Dissolution

by Tracy

The events following Ties that Bind, the KFTLC/Silk Stalkings x-over. Part of the Partners Series stories.

DISSOLUTION

By Tracy LeCates

PART 1
LONELY VIGIL

The lone occupant of the midnight-blue car shivered despite the warmth of the night air. The sun had only just sunk below the horizon and the heat of the day had not quite yet dissipated, yet the chill he felt went straight to the bone.

The lights in the house across the street from his position were still on in the rooms on the lower floor. One by one, a few on the upper level flicked on to cast their glow into the outside world as well. The watcher checked the glowing numerals on his dashboard and sighed heavily. It was bedtime.

The bathroom light had been on for a long, long time. *Guess I know which of the three put up the biggest fight when it came time for the baths,* he mused silently, knowing the routine well. *Which story will it be tonight?*

Peter's shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly as one by one the lights on the upper floor were turned out in regular intervals. Bethany's room went dark first, the one-year-old child the first to fall asleep. She'd probably fallen asleep before her pajamas had been put on. Paul's light went out almost fifteen minutes later, he'd always gone right to sleep in the middle of the bedtime story. Cait's light, however, was on for considerably longer. Always the restless soul, she'd hang on until the last word of the story, and then want to get out of bed again and play, or watch television. And the mere fact that it was her mother who wanted her to go to sleep was reason enough for Cait to stay awake. Nicole had always joked she was glad at those times she had backup. *Well,* Peter thought with a strange twist of anger and pain, *she had no backup tonight. Or any other night.*

A sudden chill wracked Peter's slim body and he shuddered, his eyes easing shut for a moment, then clenching against the tremors which shook his body. And, his soul. He was so tired, and cold... and hungry. He knew he'd eaten but... couldn't quite remember when. When his eyes drifted open again the house across the street was dark. No lights were left on upstairs, all the children were asleep. No lights were left on downstairs, the single adult in the house having turned in after a long, busy day. Even the light on the front porch had been extinguished. *No reason to leave that on,* he thought bitterly, *No one else lives in that house any longer. No one who isn't 'home' already.*

The clock on the dashboard told him several hours had passed since he'd seen the lights on upstairs. Hours. He couldn't have had his eyes closed for any more than a few moments... One hand came up to his face, absentmindedly scratching his jaw. A jaw that sported not simply five-o'clock shadow, but a growth of beard which had to have been at least five days old.

Peter stretched his aching muscles in the confines of the Stealth, and reached for the keys, which still hung in the ignition. Anger flashed briefly through him as he looked up at the last window on the left. The window to the room he himself used to share with the lone current occupant. Anger that had been near violence just a few short months ago was now dampened to a dull urge, easily brushed aside, and no longer easily explained.

The hour had grown late as he sat in the Stealth, his hand on the ignition, but there was no hurry to get back to the rooftop apartment his father had once occupied. The rooftop apartment he now called home on at least a temporary basis. He was in no hurry to get back there, to lay down and close his eyes, for when sleep did come it was seldom restful. He'd waken in the morning feeling more tired than he had when he'd gone to sleep, reaching out blindly for the warmth of a body that no longer occupied a place in his bed, or in his life. He'd waken confused and disoriented for long moments as he discerned his location and recalled the reasons for him being there. No, there was no reason to hurry 'home' to sleep, no reason for him to worry about getting up early and heading to the office. He wouldn't be going to work in the morning, he decided. Kermit was pissed at him too, though he wasn't exactly sure why. Everyone around him seemed so intolerant, so angry these past few months. If it weren't for the kids, he would have left town long ago.

"Something's wrong... something's wrong..." Peter chanted to himself under his breath as his vision fogged briefly with the tears that wet his cheeks.

Wiping angrily at his eyes, Peter started the car, at last, and shifted into drive, pulling away slowly from the house, ending his lonely vigil for the night.

PART 2
WAITING

Kermit set the phone down in its' cradle with as much controlled calm as he could muster.

"Still no answer?" Annie Blaisdell asked from the kitchen door.

Kermit took a quiet, deep breath before replying, "No."

There was a protracted silence in the house, born of frustration. Frustration, which had been building over the past four months. Kermit ran a hand distractedly through his hair, strangely in a Peter-like fashion. Annie turned away after a long moment, wandering back into the living room. She sank down into her husband's favorite chair, as though hoping to feel his strength and decisiveness through the comfortable association. Paul was due back in a matter of hours from his trip to see Kelly at college, and Annie was grateful she wouldn't be facing the weekend alone. Alone, with three children.

Kermit followed her a few moments later. The inevitable question and answer period was about to begin.

"You're sure he said he was picking up the kids tonight?" Annie asked, though she already knew the answer.

Kermit nodded. "Yes. He mentioned it to me at the office just this afternoon. Said he was going to rent a couple of movies for them tonight and get pizza... take them to the zoo tomorrow..." Kermit's eyes wandered to the mantle clock. It was after 10:00 P.M. and Peter had yet to call or show up at the Blaisdell house to pick up his children for his weekend visit. "Do you want me to call Nicole?" he asked finally asked.

"No." Annie's reply was immediate, and firm.

Kermit took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "All right. Maybe I'll take another swing passed the brownstone and see if Peter's car is there."

Annie remained silent.

"Annie..." Kermit began, awkwardly.

"Kermit, I just don't understand what's going on here!" she blurted out at last. The tone of her voice finally revealed her confusion, and her frustration.

"If I knew..."

"I don't understand, Kermit," she continued, interrupting the ex-mercenary. "He loves those kids, he adores them, he's a good father! And yet, I just put three crying children to bed upstairs, and they were crying because they were supposed to see their father tonight, and he didn't show up. Again. I don't understand it, and those kids upstairs certainly don't understand it."

Kermit sat, motionless, and silent until her outburst appeared to be over. He couldn't argue with her. Peter's behavior had been erratic the last few months. Following his divorce from his wife, Peter had remained a partner in the investigation business, Nicole having divided her third of the partnership between the other two partners. Since then, Kermit had been reluctant to ask Peter to perform any of the fieldwork. He showed up late for appointments, sullen, and sometimes looking like he hadn't showered or shaved in days. Other days he showed up exactly on time, bright-eyed and talkative. This was the second time he had not shown up to pick up the children for a weekend visit. *Peter, of all people,* Kermit grumbled silently, *of all people, he should know how it feels to have a parent disappear with no explanation or apology.*

Peter had been granted the standard weekend/holiday visitation rights with his three children. Some weeks, all he talked about was getting through to the weekend, and the plans he'd made for himself and the kids. Over the past months, a routine had been worked out for those weekend visits. Nicole would drop the three off at the Blaisdell home, late on Friday afternoon, and return for them on Sunday evenings. Pickups and drop-offs were carefully choreographed so she would not have to run into Peter. There had been no direct communication between them since the day they walked out of divorce court. All communication was routed through Annie, Paul, and Kermit.

"I've tried to talk to him, Annie. And I've gotten a headache from banging my head against the brick wall named Peter."

"I know you have. And talking to his former 'better half' isn't any easier. I can't get a straight answer from either of them."

"I've stopped trying," Kermit sighed. When his partners' marriage had split up, he'd effectively lost both of them. Nicole wouldn't come anywhere near the office, and Peter had become completely undependable. "Sometimes I think about asking for my badge back. My first act would be to arrest the both of them for public idiocy."

Annie smiled despite herself. "Kermit, it's Friday night, and I'm sure your wife would love to see you for a change. Go on home. Paul will be home before midnight, and we'll figure out a way of diverting the kids tomorrow. Peter will show up, he always does... eventually. And when he does, he and I are going to have a long talk."

Kermit could hear the iron in her normally soft voice. He stood, placed a quick kiss on her cheek, and let himself out.

PART 3
DAYS AT WORK

Peter walked into the outer office of Griffin Caine Investigations with a bounce in his step which had been missing for quite some time. Kermit glanced up from his desk, peering over his CRT, and out into the reception area. Just as he had been doing for the last six months, he was trying to gauge Peter's 'mental state du jour'. Most common was the surly growl. Second most common was the quiet, forgetful frown. This lighthearted step was a new one. If there was one thing in the world Kermit hated, it was something new.

"Morning, Pete," he called out.

"Morning, Kermit!" Peter called back, his voice full of good cheer. The detective grinned as he waved a hand at his partner.

The man behind the green glasses returned the wave, almost cautiously. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Lately, Peter had a lot of shoes, and he seemed to be dropping them all over town.

Peter halted in his tracks. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in his partner's expression. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing. I was just wondering what we owed this good mood to," he ventured.

The answer was accompanied by a shrug as he sauntered over to lean against the doorframe. "It's Friday. I have a whole weekend with the three most adorable monsters in the world ahead of me. What more does a person need to be in a good mood?"

"Okay," Kermit relented. "Picking them up at Paul and Annie's still?" he asked casually. The other ex-cop had been close-mouthed lately about his weekend visitations. At least he knew from Paul that Peter had been showing every time over the past two months.

Peter nodded, a fraction of the light in his eyes fading. "Yeah. I'll be swinging by there around 7:00. Hopefully they'll already have eaten dinner. I'm... not the world's greatest cook," he admitted with a rueful smile.

"Tell that to someone who doesn't know it."

"You're a riot, Kermit. Don't quit your day job," he shot back, good-naturedly for a change, as he made his way through to his own office.

The ex-mercenary stared at the place his partner had occupied moments before, for a long, long time. "Note to self - check basement for pods," he muttered under his breath before returning to his computer.

The morning and early afternoon passed uneventfully at Griffin Caine. Calls were taken from current and prospective clients. A conference call between the partners and the head of security for a local mall took more time than they'd expected, but still the mood in the office had not deteriorated. Kermit had begun to almost hold out hope he had his old friend back.

Closing down and securing his computer, the elder partner sighed tiredly. Life was taking more out of him than it used to. The day-to-day routines he'd abhorred in his youth were now the rituals that rejuvenated him. At least they had been until six months ago. Six months ago his routine had been interrupted. Pulling the weight of one former partner, and one 'absent in his presence' partner had taken its toll. *But it's Friday,* he reminded himself as he stood and turned off the light in his office as he closed the door.

An abnormal sight caught Kermit's eye as he made his way through the outer office area. The light shone through under the door to Peter's office. It was almost 6:30, and Kermit knew his partner was due to pick up his children in just a half an hour. He'd heard no sound from the other office for hours, and had almost naturally assumed his friend had gone home without bothering to say goodbye.

The hazel eyes of the man at the desk greeted his shaded ones as he looked up upon hearing his office door open. Those eyes then returned to their previous fixation. The framed photo held between two slightly unsteady hands.

"Pete?" Kermit ventured into the office a few feet, keeping his voice as low, as if speaking in a library. Or, a funeral home.

"Taking them to the carnival tomorrow," came the soft, nearly toneless reply. Peter's eyes never left the photo of his family. The photo he held had been taken just days after Nicole's return home from the hospital after giving birth to Bethany. Cait had been standing guard over 'her baby' as her father had snapped the photo. He'd plagued them all with the camera that day. He would have continued to blind his family with the flash the next day, had he been able to find the camera... which had mysteriously grown legs and walked away in the night, leaving only the used roll of film in its' place.

"Sounds like fun," Kermit said encouragingly.

A nod was the only response he received for several heartbeats.

"...miss those kids..." Peter half whispered.

"I know you do."

"Weekends aren't enough. What kind of father can I be on weekends only?" he asked plaintively, his eyes still glued to the photo, as though asking the three children, instead of the grown man that stood a few feet away from him.

"The same kind you were before the divorce. You just have to try harder now. Take advantage of the time you do have."

Peter shook his head slowly. "A weekend father... she divorced me... divorced me from my kids, too..."

Kermit's eyebrow arched above his glasses. "Peter... you divorced her, remember?" he asked, attempting to infuse his words with a measure of humor.

Snapping suddenly out of his reverie, Peter stashed the photo back in the top desk drawer it had inhabited for the past six months and glanced at his watch. "Wow, I can't believe the day is over already." He grinned, stood, and snatched his keys from the desk. He glanced at his partner as though noticing his presence for the first time. "Hey, I gotta go, the kids are waiting for me and I have big plans for the weekend with them. Going to take them to the carnival."

PART 4
THE OTHER SIDE

Kermit knocked more loudly. He tried just once more before turning and going back to his car. Finally, from within, he heard the soft sound of someone treading down the stairs. Moments later, the bolt was thrown back, and the front door opened.

Nicole's bloodshot eyes blinked up at him. "Kermit," she yawned. "God, I'm sorry, I must have overslept," she offered in way of excuse as she backed up, allowing him entry.

Kermit Griffin glanced at his watch as he moved passed her, into the foyer. The house was dark, the curtains drawn, and Nicole was in her bathrobe at nearly noon. "Where are the tiny terrorists?" he asked, observing her from behind his dark glasses.

"My parents have them for a few days. Come on in, I'll put a on a pot of coffee." She yawned and stretched as she walked away from him, down the hall to the kitchen, leaving him to bring the stack of files in his arms into the living room.

After dropping the pile onto the coffee table, Kermit made a quick round of the room, drawing back the curtains to let a little sunlight into the room. It had been a while since he'd been to the house, though he'd seen the kids at the Blaisdell home on a fairly frequent basis. It had been nearly seven months since Nicole last set foot in the Griffin Caine offices, and given Peter's work habits of late, Kermit Griffin was buried in paper. He'd at last resorted to calling his former partner, and begging for help.

Kermit could hear her, moving about in the kitchen, making coffee and probably digging around for bagels or something. Nicole always had food on hand, and lots of it. However, from the brief look he'd gotten at her, it did not appear as though she'd been eating much of it lately. His second glance at her as she entered the living room, two mugs of coffee in hand, proved his eyes hadn't been deceiving him. In the clear light now shining through the open windows he could see she had lost quite a bit of weight. Already trim to begin with, the fifteen pounds she had to have lost were quite noticeable. Standing out with equal clarity were the dark circles beneath her eyes. The ex-mercenary reached out to take the offered mug from her hand as she curled up on the other end of the sofa, tucking her long legs up under her.

"You weren't just kidding when you said you were swamped." She smiled, pointing at the stack of manila folders on the table.

"No. No, you know I never kid," Kermit replied, returning the smile and trying not to stare. "So... how have you been?" he asked.

"Good. Good. Fine," she replied, nodding her head enthusiastically. "Keeping busy, staying out of trouble, all that good stuff. The twins started kindergarten this fall."

"I know. I had a hard time with that one. Seems like only yesterday you were terrorizing Pete at the precinct-" Kermit cut his sentence short and winced slightly. His eyes flicked over to his former partner. Her face was an unreadable mask.

"Yeah, right. Well. Let's see what you brought me," she offered, swiftly shifting the topic back to work. She leaned over to grasp the top file.

"Nicole, what happened to your hand?" Kermit asked, reaching out to take her fingers lightly in his as they touched the envelope. Her knuckles were an angry bruise.

A small, almost sad smile crept over her face. "Ran into a certain nurse at the hospital yesterday."

"A nurse?" Kermit asked in surprise before realization dawned on him. "Oh. You mean that nurse that Peter --"

"Yes!" Nicole cut him off abruptly, not wanting to hear the words. The thought itself still inspired a sick knot in her stomach.

Kermit nodded, not knowing what to say. He released her hand and watched her as she flipped through the first few files. "Nicole... what were you doing at the hospital yesterday anyway?" he asked, starting now to wonder about had been going on in her life during the passed months.

"Visiting a sick friend," she explained in a soft, wooden voice.

A few, brief moments of silence passed between the two as they sat on the sofa. They had known each other a long, long time. Through the days in the mercenary trade, through their time at the 101st... they'd married their respective spouses in a double ceremony together, he was the godfather of her children, and her former business partner. They'd been more than co-workers; they'd been friends. Things between them had been strained due to circumstances of late, but the feelings of trust and friendship neither of them was likely to admit to were still there.

"Looks like you're somebody's sick friend right now," he commented, seeing the exhaustion in her gray eyes. "You got the flu or something?"

Nicole's eyes settled on his face. "No. Not the flu."

"You're not pregnant are you?" Kermit asked, incredulous.

"NO, I'm not pregnant, for God's sake," she snapped. "And you can take that shocked expression off your face. For heaven's sake if I wanted to sleep with someone I'd be perfectly within my rights to. I'm divorced, remember?"

"But you're not," he ventured.

"No, I'm not," she answered, rolling her eyes at him.

Kermit's question was quiet. "Then what's wrong?"

The indecision was in her hesitation as she shifted uncomfortably, then rose and walked towards the kitchen again. "We're going to need more coffee. It's going to be a long afternoon," she grumbled.

PART 5
DREAMS OF REALITY

Peter whimpered softly in his sleep. The beads of sweat on his forehead glistened in the dim moonlight, which filtered in through the windows of the rooftop apartment. He'd at last won the victory over insomnia, but the victory was a hollow one. It had come with a hefty price tag. The whimper became a low moan, full of misery, as denied memories became dreams, which overtook him once again.

His son and eldest daughter stood in open doorway of the Blaisdell house as Peter headed towards the Stealth following his first weekend visitation.

"I hate you!" Paul yelled, with as much vehemence in his voice as the shy young boy was capable of.

The dagger plunged into the young father's heart.

"NO!!! I go with YOU!!!" Cait added her voice to the pandemonium in Peter's sleeping mind, where memories assaulted him undaunted. His eldest child sobbed openly as she ran after him, throwing her arms around her father's leg. The dagger in his chest twisted, and plunged deeper.

Tears on his cheeks glistened as brightly as the droplets of sweat that ran from his brow. The scene shifted. *No, no, no....* His mind tried to reject the images, but to no avail. His own dream voice now clamored for attention. "You heard me, Nicole! The doctors couldn't find a thing wrong with me physically! They all said the only thing wrong with ME was that I'd married a castrating SHREW!"

Peter thrashed about on the small pallet on which he now slept. Thrashed about on the left side, the only side of any bed he had occupied for years. Powerless to halt the cascade of memories, incapable of changing the events of the past, he could do more than cringe and clench more tightly around the pillow he held in his arms.

Nicole's face reflected the heart wrenching pain and denial in her soul. "You what...?"

"You heard me..." Peter's gloating voice slapped her in the face as hard as an open hand. "Had to check and see if the damn thing still worked. God knows you've been trying to snip me for years now... And guess what? IT WORKS!" he laughed. "All it took was a real women to resurrect 'Mr. Lucky'..."

Nicole shook her head slowly. She was unable to process the information he had just thrown in her face. "How could you....?" she asked softly.

The old ice had returned to her voice in full force. Dreaming the recollection, Peter could now see the barriers slipping back into place, barriers he knew she'd dropped long ago. He fought ineffectually to stop the hurting, but it was too late. Too late by nearly a year. *Stop, stop, no more...* his heart begged his sleeping mind.

"No, no, noooooo," his own drunken voice came back to haunt him. "The question IS... how could I NOT? Shoulda done this yeeeeeears ago..."

His wife's jaw set firm as she stared down her husband, setting the tears and sorrow aside for a time when she was alone. "Bottom line me here, Peter... What do you want? You want out?"

"To quote an old and dear friend of ours, 'OH YEAH'!"

Kermit's voice came to him through the fog, "No, Peter. You divorced her."

"NO!" Peter screamed, sitting bolt upright, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. "No..." he repeated in a whisper. His eyes clenched shut against the reality. The reality of his father's apartment, where he now lived. Alone. The reality of the empty bed, and his current marital status. Divorced. "I did it..." he groaned, wrapping his arms around his knees, his body rocking back and forth on the pallet. "I did it... I did it..."

PART 6
THE PAPERS

Nicole closed the front door behind her and leaned back wearily against it. Her hand tightened around the envelope she held. After an untold length of time, she finally forced herself to take a breath, and to take a few shaky steps into the den. Grateful for the silence of the house, the twins in school, Bethany down for a nap, she sank down onto the couch and stared at the envelope in her hand.

The emotional pain of the past three months had become too much to bear, and had at last settled into a livable numbness. At least it had until that moment. She'd known they would come, but somehow she was unprepared for the harsh reality of what she held, solid in her hand. Years of her life, hopes, dreams, expectations and promises... all came down to a few pieces of paper in a manila envelope which awaited her signature.

Her husband had vacated the premises with the last of his possessions weeks earlier, though 'Peter' had been gone for several months before that. The quiet of the house was something Nicole wasn't certain she would ever get used to. When he'd first moved out, she'd been almost grateful for the ensuing silence. It had been a welcome change from the screaming fights and the bitter accusations that had flown back and forth between them for months.

"What will you do now?" her sister had asked her just that morning.

"First, I'll probably get really fat..." she'd responded dismally. She knew in her heart the boredom alone after giving up her share of the agency would probably drive her to the cookie dough as fast as the loneliness would.

The mantle clock struck noon, startling Nicole out of her reverie for a moment. As she glanced at the clock, the framed photo sitting next to it caught her eye. Try as she might, she couldn't look away from the image of the newlyweds, madly grinning back at her. It seemed everywhere her eyes landed there were reminders. Reminders of Peter. Reminders of their marriage. Reminders of the good times. And reminders of a commitment broken. She rose from the sofa and reached out for the photo. "Time to find another home for you..." she whispered as she removed it from the mantle. The irony of the moment struck her, slowly filtering through the haze. Wedding photo held in one hand... the envelope in the other... and her breaking heart in between.

Somewhere between what lie in her two hands, the partners who became lovers had conceived and birthed three children. They had built a home and a life together. A friendship, a love, a partnership. Almost six years together. *Was it really that long ago?* she mused silently. Clear as if it had happened yesterday, she could still see the spark of amusement in Peter's eyes the first night she'd come to his apartment alone.... showing up in the middle of the night, in the middle of a thunderstorm, soaked to the skin.

******He took her face in his hands, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "What have you been doing, wandering around half the night in the rain?"

"Well...yeah."

He laughed softly and released her. "Aren't you stubborn? I'm glad you decided to come in before you drowned. Well, instead of standing there dripping, let me get you something dry to wear." He disappeared into his room, and reappeared a few minutes later with a tee shirt and sweat pants which he tossed to her and pointed to the bathroom. "Go on. Maybe a warm shower would take the chill off. Clean towels are on the shelf."******

And just a few days later, what they'd started that night came to a head at the ill-fated Awards Banquet...

******She pulled away unexpectedly, with a smile and walked away from him, and out the open French doors to the terrace. He followed. She stood at the edge of the garden patio, and took his hand as he approached, guiding him to her into the relative privacy of the shadows, and kissed him. Nicole felt Peter's passion, matching hers, and never thought it would be possible to feel the depth of emotion she felt for Peter. She clung to him, exploring his body with her hands as his wandered over hers. His hands sent chills throughout her body and soul. She'd sensed the attraction building between them since before that night she'd shown up at his apartment and found comfort and safety in his arms on his lumpy sofa.

Surprisingly, it was Peter who pulled away first, gently disengaging, holding her arms. "What are we doing?" he asked with a breathless, uncertain smile.

"Kissing," she answered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You're touching me," he teased gently.

"You bet."

"We work together."

"You had relationships with Kelly and Jordan..." she reminded him.

"Yes, but I didn't feel this way with them..."

"And how's that?" She stared into his eyes.

"I want you more than anything." His hands moved over her arms, her shoulders, to the bare skin of her back. "I want to make love to you tonight, and the night after and the night after and the night after that...I think I could fall in love with you," he confessed quietly, pulling her into his arms again.

"Then let's get out of here."

"Can we do this without raising too many eyebrows?" he whispered conspiratorially.

"We'll have to figure out a way..." she thought aloud. "Well, we have to wait until after dinner and the presentation." She sighed with disappointment.

"You think people would notice if we left right now?"******

Nicole's eyes burned with unshed tears as she dismissed the memory. The memory of the night she'd spent on his sofa... his arms wrapped securely around her, warding off the nightmares that had plagued her. Six years.

The photo in her hand disappeared out of sight into a drawer without another glance. Her empty hand sought out a pen, and with an unresolved heart, opened the envelope. Putting pen to paper, she quickly scribbled a signature at the bottom of the final divorce papers.

PART 7
FLIGHT OF THE HAMSTER

The former Mrs. Caine knew she had reached the end of her rope as she opened the door to the pet shop. The twins split up, running down the aisles as the salesgirl approached the harried looking mother.

"Can I help you?" the girl asked, stopping to admire the baby in Nicole's arms.

"Yeah... where do you keep your ... rodents?" she sighed tiredly.

"What kind of rodents are you looking for?" the teenage clerk asked with an uncertain smile.

"Hamsters," the tired customer replied, with just a touch of distaste. She'd despised any kind of rodent for years... since an incident during her days in the mercenary trade.

The clerk smiled. "In the back, I think your kids have already found them."

"Of course they have..." she muttered under her breath, heading off towards the back of the shop.

Cait and Paul had indeed found the little fuzzballs. And had already fallen completely in love with one of the squirming, filthy little beasts.

"Okay, guys..." their mother reminded them, "Don't forget, you have to clean its' cage every day, and feed it and give it water..."

"We will!!!" Cait smiled up at her and her heart melted. Her eldest child hadn't smiled at her in months.

"Okay... then point out the one you want to the saleslady and we'll take him home."

There was a round of cheers from the twins that made Nicole feel like maybe there was some purpose to life after all. The kids had been so depressed the last few weeks... getting them their first pet was a last ditch effort to cheer them up and it was working. It was working on her as well. She realized that a hamster was a poor substitute for the father they were really missing... then again the hamster didn't lie, cheat and argue... The hamster was looking better and better. Better and better until the $6.95 rat wound up costing several times its' original purchase price in accessories. A HabitTrail set, a wheel for it to run on, food, cage litter.... However, the look of excitement on her children's faces was priceless. *Who says money can't buy happiness?*

**********

One week later....

Kermit knocked again. The Mustang was in the driveway... Nicole had to be home. He was one minute away from using his spare key, when the door swung open. His ex-partner greeted him with an embarrassed smile. She was dressed in black, holding Bethany in one arm, who was also dressed in black. In her other hand she held a cardboard shoebox which looked as though it had been colored black... in crayon.

"C'mon in, Kermit... you're just in time..."

"In time for what?" he asked curiously. He received no answer as she turned and headed back through the house, signaling him to follow.

Nicole lead her former partner out to the backyard, where he found Paul and Cait, dressed in black, standing by a small, freshly dug hole under a large tree. He pulled up short with a groan, realizing what he'd just walked in to.

She handed the box to a teary-eyed Cait, who stooped to place it in the hole.

"Go ahead, Caitlyn, we're listening..." Nicole told the little girl in her most sympathetic voice.

Cait looked at her audience with serious eyes before opening her mouth. "Here lies Burpy the hamster," she choked out passed her tears. "Nobody tol' me he couldn't fly..." This last she delivered with a slightly angry look at her mother before continuing, "Rest in peace."

*Rest in pieces is more like it...* Nicole cringed inwardly at the thought.

The funeral concluded and Cait led the mourners back into the house for hot chocolate.

"Fly?" Kermit whispered to his friend as she walked in behind the kids.

"Hey... how was I supposed to know she really wanted a parakeet?"

Kermit bit back on the laughter he felt bubbling up inside him. "Dare I ask?"

Nicole shook her head sadly. "Poor little Burpy took his maiden flight out the second story window.... musta been quite a rush..."

PART 8
COMING BACK

*Paperwork.... paperwork... paperwork...* Peter Caine muttered to himself as he sat behind his desk, staring at the piles. *Where the Hell did it all come from, anyway?* His fingers sought out the thinnest folders first, an expression of distaste on his face. His eyes wandered to his desk calendar, and he noted with some small amount of satisfaction that he had several appointments scheduled later in the week, which would take him away from the dreaded desk.

Since his ex-wife's departure from Griffin/Caine, there had been a redistribution of duties. Not that Nicole had been stuck in the office doing all the paperwork... but her absence certainly left the two remaining partners with more than they were accustomed to handling. A headache was in his very near future, of that he was certain. *Please, God... not again...* The silent prayer went Heavenward that those headaches were not returning. The headaches nothing seemed to ease. The headaches he could barely think through, let alone work through. Headaches that left him dizzy and confused afterwards, with little if any recollection of his actions.

He hadn't had one for weeks, and was at last beginning to feel like himself again. He was focusing better at work, regaining a little of the weight he seemed to have lost, and was spending more quality time with his kids. Nicole had been surprisingly accommodating when it came to visitations with the monsters. Of course, he still had to call Annie and have her arrange things, since his ex was yet to resume speaking to him. However, she was yet to deny him access to the children for any reason, and for that he was grateful. He was aware Kermit had been using her as an outsource for some of their more complicated, time- consuming investigations. He was equally aware that she only called the office during the hours their part- time receptionist was in residence, and had her calls transferred directly to Griffin. For the past several weeks, Peter had taken to snatching up the phone during those hours, attempting the beat the receptionist on the off chance that his ex-wife was on the line, claiming force of habit when caught. He suspected the two hang-ups he'd received were indeed her.

*Enough already... she doesn't want to talk to me,* he reminded himself as he reached for his empty mug and made his way towards the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

Peter could hear his partner on the phone from where he stood in the reception area, refilling his cup. Old habits never died, and the moment Kermit's voice lowered, Peter's ears picked up.

"Do your parents have the kids?..... Okay... good.... No, I'll be over in about an hour. You sure that's all you need me to bring? That's all you want?"

Peter added a small amount of milk to his coffee, quietly closing the door to the small refrigerator beneath the water cooler. The one-sided conversation had caught his attention.

"Stop being a stubborn ass.... Get back in bed and I'll be there as soon as I can... I haven't told anyone, but just because I happen to be good at keeping secrets doesn't mean I like doing it... "

*Shit, is he having an affair?* The idea flashed through Peter's mind before he could halt it.

"...especially when I'm keeping the secret from a friend."

*What the Hell...?* Peter felt his heart begin to sink. *Kermit's following in my footsteps? Screwing up his marriage?* He heard the phone return to its' cradle and poked his head into the inner office, to see his partner powering down his computer.

The ex-mercenary shook his head and muttered something under his breath before looking up. "Gotta run out for a while..." he offered, snatching his keys up off the desk.

"Where are you going?" Peter asked, moving out of the doorway.

"Out."

"Business? Something I should know about?" the younger detective asked, now keeping pace with his partner as he moved through the outer office.

Kermit stopped, but did not turn to face his friend. He took a deep breath. Peter was more 'himself' lately. Six months earlier he could have set fire to the building and the other man would hardly have noticed. He almost wished this was one of those days. "No. It's personal."

Peter moved in front of the man. "Anything wrong?"

The reply was long in coming. "Nothing serious. Just running an errand for a friend."

"Anyone I know?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee, and not moving.

"What's with the twenty questions, Pete?" Kermit sighed.

Peter stared at his partner and long time friend, irritated, not for the first time, at the inability to establish eye contact through those damn glasses. "Don't do it, Kermit..."

"Don't do what?" he asked, genuine confusion in his voice.

"The other woman. Don't do it. I overheard part of your phone conversation and I'm telling you from personal experience, it's not worth it. Karen loves you, you've got a great kid, don't screw it up. Ten months from now you'll be alone, wondering what the Hell possessed you to do it, and missing your family to death."

Despite the seriousness on his younger friend's face, there was laughter threatening to bubble up inside him at the mere thought as Griffin attempted to move around Peter. "Not having an affair, Pete. Honest. Least of all with this woman."

Not to be brushed off, he moved in front of Kermit again. "Then what's all this talk about keeping secrets, and telling her to get back in bed?"

*Oh, shit...* Kermit groaned inwardly. The kid was waiting for an answer, but he knew it would be the death of him if he spilled this one. "It's a sick friend," he finally confessed.

"Sick?"

Kermit nodded sadly. "Very. And I have to go help her out for a couple of hours. Now, I gotta go." He attempted to slip past the other man, and out the door before he had a chance to ask any further questions.

"So, what's all the secrecy for then?" Peter asked the old mercenary's retreating back.

He didn't receive an answer.

PART 9
DR. KERMIT, I PRESUME?

Kermit let himself into the large Colonial with his spare key, carrying the paper bag from the deli in his free hand. The house was quiet. Perfectly silent, in fact, which was something he'd never seen before. With three children generally in residence, constant motion and noise was more the norm. The stillness of the home was unnerving. "It's just me..." he called up the stairs as he headed into the kitchen.

He didn't receive an answer from upstairs, not that he'd expected one. In the kitchen, he took a bowl down from the oak cabinet and dug a spoon out of a drawer, reaching as unerringly for everything as though in his own home. The chicken soup was still steaming as he poured it into the bowl and placed it on a small tray. A glass of orange juice soon kept the bowl company. Taking a deep breath, Griffin headed for the stairs.

The door to the master bedroom was open. The shades were drawn against the gray light of the foggy afternoon, the television providing the only real illumination. A lump under the comforter on the enormous bed was his only indication of occupancy. "Anybody home?" he asked softly, entering the room.

A muffled groan came from beneath the covers, "...Mmmmmph...."

Setting the tray down on the nightstand, Kermit settled on the edge of the king sized bed. "That good, huh?"

The 'patient' had yet to appear from under the comforter. "... shoot me now...."

"I'm the wrong person to say that to, even in jest..." Her former partner chuckled uneasily. "Threw your sister out of here as soon as she brought you home, did you?"

".... she kept trying to hug me..."

"Yeah... well, no fear of that with me..." he assured her, reclining in a more comfortable position next to the lump. "Tough to get old...?"

A head at last appeared beside him. The dark hair was in a state of chaos, and the face it partially hid was pale as the sheets. "Bite me, Griffin. And don't put your dirty shoes on my blankets..."

"Oh yeah... you'll live..." he teased. Though his tone remained light, he was glad he'd kept his glasses on. He wouldn't want his friend to see his reaction. "Brought you some Jewish Penicillin..."

The bloodshot gray eyes turned up to him. "Thanks, maybe later."

Resting back on one elbow, Kermit wouldn't allow her to see how uncomfortable he was at that moment. "Treatment really knocked the shit outta ya, didn't it?"

"...did..." she nodded reluctantly.

"You know, I barely got out of the office without an escort. Pete thinks I'm having an affair, or something."

The barest hint of a smile appeared on her pale features. "We're in bed together...." She managed a wink for him.

"No. You're in bed. I'm ON the bed..." he corrected her. "And I can't lie to him forever."

"Not asking you to," Nicole asserted, pulling herself out from under the covers a little more. "Just til this is over. Then you can tell anyone you want to."

"I don't see what the big deal about telling him is, Nicole."

"He'd probably throw a fucking party. And then not invite me."

"You might be surprised. He's changed a lot over the past couple of months. Even just the past couple of weeks... the anger is gone. He's showing up for appointments. He's more like his old self again."

"Good for him..." she snapped tiredly, closing her eyes again, and hoping to close the subject as easily.

Kermit knew he was walking through a field full of land mines. He approached the subject with just as much caution. "Just this morning he was advising me not to screw up my marriage the way he did his. He's been talking a lot lately about regrets. And, about headaches. And, about forgetting things... I think our original assumption that there was something wrong with him was accurate."

"... would have loved to have believed that, Kermit. Doctors gave him a clean bill of health. No drugs in his system... " she repeated wearily.

"The doctors in Palm Beach said that..." he nodded. "What if they were wrong?"

"He went to the doctor here, too..." Nicole reminded him, growing frustrated.

Kermit voiced an idea, which had been nagging at him for quite a few months. "He says he did..."

The former Mrs. Caine cracked one eye open and focused on him. "What are you saying?"

PART 10
HOLES IN THE YARD

Kermit didn't even bother ringing the bell, or knocking. The door was unlocked, and he let himself in, apprehensive about whatever was so important that Nicole's call had taken him away from work in the middle of the afternoon. "Nicole?" he called loudly, not seeing or hearing anything moving in the house.

"Out here!" came the response from the backyard.

The detective groaned as he followed the sound of the voice and caught sight of the four of them. Dressed in black, once again, gathered around a small hole in the ground. Cait clutched a black shoebox in her small hands.

The little girl looked up, hearing his approach, and he knew it was too late to bolt. "Uncle Kermit!" she sniffled, her gray eyes shining with tears.

His glasses hid the dirty look he shot at the girl s mother. The man who used to kill people for a living drew his goddaughter to his side. "What happened, Munchkin?" he asked softly.

"Bertie..." was all she was able to get out before her lower lip began to tremble and the tears started.

"Birdy?" Kermit repeated, looking askance of Nicole as he hugged Cait and tried to get the tears stopped.

"Bertie..." she corrected, pointing at the box. "That was her parakeet's name."

Kermit winced, wondering how this pet had met its' demise.

"Bertie wan'ned to go scuba divin' in the fish pond wif Barbie...." Cait finally managed to choke out past her tears.

Kermit fought desperately to tamp down on the burst of laughter he felt welling up in his chest.

********

'Uncle' Kermit stayed for hot chocolate following the funeral ceremony, at Cait's 'request'. "Oh yeah..." he smirked at his old friend as they stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter sipping their hot chocolate. "That's your daughter, all right..."

"What's that supposed to mean, Griffin?"

"Her invitation to stay sounded like the order of a prison camp general."

"She does have a way with people..." her mother sighed.

"Just like her mom."

"Oh, kiss my ass...." she muttered with a half smile, once certain that the children were well out of earshot.

"Think I'll pass on that one..." he smiled, polishing off his mug of chocolate. "You look like you're feeling better..." he commented quietly.

"I am. Still a little tired, but not nearly as bad. Got a checkup at the end of the week."

"Good. Let me know what they say. You know, much as I enjoy a good pet burial... *not*... I think Peter's the one who should have been here. Not me."

"Don't start."

"In fact, I think maybe you call me to come over for the things as sort of a substitute. A stand-in."

"Kermit..." she sighed. "Don't start playing shrink. I called you because Cait wouldn't put the bird in the ground without Uncle Kermit being here."

"Nicole..." Kermit pursued. "It's all right to admit that you still have feelings for him. You two were married for a long time... you've got a family. Neither of you has moved on with your lives..."

Nicole walked to the door leading off the kitchen to the den and stole a glance at the three children playing quietly. Then she closed the door and turned back to her old partner. "You do some digging?" she asked apprehensively.

"I did," he nodded.

"And?"

"And I would have been here yesterday except that MY wife is threatening me with divorce if I don't start spending a little more time at home."

Nicole winced. "God, I'm sorry, Kermit. Between the two of us we've been monopolizing your life, haven't we?"

"Yes..." he nodded. "But I'd like to think that either of you would do the same for me."

"You know we would. We've always watched each other's backs."

Kermit nodded, accepting the words at face value. "My friend says she needs the details. I'm assuming you didn't turn over everything to him."

"Of course not. I kept copies..." she replied, turning and walking quickly out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her study, Kermit in tow. Digging through a stack of diskettes, she pulled out the one that was labeled "Peter", and handed it to him. "I don't know if this is going to help, but I wish we'd done this months ago," she confessed.

"So do I. If there's anything to be found, my friend will find it."

"And then what?" Nicole asked, unable to conceal the uncertainty in her voice.

"Then we move on. If she doesn't find anything, you're no worse off than you were before. And if she does... then the two of you sit down and talk. For once. At gunpoint if necessary."

**********

Peter winced at the sound of the knock at his door. *Damnit, Pop... you couldn't have left a forwarding address for these people?* Even after almost a year, strangers were still coming by the apartment, looking for Caine. The younger Caine was growing weary of explaining to people that he was not *that* Caine, and could barely help himself at that point, let alone anyone else. He pulled open the door, putting on his most polite smile. His polite smile turned into a surprised one at the sight of his old partner. "Jody?"

"Hey..." she grinned at him as she brushed by, assuming an invitation, as had always been the case. "I was just on my way home, and was stopping to pick up some dinner and thought, 'What the heck?' So I got two orders instead." She held out the bag in offering.

"And I was just sitting here wondering what was still edible in the fridge..." he laughed, accepting the offered food with gratitude. "Have a seat and I'll dig us up some dishes and silverware."

Jody wandered into the apartment, noting that he'd changed nothing since the last time she'd been by. The place still looked like his father lived there, and no one else, save for he small portable TV. She'd come by several times in the months since his divorce, but this was the first time that she'd genuinely felt welcome. Like the old days. The days before his marriage. "So, how's work? How's life?" she asked as he returned with the plates and began dishing out the lasagna and garlic bread from their tin containers.

"All right, I guess..." he shrugged, settling down with his dinner. "How about you?"

"Work? Busy as anything. Crime never takes a holiday around here. Life in general? Boring. Boring, boring, boring. Poker games every Tuesday night, which, by the way, you're still always invited to... the occasional drink at Delancy's with the usual crowd... other than that - nada."

"No action with the opposite sex?" he teased.

"Sure... I arrested six of them last week. Does that count?"

Peter laughed. "No."

"Thanks a lot... How about you? Anyone new in your life?" she asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Peter's expression sobered as he suddenly found his fork infinitely fascinating. "Nah. Skalany tried to fix me up with some friend of hers last week, but..."

"But?"

"I thought I was going to meet Skalany for drinks and she throws this women with a biological time-bomb ticking away at me."

Jody winced in sympathy. "Ouch..."

"I got out of there pretty quick. Think I ticked Skalany off, but I've told her before, I'm not ready. I don't want to do it."

"Date?"

The former cop nodded. "I just don't want to. I'd feel like I was cheating..."

"But you're not. You're divorced... a free man...." she reminded him gently.

Peter raised his eyes to hers. "Not in my heart. Jody... I need to talk to somebody, and I can't talk to Kermit..."

PART 11
DISCOVERY

Peter smiled politely in greeting as he entered the Griffin-Caine office Monday morning. Their part-time receptionist, Angie, was at her desk already, sorting through the stacks of mail that had come in over the weekend. The coffee was brewed, and a welcome sight to the detective's eyes. "Morning, Angie."

"Good morning, Mr. Caine," the young blonde responded, holding out a handful of opened envelopes to him.

Peter reached for them, his reach for his coffee mug aborted. "What's this?" he asked, looking curiously at her.

Angie smiled indulgently at him, "The mail."

"Yeah, I can see it's the mail," he half laughed. "But why do *I* have it? These look like bills."

The receptionist handed him a pink slip of paper from her message pad. "Because Mr. Griffin called this morning. He's taking this week off. Orders from 'his boss'."

"His...? Oh." Understanding finally, Peter nodded with a forced smile. Filling his mug, he took the pile of bills into his office, and closed the door. Karen had evidently 'had it' with Kermit spending so much time in the office, and off on the secret errands he'd yet to clue Peter in on.

Settling down behind his desk with a sigh of resignation, Peter stared at the bills. Generally Kermit took care of the books and the bills. *Except that HE has a life...* Peter reminded himself. Taking a sip of coffee and flipping idly through the bills, eyeing invoices halfheartedly, his mind slipped back to his trip to the Blaisdell's the night before. He'd brought the three kids back to Paul and Annie's as usual, late in the afternoon, and stayed for dinner with them, leaving just before Nicole was due to pick them up. So far he had respected her wishes, and made disappeared before her arrival every Sunday night. Each week he'd linger longer and longer after dinner, part of him hoping she would show up early. Annie had finally cornered him on it last night. Maybe it was time. They couldn't keep avoiding each other forever. And Peter no longer wanted to. The anger he inexplicably felt toward her months ago had dissipated, leaving only an empty ache. He missed her. Next Friday, he'd decided, he would be there when she arrived with the kids. Even if she yelled at him... he didn't care. He wanted to see her.

"I wouldn't be expecting a warm welcome, if I were you..." Paul quietly warned.

Peter had shrugged, with a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Her first words to me were 'Nice to meet you... what the Hell are you looking at?'" he laughed. "She hated me when we first met. I'm used to it."

The former police Captain shook his head, his blue eyes fixed sadly on his foster son. "Peter, I wouldn't push it with Nicole. She's been great about letting you have the kids during the week when you want them, and she's watched what she's said about you around them all this time. You don't want to have a big, screaming blowout with her here in front of them. Not to mention the fact that I think she's taken to carrying a gun again..." he half teased.

There was a fondness to Peter's smile Paul hadn't seen in a long time. "I know I'm not her favorite person in the world right now, Paul. But you don't know her the way I do. I know it was hard for you to think of her as a wife and a mother... if anyone had told *me* that when I first met her, I wouldn't have believed it. But there's so much more to her than what she shows the world. There's a side to her that I honestly believe only the kids and I have seen. The side of her that makes goofy faces at the kids to make them stop crying. The side that watches sad movies when no one else is home. And the side that hopes someone won't pull away when she warns them that they're touching her...." he laughed softly. "I want to see her."

Paul stood in silence for several long heartbeats. "Peter..." he began, hesitantly. "Do you have regrets about the divorce?"

The reply was quiet but immediate and sure. "Every minute of every day..."

Peter's eyes caught sight of an envelope from their insurance company, and pulled him back into the present. With a groan. If there was one thing he was grateful that Kermit handled, it was the company insurance. He didn't even really want to know what they were paying in premiums to cover himself, Kermit, Nicole and the kids. Part of the deal when Nicole had left the agency was that she and the kids would still be under the policy. Peter assumed she still mailed in a check every month as her contribution.

The frustrated detective was tempted to leave the thing in its' envelope for his partner to deal with, but inches away from the "Kermit deal with this," pile, his hand halted. *Shit, he's had enough to deal with the last year with me... least I can do is tear my hair out over this junk for him once every twelve months or so...* He took the folded sheets from the envelope and began to scan them. And stopped. He hadn't been in the hospital in months, and Kermit certainly hadn't... yet line after line ran down the page. Dates and claims. No details as to the specific causes or complaints... just dates and claims. Lots of them.

Peter's trembling hand released the paper as his heart began to sink. He knew who Kermit's sick friend was, and had a pretty good idea what all those mysterious errands were.

PART 11
WHEN FRIENDS DROP BY

The angry pounding on the door roused Kermit from his bed. It was late morning, and he'd hoped it would be afternoon at the earliest before he'd have to leave the comfort of their room. His trained ears had picked up and identified the sound of the Stealth as it pulled up and parked out in front of the house.

"What is it?" Karen asked, feeling him tense suddenly.

"Peter's here..." he muttered in resignation.

The tension in Karen's body instantly matched and surpassed that in Kermit's. "He can't handle even a few hours without you?" she asked tightly.

"I will go see what's wrong, and I will get rid of him... I promise..." her husband grumbled as he slid from beneath the covers and grabbed for his robe.

The pounding on the door continued, growing more insistent. Kermit flung the door open to find Peter standing on the top stair, his face flushed, his eyes flashing with subtle fear and anger. "Peter..." Kermit sighed.

The younger partner brushed by him and into the living room without waiting for invitation, something few living people had the nerve or the good sense to do. Kermit was poised to verbally slap him back into place when he caught a glimpse of the envelope he clutched in his hand. He could hear the sound of the day being flushed down the toilet.

Peter held out the insurance forms. "I want to know what this is about..." he said in a low tone, enunciating each word slowly and clearly.

"Just some medical bills..." Kermit shrugged, reaching for them.

The younger man held the forms away from his friend. "I know they're not mine, and I know they're not yours. I'd know if one of the kids had been sick... so that leaves Nicole. Now you can either tell me what's wrong... or I'll go find out myself." Peter's voice had taken on a razor sharp edge.

Kermit stood silent, torn between loyalties and best interests.

Peter could see the conflict going on behind his eyes, which were, for once, not hidden by his glasses. "Kermit. Please.... why all the trips to the doctor... to the hospital..?"

The elder man cleared his throat, and averted his eyes slightly. "She's been sick," he offered quietly.

"How sick? What's wrong with Nicole?" Peter asked, drawing closer.

Kermit brought one hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger as he lost the battle. Not telling Peter had been one thing, a direct lie to his face was another. "She's got cancer, Pete."

Peter swallowed hard as the world came to a screeching halt. Primal feeling took control as reason and sense let go. In a movement as swift as a cobra's strike, Peter lashed out, throwing the ex-mercenary against the wall and pinning him there. "YOU KNEW!!!" The words tore painfully from his throat. "You knew ALL THIS TIME and you didn't TELL ME! SHE'S MY WIFE!!!" Peter shouted, cold reality slapping him in the face at Kermit's reply.

Kermit broke free from the hold without injuring his friend and moved out of reach. "She s not your wife anymore, Peter!" he bellowed. "That s it. I'm sick of being caught in the middle of this! The last time I mentioned her by name you nearly tore my throat out - and she didn't want you to know she was sick."

Still clutching the insurance bills in his hand, Peter stormed out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.

Karen's voice from the staircase took him by surprise. "I take it he won't be staying for breakfast?"

"I would say that's a safe bet..." he muttered, picking up the cordless phone. "Better warn Nicole she may be having company today..."

Karen moved down the stairs and snatched the phone out of his hand, firmly placing it back into its' charger. "She's a big girl, she can take care of herself. It's time to get out of the middle of this."

Kermit looked down into the flashing eyes of the petite police Captain he'd married, and nodded. "You're right. That friend of mine should have the work-up from Peter's chart done in a few days, and I'll let both of them know what the results are... and let them handle things from there."

************

The Mustang was in the driveway. Peter sat in the Stealth, across from the house, numbly wondering what he was going to do now that he was there. Cancer. The word echoed in his head... over and over... He waited to see if she would come out of the house... but she didn't. Car in the driveway. Flowers blooming in the bed beneath windows, which were open, letting the fresh, warm air circulate... everything looked so normal. Except that the woman who lived there had cancer. How bad it was, he had no idea, but so long as he sat out in the car, instead of going to the door, he could hold the hope in his heart that it was nothing life-threatening.

The soft tap on his passenger window jumpstarted his heart as he turned quickly, and came face to face with his ex-wife, separated only by the tempered glass. Peter thumbed the switch to lower the window, then stopped, opting for the door handle instead. On shaky legs he rose out of the car, and stood looking over the roof at her, his voice not wanting to cooperate.

PART 12
CHANCE MEETINGS

"Peter? What are you doing here?" the young woman half smiled at him.

With a start, Peter realized it was not his ex-wife at all he was looking at, but her sister, Monique. His heart dropped as he forced a smile to his face and attempted to stop his hands from shaking. "Hi, Monique. I was just... driving by and I thought..." he shrugged casually.

His former sister-in-law cast him a knowing look and nodded. "She's not here."

"But.... her car..." Peter pointed to the Mustang.

"We swapped cars for a few days. I was, umm... attempting to impress someone. I just came by return it, but she's still out. How have you been?" she asked, moving around to the other side of the car.

"Me? I'm fine. Look, Monique..." Peter took a deep breath and plunged in. "I just found out about Nicole. How is she? Is she all right?"

The younger version of his ex-wife's expression fell. "Peter, I'm sorry, but... she'd have my head if she found out I was talking to anyone about that. Especially you."

"Where is she, Monique?" he asked, refusing to be turned away completely.

"The note she left for me said she had some errands to run. Picking up the twins from school, the grocery store..."

Peter nodded and slid back behind the wheel of the car. "Thanks. I owe you."

*******

The supermarket was crowded for a weekday afternoon, but it wasn't hard for Peter to spot his ex-wife and three children. Peter began throwing items into the carriage he'd grabbed upon entering, carefully weaving his way through the other shoppers. Frozen pizzas joined frozen burritos, boxes of macaroni and cheese piled on top of the frozen goods as he closed the distance.

Half an aisle away he halted his haphazard shopping and stopped to observe his quarry. Even from where he stood he could see the effects her illness had had on her. Except for the duration of her pregnancies, his wife had never carried so much as an extra pound on her lithe frame, making the recent weight loss all the more noticeable. Dark circles stood out beneath her eyes despite the concealer she wore. She looked tired... and she was still the most beautiful woman in the store. The first time he'd laid eyes on her at the 101st, he'd thought to himself she looked like she could use a friend... and she'd bitten his head off. He was having that same thought again... and knew he was probably about to have his head bitten off again. *God, Nick... I'm sorry I haven't been here.* Gathering his courage, Peter waited for a clear shot and steered his cart back in her direction, headed on a collision course with his ex.

Peter bumped his cart into hers, the clang of metal and slight jarring breaking her attention away from the argument the twins were having over breakfast cereals. Cait spotted him as soon as her mother turned to snap at the impolite shopped. "Hey, watch where you're..."

"Daddy!!!!!" Cait blurted out, charging her father.

Nicole halted in mid-sentence, looking in astonishment at her ex-husband's apologetic expression as he stooped to catch his eldest daughter in his arms. "Sorry, wasn't looking where I was going."

The awkward silence stretched between them. "No harm done." Nicole finally conceded, once her voice began to cooperate again.

"You're sure?" he asked, a glint of humor in his hazel eyes. "Maybe we should exchange insurance information."

The words were coming out of her mouth without any apparent thought, her speech center now thankfully operating on autopilot. "No, that's okay. Don't want them upping my premiums."

Peter held on to Cait, pausing to greet his other two children with one-armed hugs. "How are you?" he asked his ex, hoping his words sounded casual as he moved out of the flow of traffic.

She could feel his eyes on her, and was instantly self-conscious of her appearance. She knew full well that she looked like she'd been through the wringer at least once. "Fine. Just fine. You?" she returned politely, infinitely aware of the children staring at the two of them.

"I'm hanging in there..." he nodded.

"Surprised to run into you here," Nicole commented, letting her eyes meet his for a moment.

Peter held the eye contact. "Just stocking up on a few things. Looks like you're shopping for an army."

Nicole glanced down to her cart, full of meat and fish, vegetables, cereals, fresh fruit... then to Peter's cart, full of microwave junk. "Growing kids. Looks like you're shopping for a couple of teenagers."

Peter laughed, though the laughter didn't touch his eyes. "Never have learned to cook. Not like you anyway."

Cait turned away from her father for only a minute, long enough to pin her mother with large soulful eyes. "Daddy can come to dinner at my house?"

Nicole inwardly cringed. She wasn't prepared for this in the least. Seeing him standing only a few feet away was hard enough on the neutral ground of the grocery store... having him in their house - her house - was something entirely different. So far Kermit hadn't heard any conclusions from his friend as far as Peter's possible condition was concerned, and Nicole had no idea what kind of ground they were standing on. Hoping to bow out as gracefully and non-confrontational as possible, she smiled at Cait, "Honey, I'm sure your dad is very busy... maybe another time."

"No, no..." Peter interjected. "No plans at all, free as a bird, and hungry as a bear..." he laughed, tickling his daughter. His eyes went back to Nicole, a warm smile on his face. "Six o'clock?"

Nicole stood staring at him in abject disbelief. If she said "No," she would wind up being the bad guy in front of the kids, again. After Peter had moved out, she'd vowed to keep their problems as separate from the kids as possible. She'd yet to speak a harsh word about him in front of them in over a year. And at times it had been almost painful. Exhausted as she was, she had no energy for the tantrums that would follow should she negate her daughter's invitation. "Six," she confirmed.

Peter's eyes lit up in hope. "Good! Can I bring anything?"

"Think I've got everything covered. Come on, Cait, we need to get home." She held her hand out to her daughter.

"No, I stay with Daddy," Cait insisted as she clung more tightly to her father.

"It's okay with me," Peter assured Nicole. "I'll just bring her with me when I come for dinner." Cait had just provided him with insurance that Nicole wouldn't call and cancel on him as soon as she got home.

The former detective sighed tiredly. "Fine. I'll see you at 6:00." Picking up Bethany and settling her into the seat in the cart, she took Paul by the hand and headed off for the registers. She cast her eyes Heavenward, *Really got a weird sense of humor, don't You?*

PART 14
GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER

Just before six o'clock, Peter pulled the Stealth into the driveway in front of the house. Cait unfastened her seat belt and tore out of the car, running at full speed up the lawn and into the house, screaming at the top of her considerable voice, "DADDY'S HOME!!!"

Nicole winced at the sound of the scream, though appreciating the enthusiasm behind it. She peered out of the kitchen to see Paul and Bethany both greeting their father at the door. He knelt in the foyer, arms around the three kids, a contented smile on his face. It used to be a familiar sight to her. She ducked back into the kitchen before he noticed her stare.

For the past three hours she'd been cleaning the house and preparing dinner, all the while dreading his arrival. There had been no calls from Kermit, and his phones were all currently going unanswered. Worst of all was the news that had awaited her when she'd returned from the store. Her sister had informed her that Peter had been to the house, and had known she was 'sick'. The chance meeting in the grocery store had been orchestrated. She could only speculate on his reasons for initiating contact after a year of silence, and none of the reasons she came up with were of any comfort.

Putting the final touches on the tossed salad, she started bringing food out to the table.

"Hi. Need help?" Peter offered, rising from the floor when he heard her enter the next room.

"No, thanks. Everything's ready, I just have to bring it out," she replied politely. She could feel the weight of eyes upon her. The twins remembered clearly the amount of fighting that had gone on in the house last year, leading to their father going to live somewhere else. Cait, being most strongly attached to and possessive of her father, had of course blamed her mother for the entire thing. Paul, on the other hand, seemed somewhat reluctant to show his father any affection at all that year, remembering more clearly how he'd made his mother cry. They both now watched their parents closely, as though waiting for the fighting to erupt afresh.

Peter moved quickly towards the kitchen, "Let me help, okay?"

Nicole watched the kitchen door swing shut behind him, and stood in the dining room, realizing that if she followed him into the kitchen, she would be alone with him. Taking a deep breath and plastering a neutral expression on her face, she pushed the door open and joined him.

Peter had begun carving the pot roast already, making himself as busy and helpful as he could to ward off the bought of nerves he was having. He'd had second thoughts about picking up the carving knife at all, knowing he was likely as not to cut himself accidentally with it, his hands were that unsteady. Seconds ticked by like small eternities as he waited to hear the door open behind him, for the footsteps approaching.

*What are you doing here, Peter?* Nicole repeated over and over to herself as she silently gathered salad dressing, salt and pepper and the bowl of mashed potatoes in her hands.

Peter turned his head to watch her. "Everything looks great. Usually I have to beg home-cooked meals off of Mom."

Nicole stopped halfway out of the kitchen and turned back to her ex-husband. "Why are you here, Peter?" she asked, keeping her temper in check. Her emotions were in upheaval having him back in the house again, if even only for dinner. *Maybe the divorce happened because he was sick...* she kept trying to remind herself, and fight against hoping at the same time. *Maybe he's just a dog...* her cynical side kicked in. *And maybe he just wants to see if I'm really gonna croak...*

The expression on his face told her he wasn't any more ready to answer the question than she was to hear the response. "I wanted to see you," he replied quietly, standing his ground. "To talk to you."

"You want to talk to me about how you've been prying into my private medical files?"

"I didn't do that, Nick. Honestly, I didn't. I found out completely by accident..." he insisted, setting the carving knife aside and moving toward her.

"Kermit didn't spill it?" she asked, suspicion in her eyes.

"No. He wouldn't do that and you know it. I'm glad he was here for you though..." he added softly.

"Glad he didn't spill it, or he woulda been one dead Muppet..."

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. *Same old Nick.* "Can we talk? Please?"

"Not in the same room with all the cutlery." With a brief, almost indiscernible nod, she turned and started out of the kitchen. "After dinner," she replied. Half way to the table she spotted something in Cait's arms. "Peter? What's Cait got?" she asked quietly.

Peter cast her a sheepish grin, "A kitten... I know I should have asked you first, but we were going by the pet shop on the way here and she just fell in love."

"Terrific... I'll keep the shovel handy..." she grumbled.

PART 15
TOGETHER AND APART

The conversation over dinner was stilted and awkward. Both adults found it more comfortable to speak around each other, conversing freely with the children who chattered endlessly about school and friends. Cait held her kitten on her lap for the duration of the meal, infinitely thrilled with both the gift, and her father's presence in the house.

Peter had second helpings of everything, and thirds of some, his hunger for real food, and desire to prolong the meal contributing to his unusual appetite. He talked and laughed with the kids, listening to their stories, though there was a knot forming in his stomach over the distance between himself and his former wife. The fact that she seemed to have little or no appetite at all nagged at him ceaselessly. She was already underweight... His chest tightened painfully at the thought of seeing her slowly disappearing. With no idea how serious her condition really was, he couldn't halt the worst possible scenarios from running through his mind. By the end of the meal, Peter had no desire for dessert.

Nicole insisted on clearing the table herself, none too eager to be alone with her ex and his questions. While she cleaned up the dinner debris, Peter accompanied the kids out into the backyard. There, he got his first glimpse of Cait's burgeoning Pet Cemetery.

"Burpy?" he repeated, thinking he surely must have misheard his daughter.

"Uh-huh..." she nodded seriously, dropping down beside him where he sat on the ground beneath the willow tree.

Peter's arm went around her shoulders, his chin resting on the top of her head. "What happened to... Burpy, sweetheart?" he asked sympathetically.

The five-year old shrugged, leaning against her favorite parent. "He wann'ed to fly..." she explained.

"...fly?" Peter asked, almost dreading the answer.

Cait nodded. "Uh-huh... " She pointed up at her bedroom window. "So I did like a momma bird and pushed him outta the nest..."

Peter winced, grateful she couldn't see his face. "Honey... hamsters don't have wings..."

"I know that... NOW..." she pouted. "But he wann'ed to do it... an' he looked like he thought he could... he was flappin' his legs...."

The mental picture came unbidden to his mind. Biting his lower lip seemed to help.

"He really thought he could..." she continued in an insistent voice. "He looked so s'prised..."

Peter's body began to shake with the unuttered laughter. His eyes were quickly tearing up when salvation came in the form of his ex-wife, coming out to corral Bethany for bed. "Come on, Bethany... time for jammies and bed..." she said softly, scooping up the toddler into her arms. Bethany giggled and squirmed in her mother's grasp, exhausted but willing to put up a humorous struggle just because she could. Peter observed the routine with a soft smile. He recalled the first time Karen Simms had put her adopted daughter, Holly, into Nicole's arms... and watched the ex-mercenary holding her as though the little girl was a bomb about the go off. She'd taken to motherhood with surprising ease, despite her fears.

"'Bout time for monsters to be in bed too..." he whispered to Cait, and to Paul who had wandered over to sit quietly at his side.

Cait looked up at him with adoring eyes, "You read the story..." she 'requested'.

*So much like her mother...* Peter mused. "Sure." He nodded, "You two go get into your PJ's and I'll be up in a minute." He looked up to see Nicole's reaction to this, but she had already disappeared into the house with their youngest. The twins scooted into the house after their mother, with a promise of a bedtime story from Dad.

**********

"Monsters asleep?" Nicole asked, glancing at the mantle clock as Peter came slowly down the stairs.

"Yeah, finally. Paul passed right out, but Cait... well, you know how she can hang in there until the end of the story."

Nicole nodded, sinking down onto the couch, tucking one long leg beneath her. They'd spent a lot of nights there in that living room, relaxing together after the kids were asleep. Peter would light a fire, turn the lights down low... sometimes they'd share a glass of wine or brandy... and they'd talk for a while before lapsing into a companionable silence, curled up on the couch together.

But that was then. They were now a divorced couple, seeing each other's faces, hearing each other's voices for the first time in over a year.

"Yeah, I know it very well..." she nodded. "You still haven't told me why you came over here today. Not really. If you came by because you found out I was sick, sorry to disappoint you, but it looks like I'm gonna make it..." she half joked.

Peter let out a long breath and let his head drop into his hands as he lowered himself onto the couch. "I was really scared..." he confessed quietly.

"Scared you'd have to do the single parent thing full-time?"

Peter looked up at her, "Damnit, Nick... don't even joke about this..."

The astonished expression was clear on her face. "Excuse me??? Since when do you give a shit anymore?" she snapped before she could stop herself. "It's MY life, and you walked out of it by your own choice. I don't really see where my health is any of your business."

Peter held up his hands in supplication, "Nicole, please... the last thing I came over here tonight to do was fight with you. You've been on my mind so much lately... and then I found out about... you know... and I had to see you. To talk to you. Talk, not fight... "

Regaining the reign on her emotions, she looked back at him. "It's been a long time."

"Too long," he agreed. "Are you all right? Really? Not just medically... "

"Yeah..." she replied after a long lapse.

"Because if you need anything... ever... I want you to call me. Any time, day or night..."

Nicole had the oddest sense of deja vu. "I'm sure your girlfriends would love that... your ex-wife calling you in the middle of the night for something..."

"They would if I had any. But I don't..." he admitted, trying desperately to catch her eyes. "I haven't been dating. At all. There hasn't been anyone since... since just before the divorce. And that was only one time... I swear."

Nicole kept her eyes averted. "We're divorced, you can date if you want to."

"...don't want to..."

The words were out despite her resolve not to say them. "You wanted to date while we were still married..."

"Nick, I deserve that, and more. Hit me with your best shots... nothing could hurt more than not being part of this life anymore... you and the kids... "

"Since when?" she asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. She wanted so badly to believe that the whole thing had been some nightmare.

Peter remained firm in his resolve to see this conversation through to the end, and without fighting. "Since always. I don't know what happened last year... but whatever it was, it cost me everything."

Nicole's shoulders sagged tiredly. "I can't do this. Not tonight. I absolutely, positively do *not* have the energy to do this tonight."

Peter nodded. At least she hadn't bitten his head off. Not in the last five minutes anyway. She'd looked wrung out since he'd seen her in the grocery store that afternoon. "I'll go... but I'd like to do this again. Dinner... or maybe you could join us for something over the weekend, the park, the zoo... anything. Or a movie..."

"I don't know. Maybe. We'll see." It was not the answer he'd wanted, and she could see that in his eyes, but it was the best she could do. It hurt more than she could have imagined to see him again, to have him in the house. He seemed so contrite, so sincere, and most of all, he seemed so.... so Peter.

"Can I pick the kids up here this weekend, instead of at Paul and Annie's?" he asked hopefully.

Nicole nodded, sitting back against the pillows on the couch. "Yeah. I guess there's no harm in that. Usual time..." she yawned.

Peter decided to leave while he was still ahead. "I'll see you Friday... and I'm serious, if there is anything at all that you need, call me. Day, or night. You can even call just to say 'hi' if you want..." he offered, moving off the couch and towards the hall, hating the fact that he was leaving that house. They'd bought that house together with every intention of raising their family there, together... of growing old there together... "G'night, Nick..." he said as his feet reluctantly moved him out the door.

PART 16
DETERMINATION

Peter's heart clenched painfully in his chest as the door opened. He'd seen the unfamiliar Jeep in the driveway, with Illinois plates. The owner of the vehicle now stood in the open doorway of what used to be Peter's home, smiling at him. "Hi, come on in..." the man invited, standing back to allow him entry.

Peter walked by him, into the foyer. There was a man in the house. It could only mean one thing. Nicole was dating again. She was really gone. "I, uh... I came to pick up the kids..." he said softly.

"I know. You're Peter, right?" the man asked as he extended his hand. "Doug Ross."

The detective forcibly uncurled the fist his hand had clenched into, and took hold of the other's hand. "Nice to meet you..." The words came out mechanically.

"Nicole's getting them ready, said they'd all be down in a minute. Women... always waiting for them..." Doug smiled pleasantly. He could feel Peter's eyes begin picking him apart. "You know... hair... makeup..." he continued uncomfortably.

"Nick never wore much makeup... she doesn't need it..." Peter replied in a hushed voice.

Doug shook his head. "No, she doesn't. Neither does Monique, but I'm always waiting for her..."

The awkward silence that followed seemed to stretch on for an eternity. "M-Monique?"

Doug leaned casually against the wall by the stairs and nodded. "Yeah. Movie's supposed to start in a half hour, and I have a feeling we're not going to make it if she doesn't hurry."

"Monique?" Peter repeated. "You're going to the movies with Monique? Monique is here?"

The smile returned to the other man's face. "Well, Nicole is tagging along, but yeah, I'm going to..." the smile became a short laugh in mid-sentence as Doug realized what Peter had been thinking. "Oh, no. You thought Nicole and I...? Ohhh no." He shook his head emphatically. "She was the one that introduced me to her sister. I'm in pediatrics at County, met your ex-wife a couple of weeks ago when Bethany had the flu." The laughter erupted briefly again. "Me dating Nicole. No, I make a living using my hands, can't afford to lose any fingers."

Half out of relief, Peter joined in the laughter.

"Hi, Peter." Nicole cast him a slight smile in greeting from above. Her eyes took in his attire - black jeans, a black tee shirt and tan sport jacket. Her gaze lingered over him for a long moment as she moved down the stairs. It was surprising to her to find the attraction was definitely still there in full force. Knowing what he looked like beneath the jeans and shirt wasn't helping to cool that attraction any. "Monsters are all ready for you."

"Got plans tonight, huh?" he asked as he picked up the overnight bags she'd set by the door.

"Lethal Weapon 4 and then a quick drink with Monique and Doug," she nodded.

Peter chuckled. "You'll love it. Great flick, and the bad guy looks so much like Lo Si you'd swear it was him."

"No kidding." She laughed. "How is the Ancient, anyway?"

"Fine. He just got back into town last month... So, I guess I'd better go and let you get to your movie. Tell Monique I said 'Hi," okay?"

"Will do. Have the monsters back before bedtime Sunday night," she reminded him.

******

The weekend passed quickly for Peter, as they all had for the past year. The three kids ran him ragged, and by bedtime he was more ready for bed than they were. He tried calling the Griffin house several times. Each time only their answering machine and an ever-lengthening beep at the end of the message had greeted him. After checking and re-checking his calendar on Sunday, Peter had taken the kids shopping with him. Keeping their hands off all the pretty, shiny merchandise in the jewelry store hadn't been easy, but he hadn't wound up paying for anything he hadn't intended to pay for. The clerk had wrapped the velvet box he now had in his pocket for him, leaving him only to buy a cake, and a card.

"Momma doesn't like surprises..." Paul warned his father.

"She only says she doesn t." Peter answered in an exaggerated whisper, winking at his children. "But we're going to make sure this is a birthday she doesn't forget." He was actually positive this year he really would be surprising her, since this was the first year he'd actually gotten the date right. "I'll even let you guys decide on what to write on the cake, okay?"

"Okaaaaayyy..." Paul grinned up at his father. "But Momma doesn't like surprises."

PART 17
SURPRISE

Nicole stretched out on the couch with a long yawn. Fresh from the shower, her long dark hair still damp, she finally felt 'clean' again. Touchy-feely, touchy-feely... she grumbled half-heartedly to herself, recalling the events of the afternoon. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the effort her parents had gone to in arranging the birthday celebration for her. But, all those out of town relatives and friends of the family, all wanting to hug her made her teeth itch. All day long, people smiling and touching, grinning and hugging... it had been almost too much to bear. *Oh, Lord... and the next birthday only 12 months away...* She closed her eyes against the thought itself. The clock on the mantle struck six and the divorced mother of three smiled. She enjoyed the quiet solitude of her weekends alone up to a certain point, but it always brought a smile to her face to think that her monsters would soon be home.

The familiar sound of the Stealth rumbling up the driveway signaled the end to the peace and quiet, and she welcomed it. Nicole heard the car doors slam and had no more than sat up on the sofa before the front door burst open and three children stampeded into the house screaming, "SURPRISE!!!!!" and began singing "Happy Birthday" as her ex-husband followed them in. In his hands he carried a birthday cake.

"Ohhhhh, myyyyyyy God....." she muttered, the smile coming unbidden to her lips. She received the hugs from her brood with enthusiasm, more than a little surprised that Cait was showing her that measure of affection. "Peter? What is all this?" she asked in amazement, seeing him pulling out several small, wrapped packages from his long black coat.

"It's your birthday, that's what all this is." He grinned hopefully, setting the cake down on the coffee table in front of her. Picking a lighter from his pocket, he set the candles in the center of the cake aflame, and settled down on the couch next to her. "Happy Birthday. Make a wish and blow 'em out."

Cait, Paul and Bethany gathered around the small table, eager for her to make her wish, and then dish out the goodies. Nicole stared at her ex in wonder for a moment longer before closing her eyes and making her wish. Opening them again she took a deep breath and with effort exaggerated for the entertainment of the kids, blew out all the candles. Laughing at the applause of the three monsters, and the eager way they stared at the cake, she got up off the couch and headed for the kitchen. "I get the hint." She grinned back at them.

While the twins devoured their cake, and Bethany played with hers, Peter leaned across the couch and slipped a small package towards Nicole. "Open it."

Taking the beautifully wrapped box from him with an uncertain, but curious look, she began to unwrap it. A forest green velvet jewelers box emerged from the paper. "What is it?" she asked.

"Open it and see!" Peter laughed. She always wanted to know what was in a package before she opened it.

Taking a deep breath, as though half expecting the box to begin ticking and blow up in her face, she pulled it open. "Oh, my God..." she whispered, her eyes traveling from the contents of the box to her ex's face. His eyes were lit with the kind of glee she thought only children still held. "It's gorgeous...."

"Saw it in the store and knew you had to have it." Peter took the box from her hands and removed the delicate chain. The Fire Opal held her eyes before he slipped the chain around her neck, pulling back her thick hair and slowly fastening the clasp. "Happy birthday," he whispered.

Nicole turned back to him. "Thank you." She leaned close for a brief moment and lightly kissed his cheek. "It's beautiful."

Peter smiled and reluctantly moved away from her. "Let me give you a hand getting the monsters cleaned up and off to bed."

PART 18
KITTENS AND KOI

Peter knew he was in the house on borrowed time as he made his way quietly down the stairs. The cake had been demolished, dishes cleaned, and the monsters put to bed. The past few hours, though slightly awkward and strained, had been the best hours he'd spent in a long time. Not one harsh word had passed between himself and his ex-wife. Not once had he said the wrong thing, not once had she lashed out at him. Soon, though, his welcome would wear out and he would have to leave. "Sorry that took so long," he apologized, entering the living room again.

"Let me guess which one was trying to punch out Mr. Sandman," she replied with a wry smile.

"The one who takes after her mother." Peter laughed, settling down onto the couch next to her, closer than he'd been before.

"Hah, hah. You are so not funny." she scowled.

"I won't give up my day..." Peter's words trailed off as he spotted Cait's new kitten, a Norwegian Forest cat, scooting in from the kitchen, having just come in from the back yard. In the kitten's mouth was a rather large orange object. It was this orange object which snagged Peter's eye. "Son of a bitch's got one of my koi!" he growled, launching himself off the couch after the cat. Seeing her prey being eyed by the large human, Mimsan turned tail and fled back through the kitchen, out the open door and back into the yard to devour her catch in her new favorite hiding spot.

"Damnit..." Peter muttered, returning to the living room. "My koi pond is now a kitty fish market, open 24 hours a day."

Nicole had already dissolved into laughter, watching her ex trying to catch the fuzzball. "Want me to put them in a bowl for you to take home?" she chuckled, wiping her eyes.

Peter shot her a disapproving look in jest. "I worked really hard on that koi pond," he sulked.

"And the cat appreciates your hard labor." Nicole laughed, enjoying the break in the tension that had formed after the kids had been put down for the night.

Peter cast her a sideways glance before snaking a hand out, fingers headed directly for the tickle zones only he knew. "Think that's funny, do ya?" he growled as she shrieked, attempting to guard her zones. "Cat havin' a fresh fish dinner? Ya think that's funny???"

"NO!!! Not at aaaaaaallll!!!! MERCY!!!" she howled, unable to move fast enough to block his tickle- seeking fingers. "STOP!!!"

Peter moved quickly, closing the final gap between them and trapping her in his arms. "Kiss me and I'll stop..." he offered breathlessly, his eyes alight.

Nicole's smile faltered slightly, her mock struggles ceasing. "What?"

Peter realized he may have just overstepped as she pulled away. His expression fell.

"What are we doing here, Peter?" she asked, moving off the couch.

"Same thing we've always done, Nick. Enjoying ourselves. Enjoying each other. Can't you see the last couple of days have been different? How good it's felt being around each other again? I still love you, Nick." Peter blurted the words out, and held his breath during the long pause that followed.

"We're divorced, Peter," she reminded him needlessly.

"Then we have a problem. Because I still love you. And I believe that deep down, you still love me, no matter what happened between us. We can work it out."

Nicole's face was a study in disbelief. "Work it out?"

Peter got to his feet again, approaching her. "We've worked through so much in our years together already. We can work this out too."

"Peter!" she exclaimed in frustration. "This was not one of our 'blowing off steam' fights, not one of our 'loudly disagreeing' fights. This was a divorce! You can't expect to walk in here and just make everything better overnight! You can't walk in here after thirteen months and tell me you still love me and expect that I'm going to throw myself at your feet."

"I'm not, Nick..."

"I think you'd better just... go home now, Peter," she sighed.

Peter stood firm. "Not until you tell me whether or not you still love me."

"What?"

"You heard me." He nodded, coming closer to her, his hands slipping up to her shoulders. "I still love you, and if you don't love me, just say the words... and I'll leave you alone. I promise," he vowed, certain by the look in her eyes it was a promise he'd never have to keep. "Just look me in the eyes and say the words..." he prompted, moving his hands from her shoulder to her face.

"I don't love you," she replied quietly.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. *Stubborn woman.* "Look me in the eyes, Nicole, not the nose. Look me in the eyes and say it," he demanded softly, tilting her face upwards.

Her eyes met his. "...I don't..." she began. "I don't..." she tried once more, unable to finish the statement. Pulling away, she quickly put some space between them "All right! Fine! Yes! Part of me still loves you. Are you happy now?!"

Peter involuntarily breathed a sigh of relief. "No. I'm not happy, Nick. We're divorced, I live somewhere else, I hardly see the kids and I never see you. How can I be happy?"

"You're the one who wanted it this way, Peter," she reminded him quietly, slightly shaken.

"What can I do to convince you? To convince you that I want to work this out? That I made a mistake, that something was wrong with me or something?" he pleaded.

Nicole turned back to him. "Go to the doctor this week. Make an appointment and go get checked out. If there was something wrong with you, we need to know exactly what it was, and that it's not going to happen again, because I assure you, Peter, I cannot and will not go through that again."

"And then?" he asked hopefully.

"And then... we'll sit down and we'll talk. I'm not making any promises, except that we'll talk."

Peter nodded and started towards the front door. "I can accept that. I'll make the call first thing in the morning. I promise. And then you and I can talk." He left quickly, before she could change her mind.

PART 19
AT THE ZOO

Monday

Three o'clock arrived, and ticked by. Still, Nicole had not called back. Peter checked the machine at the office again, to see if there had been any calls during the time he'd been out, but the four messages were from clients. "Damn..." he muttered, sinking back into his chair. He'd been cautiously hopeful that morning, and true to his word, had called his doctor first thing. The earliest he could get in to see him was Tuesday morning, and never had 24 hours seemed longer.

"I made the appointment for tomorrow morning..." he'd explained to Nicole's answering machine as soon as he'd gotten off the phone with the physician's office. "It's for nine o'clock, so I thought maybe you and I could meet for lunch and talk after that. I know they may not know anything, or be able to give me any answers right away, but I thought we could... you know... have lunch..." *God, I hate these machines...* "Call me when you get this, please? I'm in the office."

The detective glanced at the clock on his desk again. Almost 3:30. *Damn.* The office was silent. Angie didn't work Monday afternoons, and Kermit had called in over the weekend and left a message, he was going to be 'unreachable' for another few days. Peter could hardly begrudge the man the time away, but he hated the quiet. He would have gone *home*, but it was even quieter there. With one last glance at the clock, Peter turned on his computer and set to work with the background checks he had piling up on his desk.

He'd scarcely begun when the hated quiet was broken by a child's voice. "Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy...."

Looking up in surprise, his eyes landed on the speaker. It was his youngest, Bethany, chanting happily at him from her mother's arms. Cait and Paul ran into his office, grinning from ear to ear, heading straight for him. "Hi..." he looked up at his ex-wife as she entered, a tentative smile on his face.

"Hi, yourself. Hope I'm not interrupting anything..."

"No, no... not at all, come on in..." he invited, pausing to pull the twins up onto his lap. They were getting a little big to fit, he noticed... they were growing up so fast. "What brings you by? Did you get my message?"

"Yeah, I checked the machine while I was out.... been running around like a nut all day. I'm glad you made the appointment."

"So am I..." he agreed. "So... whatcha doin' here?"

Nicole perched on the side of his desk, Bethany squirming in her arms. "Was thinking about something you said..." she shrugged casually, concentrating her visible attention on the toddler.

"And that would be...?" Peter asked, casting her a curious glance. She'd come to see him... *she* had come to see *him*.

"You said you hardly ever saw the kids... I just picked these two up from school, and thought I would take them to the zoo... aaaaannnd as long as we were passing through the neighborhood..." She cast a quick glance his way to see his reaction. What she saw were three beaming smiles. Cait, Paul and Peter, were all wearing silly grins. "I'll take that as a 'yes'???"

"Ohhhhh, I dunno..." Peter drawled. "Gotta check with the boss... Ohhh yeaaah, wait a second, I *AM* the boss!" he laughed, rising from his chair with a twin under each arm. "Lead the way."

********

The zoo was only a half an hour away by car. Peter had elected to leave the Stealth in front of the office and ride along in the old convertible with his family. Nicole put the top down and the turned the radio up, and for just a short time, Peter was almost able to believe that the last year had never happened. Almost. The illusion was complete, but for the distance between himself and the woman he'd married, and the pale, tired look on her face. She had assured him she was going to be just fine, that she had responded well to the treatments and the doctors were hopeful... but she looked so tired.

As though feeling the weight of his stare, she turned her head to look at him. The wind whipped her long dark hair across her face for a moment, her eyes hidden by her sunglasses. "What?" she asked quietly, turning her eyes back to the road in front of them.

"Nothing. Just thinking how glad I am you came by."

"Liar..." she muttered, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You were thinking that I look like... you-know-what."

"...thinking you look tired. That's all. And I *am* glad you came by."

"So am I."

**********

Lions and leopards, monkeys and snakes, elephants and giraffes, camels and tigers. The late afternoon was spent with two increasingly weary parents chasing after three kids who wanted to see everything.

"Where do they get the energy...?" Peter groaned on their way out of the Monkey House.

"Ahhh, it's wasted on the young...." his ex agreed tiredly.

"Think the promise of icecream could get them to sit still for ten minutes while I catch my breath?" he asked, spotting an inviting looking patch of grass beneath a tree, and an icecream stand nearby.

"Ohhhh gooood... give 'em more sugar..." she scowled. "Yeah, I guess it's worth a shot...let's corral them..."

Five minutes later Peter was settled happily off his aching feet, on that patch of grass beneath that tree. The kids were dripping more icecream on themselves than they were getting into their mouths, but it was a good sight. Nicole dropped down beside him, leaning her back against the large tree. "No icecream for you?" Peter asked, bumping her shoulder with his.

"My sweet-tooth O.D.'d last night on all that cake," she admitted with a stifled yawn. "When did it happen? When did you and I get old?"

A snort of laughter was the reply she received before they lapsed into a companionable silence. Nicole closed her eyes and relaxed, feeling the fading sunlight on her face. The feeling of life energy around her was better medicine than anything a doctor could prescribe. Letting out a long slow breath, she allowed Peter to guide her head to his shoulder as his arm went around her shoulders. "We should go soon..." she yawned.

"Mmmm-hmm..." he nodded reluctantly.

"Before we both fall asleep here."

"Mmmm-hmmmm..." he nodded again. "And tomorrow?"

Nicole's eyes opened and she sat forward, breaking the physical contact with him. "Tomorrow... I'll be home all day, and I'll get my folks to take the kids in the afternoon. Come over after you're through at the doctor's and we'll talk. Now let's get the monsters packed up, and you back to the office."

"Nick..." Peter stopped her movement with a gentle, restraining hand on her arm. "Tomorrow is gonna be just the beginning."

***********

Tuesday

The midmorning hours were taken up completely by a battery of tests for Peter. He bore the poking and prodding, needles and questions with far more cooperation than he generally demonstrated. He was nothing if not the model patient. And after he'd thrown away the crumpled up paper gown and concluded his consultation with the doctor, he hurried out to the Stealth with a smile on his face. He started the car and pointed her back towards the suburbs. Back home.

*********

When lunchtime rolled around and Peter had not shown up, Nicole dismissed it as having been held up at the doctor's office.

When midafternoon came and there was still no sign of him, she began to grow concerned.

When the phone rang at 5:14, she knew in her gut that something had happened.

She was right.

PART 20
GOIN' TO THE CHAPEL

Nicole threw the car into park and leaped over the driver's side door, bolting for the entrance to the hospital. Paul Blaisdell's call had put the fear of God back into her once again. *Don't do this...* she entreated the Man Upstairs as she searched frantically for her father-in-law. *Please, God, don't do this...*

"Nicole!" Blaisdell's voice called out to her from the waiting area she'd just bolted passed. Skidding to a halt she turned and approached him on shaking legs. "What happened, Paul...? What happened?"

Paul's face was etched with worry as he drew her into the waiting room with himself and Annie. "We're not really sure. There was only one witness and the details are sketchy. The only thing we know is that the assailant was after the Stealth. Peter resisted and the goddamn junkie stabbed him..." The words tore from his throat.

"Stabbed..." Nicole repeated the word. "O-o-kay.... how bad? Where is he?"

Paul's voice lowered, as though he was nearly unable to say the words at all. "Got him five times before Peter was able to draw his gun... in the chest... the side... He's in surgery now. It took them a long time to stabilize him enough to get him that far..."

His words hit her like a physical blow. Her mouthed opened, but there were no words. A shake of her head was all that conveyed her denial of the situation.

"I'm sorry, Nicole. I know the two of you have been talking the last few days..."

"He told you?" she asked, finding her voice as a deathly numbness settled in.

"It was all he could talk about last night. I'm glad you're here." A hand came up to run through his silver hair. The hand had an uncharacteristic tremble to it. "It could be a while before we know anything..." He took her by arm, attempting to guide her to a chair to join them in waiting.

Nicole gently disengaged from his grasp. "I... I can't... " She shook her head. "I can't sit... I gotta.. I gotta walk around... get a cup of coffee or something..." she mumbled, wandering from the waiting room.

********

Thirty minutes after wandering away from the surgical waiting area, Nicole found herself standing in the doorway of the deserted hospital chapel. The only time she'd ever set foot in one was the first time she and Peter had been married. She'd been the patient that time, years ago, in Arizona. She recalled staring at Peter Caine as if he were insane for suggesting it. "Let's get married. Today. Now...." His words echoed in her mind as she approached the front of the chapel. The tears burned behind her eyes as the image came unbidden to her mind. He'd been so full of hope, so full of visions of the future. *Not this future...* she assured herself bitterly.

Candles flickered around the altar, drawing her closer. "Marry me, Nicole. Let's drive each other up every wall in our home for the rest of our lives..."

A stifled sob escaped her throat as she sank to her knees at the rail, unable to hold back the tears any longer. "I don't know what you're doin' up there..." she whispered desperately, turning her eyes towards Heaven. "But whatever it is, you'd better take a break from it and pay attention to what's goin' on down here... I know that you and I don't see eye to eye a whole lot, and I guess if you know everything, then you know that I'm pretty ticked at you right about now... but you gotta do something for me... you gotta pull him through this. I think you owe me this much. And you definitely owe it to our kids not to take their father away...."

Folding her arms on the rail, she let her head bow and took a deep breath. "I know I've said and thought a lot of shitty things about him in the last 13 months but I never wanted this, and you know it... " Wiping angrily at her eyes she raised her head and stared into the flickering flames of the candles. "I'll make you a deal. You leave him here with his parents, and his kids and his friends... and take me instead. You let him survive this, and you can give me back the cancer and you can take me. I know you don't really want me up there, and the guy with the pitchfork is afraid of me, but think about it. Only don't take too long...."

"Nicole..."

The voice behind her startled the life out of her. She spun around quickly, fear in her heart. "Paul..." she whispered.

PART 21
ANSWERS

Nicole quickly approached Paul, wiping away the tears, which clouded her vision. "What is it?" she asked anxiously.

"He's out of surgery," Paul began, the partial relief clear in his blue eyes.

Her eyes squeezed tightly shut for a moment in silent 'thanks'. "Where is he now?" she asked softly. "How is he?"

"As for the 'where', they're moving him to ICU. As for the 'how'..." Paul paused, taking a deep breath and dropping his eyes from hers. "There was some pretty serious damage."

"Take off the kid gloves, Paul."

Blue eyes met gray, each having seen too many deaths for single lifetimes, each reading the other's fears. "Damage to one lung, which was reparable. Damage to one kidney... which was not."

Nicole blinked. "Are you saying.... that he lost a kidney?"

Paul nodded.

"But... he only really needs one, right?"

Another nod in answer. "We can see him in a little while. But before we go up, there's something I wanted to talk to you about." Taking her arm, he guided her into a seat and settled next to her. "I just talked to Kermit."

"Where the Hell is he, anyway?" she asked. "He was supposed to be having some friend of his working up something, and he went and disappeared.."

"He's coming back on the next flight. And he *did* get that report back from his friend. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. The workup indicated that while those drugs Peter was administered would have worked their way out of his system in a short period of time... the probability is that they would have caused a chemical imbalance in him. This imbalance could have resulted in anything from minor to severe shifts in personality. These shifts could be temporary, or they could be permanent, depending on his body's ability to compensate."

"...so what do we do now?" she asked, her mind still reeling from the events of the past week. She clasped her hands in her lap to stop their shaking. A brief, murderous flash went through her mind, the anger overridden only by her concern for her ex-husband. Revenge was a dish she was going to have to settle for being cold. Today, tomorrow, or a year down the road... someone was going to pay.

"They can do some of the testing while he's here... most likely they'll be able to give him medication to compensate for the remaining imbalance. Lately he's seemed more 'himself', so the medication may not have to be a permanent thing. Aside from that, there isn't much we can do." The former captain stood and motioned for Nicole to follow. "Come on. Let's go back up. He isn't out of the woods yet by any means, and I don't want to be gone too long. They'll have moved him by now, and you know how he hates to wake up alone here."

"That I do..." she answered, rising to her feet. "By the way, I've been trying to get hold of Kermit for days, how did you reach him?"

"I have my ways..." Paul smiled secretively.

"You telling me that dirty Muppet has beeper numbers I don't know about?"

Paul was unable to stifle the bark of laughter as he left the chapel, Nicole trailing behind him. Her feet halted at the door. Turning briefly back to the altar and the candles which never seemed to burn down completely, she took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "You're not off the hook yet... but at least for the first time in my life I really think maybe you're listening..." Flicking a quick, tentative 'thumbs up' towards Heaven, she turned and hustled to catch up with Paul.

PART 22
ONE FOR YES, TWO FOR NO

Nicole paced the hall, demonstrating her usual measure of patience. She'd allowed Paul and Annie to go in first to see Peter, knowing that once she herself was in there, she was not moving. Doctors, nurses and orderlies passed by, giving her a wide berth. A phone call to her parents had secured a place for the monsters to spend the night.

During what must have been her 50th trip up the hall, a luke-warm cup of coffee clenched in her hand, the Blaisdell's finally emerged.

"How is he? Is he awake?" she asked immediately.

"He's still unconscious," Annie answered. "But he probably will be for a while yet."

"Go on in..." Paul encouraged her needlessly. "We'll be here for a while."

Nicole nodded and walked swiftly passed them, anxious to see the patient. She steeled herself for the sight even as she pushed the door open.

Peter's pale form lay in the bed, motionless. The voices of the respirator and dialysis machine competed for attention over those of the monitors. Steady whirring, regulated soft hissing, and rhythmic beeps joined together in a discordant symphony.

"Hey, there... " she whispered in his ear as she pulled a chair close to the bed. "Hope you didn't think I wasn't here because I let your folks come in first. I figured I'd let them visit before I settled in for the long haul."

The mechanical symphony launched into its next movement. She inhaled deeply, and exhaled, taking a moment to appreciate the fact that she was the only one in the room who could exercise will over that action at the moment. Peter breathed steadily beside her, via machine. "What is it about this place you like so well, anyway?" she asked. "The smell of Lysol? The starched sheets? Or is it the food? Because if it's the food, we gotta get you off that respirator so you can have some, ya know? I don't know if the green Jell-O is gonna go too well through that IV."

One of the monitors began beeping slightly more rapidly, and Nicole smiled. For some reason she could tell it was his way of laughing at her. Her hand slid down his arm to grasp his fingers lightly. "Boy, when we screw up, we really screw up big, don't we? You and I were supposed to have spent today talking. And then you gotta go and do something like this. And now I'm sittin' here talkin' to myself...."

Nicole brought the cool, limp hand to her lips. "Got a lot to talk about. Lots you should know. Turns out there was a good reason for everything that happened between us last year, and we gotta sit down and talk and figure out what we're gonna do about it now. Guess I'll have a captive audience for a while...."

For the next three hours she kept up a steady stream of conversation, defying anyone to remove her from Peter's side. The physical touches were as much for her as they were for the unconscious man in the bed who she was certain was marginally aware of everything. "The other day you said that this was just the beginning. Gotta tell you this is not the beginning I thought you meant. I missed you this last year. No matter what I told anyone, or tried to tell myself. I missed you," she admitted quietly, her eyes focused on his hand, which rested limply in hers. "The kids missed you, especially Cait. It occurred to me when you were at the house the other night that Bethany looked a little surprised, as though she didn't realize you and I knew each other. She was so young when you left. She wouldn't have had any memories of us living together. Kind of a... a sad thought..." she whispered.

A nurse came through, checking his vital signs, and changed the IV bag. Nicole watched her face closely as she made notes on his chart. She didn't seem overly concerned about anything she was registering.

The nurse gave Nicole an understanding smile. "He's stable," she said before leaving the room to make similar stops with other patients.

Nicole's attention focused fully back on the man in the bed again. "I don't know what this year was like for you. I didn't know what was going on. All I knew was that you didn't love me anymore. I should have known, Peter. I should have known there was something wrong, but at the time...God, I couldn't even think straight. I was hurting too much. Nothing made sense. Your behavior didn't make sense, the empty bed didn't make sense. Hell, the sun coming up in the morning didn't make sense."

The twitch of his fingers against her hand halted her monologue. She stared at his hand, waiting for the motion to repeat itself. "Peter...?" she called softly.

The fingers twitched once more, then slowly, steadily curled around hers. Her eyes moved hopefully from his hand to his face and a wide smile formed as she saw his eyes. They were open.

"Hey...welcome back," she whispered, moving into his line of sight.

Peter's eyes focused on her in confusion, and something else she couldn't quite read.

Her hand moved to gently stroke his cheek, her voice low and reassuring. "Had yourself a little accident. You're at County, and you're gonna be fine. You remember our signals?" she asked.

Peter blinked once for 'Yes'.

"Good..." she smiled. "Are you in pain?"

Two blinks after a short pause told her he was still feeling the effects of the anesthesia.

"Glad to hear that." *Enjoy it now, though, because I have a feeling it won't last long...* "Were you eavesdropping on my conversation with you a little while ago?" she asked with a tentative smile.

A single blink was his reply. His eyes held curiosity as they lost a little of the disorientation.

"We missed having our talk today. You know, you really scared the shit outta me..." she admitted quietly. "One day we're having a day at the zoo with our kids and the next...I'm getting a call from Paul that you're in the hospital.... " Her voice was beginning to break slightly. The sounds of the machines in the room driving home the seriousness of his condition. She was certain he would bear an incomparable scar from the surgery this time.

A gentle squeeze to her hand brought her eyes back to his. She read the apology there in the hazel depths. "I'm just glad you're okay. I guess when the Man Upstairs decides it's time for a wake-up call for me, he doesn't play games."

The apology in his eyes turned to hopeful curiosity.

"Listen, I know my bedside manner has always left something to be desired... and I know I'm a little rusty at playing nursemaid, but... when you get out of here, I'd like it if you'd recuperate at the house. You could spend some time with the kids... and we could do some talking. See if we can iron out some stuff. I have a lot to tell you when you're really coherent. You want to do that?" she asked, looking to his eyes for an answer.

The one long blink he used as a reply squeezed a single tear from his eye.

"Feeling some pain?" she asked quickly, getting ready to ring for a nurse.

One more blink said, "Yes."

"I'll get a nurse..." Nicole offered quickly, beginning to rise from her chair. The gently restraining pressure of his grip on her hand stopped her. She glanced back down at him in confusion. "No nurse?"

He responded with two blinks for, "No."

"But you're in pain?" she asked, sinking back down into the chair and wondering where they were getting their wires crossed when he responded with an affirmative. "But you don't want a nurse or a doctor. Is there something I can do?" she asked in concern.

One blink answered, "Yes", as his fingers slowly slipped over hers until they found and closed around her ring finger. His energy was clearly drained.

Nicole watched the gesture, a lump forming in her throat. Her eyes drifted back to his as she leaned over him. "We'll talk..." she whispered, kissing him gently on the forehead.

PART 23
COMMUNICATION

Awareness crept slowly in. The dull aches his mind recognized would be screaming pains later registered before anything else. The soft whirrs and beeps of machinery filtered in, followed by sharp misery as his body identified the sensation of the machine breathing for him.

By the time Peter's eyes at last opened, he knew where he was again. *Christ... what did I do to myself this time...?* He blinked against the relative harshness of the dim lights, expecting to hear a voice, to feel the touch of a hand, but there was nothing. His spirits sank. *Guess I should be used to waking up alone.*

Images of the previous day flashed through his mind with disjointed clarity. He'd left the doctor's office with a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. Hope. Just last night, when he'd woken, she'd been here. She'd sat by his side, held his hand, spoken to him in the tone of voice he knew she reserved only for him and kids. *Probably thought I was gonna kick the bucket... now that she knows I'm not, she went home...* Peter's eyes drifted closed again against the reality of the empty room. *Not like I could really keep up my end of a conversation anyway... yet, somehow, she always seems to know what I'm thinking. One blink for 'yes,' two for 'no'... how many blinks for "I'm sorry'? How many for 'I love you'? How many blinks to ask you if you really meant it about having me come stay with you to recuperate?* he wondered morosely.

The aches in his body thrummed with the beat of his heart, and though the thought of falling into the black hole the pain meds always thrust in front of him was tempting, Peter made no move yet toward the buzzer he knew would be within his reach. There had been far too little clarity of mind the past year or so to willingly give it up at the moment.

A sudden thought brought his eyes snapping wide open. *What if she isn't here because she's sick? She looked so damn tired the other day... and she won't even tell me how bad it was... or is.* The thought sent his half medicated mind into a spiral, the beeping of one monitor translating his emotional fear into audible sound as he squeezed his eyes shut again.

"Peter...?" a sleepy voice close by murmured, startling him.

The change in the beat of the electronic symphony roused Nicole from her state of half-sleep. Raising her head slightly with a near silent groan she looked up at Peter's face. His eyes were tightly shut, yet she knew he was awake. Her body protested at her movements. She'd finally fallen asleep in the chair, her head resting on the side of the bed atop folded arms. She moved back up into Peter's line of sight to see his eyes fly open in surprise.

"You in pain?" she asked with a stifled yawn. It had been a while since she'd pulled an all-nighter at County.

He blinked twice, the relief plain in his eyes as the monitor slowed back to normal again. He began to relax as he felt the gentle pressure of her hand slipping into his.

"Bad dream?" she asked softly.

Peter answered with two blinks. *That voice... * he smiled inwardly. *It's either a whip or a warm blanket.*

"Woke up and thought nobody was here..." she finally surmised. "It's never too hard to read those eyes," she smiled. "Since when did I ever leave you alone in a hospital?"

Peter's eyes flicked guiltily away from hers for a moment as the answer shouted itself loud and clear in his head. *The time I threw you and the kids out...*

"Okay, you threw me out once..." she replied, as though hearing the mental shout. "But that was the only time. I'm not bailing on you. Monique brought me a couple changes of clothing, and the monsters are safe and secure with my parents when Paul and Annie want to come here... I'm here for the long haul."

Hazel eyes turned up towards her again in concern. *Are you sure you have the energy to spare for this?*

"Oh, please..." she scowled humorously. "All those years dodging bullets and bad guys and you think I'm gonna allow my own body to take me down?" *Unless of course, God chooses to take me up on my offer,* she reminded herself, not allowing Peter to see any doubts. "I'm just fine. I'm gonna be around for many, many more years, nagging you and badgering you..."

The hope in Peter's eyes practically lit the room. He reached again for her left hand, with more surety this time.

"You're a stubborn guy..." she laughed.

One long blink answered, "YES."

PART 24
PACKAGES AND FISHBOWLS

Peter's first unassisted breaths led him to believe the doctors may just have left the knife lodged in his lung. Those first breaths were also accompanied by a silent, but ardent vow of, *Never, ever again...* The doctors seemed satisfied with his progress, and remained hopeful that his remaining kidney would be able to compensate for the one he had lost.

Being moved into a private room meant having a T.V. for those rare moments when doctors, nurses, and visitors were absent. It meant a return to solid foods, which, considering it was hospital food was a mixed blessing. Once he'd been removed from the machines, Nicole had begun bringing the kids for regular visits, which lifted his spirits immeasurably.

Kermit and Karen had returned to town, and had been regular visitors. Both appeared tanned and relaxed. Where they had been, they wouldn't say.

"More lives than a damn cat..." Kermit grumbled, entering the hospital room. The ex-merc seemed to walk more quietly in hospitals, as though more reluctant than usual to call attention to himself.

"Kermit..." Peter rasped his greeting. Hitting the controls, the young detective brought his bed slightly more upright. His eyes had gone right to the manila envelope in his friend's hand.

"Feeling any better today? Or are you gonna milk these little scratches for everything they're worth?"

Peter's eyebrow arched at his partner. "Bite me, Griffin..." he laughed, his lung regretting the action immediately.

Kermit shook his head, holding out the envelope as he approached the bed. "Yeah, you'll live. Mind telling me what exactly it is that's in that thing?" the ex-merc asked curiously. "It took me almost an hour to find the damn thing in that apartment of yours."

"My father's apartment... the apartment is my father's..." Peter correctly firmly.

Kermit sighed. "Okay, it took me almost an hour to find that damn thing in your father's apartment. What's in there that's so important?"

"My personal effects. Stuff they took off me when I was admitted to the hospital in Palm," the younger man explained in a slightly hoarse voice as he set about pulling out the staples he'd closed the envelope with last year. He'd taken out his wallet and keys and sealed it up upon his arrival 'home'. Now he was unsealing it, and peering inside for the object he sought.

"Okay... So what's so important that you had to have it today? You're being released day after tomorrow. More lives than a damn cat..." he grumbled again as an afterthought.

Peter's eyes landed on the small box at the bottom of the envelope. *Still there...* he sighed inwardly in relief. "Can't tell you yet," he grinned.

Kermit rolled his eyes and started for the door. "Oh, good. I like secrets. I'll catch you later, Pete. Got a couple of things I have to take care of this afternoon. Maybe I'll see you again before the day is over."

"Thanks for this, Kermit," Peter said quietly, tapping the package.

The minutes alone dragged by like hours, even with the hollow company of the small TV. Peter checked the watch sitting on the bedside table again. It was almost 1:00. *She said she'd be here at 1:00, and it's almost 1:00 now. Suppose she's changed her mind? Maybe she doesn't want to come... she's not your wife anymore, Pete, she's under no obligation to come,* the voice in the back of his head continued to nag at him as the seconds ticked by. *Put it away, Pete, before it's too late and you embarrass yourself and her, put it away. It was a big, stupid mistake to have Kermit go get it, shoulda just left it where it was, buried and forgotten...* His hand clutched the small box in his hand, moving slowly to shove it into the pocket of his robe as the door began to swing open again. His eyes flicked up in hope. A hand appeared in the doorway, and he recognized it immediately.

"Hi, anybody here interested in a Big Mac?" the voice from behind the partially opened door called in as a brown bag dangled enticingly from the visible hand.

A relieved laugh escaped his throat. "C'mere..." he invited.

"I brought edibles..." Nicole announced, slipping through the door and approaching the bed.

Peter's eyes followed her as he patted the edge of the bed. "You always...." His words trailed off as he spotted the bowl she balanced in her other hand. The fish bowl. The fish bowl with a single koi in it. "Nick?" he asked, his eyes moving back to hers.

"Thought he'd be safer here, that's all." She grinned, setting the bowl on the table and settling down on the side of the bed with the bag of food.

"Oh, no... " he groaned. "Don't tell me that's the only one left."

"Okay. I won't tell you that," she shrugged with an amused gleam in her eyes. "But you *are* the one that brought the little hairball into the house." She reached into the brown bag and pulled out a Big Mac and a large order of fries, and set them before him. "Dig in. We gotta put some weight back on you."

Peter took a French fry and held it to her lips. "Gotta get some back on you, too."

With a slight smile, Nicole ate the fry from his fingers. "The rest are for you. You're gonna need your energy this afternoon."

"For what?" he asked nervously. *Oh, Christ, please... not more tests... I just want to go home...*

His ex-wife rose from the bed and retrieved the wheelchair from the corner of the room, unfolding it as she brought it closer. "If you're a good boy and finish your cholesterol attack, I was planning on hi-jacking you outta this room for a little while... take ya for a cruise around the hospital, show ya the sights," she grinned.

"The only sight I really want to see is the parking lot. On the way out," he mumbled halfheartedly.

Nicole returned to her spot on the bed, snagging another fry as she watched him slowly eat. "It'll be good for you to have even a little change of scenery. You've been in this joint long enough."

"Getting sprung day after tomorrow if I behave myself. Is your offer still good? About recuperating at the house?" he asked, attempting to sound as casual as he could.

There was something strangely secretive in the smiling nod he received in reply. "Yes, it is. I've got the downstairs guestroom all fixed up for you."

Try as he might, Peter could not completely hide the disappointment in his eyes. He nodded. "Thanks." The downstairs guestroom was a far cry from the upstairs master bedroom they'd laid claim to together in what seemed the distant past, but it was a step in the right direction. "I really appreciate you wanting to do that. I just wish you'd have let me be there for you instead of calling Kermit," he confessed quietly.

"I'd offer you dibs on next time, but I'm not planning on there being a next time. You about ready to go for that ride?" she asked hopefully, eyeing his nearly finished lunch.

Peter nodded. "Sure. Why not? Cancel my Squash game, I'm going for a ride."

The smile spread across her face. "Good. There's some place I really wanted to take you."

"Take me, I'm yours," he laughed, pulling back the blankets on the bed and making his first, hesitant moves to slide his legs over the edge.

Nicole pushed the wheelchair close and locked the wheels, gently helping him from bed to chair. "You okay?" she asked, moving in front of him for a moment.

"Fine..." Peter nodded. His body was screaming at him in protest of every move, but he wasn't about to let that interfere.

Searching his eyes, Nicole saw the physical pains, and the stubborn will to suppress them. "All right, but you let me know if it gets to be too much and we'll come right back," she offered, surprising the breath out of his body by leaning in and pressing her lips softly against his. Before his mind and body could reconcile what was happening, she'd pulled away again, moved behind the chair and started wheeling him towards the door.

***********

"Where are we going?" Peter asked for the third time since leaving his room. She seemed to have a specific destination in mind, but wouldn't say where.

"You'll see," she responded. It was the same response he'd received the first two times he'd asked. There was a gentle humor in her voice not even he was all that familiar with.

As the elevator doors opened and the corridor they traveled registered in his mind as familiar, he could only guess where their path was leading them. Another left turn made and the doors to the chapel were in sight.

PART 25
GOIN' TO THE CHAPEL... AGAIN

"What are we doing in the chapel, Nick?" Peter asked quietly as she pushed the chair through the doors and into the silent sanctuary.

Nicole wheeled the chair close to the front pew and settled into the bench. Leaning forward with a slight smile, she took his hands. "I wanted to talk to you about something, and this seemed to be the most appropriate place to do it."

"Okay..." he replied, starting to smile a little himself. "What did you want to talk about?"

There was a gleam in her gray eyes as she squeezed his hands gently. "Us."

Peter knew the look in her eyes. "Am I going to like this talk?" he laughed nervously.

"I think so. Or at least, I hope so." Her eyes left his, coming to rest on their joined hands. "I already invited you to come recuperate at the house...." she began. "But I was thinking about it after I offered..."

Peter's heart began to sink despite all the good signs. *She's letting me down easy because I'm in the hospital...* "It's okay, Nicole... I understand, really..." he offered in a soft voice, averting his eyes.

Nicole let one of his hands go and brought her fingers to his chin, turning him to face her again. "I was thinking that maybe something less temporary would be nice."

A long moment passed before she got a reply, as her ex-husband's words stuck in his throat. The reply came instead, in the form of an action. Peter extricated his left hand from her light grasp and fumbled for the small box in his robe pocket. He felt his palm against the velvet of the box. His palm was dry.

Understanding and amusement shone clear in the eyes of the former and future Mrs. Peter Caine. "Where did you get this?" *How does this man beat me to every punch?*

"In Palm," he responded, finding his voice again as she finally took the gift from his hand after thirteen months. "It was in a bag in the trunk... that night... this is what I stayed out at the car to get." His eyes studied her features, watching her reaction closely as Nicole opened the small box.

"Peter... I..." she stammered. "It's beautiful. I don't know what to say..."

"Say 'Yes'..." he prompted hopefully. His hopeful expression turned confusion as she began to laugh softly.

"I was going to ask you...."

"You were?" he interrupted, joining her in the quiet laughter which echoed in the small, empty chapel.

Nicole's eyes shone still as her expression sobered. "Yeah, I was. Spending this time with you here since your injury has taught me a lot. And reminded me of a lot. You and I are better together than we are apart. We learned that on the streets of Chinatown first. I know we still have a lot to talk about, and a lot to iron out, but I needed you then, and I need you now."

Peter reached for the ring, pulling it from the box, then reached for her left hand. "Partners," he said softly, slipping the diamond onto her finger. "When?" he asked eagerly.

"Now," she answered, getting to her feet.

"Now?!"

The reply came with a short laugh. "Yes, now. We have a minister, a best man, a maid of honor, two flowergirls, a ring bearer and a couple of guests standing out in the hall waiting."

Peter laughed louder, ignoring his body's protests and pains. "Nick, are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, I invited them."

"No..." Peter reached out and grasped her hand lightly. "Are you sure about doing it now? I mean... it won't be much of a honeymoon..." he offered with a sheepish grin.

With a wicked gleam in her smoke gray eyes, Nicole leaned in close to his ear. "Like either of the other two were?"

A quick hand slipped up behind her neck, holding her where she was. "Never heard anyone say 'please' so much in my life..." Peter teased back.

"Oh, please..." she scowled good-naturedly, pulling away.

"See? It's started already."

"I'm gonna go get the rest of this little wedding party before the groom needs his meds."

PART 26
CONCLUSION

Were he not so sure even the slightest bit more pain would cause him to scream, Peter would have pinched himself to be sure he wasn't dreaming. Nicole had disappeared out into the hall, and moments later Cait and Paul stampeded into the chapel, followed at a more human pace by Annie and Paul Blaisdell, Monique Connelly with Bethany in her arms, Kermit and Karen, and the hospital Chaplain. Nicole ushered them in, and immediately took her place behind his wheelchair.

Leaning forward she placed a quick kiss on his forehead. "Ready?" she asked. He needn't have turned around to see the grin on her face. He could hear it, plain as day.

"More than..." he responded.

His ex-wife/fianci wheeled him to the front of the chapel, locked the wheels on his chair and took her place by his side. *It's really happening...* Peter repeated to himself, over and over. *Not a dream.* He scarcely needed the minister to prompt him on his vows. Having taken them twice before, with the same woman, he knew them by heart. He added silently his own promises. *No more hospitals, no more scares. Too much to lose... I promise to be there for you like you've been there for me, but, please, God, don't let that happen... *

Nicole reached down for his hand as she recited the standard vows, silently promising him more than the minister asked her to. *This time I'll listen more and yell less... and trust in you more... next time I'll share my pain with you instead of taking it out on you. ..*

The Minster prompted them to exchange rings at the conclusion of the ceremony, and Peter started to explain. "We don't have..." His words trailed off in confusion as Nicole bent down to gently usher Paul over to his father, taking something from one small hand as she did. His son stood in front of him, holding out his open palm to reveal a wedding band. "Thanks, Buddy..." Peter whispered with a smile as he took the offered ring. *She kept them... she kept our rings...* he marveled as he reached for her hand to replace the ring. *Caught you. You DO have a romantic streak.*

***********

Nicole wheeled Peter back up to his room after a brief 'wedding reception' in the cafeteria. Bride and weary groom cut and fed each other pieces of frosted donuts for lack of wedding cake. Their family and friends with fruit punch and stale hospital coffee toasted them.

By the time she got him back into his room and helped him from the wheelchair to the bed, his eyelids were drooping at half-mast and he was in desperate need of his pain meds.

Nicole pulled the covers up to his chest and handed him two pills and a glass of water before sitting down next to him. "There ya go, little boy. Some head candy for ya..."

"Thank you..." He responded gratefully, swallowing the pills and setting aside the glass. "We really did it, didn't we?"

"We really did it," she assured him, leaning down to kiss his forehead as his eyes drifted closed.

*******

Peter awoke hours later to the smell of something wonderful. His stomach growled in response to his nose's news. His eyes slowly opened to seek the source, he knew perfectly well it couldn't be hospital food.

"You could sleep through a bomb exploding next to the bed, but put a steak dinner anywhere near you and those eyes just fly open..." a soft voice teased.

"Steak?" Peter mumbled with a sleepy smile. A glance at the clock on the table beside him told him how truly exhausted he'd been. It was well passed dinnertime and into the evening.

"Think I was going to make you eat fishsticks and green Jell-O for dinner on your wedding day?" Nicole asked as she continued pulling food out of the small cooler she'd brought in with her.

Those last words brought his eyes fully open. Reaching for the switch, he raised the head of the bed slowly into a semi-upright position and moved to one side. "C'mere..." Peter invited, patting the spot next to him.

Nicole set the food on a tray and climbed up onto the bed beside him. "You summoned me?"

"That I did.." he smiled, awkwardly attempting to slip an arm around her.

"Take it easy there, Romeo... don't go pulling stitches trying to make one of your 'moves' on me..." she chided him.

"But it's our wedding night...." Peter pouted dramatically. "Our first wedding night was in a hospital bed and I seem to remember we had more fun than this..."

Nicole moved closer, bringing her lips to his ear. "We did... but *I* was the patient that time, and I'd been poisoned, not stabbed..." With a quick kiss, she moved away long enough to retrieve the plate of food she'd fixed for him. "Steak, baked potato, some veggies because they're good for you..."

Peter closed his eyes and took a long deep breath, inhaling the wonderful aroma of real food. "Gonna feed me?" he smiled. The sound of a fork and knife at work on his steak brought his eyes open again in amusement. A piece of medium rare filet mignon was presented to him on the end of the utensil.

"Open..." she laughed softly, watching with a smile as he complied.

Peter eyed her with loving curiosity as she held a forkful of peas to his lips. "Looks to me like someone wants to have another baby..."

A touch of sadness flickered briefly in her eyes, and then was gone. "Speaking of babies..." she continued, going for a forkful of baked potato this time, "Tom and Mel are parents now."

"That's right... she was pregnant last year," he nodded. "Well, what did they have? A boy or a girl?"

"Two boys..." Nicole announced gleefully. "Twins. They *do* run in my family. And guess what they named them?"

"Ummm.... Frick and Frack?"

"Noooo.... Peter and Nick." she laughed.

"They did not..."

"They *did*! And they're thinking of coming up for a visit sometime soon."

Peter nodded, swallowing down the last of his steak. "Good, they're welcome here any time. But we are *never* going to go see them again..."

*******

With dinner over, plates and utensils stashed back in the cooler and lights turned down low, Nicole had carefully crawled into the bed beside her husband.

"You look exhausted," he whispered in her ear. Nicole stifled a yawn. "I am. But it's good to be here. Back in bed with you."

"Even if it is a hospital bed?"

"We've spent more time together in hospital beds than we have in our own."

Peter nodded. "Gonna have to change that. I'm finally getting my life back, and I want to hold onto it. From now on, I promise, I'm going to be more careful." After a long silence, Peter glanced down at his new wife. She was soundly asleep. "Love you," he whispered before placing a soft kiss on her temple and clicking on the small television. The news was on and he was somewhat starved for news of the outside world.

Hazel eyes drifted to half-mast as the usual menu of bombings and shootings, abductions and assorted crime was served up for his viewing pleasure. Sleep was closing in quickly and had him within its' grasp long before the entertainment segment was aired. Flying Fists of Fury III would be shot in the city next month.

FIN