Kermie's Girl (ushy-gushy fanfic)

[redBoobergurl]

Whoa. This is getting intense! I just feel so bad for them, everything was getting better and then someone's out there causing trouble and making up stories! Anyway, I'm really enjoying this and I'm looking forward to more!

 

[Ruahnna]

Chapter 8: Time heals all wounds

Time heals all wounds, and work is a great panacea. They’d made it through the first awkward week, and reporters no longer stood on the front lawn simply to watch them go to work and come home. There had been a few “follow-up” articles in various tabloids, but most of them were simple rehashes, and none of them contained any new information. There was one rather lengthy article that chronicled the ups and downs of their rather public courtship, but it actually served to illustrate more effectively than any statement from them could do that—despite everything--they were not willing to live without each other. Kermit suspected that Marty had something to do with that article, and it cheered him a little to think that they were using their opponent’s weapons to their own advantage.
Piggy had managed to convert her hurt into indignation, and what energy she didn’t channel into her work she used to bank the home fires. Kermit rather guiltily enjoyed her impassioned efforts to convince him of her fierce loyalty and did his best to respond in kind. He was determined to put a buffer between her and anyone who would try to hurt her. His own hurt he stuffed into some largely inaccessible place, tried to ignore it and pretended it didn’t exist.
Although they had done as Marty suggested, going about their business as though nothing had happened, some things about their schedules had changed. Piggy rarely left the studio until he did, which meant late nights for her, but Kermit found her presence on the set after filming a great comfort, if an equal distraction. She now came to watch the dailies with him, something she usually chose not to do. Like many actresses, Piggy was her own worst critic, and she counted more on her own in-the-heat-of-the-moment sense of whether or not a scene had worked that on what she saw on the screen. On more than one occasion, sitting in the darkness with his arm around her, Kermit had succumbed to temptation and they necked like giggling teenagers until the lights came back on—even if that meant they had to rewind and watch again.
There were other changes, some which boded well, and some they did not know how to interpret. Piggy began to get calls for magazine interviews. If she felt comfortable, she took them, but she never went without Kermit, whose presence sometimes seemed to fluster the interviewers. Their movie, which had not even wrapped yet, began to get what Hollywood so euphemistically called “good buzz.” Men in dark suits—backers, investors and assorted other parasites—often came on the set now, and though Kermit would have liked to send them packing, he was powerless to keep them out. Depending on her mood and her shrewd judgment, Piggy either accepted them with excellent manners and did her best to charm them, or did phenomenal diva grandstanding, making them flee in terror. Whatever she did, they seemed to like, and came back for more. Every day seemed to bring a flood of small gift-wrapped packages, but Piggy never opened them. They were dispersed among the ladies on the set or thrown away. Marty once again took over screening her mail, which usually included at least a couple of desperate proposals a week.
While no new articles appeared, hints and insinuations about the status of their marriage abounded in every newspaper and gossip rag. Piggy’s name—whether stated or implied--became linked with many of the popular males of the day—including a few that were scandalously younger than her. “Oh, please,” she complained to Kermit one Saturday, when it had been impossible to go out because of the flock of reporters on the front lawn. “If I’d wanted to go out with children, I’d have had some.” It was as close as she had managed to come to laughing about it.
Kermit watched the changes with an odd mixture of pride and suspicion. Although Piggy had clamped down a veneer of outward calm, even the tiniest hint of a mention that she might be less-than-happily married could cause her face to set in stony silence, send her into a tirade or off a crying jag. Kermit’s one attempt to make light of the articles himself did not go well.
Sitting in his office with the remains of lunch spread around them, Kermit skimmed the mail, tossing most of it directly into the trash can. There was an industry newspaper in his box and he frowned, but picked it up cautiously and began reading. Most of it was actual news, and he tried not to turn to the gossip column, but fear and dread finally blocked out everything else on the page and he gave it up and turned to the last inside page. Piggy seemed to sense his preoccupation and turned to face him.
“Read it to me,” she said quietly, but her voice was calm.
“Nothing so far,” Kermit said, hastily looking through the article. He had just begun to breathe again when he spied the following:

“Once an exclusive property of Rainbow Productions, it’s becoming increasingly obvious that Miss Piggy belongs to the world, and not just one studio. One can only wonder what her Svengali-like husband thinks of Miss Piggy’s renewed popularity…”​

He read it to her, then looked up from the paper and smiled. “He thinks it’s great!”
Piggy looked up from the mirror where she’d been clipping up her hair, her face unhappy. “Oh, Kermie—how could they even think….”
Kermit smiled indulgently. “Who cares what they think, Sweetheart? It doesn’t matter what the tabloid’s say—I’ve got the girl.”
Piggy bit her lower lip and pinned up another curl, then she turned on him again, almost savagely. “I can understand that they’d think it of me—I just don’t understand how they could think it about you!”
Kermit was dismayed to see that her eyes were full of unshed tears. He stood up, reaching for her and, with a small sob, she fell into his open arms. Kermit stroked her back and held her.
“Piggy,” he said softly, “Don’t let those vultures upset you.” He set her back from him so he could see her face. “It’s not worth it.”
“But it’s so—so mean! They don’t know anything about you—how wonderful you are! They don’t know anything about us! I would never, ever—“ Her eyes filled with tears again, and nothing Kermit said or did could stem them. He simply held her till she was all cried out, then cupped her face gently in his hands and began to kiss her tears away. Blindly, she turned to him and her lips met his urgently, seeking solace in his embrace. Comfort melted into passion, frustration gave way to desire, and finally, lost in Kermit’s arms, Piggy found her center again. Although Kermit continued to follow the fictionalized descent of their relationship, from that point forward he was careful that no tabloids crossed the threshold of their sanctuary.

Today was a bad day, Kermit thought wearily, but it was over now and they could just go home. To his surprise, Piggy met him at the limo with a small suitcase, her eyes almost fever-bright.
“Piggy—what…?” For one awful second, Kermit’s heart plummeted, then Piggy threw her arms around his neck and kissed—kissed him with bells on—only pulling back at last to look into his eyes.
“We’re going to Las Vegas,” she had said, and her eyes begged for his approval. “I want to get away—I want to be away, with you.”
Kermit’s mouth quirked up at the corners. “I didn’t pack.”
Her face was close to his, her arms tight around his neck. “You won’t need anything.”
He eyed the small valise doubtfully. “Is that—is that all you’re taking?” he asked.
“Yes,” Piggy said firmly. “That’s all.”
Kermit smiled, his heart soaring. That boded very well. He kissed her once more, for luck, and away they went.

 

[Ruahnna]

Chapter 9: Piggy the Actress

Every now and again, Lady Luck is kind, and when she is kind in Las Vegas, she is kind indeed. By happy accident, Piggy and Kermit managed both to elude the paparazzi and to have themselves photographed on one of their few forays out of their suite, holding hands and looking at over-priced jewelry in the casino store. Although they had been unaware of being photographed, seeing themselves in the paper this time brought a wave of relief and pleasure, and a little squeal of delight from Piggy, who insisted they celebrate. Gonzo, Fozzie and Scooter all called Kermit to ask him if he saw the news, but Kermit was otherwise occupied when the their calls came in, and he reviewed them later by voicemail. Piggy had received her own call from Marty, who praised her both for her luck and for having had her good side photographed. It was a happier frog and pig who returned to the studio on Monday, and for a couple of weeks, the nay-sayers were forced to print only lovey-dovey snippets about them or find other targets to make miserable.
Although she still did not venture forth alone, and she still stayed at the studio until he was done for the day, Piggy had lost the air of cool detachment she had affected and regained most of her former gloss and glory. When they had filmed the much-anticipated dance number for which they had all been preparing, Kermit had to close down the set to keep out gawkers. Once again, Kermit felt himself to be a lucky frog.
The morning shoot had gone extremely well. Kermit sat back in his director’s chair with a small “Hmm” of satisfaction.
“Oh Kermie,” Piggy said sweetly. She stood in front of him and slightly to the side, her eyes downcast in respectful deference. Kermit was not fooled for one minute, but he watched her with interest. Piggy was not above using her considerable charms to sway him professionally, and he had reason both to applaud her attempts and to rue them. “I was hoping I could ask one teensy-weensy little question about the script.” She batted her eyelashes at him. The explicitness of her flirtatiousness did nothing to alleviate its charm. Kermit’s heart gave a familiar lurch and he braced himself before responding.
“All right, Piggy,” Kermit said finally, having dispatched the flock of earnest underlings at last. “What can I do for you?”
Her dark lashes fluttered upwards and their eyes met for the briefest of instants—his teasing, hers full of challenge—then the look was veiled.
“Um, I was hoping we could discuss the script on page 243.”
Inwardly, Kermit signed. Piggy was unhappy about the resolution of the fight scene, and Kermit knew from past experience that she could lobby with single-minded dedication for changes she felt were important. She had been unhappy with the way this scene had transferred to film, and her displeasure had been obvious when they’d viewed it earlier in the week.
“Okay, Piggy,” he said, careful to keep his voice neutral. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Um—okay—here,” Piggy began, thrusting the pages unto his hands and coming to stand beside him. “See—right there where Janice is pinning the bad guy to the wall.”
“Um hum,” Kermit muttered, scanning the description of the action quickly. “Okay.”
“Well, Moi thinks that this would be more effective if the bad guy was pinned to the wall by Moi instead of Janice. After all, Moi is the leader of Fozzie’s Angels and the bad guy did kidnap Moi’s puppy.”
She faced him triumphantly.
“Well, when we were discussing this scene in the writers meeting I think the thinking was that the bad guy was so thoroughly defeated that even the least expert fighter in the group could pin him.”
He watched Piggy process this and then thoughtfully reject it. “No,” she said firmly. “Janice could not knock him down like that. It has to be Moi.”
“But Piggy, don’t you think—“
“I know I’m right about this. Janice is the wrong one to do this—we need her to be breaking into the computers and opening the hangar door.” She pointed again, leaning close, and—whether by design or accident Kermit could not say—brushed against his shoulder. It was like being zapped for a second by a powerful electric current. For a moment, Kermit could not remember what he had been about to say. He caught his breath and turned just enough to see her face out of the corner of his eyes. Her face was set in a stubborn, pouty line, and it was obvious she was unaware of the effect her proximity was having on him. For a moment, Kermit considered unilateral surrender. If she could have this effect on him without even trying, what chance did he have to withstand a determined assault? He swallowed and dragged his eyes back to the script.
“Um, let me think about it this afternoon, Piggy.”
Misreading his hesitation, Piggy flared up. “I’m not grandstanding!” she cried. At the flash of anger in her eyes, he reached out and clasped her hand firmly, holding it between his own. “I’m not putting you off, Piggy. I just need a chance to think about it.” He smiled at her--the sweet, unaffected smile that always moved her--and looked into her eyes. “Preferably when you’re not so close to me that I can’t concentrate.”
Piggy flushed, slightly embarrassed but very pleased by his open admission of befuddlement, but Piggy the actress regarded him gravely for a moment. “I would never take anything away from Janice or Camilla or the picture. I just believe this is the right conclusion to the story.”
“Then I’ll consider your request seriously—this afternoon.” He met her professionalism with his own, then an impish look stole over his face. “But if you’d like to make an appointment to lobby for anything else….”
“You’d just better hope I don’t,” Piggy growled, but her eyes were warm. She stepped back and looked at him for a moment, then turned and walked back to her trailer. Kermit could have sworn she knew he was watching, and the sweet little sashay in her walk was just for his benefit.

“Um, Mr. Kermit, sir,” Janice said nervously.
Kermit looked up from his clipboard in surprise. It had been a long time indeed since anyone he worked with had felt the need to call him ‘sir,’ and Janice seemed one of the less likely candidates.
“Yes, Janice?” he said, putting the clipboard away and devoting his attention to the lithe, blond woman standing in front of him. Her long-time boyfriend and band-mate, Floyd, stood back from their conversation, but near enough to offer moral support.
Janice shot Floyd a pleading look. “Can’t you, like, tell him what we were talking about?” she asked.
“Nope,” Floyd said firmly, but he smiled at her with great affection. “You’re the bomb, Babe—and now you’re the star. You gotta talk to the green man yourself if you want to get respect.”
“Go ahead, Janice,” Kermit suggested gently, and Floyd felt a great surge of appreciation and respect. The little green dude’s got a great way with people, he thought. He’ll do the right thing.
“Yeah, c’mon, Sugar—tell him,” Floyd said in an encouraging way, patting her affectionately. Janice smiled at him gratefully and some of her nervousness abated.
“Well, like, I’m really, totally buzzed to be acting in this movie,” Janice said, “cuz, like, I know how many other actresses wanted the part.”
“Well, Janice,” Kermit said seriously, hoping to put her at ease. “We never really considered anyone else for this role—this part was written for you.”
“Oh, like, wow!” Janice said, clearly surprised. “That’s like, so, amazing.”
“Not at all,” Kermit said. “I should have told you, but we all assumed you knew. What did you want to ask me?”
“Well, like, I’m just totally not sure about the fight scene,” Janice said nervously. “I mean, like, the scene in the bar where we’re dancing, like, in those little outfits—“
“Yeah—I like that scene,” Floyd said with gusto.
“That’s like, more my speed, but, you know, fighting is like, not really me.”
“I thought the dailies were okay,” Kermit said, but in truth, the scene had not built to conclusion the way he had hoped. “Is there something specific you’d like me to change?”
“Well, like the part where I pin the bad guy is so totally negative and everything. I mean, I know he’s the bad guy, but, you know, I’m like not really the aggressive type.”
Kermit bravely resisted the urge to look at Floyd, whom he could tell was giving him a look that said, plainly, “Oh, no?” Watching their partners in this movie had forged a peculiar bond between Kermit, Floyd and Gonzo, but Kermit refused to be baited. He was the director here, not just Piggy’s lover and husband, and he owed Janice the respect of his attention.
“What could we do to make that scene work better for you?” he asked.
Janice looked thoughtful, twirling her hair around her finger.
“Like, couldn’t Piggy pin the bad guy while I’m hacking into the computers to open the hangar door? She is like, soooo into the fighting thing.”
Inwardly, Kermit sighed. It was the right thing to do—he had probably known all along that Piggy was right, but he couldn’t swear to his motivation for not rectifying the situation earlier. Had he been too stubborn to give in and admit Piggy had been right? Or had he simply been enjoying her subtle and not-so-subtle ploys to show him the error of his ways?
“That’s a good idea, Janice,” Kermit said. “Let me work on the script tonight and we’ll try to reshoot tomorrow while everybody’s still fresh.”
“Like, thanks, Mr. Kermit,” Janice said, her generous mouth smiling at him. “I’m, like, totally buzzed to be working with you.” She turned and, taking Floyd’s hand, walked out toward the parking lot.

Flowers or candy? Kermit wondered? Jewelry? All three? He would have to admit his folly tonight, and Piggy was not above demanding her due. Maybe, he thought desperately, if I just blurt it out the second I get home… In the end, it was chocolates and carnations, and what he hoped was a suitably humble expression when he crossed the threshold that evening. Piggy had preceded him home today for the first time in a long time, but instead of a quiet house, with Piggy reading or soaking, Kermit found the door opened by an alluring vision in a wisp of a hostess gown. No muu-muu tonight, Kermit thought. Something savory and spicy was wafting to his taste buds, making him realize how hungry he was. It was obvious that Piggy had an evening of all-out campaigning planned.
Oh, well, Kermit thought, surrendering his hat and himself to the evening. She’ll find out tomorrow.

Kermit cleared his throat, wondering how to phrase this. He had anticipated an impassioned crusade from her this evening, but he had been woefully under-prepared for the overpowering full frontal assault Piggy has so cunningly engineered, wreaking havoc with his senses and leaving him with little breath for argument. If she’d asked him for anything now, he could not refuse her, for this sweet, docile-appearing pig had given everything she had to the cause.
He lay still for a moment longer, enjoying the sweet press of Piggy’s form where they were intertwined on the big leather couch. Despite the fact that Piggy did not cook—at all—she had managed to have all his favorites, and the shoo-fly pie for dessert had very nearly finished him off. Luckily, Piggy had been concerned enough about his health to arrange for him to work off some of his dinner in a satisfactorily energetic way. Sated, content on every level, Kermit took a moment to bask in the glory of being Kermit the Frog.
“I have to tell you something, Piggy,” Kermit murmured at last. Piggy stirred but did not raise her head from his shoulder.
“I’m listening.”
How to begin…. “Um, I’ve been thinking over those script changes we talked about earlier.”
“Hmm?” Piggy sounded drowsy and relaxed, but Kermit was positive one of her velvety ears had perked up against his neck.
“You were right, Piggy. I should have had you taking the lead in the fight scene instead of Janice. We’re going to reshoot it the way you want.”
Piggy was silent, but she continued tracing little designs on his chest with her fingers, making his skin hum with pleasure. At last she spoke.
“I’m glad.”
“Good. Me too.”
There was another languid pause in conversation but Piggy’s warm little hands continued their maddening dance.
“Anything in particular make you change your mind?” she asked sweetly.
Kermit let out a short bark of laughter, then pulled her more firmly into his arms and kissed her. He was smiling when he ended the kiss, but his expression was stern as he looked down into her eyes.
“Everything you do to me drives me crazy,” he began. “I think I must be the luckiest frog on the entire planet because I’ve got you to come home to, but I want you to know that that’s not why I changed the script.”
“No?” Piggy’s voice was teasing, but there was something stirring in her eyes, something wistful that moved him in ways he couldn’t explain.
Kermit shook his head slowly, then leaned forward and kissed her mouth gently, in no hurry to pull back.
“I changed it because Piggy the Actress was right.”
She looked at him for a moment, her eyes filling with tears.
“Because you’re an incredible, talented pig with excellent instincts for what will make her characters believable.”
Her lower lip began to tremble. Kermit wanted to kiss it again, but he restrained himself for a moment longer.
“Because you’re an actress that any director would be thrilled to be working with. I’m privileged to be working with you, Honey, and I want you to know I know it.”
“Oh, Kermie.”
And when Kermit finally bent to her, he found that—for the second time that day—he was completely wrong. Piggy had not even begun to give him everything it was in her power to offer.

 

[Ruahnna]

Whew--I think I'm done for the day. Don't like to end things on a negative note.
How'm I doing? Anybody bored or scandalized? I'm walking a fine line here....

 

[Leyla]

Ooh, I'm so happy I don't even know where to begin! Two new parts to rave about!

What an emotional roller coaster this story is turning out to be! I'm gonna miss it when I'm gone! It's just so... wow.

I'm really liking Marty, like I enjoy all the characters that are floating in and around Piggy and Kermit's life. Oh, it's just so amazing how they just cling to each other all the tighter when the world keeps trying to pull them apart. Somehow you manage to write heartbreaking and heartwarming stuff at the same time Ruahnna, and it's simply overwhelming.

It was early, early in the morning when Kermit’s cell phone began to beep. It took him a moment to orient himself, then launch out of bed and begin the frantic search for the source of the annoying noise. He finally found it—still clipped to his trousers—in the clothing which had been strewn hastily around the room the night before. He jerked it open at the last minute, stammering a sleepy hello.

So they had a nice night, I see. I liked picturing Kermit scurrying around like that trying to find the elusive phone. It's so nice how all their friends banded together around them. So much love there.

“Kermit—thank goodness!” It was Gonzo, but he sounded more relieved than Kermit could account for. “Where are you?”
“I’m home, Gonzo.” In bed, Gonzo.

Gonzo either stayed up very late or got up very early, and given his odd ways, neither would surprise me. It's sweet how desperate he was to warn them. I can just picture him trying to get Rizzo up for their mission of mercy, presuming they're still roommates in your story.
Anyway, all through this I felt this enormous sense of dread.

“No Gonzo—I’m not.” I’m freezing my tushie off here in the stairs—talking to a lunatic.
“Maybe you better sit down.”
“Why—what is it? Are you in jail?”

Oh, I love grumpy morning Kermit and the conclusions he's jumping to. I wonder how many times Gonzo's called him from jail!
Kermits reaction to the news made me feel the same sense of horror. Oh, what they have to go through!

“Is Piggy up yet?
“No,” Kermit answered, but at the same moment a soft voice behind him said “Yes.” She looked at him, her face pale.
“Is everyone okay? Is someone hurt?”

Oh, and the first thing she asks is about someone else... my heart hurts.
I'm not usually a fanfic cryer, but ooh, when Piggy started to cry she almos took me with her. Poor thing!

I think I'm gonna develop a serious antipathy towards the media by the end of this story. Useless gawkers... just horrible! On a happier note, Scooter's getting the blinds, Rizzo's cooking and Fozzie's comforting was just so sweet and loving. I love when the Muppets are being familial.

If he could have gotten his hands on the man responsible, he wasn’t sure what would have happened.

Ooh, scary thought from Kermit. Don't mess with the pig's frog's pig! By which I mean if Kermit got in over his head trying to defend her, they'd have to deal with her defending him. Hi-Ya!

Marty's plan for protecting Piggy's reputation is rather chilling in its necesscity. Have I said that I like him yet? 'cause I really do. I like that he really cares about them, both of them, and this:

“But you know—you know, don'tcha—Piggy would rather die than hurt you.”

makes me get all teary. She's gotta be so afraid that Kermit might start to believe all the slander. I worried about Kermit too, it's not good to bury his own hurt. Might spell trouble.

Kermit had never wanted to believe anything more.

That's great writing, right there. What a last line. It's hopeful... but not entirely hopeful. He wants to believe it'll be okay, but he doesn't entirely, and neither do I which has got me all tensed up, in a good suspenseful kind of way.

I have to go to my volunteer work shortly so I'll have to review the rest of it later, but amazing job Ruahnna, consistantly amazing.

Leyla

 

[Leyla]

Oh my goodness, you ziffled me with another part. Fun!

I'm glad you left off on a happier note, Ru, so I can wait with a smile rather than being all fretful.

I like your description of the more positive article and using their oppnent's weapons to help them. I wouldn't reading that article actually; it sounds like it would be an interesting read.

Again, I find Kermit and Piggy's trying to protect eachother very, very touching, and all of that culminates very nicely when Piggy says she can't believe people would think so lowly of him.

I really like the look you give us on Piggy as an actress, her approach to her profession and the pride she takes in it. You set things up very well and your description of Piggy and Kermit watching the dailies leads perfectly into the whole chapter "Piggy the Actress." It's also really wonderful to see Kermit having and admitting his respect for her rather than him getting charmed into letting her have her own way because she can, or because she's grandstanding. I find myself respecting Kermit more as well.

Depending on her mood and her shrewd judgment, Piggy either accepted them with excellent manners and did her best to charm them, or did phenomenal diva grandstanding, making them flee in terror.

Ooh, I love that! It's so funny, and so... Piggy. I also liked the proposals she gets in the mail. Hilarious!

“If I’d wanted to go out with children, I’d have had some.” It was as close as she had managed to come to laughing about it.

Heehee, I like that too... and of course it also makes me curious if Kermit and Piggy decided not to have kids, decided to put it off for a while, or simply couldn't have kids. What an odd genetic mishmash that would be.

So after the funny stuff that lightens the mood, you swing once again into reminding us that all is not well. Another dip on the coaster. I think I'm running out of words to tell you how much I'm enjoying this, but boy, I really am. Poor Piggy and Kermit, it's just so sad what they're going through, and right when they should be happiest too!

Loved the spur of the moment trip to Vegas, and Kermit's pleased reaction to how little Piggy packed.

Piggy had received her own call from Marty, who praised her both for her luck and for having had her good side photographed.

That's very funny. I still like Marty.

Piggy's simpering up to Kermit never fails to amuse me and Kermit's reactions are just priceless.

For a moment, Kermit considered unilateral surrender. If she could have this effect on him
without even trying, what chance did he have to withstand a determined assault?

None at all, Kermie, just give in. You know you want to.

The whole scene with Janice and Floyd is just so much fun, and I love that they're doing a Charlie's Angels film. Now you can sue, Ru, if they ever actually do do one. I like Janice's dialogue. She's such a valley girl.

It was obvious that Piggy had an evening of all-out campaigning planned.
Oh, well, Kermit thought, surrendering his hat and himself to the evening. She’ll find out tomorrow.

Oh, that's so, so devious of him! Oh my gosh I love that part. Shame on him though.

Sated, content on every level, Kermit took a moment to bask in the glory of being Kermit the Frog.

Great line!

“I changed it because Piggy the Actress was right.”
She looked at him for a moment, her eyes filling with tears.

Oh, darn it. I went and melted again!
I love this story... I just really, really love this story. Hugs!

 

[redBoobergurl]

Wow! Two more great chapters! I'm really enjoying this story and I don't think you're walking a fine line and I'm not bored or scandalized. I'm really hooked! It's so dramatic and romantic and I really like it! I like that you have them shooting a version of Charlie's Angels, I think that's neat! Anyway, keep on writing, I'm really enjoying this!

 

[Ruahnna]

Oh good--I'm gearing up for the next installment, but I've been shang-hai'd by another bit. Posting soon!

 

[Leyla]

Yay for shang-haiing!

 

[Ruahnna]

Chapter 10: Christmas in Vegas

“Hey, Piggy—we got an invitation to cover a show in Vegas during the holidays. You want to do it?”
It was the week before Thanksgiving, and everyone was looking forward to the abbreviated schedule the following week, but it made this week positively frantic. Kermit was walking so fast that Scooter had to trot to keep up. This was nothing new. With a skill born of much practice, Scooter could shuffle papers, juggle appointments and appease personalities at light speed, making him invaluable as an assistant. Kermit leaned on him as comfortably as a third leg, knowing Scooter wouldn’t let him down.
“I know it’s not a lot of notice but—what? Speak up, Sweetheart—I can’t hear you.” Very distinctly in the background, Kermit heard Thoreau say, “Piggy—put the phone down now. I am trying to mark this hemline and you are ruining--” Piggy murmured something that sounded sweet but Thoreau broke off muttering immediately.
“Well, you know some of the guys are taking off for Christmas, so we’re closing down the set and we’ll have a few weeks to-- Um, let’s see, Fozzie wants to come and, um Gonzo. Clifford said he’ll come, and I think the band is up. I think we can get up enough for a decent revue.”
“Don’t forget to tell her Rowlf will come if she needs him,” Scooter whispered, consulting his hand-held. “She may want a piano player.”
“Couple to three weeks,” Kermit was answering. “Yes, I know it’d mean being away from home at Christmas, but they’ve promised to put us up at the casino. Rowlf said he’d come, too. We could—what?”
He stopped so suddenly that Scooter would have crashed into him—should have crashed into him—but veered around him expertly.
“Yes—in the penthouse,” Kermit said, exchanging big smiles with Scooter. “You’re sure?” A bigger smile. “Great—thanks, Honey—I think it’ll be fun, too. Love you.” He closed the little phone.
“Call and tell them it’s a go,” Kermit said to Scooter, sighing with relief. “Tell everybody I want to see them on Soundstage A after lunch for a quick meeting. And can you make arrangements with the hotel for Animal to—“
“Already on it, Boss,” Scooter said, cradling his phone against his ear while he jabbed numbers into his handheld. He’d managed to take notes on Kermit’s phone conversation, check air fares the 2nd week in December and get Kermit’s signature on two pieces of paper while they walked (ran) to Kermit’s office, where Scooter left him to go to the sound booth.
Mentally, Kermit was thinking through the logistics of pulling together a revue with a scant two handfuls of people, and feeling pretty comfortable. In truth, part of him was thrilled. What a great creative break for all of them. Movies were wonderful, but you didn’t get live feedback from a movie. Nothing could replace the feel that you were—against all odds—connecting with your audience, not only making them happy, but seeing that happiness on faces seated near you. What a rush this was going to be, going back to their roots. He sank into the depths of his desk chair with a deep sigh. And, he thought grimly, getting out of town wouldn’t be half bad, either.
In the absence of anything new to report, the rumor mill had fallen into a grudging ceasefire. Piggy granted interviews to those interviewers she trusted or to whom she could dictate terms—and those terms always included a protective hedge around her marriage and her man. There were pictures of the the Frogs eating out, going to parties, arriving on the set for work. There were even occasional pictures from the set, which was ostensibly closed to unauthorized visitors, but since Kermit wasn’t the last word on who was and who was not authorized, he could do little but fume and threaten. Janice had even complained about being dogged by reporters who followed her home, but Floyd had dealt with that annoyance rather handily himself—with a little help from Animal. That problem, at least, had not reappeared.
Piggy had been totally on-target at work, but there were times when Kermit looked up and met her eyes only to find worry mingled with bemusement and passion in their blue depths. He knew she worried about him—about the effect this ordeal was having on him—and he did everything he could think of to show her that it was not bothering him. But no amount of creative lying on Kermit’s part would convince Piggy—Piggy who loved him with every fiber of her being—that he was unaffected.
Even before he had been willing to admit that he didn’t want a future without Piggy in it, the specter of jealousy had reared its ugly head more than once in their relationship, casting doubt on his indifference and his intentions, and giving Piggy hope that he was not as unmoved as he appeared. In that regard, his jealous nature had served him well, but now it buzzed almost constantly in his head, undermining the substructure of his life. It was not, Kermit told himself firmly, that he ever doubted Piggy’s unwavering affection, and yet…and yet…. Some small part of Kermit the Frog still found it hard to live comfortably in his skin—to live with the success and happiness that had seemed to fall on him out of the sky, to live with the extreme good fortune of making a living by making others happy--surrounded by friends and family—and to have found a love too stubborn to give up on his hesitant, undemonstrative nature until she broke through to the tender, passionate frog beneath. There were times, Kermit had to admit, that it all seemed too wonderful, too perfect, to be real, to be bona fide, to last.
With a sharp shake of his head, Kermit pushed the pesky thoughts away. He was being ridiculous. His life wasn’t a pie-in-the-sky dream! It was backed up by hard work and hope—buoyed by the effort and affection of his friends. Maybe he just needed a break. Maybe they all did. And, hey--Vegas had been kind to him and Piggy earlier this year, Kermit mused, giving them a respite from the daily grind and putting the the Frogs back into the public eye in a positive light. A working Christmas didn’t bother any of them—they’d worked Christmases before. Maybe—just maybe--Christmas in Vegas was what they all needed.