much you had grown."

He would have pulled away but she was holding him too tightly and he would die rather than hurt her. She waited for him to speak, knowing he would, almost realizing the effort it cost him. He could not tell her the tears were for himself as much as for her husband, his friend. When he was sure he knew what he would say, he opened his mouth. "I have been this height since I was 18. Perhaps you have shrunk?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Dear Kermit! You'd finally started to let us into your heart and I was really afraid Paul's death would close you up again. I'm glad that didn't happen. Now, I can hear Carolyn coming to carry food out. You let me do the talking!" For all her words, she knew how uncomfortable Kermit still was on the subject of emotions, his emotions especially. Too, Master Lo Si had briefed her on the ex-mercenary's ordeal earlier that afternoon.

As Carolyn was walking into the kitchen, Annie was handing Kermit a wet paper towel saying, "Here, wipe that flour off your face! Somebody might think I was letting you cook in here. That's better; now scoot. Why don't you tell everyone to take their places in the dining room. Carolyn, is the table all ready?"

Carolyn laughed at the idea of Annie letting anyone else cook when she was making a meal, assured her step-mother that the dining room was ready, and grabbed the water pitchers. When Kermit, eyes now dry, took them from her, she picked up the wine in its cooler and they left the kitchen together. Carolyn whispered that Annie's presence was supposed to be a surprise for dinner; Kermit nodded his understanding.

As he approached the living room, he realized this was the third time this group had gathered this week: the first time in sorrow, the second in conspiracy, the third, now, in relief. The closing of this case would never be a cause for celebration. Before he walked in, the conversation was quiet, disjointed. When he entered, conversation stopped, to be replaced with an assault of questions directed at him, but he put them off, saying that dinner was ready and that was not polite table conversation.

Before Karen and Frank could come up with excuses to leave, Carolyn made a point of telling them they were expected to stay and headed for the kitchen.

The group settled themselves at the table. Peter stood and asked what he should bring in from the kitchen.

"The pot roast is on the counter; remember the pot holders, Peter." As one, they turned toward the person at the door. It was not Carolyn.

Before she could clear the doorway, Annie was mobbed. She hugged everybody, kissed most of them, and then started issuing orders. "While I sit down, Peter, you get the pot roast, Carolyn, the vegetables; Kelly, pass the salad around. Kermit, will you see to the drinks? Then we will eat; then we will all answer questions. Master Caine, will you bless our meal for us."

People scurried to obey, Caine said a prayer of thanksgiving, and they started to eat.

As they ate, Annie remained the center of attention. She had met so many new people, been involved in so many different activities, in the one short week-it had been like being back at the University. She was almost glowing.

And her friends were not horrified at her lack of tears; they had seen her as Paul's shadow for so long, they had been worried she would curl up and die now that he was gone. They were happy for her.

Dinner was soon over, and it was Kermit's turn to be in the spotlight.

He gave his abbreviated report on the events, and then explained his conclusions and the reasoning that led to them, carefully omitting Lo Si's contributions.

Peter told of his encounter with Terri Cooper during the investigation of Jeff Stiles' murder. Then, "I just realized, Cooper lives across the street from that woman Mary Margaret and I were interviewing Monday morning. She was complaining about strange-looking people, coming and going at all hours--just positive she'd found a drug house. Instead, she was watching Cooper develop her conspiracy. Man, will she be disappointed!" With his concentration on the solution to the puzzle, his mind did not carry him to the events immediately following that interview, the attack on Annie.

Everyone laughed with him, and then Frank interjected his information. He'd talked with the desk sergeant while driving over to this house and learned that Cooper and Stiles, pères, had indeed been given compassionate parole to attend the funeral. The guards had not been expecting trouble, but the men did get away. "At least they didn't get further than the rendezvous with the that woman--Pasteur? They did get their revenge on the boy's killer, but the girl will be in a mental hospital the rest of her life. Both men will recover, but they're in the prison hospital by now."

The basic story had been laid out for everyone. Annie had convinced herself that all had more or less survived the week, and convinced the others that she had also. The single group then mutated into several smaller groups, each discussing a different aspect of the week's activities.

Kermit took Carolyn aside. She was feeling somewhat angry because every time the subject of her work had come up, Kermit had skirted the issue. She had put a lot of time into solving as much of the code as she had, and she did not understand why he did not want to talk about it.

He pointed out to her that the messages and the decoded information had not had anything to do with solving Paul's murder. When she angrily asked if she had wasted her time, he responded, "when you finish the decoding, you will have a list of places your father visited when he left here. It may turn out to be nothing more than a Cook's tour he was hoping to take you on someday. Let's not make anything more of it, okay, Sweetcakes?"

She punched him playfully, saying, "I told you not to call me that! And what about that disk?" But he had already laughed at the punch and had started to move away.

He got far enough to evade her question, but found himself facing her again as Annie had grabbed both of them and pulled them toward her. "I understand there is a new computer in the den. Just what we are going to do with that?"

Carolyn gulped, not sure how to answer her stepmother. She didn't really want to tell her about the email, at least not until she knew more.

Kermit, however, was apparently prepared for the question. "We decided that it was time you entered the computer age. I'm going to add some special software and hardware so you and the computer can talk to each other. I'm sure we can find something out on the Internet that would appeal to you."

Annie stood there with her mouth open, which made both Carolyn and Kermit laugh. It was very difficult to disconcert Annie, and Kermit had just succeeded, in spades.

Kermit next went over to Kwai Chang Caine. "You and I have a lot to discuss, old friend. I distinctly remember a tiny voice telling me to sleep, just after somebody calling himself 'Matthew Caine' told me to wait for a signal and I heard gunshots. As if there wasn't enough of a circus going on in my mind. I would like to know what was your part in all this."

Caine gave a shrug and said, "I will answer as I can."

"How much did Peter tell you?" Kermit had no idea what Peter could have heard, and wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Peter has told Captain Simms he was not aware until he heard the guns fire."

Kermit had the distinct memory of himself and Peter jumping up at the same moment, and then both falling back down, again at the same moment. He had no way of knowing whether the younger man had been awake before that. It was definitely easier to accept his word that he was not.

As Kermit wandered off in the direction of Karen, to assure her he was fine, and perhaps to test himself to see if he really was, Peter came up to his father and put his arm across his father's shoulders. "Is he really okay? That drug really broke him apart. He seems normal now, but it's only been a few hours. Was the antidote enough?"

Before Kwai Chang could answer, Lo Si came up to them and answered for him. "Ah, Peter; I can feel your friend's chi. It was greatly disturbed, but it is almost completely repaired. It was as if the drug broke him into many pieces and the antidote and his resilience put him back together."

Peter looked at the Ancient One in concern, "Is he the same Kermit, then? Did the 'pieces' go back where they belonged?"

This time his father answered, "He is the same man he was. He will find it more difficult to keep his emotions locked up inside, however."

Lo Si spoke up, "He has always prided himself on the ability to make a decision based on what is right, whether it hurts someone or not. That is why he has tried to not let anyone into his heart. He has found out today that he cares that people care for him. This frightens him. He is afraid now that his ability to make decisions is impaired. He will adjust."

The three talked for a while until Frank and Karen prepared to leave.

Then there was discussion about who was going to stay over, who was going to sleep where. Carolyn and Todd decided to stay, as did Peter. Kermit wanted to go home.

The lives of all of them had changed, not just in knowing that Paul was gone, but also in a realization of previously unknown abilities. Closure hurt, the growth had hurt, but the uncertainty had been worse.

The End.

Next Story: Healing

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