Part 1, Scene 1

Kermit pulled his Corvair into its customary space in the precinct parking lot. He winced as he struggled with the seatbelt latch, having to reach across and release it with his left hand. His right arm was in a sling and would be for several more weeks if the doctors had their way. He wasn't eager to go inside and face another round of stone-cold professionalism from Karen Simms, police captain. He was even less eager to face another night without Karen Simms, woman of his heart. 'Get in there and talk to her, you coward. You know you should have told her,' his conscience lectured. Kermit tried to ignore the inner voice, but couldn't stop his mind from replaying his homecoming.

FLASHBACK: Two days Prior

The exhausted ex-mercenary stood on Karen's doorstep, only now feeling like he was finally truly home. A flash of lightning briefly turned night into day and was quickly followed by a resounding clap of thunder. He rang the bell a second time and waited, as another loud rumble of thunder accompanied several more flashes of lightning. There had been a break in the downpour on the drive from the airport, but the rain had resumed its assault by the time he had reached her street. As he waited for her to appear at the door, his trenchcoat thoroughly soaked, Kermit could think of nothing beyond seeing the woman he had missed so deeply these past weeks.

Light filled the area and it took the detective a moment to comprehend that it wasn't from the storm, but the porch light. The door carefully swung open to reveal a rather sleepy-eyed blonde in a deep blue wrap-style fleece robe. As she squinted against the offending light, her welcoming smile beamed at him. "Kermit! You're back!" She pulled the door open wider and reached for Kermit's arm. "Come in out of that storm before you. . ."

Karen stopped mid-sentence as she realized the sleeve she held was empty. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the material clutched in her hand. Slowly her gaze rose to meet his, hidden though it was behind the ever-present pair of green glasses. The memory became permanently etched into his mind as hurt and confusion had quickly replaced the beaming happiness on her beautiful face.

The pair stood seemingly frozen until another loud clap of thunder startled Karen out of her stupor. She abruptly removed her hand from the coat and retreated into the foyer as she spoke. "You'd better come inside. It would appear you have quite a story to tell." Her voice clearly reflected her warring emotions.

Kermit remained rooted to the spot, his brain unable to convince his body to move. 'Dammit. What the hell have you done, Griffin?' Finally, he felt himself nod and his legs responded to the command to step forward into the house. He paused just inside the door and began to awkwardly remove his drenched coat. A shiver totally unrelated to the chilly dampness of the storm ran through him as her hands brushed his shoulders when Karen moved over to assist him. Kermit could barely contain the overpowering urge to sweep her into his arms and thoroughly kiss her, just as he had in his dreams every night since his departure. He instead waited for her to hang the garment and slowly followed her into the living room.

"I should make some coffee. I have the feeling we're both going to need it," she announced as he gingerly settled into a chair. Karen started to turn toward the kitchen, but hesitated, a look of uncertainty and concern in her eyes. Kermit waited, wondering why she hadn't yet asked the one question he had been certain she would hit him with immediately. Her next words relieved his growing apprehension. "How bad is it?" she finally managed.

"It's not bad. Barely more than a scratch, really. I'll be good as new in a couple of weeks." His tone and demeanor were deliberately light to lend credence to his claim. Green glasses remained in place, serving in part to help mask the pain and exhaustion exacerbated by a lengthy storm-delayed flight.

Seeing through his facade, Karen crossed her arms, her captain's persona emerging to dissipate any lingering uncertainty or fear. "I see. Perhaps you could explain the nature of this. . .'scratch' to me? And precisely how long ago did it occur?" Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance as the storm outside quieted, as if in deference to the one about to begin inside the room.

Kermit swallowed hard, knowing deep down that she wasn't going to accept his evasive answer. "I can't give you any details, Karen. You know that."

"And you know I'm not asking you to reveal any classified information. I just want to know what caused your injury and when. I think I deserve that much, if not as your...friend, then as your captain." Kermit winced inwardly as her last words struck home, but his features betrayed nothing.

"I've already told you it wasn't serious. I'll be completely back to normal in a couple of weeks. You don't 'need' to know more than that," he chastised, unable to stop himself from throwing the deliberate barb.

"Don't you dare play that game with me, Kermit Griffin," she warned. "Stop acting like you don't understand what it is I'm asking. Personal relationships notwithstanding, I deserve to hear this from you instead of having to read it in some medical release form." Her tone clearly told him that he was treading on dangerous ground, but he chose to remain evasive.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I told you the wound isn't serious. Are you saying that you don't believe me?" he challenged.

Karen ignored the attempted diversion and took a deep breath. "I'm going to ask you one more time. Was it a gun or a knife? Perhaps something a little more exotic? How long ago were you injured?"

Silence hung heavily between them as Kermit took a long time to answer. The rumbling in the distance grew stronger as he delivered his reply. "Gun. Five days ago." Kermit glared back through the green lenses. "Is that sufficient to satisfy your curiosity, 'Captain'?" he shot back.

Karen stepped forward and placed her hands on the back of the chair opposite Kermit, bowing her head and taking another deep breath. She kept her tone level and cool, refusing to allow the conversation to erupt into a shouting match. "You said that you were going to an obscure third-world country before you left. I assume you were able to obtain adequate medical attention." She kept her eyes on the chair in front of her as she waited for his response--a gesture that did not go unnoticed by her companion.

The pain radiating through his injured shoulder coupled with exhaustion had left him with little patience. "Yes, of course I was. That is assuming you do find having a world-renown surgeon flown in especially to treat me in a state-of-the-art private hospital to be adequate?" he countered. Kermit instantly regretted his words as her head snapped up to reveal eyes wide with fear. An apologetic tone instantly replaced the angry one. "The government officials insisted on flying in the best available. It really wasn't necessary. The wound wasn't--isn't--serious," he reassured.

Karen straightened and began to slowly pace while contemplating his words. With arms folded, she paused to assess his appearance. The silence was deafening, punctuated only by the intermittent rumble of thunder. Kermit could feel her gaze penetrate the protective green lenses and resisted the urge to squirm under the intense scrutiny. The limit of his patience quickly reached, he challenged her again. "For the last time, Karen, the injury isn't serious. You can believe me or not, your call."

The awkward silence seemed to drag on forever before her answer finally came. "You disappeared to God-knows-where for three weeks. With no warning, you show up at my front door in the middle of the night, a bullet hole in your shoulder, and refuse to explain when or how you were injured. What am I supposed to think?" An unexpectedly loud crash of thunder seemed to lend its agreement as the storm outside intensified.

Knowing that he was the cause of the anguish and confusion in her voice added to his own growing hurt and anger. "I think I'd better go now. I'll get the medical release from the car. I was going to give it to you in the morning when I got in. I assume you will take the esteemed doctor's word?" Kermit carefully rose from the chair and turned to head for the door.

Her voice stopped him dead in his tracks. "It's late and you're obviously tired from the flight. I'd like you to take tomorrow off." She avoided mentioning his shoulder injury, though the implication was clear.

He slowly turned back to her, the fury in his features matching that of the raging storm. Another loud clap of thunder shattered the tense silence before he responded. "Is that an order or a request, 'Captain'?"

Karen more than matched his icy tone as the fire of anger flashed in her eyes. "Whichever it needs to be, 'Detective'."

The siren of a departing patrol car brought Kermit back to the present. He checked his watch and sighed. 'Well, Karen, I took your extra day. You should definitely be in your office by now. We need to talk and I'm not taking no for an answer.'

As Kermit exited and locked his vehicle, he caught sight of Mary Margaret Skalany disappearing into the building. 'Well, well, well. Looks like the precinct gossip has arrived. This day might have its good points after all.' A devilish grin flashed across the ex-mercenary's face before giving way to the mask of mystery that he so enjoyed displaying to the rest of the world. "Let the games begin," he quietly announced as he made his way to the door of the precinct.

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Part 1 Scene 2

Kermit breezed through the squad room and made his way to the coffee machine. "Good morning, boys and girls. Did everyone play nice while I was away or has crime run rampant over our fair city?"

Mary Margaret was the first to answer the returning detective. Absorbed in finishing the paperwork on her latest murder investigation, she failed to look up at the prodigal ex-mercenary as she quipped, "Hey, Kermit. " As her eyes lifted to greet the returning officer, concern filled her expression. " Kermit! Are you okay? What am I saying? Look at you. Of course you're not okay. What happened? It's not serious, is it?"

Kermit flashed her his most enigmatic smile in answer and made his way to his office, full coffee cup in hand. He grimaced as he transferred the hot mug to his right hand while he opened the door and switched on the light. After taking several large sips, he shuddered slightly at the taste of the bitter liquid and set the cup on the desk. " Dakota had to be the first one in this morning. Someone has got to teach that guy how to make real coffee and soon," he grumbled as he pulled out the folder he'd tucked under his arm when he got out of the car. After placing it beside the mug, he carefully removed his trenchcoat and hung it up. Smiling, he moved over to his computer and sat down. Mentally, he began the countdown. Five, four, three, two, one...

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Part 1 Scene 3

Mary Margaret stared at the injured man's retreating figure in stunned silence. Quickly recovering, she glanced around the nearly empty squad room, looking for reinforcements. Her face lit up as she spied James Dakota at his desk, completely absorbed in comparing witnesses' statements in his newest case--a murder that gave every appearance of being related to the escalating drug war in Chinatown. Before Skalany could utter a sound, Dakota began to speak, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him.

"When I was small, my grandmother told me a story that has been passed down through many generations of my people." He looked up from the mountain of paper on his desk and proceeded to relate the story. "A sharp and cunning raccoon walked along the banks of the river looking for food. He spied a crawfish, looking for something dead along the banks upon which to feast. The raccoon lay down and feigned to be dead. The crawfish soon came upon the raccoon and sought to determine if he was really dead. He used his claws to pinch the raccoon's nose and soft paws; the raccoon never moved. He then proceeded to pinch the raccoon on his ribs and tickled him so that if he were alive he would surely have laughed. But the raccoon stayed as still as could be, not moving a muscle and the crawfish thought him to be surely dead.

"The crawfish hurried back to his village and reported to his chief. All the villagers were called to go down to feast on the fallen raccoon and the warriors and young men were instructed to paint their faces and dress in their gayest for a dance. They marched in a long line--first the warriors, with their weapons in hand, followed by the women with their babies and young children--to the riverbank where the raccoon lay.

"They formed a great circle around the raccoon and they danced and they sang. But as they did so the raccoon sprang to his feet and rushed among them, killing them by scores. The warriors fought bravely and the women ran screaming, but all were lost in the end. The crawfish did not feast on the raccoon; the raccoon feasted on them."

Dakota nodded toward Kermit's office. "Sometimes, the raccoon is even more dangerous when it has been wounded. And I have no wish to become a dead crawfish." The twinkle in his eye told Mary Margaret that he was amused by her intended course of action, but his deadly serious tone of voice made it clear he would do no more than watch from a safe distance.

At the same instant Mary Margaret was about to issue him a challenge, a familiar female voice drifted up the stairwell. "I said no! N-O. I'm not testing out anymore of your little electronic gadgets, Blake. Find someone else to be your guinea pig."

"But Jody, you've got the perfect. . .uh. . .bu-build for it. You're the best one to test this," Blake protested.

The sparkle of excitement in her eyes intensified upon hearing the familiar voices of Jody Powell and Blake. Mary Margaret winked at the newest member of the 101st as she scurried over to the stairs. "Watch and learn, Partner," she called to him as she prepared to greet the two arriving officers.

As the squabbling pair reached the top step, Mary Margaret wasted no time interrupting and proceeded to fill them in on the morning's events. Neither required any convincing and eagerly joined the dark-haired detective on her quest to Kermit's office for an explanation of his injury.

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Part 1 Scene 4

Kermit smiled inwardly at the knock on the glass window of his open door. 'You missed your countdown, Mary Margaret. Could it be our resident gossip is slipping? You should have been in here at least two minutes ago.'

Dakota watched in amusement from his desk as the two female officers took their positions, each hugging opposite sides of the computer expert's door, while Blake stood back a step in the center of the doorway.

As agreed, Jody was the first to speak. "Hey Kermit, it's great to have you back. How was your trip?"

"Thanks, Sweet Cakes. It's good to be back." Kermit turned back to his computer screen and began to type one-handed.

The blonde detective suppressed a groan as she waited for the answer to her question. When it became apparent that no answer was forthcoming, she impatiently repeated the question. "So, how was the trip?"

Kermit continued to watch the screen and pound away at the keyboard. "Long. So do you three need some information for a case? If not, kindly remove yourselves from my doorway." He paused to glare at the trio, the threat in his look causing them to shudder collectively.

Undeterred, Mary Margaret pushed for more. "Come on, Kermit. We just wanted welcome you back and ask how your trip was. You have been gone for a long time," she stated, trying to justify their fishing expedition.

The trio jumped as a deep voice suddenly boomed out behind them. "Don't you three have cases to solve? Get back to work and leave the gossip for Delancy's." Frank Strenlich watched with a satisfied smirk as the chastised group moved quickly back into the squad room. After their hasty retreat, he turned his attention to the object of everyone's curiosity. "Kermit, you have a visitor." The Chief turned to indicate a well-dressed gentleman standing several feet behind him.

Concealing his shock, Kermit rose from his chair and moved to the door. "Thanks, Chief." He gestured with his head for the visitor to come inside. As they waited for Kermit's guest to enter, Frank turned back to Kermit.

"Glad to see you back here in one piece, Kermit. . ." He paused as his eyes traveled pointedly to the wounded shoulder. ". . . more or less."

Kermit ignored the sarcasm in the Chief's voice and merely nodded before closing the door. Turning his attention to his visitor, he wasted no time in demanding answers. "What the hell are you doing here, Rykker?"

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Part 1 Scene 5

Every officer in the squad room paused to watch as Kermit's door opened and the mysterious stranger strode to the exit and disappeared. The ex-mercenary stood in his doorway and watched as Rykker departed. He noted with mild amusement the sudden trip to the coffee machine for the trio that had been at his door only minutes earlier when his guest had arrived.

"Need a fresh cup?" Mary Margaret turned to their intended prey and smiled. Jody finished pouring Blake's cup and extended the nearly empty pot toward Kermit to second the offer.

"Thanks, but I'll wait for the next pot. Maybe it will even resemble coffee." Before the group could launch their plan and ask any further questions, Kermit closed his door and went back to his computer. His satisfied smirk quickly disappeared as his thoughts turned to the conversation that had taken place with his recent mission's partner.

He sat back in his chair and began to idly finger his empty cup as he contemplated Rykker's visit. "What the hell are you up to, King Bhaskar? You're going to give me a gift that the State Department knows about and is worried I won't accept, which would cause a break in relations with your country, which will put the plutonium you refuse to mine at risk if another coup is attempted. And they send Rykker to assure me that they will take care of all legalities involved, but no one can or will tell me what this 'gift' is--only that I absolutely cannot under any circumstances refuse it." Kermit moved up to the keyboard and began typing with his one good hand. "So where the hell does one keep a herd of camels in this part of the world anyway?"

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Part 2 Scene 6

--Three days later

Captain Karen Simms stood at the door of her office and observed the young Shaolin priest with his replacement through the partially drawn shades. She found it very strange to see Peter Caine seated in the chair next to his former desk instead of in the one behind it. She watched him shift restlessly in his chair with a wry smile. 'Where's that calm stillness which has become so much a part of you since you took those brands, Detective?' she wondered. 'It's definitely not with you today.'

After a mental urging for the pair to quickly finish their business, she sighed and walked back to her desk. Determined to make some progress on the never-ending paperwork that was so large a part of her job, she sat down to tackle the growing pile of reports before her.

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Part 2 Scene 7

Green shaded eyes watched the former detective and the Native American rise from their respective seats and shake hands. James Dakota grabbed his jacket and beckoned for Jody Powell to join him as he headed out of the building. Peter watched them go before he slowly turned toward the computer expert's office and met Kermit's stare with a determined look of his own. The passing seconds dragged on for what seemed like minutes before the young priest sadly shook his head and turned to walk to the office opposite Kermit's own.

Kermit swiped the blinds shut and moved back to his chair. The anger and frustration he'd been feeling since his return flared once more. "Stay the hell out of this one, kid. It's none of your damn business."

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