Months later, Kermit and Peter were relaxing in their office, a modestly furnished three-room affair. The smaller room, immediately inside the door labeled 'Shaolin Eyes,' held the receptionist's desk. The other two rooms, intended as adjoining offices, opened into the front room. Peter and Kermit shared one office; the other served as nursery as necessary, and as Carolyn's office when her computer skills were needed to supplement Kermit's.

Kermit cleared his throat, and said, "Since we have a little time, I thought you might like to hear where I went when I quit the force."

"You're volunteering information? Kermit Griffin? My suspicious mind tells me there's more to it than that. Give!"

"My sources tell me that a certain friend is swinging by for a visit. Since he's involved, I'd rather you hear the story before he arrives."

"I am all ears."

Kermit began recounting the story. He was almost done when the sound of an almost unfamiliar voice broke into his story.

"It took two days before I realized that Kelly hadn't told me why she was in Ste. Adele and another day before I browbeat her and that doctor enough to get the story. And then she wouldn't tell me very much--said it wasn't her story to tell. I had to wait another four weeks until you came back from your 'Grand Tour'. What a way to treat a friend!"

"Paul!" Peter was already out of his chair and halfway across the office to the door when it occurred to him that his foster father was still recovering. He slowed his pace to a normal walk and then gently grabbed Paul with both hands. Kermit was right behind Peter, arms outstretched to greet his friend. The two guided the older man into the guest chair in front of Peter's desk.

While Paul was settling himself in the chair, Peter was throwing question after question toward the new arrival: "When did you get in? How did you come? Who brought you to the office? Are you staying?"

When Peter finally ran out of questions, Paul started to talk again, chuckling occasionally at his foster son's exuberance. "It was time to come home, Peter. It was a long flight from Marseilles through Paris to Chicago to Sloanville, but I learned long ago to sleep on planes. A taxi brought me here. Kermit gave me the address a while ago."

"Matthew let me know just yesterday you were coming. I figured I better prepare Pete." Kermit didn't conceal his delight at Peter's reaction.

Paul was chuckling, too, but then grew pensive. "I've wanted to come home for long time, but Matthew's doctor friend always said, 'Not yet.'" Then the smile returned: "The third time I returned to the cave after spending all day roaming the area, with no anxious questions from the good doctor about where I'd been and how I felt, I knew it was time."

The two younger men were absorbing how well the older man looked--thinner, but stronger, his face still lined by the years but smoother under a healthy tan--when Paul grew serious. Turning to Kermit he began, "I gather Peter now knows about that list. Is there anyone else I have to kill?"

The other two gulped and then realized Paul was mostly kidding.

Kermit answered, "The only other two who know are your daughters and they think it was a list of your contacts. I had to talk kind of fast to get them to accept how profitable that list could be, but they're content. Matthew, Kwai Chang, and Angeliquè never saw any of the information."

"What about Harrison and Martin Bradshaw?" Peter had picked up on the red herring generated by Griffin while in France--the fake file generated by Kermit and appropriated by Harrison and Martin--and wanted to know the outcome.

The other two men both laughed at the mention of Martin's name. Paul answered first. "I was resting in the guest bedroom in the Doctor's home when Martin came to see his father. He was so angry, he was barely coherent.

"He had had a pretty accurate idea of what was in that file, and had been very pleased with himself at knowing that since Harrison had opened the file, it was still there--as long as he didn't turn off the computer. And he had been able to sneak the computer out of that barn under your nose, Kermit. He carried that information so proudly to his bosses and then they went to follow my trail." He started to laugh again. "Kermit, how did you do that? You substituted their suspected-terrorist list for my file. Brilliant!"

Kermit was laughing too, "I was watching carefully when he linked to the Interpol internal database. I saw more than he intended me to see." Then he sobered. "I did have to add those names you sent me so both men would think it was the real list. I had shown Martin those names myself and I was sure that Harrison would know some of the names from Rogres. I suspected I wasn't sacrificing good people. Am I right?"

Blaisdell too had sobered. "The reason I contacted those specific people and gave you their names was that I'd heard they were back in business. The agreement with me was that they would retire permanently and I would hide them. They broke that agreement. Have you heard anything about Harrison?" Paul asked, still concerned about the one person who had been at the core of the problems that had plagued his family and friends over the last twenty months.

"There was a small article in a Greek newspaper two days ago about a partially decomposed body caught up in a fisherman's net a couple of weeks ago. The police were able to identify the body with the help of our government. Seems Harrison participated in the blood drive a few times and one of his donated pints was still available, which meant his DNA could be determined. His DNA matched that of the body found by the fishermen." Kermit was solemn, but was obviously suppressing a smile.

Paul asked first. "Why would anyone go to that much trouble over a body? Surely there wasn't anything special about it to trigger such attention?"

The feral grin was there all right, but the voice was flat, "There was a rumor about that the son from a wealthy family was kidnapped and not returned when the ransom was paid. A very large reward was mentioned for any evidence of the son, even if dead. I hear that someone in an unnamed village in Greece claimed the reward. The go-between hired to pay the reward was given DNA information and told that it was that of the kidnapped victim--actually, it was Harrison's."

The shared laughter expressed as much relief that their worries were over, as it did delight in Kermit's inspired ploy.

Kermit's computer announced that it was twenty minutes to four o'clock. Paul looked at Kermit in surprise and got a shrug and a smile in return. "It keeps us on time."

Peter jumped up, "I've got an appointment at four. See you later, Paul." He gave his foster father a quick hug, saying, "I love you, Paul. See you in a little while." Then he left.

As soon as Peter had left, Paul looked directly at Kermit. "Okay, Griffin. Why did you leave the force? That seemed a perfect place for you--squirreled in behind that computer, away from the action, no involvement in other people's wars."

Kermit grinned at his friend. "Things change, Paul. You know that." Then he sobered. "I'm still grateful you made that opening in your precinct for me. It was the right place for me to start learning why we fought in those wars. But after a while, the need to hide was gone." He took another sip of the coffee, then looked at his former captain. "Too, I got tired of being told what to do and with whom. Besides, the precinct was getting too comfortable."

Blaisdell chuckled at the thought. "You always did prefer people to be unsure of you. I gather you didn't mind your new captain's acceptance."

Kermit's frown surprised Paul. "I've always understood the taboo against a leader getting involved with an underling. Never expected to find myself in the underling position... But that's one of the reasons I left. The commissioner was starting to make comments about the suitability of a police captain being involved with a member of her department. Karen was pretending to treat it as a joke, but her career is too important to her. Besides, she's a much better cop than I was."

"So you're doing security work? Don't tell me you play rent-a-cop!" Paul was just teasing; he was amazed at how relaxed and open the former mercenary was. Obviously Kermit had new stories to share over a cold beer.

The Koosh ball Kermit launched from behind the desk and barely missed Paul in the guest chair. "We do not do 'rent-a cop'. We help set up or evaluate security systems. In special cases, we might go undercover as guests or patrons. Mostly, we help solve problems--legally, of course. I'm one hell of a detective. As is Pete." The stock feral grin appeared for part of a second and was gone, replaced by an air of pride Paul hadn't seen in years. Griffin was proud of his ability to help, but knew the logic of staying on the good side of the police. He just had more latitude now in finding evidence.

The two men sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. Then Kermit stood and moved away from his desk. "Paul, I have a appointment in a few minutes--shouldn't last more than twenty minutes. Would you like to wait here? I'll come get you and take you home. I warned your wife to expect a special guest."

Paul looked up at his good friend, "I'll be fine, Kermit." Then he looked sideways at him, "But you trust me here with your computer?"

Griffin gently clapped him on the shoulder as he headed for the door, "You are probably the only one I do trust. See you in a bit." And he was gone.

Paul moved to Peter's chair, leaned back, and put his feet on the desk. He let his mind roam, thinking about how more mature Peter seemed and how settled Kermit now looked. From there, his thoughts were naturally drawn to his wife, and then to the last time he had seen her.

***

He was resting from one of his walks, sitting quietly in Angeliquè's den. He heard noises, at first outside the cottage, then coming inside. He dismissed the sounds, assuming that one of Angeliquè's or Matthew's friends had come to call. Then came the tentative touch at his door.

As he rose and turned toward the door, it opened. Annie stood in the doorway - the one person he was most desperate to see and yet most scared to see. And yet here she was--his beloved Annie. His immediate joy suppressed any doubts.

"Annie." The light in her face when he spoke her name removed his fears that she would reject him for any of the insecurities that plagued him - he who had walked out of her life, he who was thought to have died. Surely, he had worried, she had found a successor to him. But she was too happy to see him.

Annie stayed for just a week, too short a week to ask, much less answer, all the questions that had accumulated since they last saw each other. The doctor limited their visits to several hours each day, protecting him from over-extending himself. His nights were still spent in the hospital suite in the cave, where the doctor continued to interrupt his sleep monitoring his life signs. Her departure strengthened his desire to heal so he could go home.

***

Griffin returned from his appointment a little later than he had expected. He let himself in through the well-locked rear door that opened into the room they used as the nursery. The key merely notified the office guardian computer system that entrance was desired; the correct code, entered into the keypad hidden in the checkered strip painted around the doorframe as decoration, actuated the opening mechanism. The solid steel door, mounted in the camouflaged steel wall, would keep out any potential assassin or kidnapper.

From his vantage point, he could see his friend was lost in reflection, probably of his imminent homecoming. The thought triggered the memory of his first day back from his adventure in France.

***

Griffin paused at his place only long enough to shower and change clothing, and to straighten the contents of the boxes he had hand-carried from France. The trip from his place to Karen's was much shorter than he remembered.

As he traveled the distance, one thought came to mind. "It is good to be home." He examined that thought for a few moments and then went on to another. "This is Home! This town, this place, is home!" That was followed by a third thought. "I am so glad to be able to come home!" And then he was parking in front of her house.

The armful of presents was a transparent excuse for Kermit's delay in ringing the doorbell. He could not remember such stagefright ever barring his way.

The door seemed to open of its own accord. "Don't tell me--you're an undercover UPS deliveryman. Well, as long as you're carrying them to the door, you might as well bring them inside." The light words belied the fear and concern in Karen's voice; emotions that exactly matched his.

"I thought Holly might like a Paris original or two," Kermit said as he moved into Simms' living room with an assumed air of nonchalance, hoping to hide his fear of rejection. He was returning, home from the wars, to his ladylove--he desperately hoped. His leave-taking had been too sudden, too fast; could the bridge be repaired?

"There'd better be one for me, or you are out of here." She was still managing to keep her tone light, but her concern was that these were parting gifts; that he had found the freewheeling life to his liking. Then she looked into his eyes.

He was afraid. Of her.

She had missed him so much. Tears started to well in her eyes. He was afraid she was going to send him away. So he was back; but ...

"I thought I'd let you pick out your own."

His words removed the spell from her feet. She had been staring at him since he walked into her house, but now she fairly flew toward him, only to realize he had leaned over to place the three giftboxes on the coffee table.

Her unexpected movement upset his balance and they both fell, with him twisting just enough to catch her in his arms before they landed.

"Isn't Holly going to catch us here ..." Her expression stopped him in mid-sentence. He could see, in her eyes, the affirmation corresponding to that which appeared uninvited in his mind. I have returned to her, and she wants me here!

Karen sat up, conscious of Kermit's uncomfortable position, and straightened her clothes and hair. "Your badge is at the office. I can give it to you there."

Kermit arranged himself on the floor so he was sitting next to this very important person, stroked her hair, and kissed her gently. Before she could return his kiss, he shook his head. "I won't need it. I never really was a cop, and this would be a good time to make my resignation final. Besides, Commissioner Kincaid's remarks about us have been getting more pointed. It's just not good for morale for the Captain to be involved with one of her detectives."

"One of us could transfer..."

He kissed her again. "You're too necessary to the squad. You are their Captain. And I don't feel like breaking in a whole 'nother precinct. I think I'll start a detective agency."

They helped each other to their feet, Karen still trying to come up with arguments, albeit unsuccessfully. She had just accepted that he was right about leaving when his last statement sunk in.

She stopped still for a moment, her mouth dropping open, as half-finished thoughts ran through her mind, He can't be… A detective? How can he…? What will he…? A detective…" She said her final impression aloud as she thought it. "What a brilliant idea!"

The outwardly placid Kermit was shaking inside, with relief. This was so much easier than I expected. She really wanted me back, she was as afraid as I that there would be no reunion. What fool this mortal be! As he thought, he shook each box carefully, finally selecting the middle one and opening it. Karen gasped as he removed a soft silvery-black spider web, shook it out gently, and placed it over her shoulders. The stole was made of very fine angora yarn, crocheted in a delicate pattern, with threads of silver woven in, accentuating the pattern.

"This is lovely, Kermit. Thank you!" She turned to face him, where he still stood at her shoulder, reached up to pat his cheek, and guided his face down to hers.

The kiss lengthened and deepened as they moved their bodies closer...

"You're back already?" Paul's voice shattered Kermit's reverie. "I was just sitting here, thinking pretty much the same things you were, I imagine, given the look on your face. Women! So nice to come home to!"

Kermit acknowledged the comment with a grin as wide as Paul's as he walked from the other room and picked up his friend's discarded coat.

"Come on. It's time to get you home to yours. I'll see mine later tonight."

Paul stood, put on his coat, and followed Kermit out of the office.

THE END

Next Story: Reunion

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