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“They’re coming—they’re coming!” shouted Scooter excitedly. “It’s really them this time!”
“Oh, I was so worried,” said Fozzie anxiously. “I was afraid their train would be delayed again.”
“They’re getting out of the taxi now,” said Gonzo.
“Oh, like, look! They look so cute!”
“Wow—they’re really married now. I can’t believe it.”
“Yeah—the little green man must have taken leave of his senses,” came Floyd Pepper’s raspy voice. There was the sound of a smack, then, “Hey baby—I was just jokin’—you know I’m behind the frog.”
The studio door began to open.
If Kermit had entertained hopes of making anything resembling a discreet entrance, those hopes were dashed the instant he poked his head around the door frame and saw dozens of eager eyes all staring back. Kermit gulped.
“Um, hello everyone. We’re, um, back.” The rest of Kermit appeared, followed closely by the whole of Piggy. The scrutiny they received was friendly but intense, and Piggy pressed against Kermit’s back as though fearful of some unexpected attack.
This is awful, thought Scooter. I should do something, but he stayed rooted where he was, unable to move.
There was a sudden commotion at the back of the room and, seemingly without any social discomfort at all, Fozzie plowed serenely through the masses, walked right up to Kermit and embraced him.
“Welcome back, Kermit,” he said happily. “How was your trip?”
Without waiting for an answer, Fozzie released Kermit and moved to enfold Piggy in a warm hug.
“You look just lovely, Piggy,” Fozzie said simply. He turned with one arm around each of them. “C’mon guys,” he said sternly. “Let’s give a big warm welcome to Kermit and Piggy, Mr. and Mrs. The Frog.”
With enthusiasm, the crowd surged forward, the ice broken once and for always. When Gonzo got in line to hug Piggy for the third time, she forgot her shyness and swatted him hard enough to make him see stars.
“Thank you,” he murmured, staggering happily back toward his dressing room.
“Did you have a good time?” Bunsen Honeydew asked, peering myopically through his glasses but beaming at them fondly.
Beside him, Kermit felt Piggy stiffen with suppressed laughter. He dared not look at her while a blush suffused his cheeks.
“Um, yes,” Kermit said firmly. “Yes—it was very nice.”
“Bet you saw some beautiful sights,” Rowlf said, eyes wide. Kermit turned and met his friend’s eyes, more than passing aware of Rowlf’s devilry.
I will get you for this, Kermit’s look said plainly, but he nodded and smiled perfunctorily. “Oh yeah,” he said casually. “Gorgeous.”
Scooter finally snapped out of his reverie and began to herd people away from the somewhat flustered couple.
“C’mon, people,” he said, playing traffic cop. “We’re trying to get ready for the first shoot of the day, and I’m sure we’d all like to be done before lunch.” Grumbling, people dispersed.
At last, it was only Scooter and the happy couple. Kermit turned to Piggy, took her gently into his arms and kissed her chastely on the lips while Scooter tried not to gawp. Kermit released her and she floated blissfully toward her dressing room.
“Stage call in twenty,” Kermit called after her.
“Yes, Mon Capitan,” Piggy said obediently. Scooter fought to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. At last, he turned and grinned at Kermit in delight.
“So…married life is…good?”
“Oh yeah,” Kermit said fervently. “It’s terrific.” He looked at Scooter and the gopher actually saw him shifting gears from husband to director. “Catch me up, Scooter. What did you get done while we were, um, gone.”
Scooter heaved a quiet sigh of relief. He’d obviously been worried for nothing. Kermit was still the same director, the same boss, the same frog he had always been. That would never change.
“Well,” Scooter said. “We filmed part of the letter sequence scenes. I think they went well—you can take a look at them whenever you’re ready. Today, we’re supposed to do, um…” He flipped pages frantically. “Quelle difference, but that’s after lunch, and right now we’re queuing up for the bus terminal scenes. Oh, and I wanted to get You Can’t Take No for an Answer in the can today.”
“The Electric Mayhem ready?”
“Always—well, Animal probably needs to be walked first.”
They were moving now. “When do we go on location?”
“Later in the week. We’re still waiting on park permits. We’ll probably do the street scenes first, then let everybody but you and Miss, um—“ Scooter broke off suddenly, cheeks coloring a little, and looked at Kermit helplessly.
“It’s okay, Scooter. She may be Mrs. The Frog now, but she’ll always be Miss Piggy.”
“Oh, good,” Scooter said with a heartfelt sigh. “I just—I hadn’t thought about it.”
“There’s a lot to think about,” Kermit said with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m learning something new every day.”
For a second, Scooter just stared at him, not sure whether to be reassured or scandalized. Before he could formulate a response, Kermit was moving again, shedding his traveling clothes as he walked. “Anything else I need to know about the week?”
Scooter consulted his clipboard hurriedly. “No, I don’t think—oh. Well, the scene we’d talked about earlier—the one you weren’t sure about doing last week? We’re scheduled to do that on Friday.”
“Friday,” Kermit mused, his expression thoughtful. “I think by Friday it will be fine.” He turned and put a hand on Scooter’s arm. “Thanks for minding the store while we were gone. And on short notice, too.”
“Sure thing, Boss. Glad to help.”
They grinned at each other.
“Um, boss?”
“Yeah, Scooter?
“You need to change.”
“Oh!” Kermit looked down at the remains of his traveling clothes. “Yes. Guess I better.” He trotted off. Scooter stood for a moment, lost in thought. Fozzie came up and stood beside him.
“Good to have everybody home,” Fozzie said with a sigh,. “Now things can get back to normal.”
Scooter gave him a look. “Back to normal?” he teased. “Since when has anything around here been normal?”
Fozzie tried to look stern. “You know what I mean”
“Yes, I do,” Scooter admitted. “Hey—I wanted to ask you about your hibernation scene. Did you look at the new script pages?”
Fozzie gulped. “Um, yes,” he quavered. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that….”
They walked off together toward the dressing rooms, but Fozzie’s voice floated back clearly.
“Um, is it really necessary to have a coed cave?”
“Time to go,” Kermit said much later that day, his hands clasping Piggy’s plump arms and pulling her close.
“Home?” she asked, her expression tender. Home with Kermit, she thought giddily. I’m going home with Kermit.
“Um hum.” He leaned forward, unable to touch her without wanting to claim a kiss.
“Where?” Piggy asked. Kermit stopped in mid-pucker.
“Where?” he repeated blankly, scrunching up his whole face.
Piggy put her arms around his neck, slipping her hands beneath his frill. “Yes—where?” she repeated patiently. “Your place or mine.”
Kermit continued to look blank.
“I, um, I didn’t think that far ahead,” he admitted sheepishly.
Piggy started to giggle. “Um, my place is bigger.”
“Only in closet space. And you never have any food at your place.”
“You never have anything I can eat at your place, either,” she protested.
Kermit pulled her a little closer. “We’ll send out for something,” he murmured, leaning in for a kiss. Piggy dodged him determinedly, intent on settling the question at hand.
“But I don’t have any clothes at your apartment,” Piggy insisted, and inhaled sharply at the keen look of interest on Kermit’s face.
“And this is a problem?” he asked mischievously. Piggy put a hand over his mouth, blushing furiously and looking around to make sure they were not overheard. There was no one close by. Kermit pressed a smoldering kiss against her open palm, and when she jerked it free, he took advantage of her distraction to tug her in tight and kiss her. Her surprise quickly changed to enthusiastic participation, and they stood just outside Piggy’s dressing room door kissing to beat the band. If the entire cast and crew had wandered by, seen them and bought tickets it is doubtful they would have cared.
Kermit played his trump card. “My apartment is closer,” he murmured. Piggy let out a shaky breath.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll get my coat.”
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