The Watcher lurked nearby. The sweet smell of revenge had already reached his nostrils. Caine would pay this time. Yes, he would succeed. Failure was no longer an option. He would make Kwai Chang Caine miserable... an then he would take his life. Debts must be paid.

The cold suddenly overcame his bodily control and he shivered. He hated the cold. He comforted himself with the old saying: Revenge is a dish that is best served cold.

The fresh six inches of snow that had fallen earlier that morning made it easy for Peter to track Sarah as she made her way across the park. Though he had a good idea of where she had headed and what she was up to, he still smiled when he saw the second set of smaller prints that joined hers. Ti Lo, he thought. Then there was a third, and a fourth, until finally there were so many sets of tracks that Peter could no longer distinguish them.

He made his way across the park to the "Reading Tree," as Sarah called it. In nice weather she often gathered a group of children there and read to them. Peter shivered and pulled his coat closer around himself. She's certainly not reading out here today, he thought.

He pulled up short when he discovered exactly what she and the children had been doing on this frosty day. An enormous snowcastle, complete with turrets and ramparts, stood in front of him. How long have they been working on this thing, he mused.

A head popped up over one of the ramparts. "Halt! Who goes there?" It was Ti Lo.

Peter grinned. "It is I, Sir Peter," he called out in the most theatrical voice he could muster.

It was Sarah's head that next popped up over the castle wall. "Halt, good Sir. Have you the message from the king?"

"I have, my Lady. I bring a message from King Caine," Peter played along. "He says, and I'm paraphrasing here, Get your butt inside, it's too cold for you out here today." Caine had sent Peter to retrieve Sarah before she ended up with frostbite.

Sarah chuckled. She looked down at her troops inside the castle. Their faces were eager in anticipation of what was about to happen next. She grinned at them, making motions that sent them scurrying in all directions within the castle. "My good Sir," she addressed Peter, "If you wish me removed from this castle, than you will just have to storm the gates. I should warn you, though, that my faithful knights will fight you, to the death if necessary."

At this statement the heads of approximately a dozen children popped up. They looked at Peter with merriment in their eyes and Peter knew he was about to be bombarded.

He unwound the white scarf he was wearing and held it aloft. "But I come under the flag of truce," he protested.

"Truce or no truce, if you want me, you'll have to come and take me!" she shouted across the distance.

Oh, I want you all right, Hwa-ren, Peter thought to himself, but this is not exactly what I had in mind.

Sarah was crooking her finger at him. She didn't want him to disappoint the children.

Peter sighed and resigned himself to the concept of being battered by at least a dozen snowballs. He waved on his invisible troops and shouted, "Forward men! Storm the gates!" He began to run towards the castle and was immediately under attack. He did his best to dodge the snowballs, but several of them hit their mark.

He could hear Sarah's joyous laughter as he entered the castle. He raced up to her and grabbed her, slinging her up over his shoulder and quickly running back the way he had come, her troops hot on his heels. "I've got you now, Princess," he laughed.

Suddenly Peter lost his footing in the slick snow, and the two of them tumbled to the ground in a heap, laughing. Peter reached over to brush snow from her face, his heart full of joy. She winked at him and kissed him soundly on the lips.

By then the children had all caught up with them and they pounced on Peter. "Hey, hey, all right already! I surrender!" The mighty Shaolin priest was begging mercy from a group of children, and loving every minute of it. He winced when Ti Lo slid a handful of snow down the collar of his coat. "That's cold, Ti Lo!" he scolded the little boy, who offered him a sly grin and flew to Sarah's protective embrace.

"All right, kids, that's enough," she informed them. "We're all going to Sifu Peter's for hot chocolate and cookies!" The children cheered. She pulled Peter up out of the snow. "Why don't you guys run on ahead and put the kettles on?" she instructed. "Ti Lo, you run upstairs to my place and get the book we're reading, okay?"

Ti Lo swelled with pride at having such an important task. The children ran off, leaving Peter and Sarah to stroll home in a more leisurely fashion. There were definite advantages to not locking doors.

"I thought you didn't like the cold, Hwa-ren," Peter queried.

"I don't, but the kids really wanted to build a castle. How could I deny them?" The children were Sarah's soft spot. She'd do practically anything for them and they knew it. It was they who had first nicknamed her Hwa-ren, the Flower Lady, because of her tendency to wear flower print shirts.

Peter put his arm around her shoulder as they walked along the sidewalk and pulled her close to him. "They've got you wrapped around their little fingers," he stated. He chuckled. "But then, you've got me wrapped around your little finger, don't you?"

She stopped and blue eyes met hazel. "Do I, Peter?"

"You know it, Hwa-ren." His eyes began to smolder and he drew her to him for a passionate kiss. "Maybe it's not so cold out here after all," he murmured.

Lo Si startled them by announcing from behind the pair, "I think that would be a more appropriate activity for indoors on a day like today, Young Caine. This flower has been out in the cold for too long already." They had lingered too long and Caine had sent the cavalry after both of them.

"Yes, Lo Si," Peter responded. "I'll get her inside immediately." He took Sarah's arm and the two began to hustle towards home. They left Lo Si behind, chuckling and shaking his head at them.

"Ahhh, young love," he sighed. "I would not want to be their age again for all the tea in China."

The older children had the teakettles warming on the stove when Peter and Sarah arrived at Peter's apartment. They peeled off the layers of coats, gloves, and hats and joined the children in Peter's living area. Peter insisted on taking Sarah's socks off and checking her feet for signs of frostbite.

"I'm telling you, Peter, they're fine. However, while you're down there, if you'd like to rub them, I certainly won't stop you." Peter tossed her feet off his lap once he was sure no frostbite had set in. The children laughed.

Sarah picked up her book and looked around at the children. "Are you ready?" she asked. They nodded eagerly. Ti Lo snuggled up next to Sarah. The others accepted the fact that Ti Lo always got the seat of honor next to Sarah. "Okay, then. Peter, you've got hot chocolate duty," she informed him. She began to read, entrancing the children and Peter as well with her melodic voice that brought the characters to life.

The sun was already beginning to set when she sent the children home. "Remember to get your homework done before Monday," she reminded, "Or else no more fun Saturdays like this! Your teachers all know where to find me," she warned them, "and I know where to find you!"

When they were gone she rejoined Peter on the couch. She settled into his waiting arms with a contented sigh. He kissed the top of her head. "I'm surprised your father didn't come down here to check on me."

"He knows you're fine," Peter informed her. "I told him after I checked your feet."

"How... never mind. I forget about that link you two have."

Peter chuckled. "Sometimes I forget about that link we have. Sometimes Pop hears stuff I have no intention of him hearing."

"That could be embarrassing."

"Oh, yeah." Sarah giggled at his imitation of Kermit.

"Peter, do you?" Peter cut her off, sealing her mouth with his own. Sometimes you talk too much, Hwa-ren, he thought. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his waist and drawing him closer.

Just as Peter thought things were going exactly the way he wanted, she suddenly stiffened in his arms. She drew back from him, placing her hand on his chest and shoving him away.

This is new, Peter thought, usually when she's had enough, she's a little more subtle about disengaging.

"Peter." There was a look of panic on her face.

Damn, I was sure we'd made more progress than this, he thought. He didn't think he'd pushed her too hard. "Sarah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push..." he began.

"No, Peter, it's not that. Something's wrong." She jumped up off the sofa and began to pace. "Check on your father," she ordered him. "Call him on that inter-cranial intercom you guys have and check on him."

"Okay, Sarah, no problem." {Pop? }

{Yes, Peter? } Caine's voice drifted softly through Peter's mind.

{Is everything okay? Sarah's having some sort of intuition about a problem. She wanted me to check in with you. }

{I am fine, my son. } Peter broke the mental connection with his father.

"He's fine, Sarah." Peter recognized the tension in Sarah. He had experienced premonitions before, and they could be highly disconcerting. She was pacing the floor, clearly agitated.

Suddenly she snatched his phone from the base and dialed madly. "Yes, fifth floor, NIC, please." There was a pause while her call was connected.

Who is she calling? Peter wondered.

"Cindie, it's Sarah. Is Sam okay? DAMN!"

Peter was shocked. He had never heard Sarah curse before.

"How long? All right, I'm on my way. Tell him I'm coming." She hung up the phone and headed for the door, jumping into her boots without socks and grabbing for her outer garments. She stopped to quickly kiss Peter on the cheek and offer a brief explanation, "Sorry, Sweetie, I've got to go. A friend needs me." She was out the door before he could even formulate a response.

Well, at least it wasn't me that caused her reaction, Peter mused. Maybe we are making progress. Who the hell is Sam? He wasn't sure if jealousy was an appropriate response or not.

Peter decided to head upstairs and see what his father knew about this Sam character. As he entered his father's apartment, he ran smack into Mary Margaret Skalany, who was on her way out the door. His father was one step behind her.

"Sorry, Skalany," Peter apologized for nearly knocking her off her feet. He took in the sight before him. "Where are you two headed?"

"Out." Caine's answer was succinct, as usual.

Mary Margaret, on the other hand, took pity on Peter. "We're going for dinner," she informed him. "Where's Sarah?"

"Who knows? She had some premonition of trouble, made a phone call, and took off on me." Peter tried to gather some sympathy for his plight. It didn't work.

Caine reached out to lightly slap Peter's face. "I am sure it was important, my son, if she... left you in a lurch?"

"Pop, has she mentioned a friend named Sam to you?" He turned to include Mary Margaret in his question, "Or you?"

Caine shook his head and shrugged.

Mary Margaret laughed at him. "Peter Caine, are you jealous? Get over it," she instructed him. "You know that Sarah is crazy about you. Do you think we plotted for weeks before the Policeman's Ball because you were just a passing fancy for her? Sarah's not like that, and you know it."

Peter's face flushed as he recalled the night that he and Sarah had discovered that they were soul mates, the night they had admitted their love for one another. You are being ridiculous, he told himself, Skalany's right.

He grinned sheepishly at them. "You're right. Well, you guys have fun tonight." He turned to tease his father, "Don't be out too late." {Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Pop. } He continued his teasing along their link so Skalany wouldn't hear it.

{And that would leave, what, my son? } Caine zinged him right back. Peter laughed, and Mary Margaret looked at the two of them strangely. She knew something unspoken had passed between them, but she didn't know what.

Caine offered Mary Margaret his arm, and escorted her out the door, leaving Peter behind, still feeling somewhat sorry for himself. I finally found my soul mate, he mused, and I still don't have a date for Saturday night.

As they left the restaurant Mary Margaret made her standard offer. "Do you want to come back to my place?" She never knew if it was a night when he would take her up on it or not. His eyes were generally unreadable.

"Ahh, a tempting offer," he murmured, taking her hand and kissing the palm, a gesture he knew Mary Margaret liked, "Perhaps another time?"

Mary Margaret knew he wasn't just handing her a line. If Caine said some other time, then he meant some other time. She nodded her assent. "At least let me give you a ride back home," she insisted, "It's way too cold for you to walk."

She dropped him in front of the building. He gave her a gentle kiss. "Drive carefully." Caine was economical with words. Perhaps if they had realized it was the last conversation they'd have for some time, he might have had more to say.

The phone call woke Peter from a sound sleep. Kermit Griffin was on the other end of the line; his normally even voice trembling with barely controlled anger. "Peter, get your father and get over here to City Hospital, now!"

Peter was suddenly filled with adrenaline. "What's going on, Kermit?" He sought Sarah's presence on the third floor above him and was greatly relieved when he found it. She was sleeping peacefully, but not for much longer.

"It's Skalany, Pete. She's hurt pretty bad."

"Be there in 15, Kermit." He hung the phone up, threw on some clothes and ran to the third floor. He thumped on Sarah's door first. "Sarah, get dressed, let's go." He left it at that. He knew she would read the urgency in his voice.

He turned to face his father's door and paused to calm himself. He hadn't called his father mentally because he wanted to be with him when he gave him the news. He knocked once for politeness' sake and entered his father's apartment.

Peter somewhat expected to find his father already dressed and ready to go. He knew his shielding didn't always keep his father from reading his thoughts. He was startled to find his father sleeping. He always wakes when someone enters, Peter thought. What's going on?

He placed his hand gently on his father's shoulder. "Pop?" No response. So he shook him lightly, while speaking a bit louder, "Pop?"

Caine gasped and sat bolt upright, sweat dripping from his body. His eyes were glazed and unfocused. "Mary Margaret!" he called out.

Peter was stunned. He'd never seen his father like this. "Yeah, Pop. Mary Margaret needs you, needs us, right now. We have to go." He pulled his father to his feet, handing him clothing.

Sarah met the two of them in the hall. She gave Caine a concerned glance before questioning Peter, "What's going on?"

"It's Mary Margaret. Kermit called and said she's been hurt. That's all I know. She's at City Hospital," Peter told her as they rushed down the stairs and out into the bitter night.

They found Kermit with Karen Simms in the waiting area of the hospital. The nurses were avoiding Kermit like the plague and they were equally unhappy at Peter's appearance. The two of them were known for giving nurses a generally rough time whether they were the patient or the friends of a patient.

"What's the story, Kermit?" Peter asked his friend. "How's Skalany?"

It was Karen Simms who answered him. "We don't know yet, Peter. We're still waiting to hear from the doctors." She glanced at Caine and was concerned by his appearance. She'd never seen him look so pale. A quiet air of agitation had replaced his normally calm, focused demeanor. To someone who didn't know him, he appeared fine, but to his friends, they could read that he was quite disturbed.

"How did it happen?" Caine asked softly.

"All we know is she was found in the parking garage of her building, beaten severely. Her gun never left her holster, so whoever it was, they must have been pretty good to get the jump on her." Kermit had already vowed to exact his own revenge on the person who had done this.

"Motive?" Peter asked.

Kermit shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine right now, Pete. Her purse was left untouched beside her, so it wasn't a robbery. Some punk looking for kicks? I just don't know right now."

Sarah walked up behind Kermit and laid her hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently. "Chill, Kermit." She continued to knead his shoulders.

Peter raised an eyebrow at her. He'd never heard anyone tell Kermit Griffin to "chill" before. Maybe Karen could get away with it in private, but not in public.

Kermit sighed deeply and closed his eyes, though no one could see that through his sunglasses. "Dollface," he muttered under his breath for her ears only, "I'll give you three days to stop." She crossed around in front of him and smiled, running her hand across his cheek.

"She's going to be all right," she informed him, then turned to the group at large, repeating her statement of assurance. Though she had no guarantees, she told them what they all needed desperately to believe, "She's going to be all right."

"I think I'll go talk to that nurse, see what I can find out," Peter informed them.

"Oh, no, you will not," Sarah jumped on him. "You will sit here with everyone else while I go talk to Martha."

"Martha? I wasn't aware that you were on a first name basis with the ER nurses here." It was always something new with Sarah, Peter mused. You never knew what she was going to pull from her sleeve. She was a lot like his father in that way.

"I'm on a first name basis with many of the nurses here, Peter. Nurses have a lot of stress, and sore feet, too. I've actually treated a number of them," she informed him smugly. "And I am well aware of your reputation in the hospital." She turned to include Kermit in her gaze, "And yours, too. So you guys just sit here and behave and I'll see what I can find out." She turned on her heel and sauntered off to the nurses' station.

Karen Simms watched her go in awe. She had masterful control over two of the most difficult men Karen had ever known. Even I could take a few lessons from her, she thought. She chuckled to herself as Kermit and Peter exchanged bemused looks. "I guess she told you two."

Sarah was back in several minutes. They gathered around her to hear what she had discovered about their injured friend. "Mary Margaret is having a CAT scan right now," she reported. "They're very concerned about her head injury. That seems to be the worst of it. She's got a couple of cracked ribs..." her voice trailed off.

Peter could see the trembling start in Sarah's hands. He knew it was only a matter of time before it spread. "Sarah, are you okay?" he asked gently. She was getting that haunted look in her eyes and he knew her past was about to collide with the present.

She shook her head mutely at him. The similarities between Mary Margaret's injuries and the ones she had suffered years ago at the hands of her ex-husband were disconcerting for her.

Peter wondered if she'd ever be truly free from her past. They'd both thought when she'd had the opportunity to beat the tar out of her ex-husband, Frankie, that she'd been set free from her past. However, it had turned out to be more complicated than either of them had imagined. Peter opened his arms in invitation, and Sarah fled into them without hesitation.

Peter looked over her head at his father. {Pop? Will she ever be truly free?}

{Our past shapes us, makes us who we are, Peter. If it were not for her experiences, she would not be the woman you love today. }

{I know that, but these fears, they surface at the most inopportune times. And I can't stand seeing that haunted look in her eyes.}

(Patience, my son. One day, you will have all that you desire with our sweet Hwa-ren. Remember, in the confrontation between the stream and the rock, the stream always wins... not through strength, but through perseverance. }

By the time the sun had risen, they were all gathered around Mary Margaret in her hospital room. The head injury was serious. The CAT scan had reveled swelling of her brain. Mary Margaret Skalany was comatose.

Caine had examined her and strengthened her chi, but there was little he could do for the brain injury. At least Mary Margaret's soul was peaceful. Caine didn't have to worry about losing her in the bardo as he had Peter.

Kermit and Karen left first; they needed to get to the station. Kermit would head the investigation into Mary Margaret's beating. Caine finally shooed Peter and Sarah out, insisting that he would stay and watch over Mary Margaret. "Sarah, you must see to my patients for today," he cupped her face tenderly. He knew her skills were more than adequate for the tasks of the day.

"Yes, Master Caine," she replied formally, then broke from the apprentice/master roles to embrace him. Peter slapped his father on the shoulder as they exited. {Love you, Pop. }

{As I love you, my son.} Caine turned back to Mary Margaret after the pair left. "As I love you, Mary Margaret." He picked up her hand and kissed the palm. "Do not leave me."

On the third day of Caine's constant vigil, Sarah knew they had to do something about him. They had brought him food, which he did not eat. They had brought him fresh clothing, and had been barely able to pry him from the room long enough to get him to change. He had not slept since being awakened by Peter the night of Mary Margaret's attack, and he was depleting his chi by continually strengthening hers. Both Peter and Sarah were concerned, though Sarah more so.

She bustled about the apothecary, gathering items, and making tea, which she poured into a thermos.

Peter watched her with some amusement as she muttered under her breath.

"Stubborn man, now I know where his son gets it from. Well, he is going to have to deal with me. This is not helping Mary Margaret at all." She stopped and looked at Peter as he laughed at her. "Do you find something funny, Peter Caine?" she demanded.

"No, ma'am." Peter swallowed his laughter and let the concern he felt fill his face. "Sarah, I've never seen Pop like this. Any insights about what's going on with him?"

Sarah hesitated, appraising Peter and trying to decide exactly how much she would tell him. Peter was still having some difficulties coming to terms with Caine's relationship with Mary Margaret, though it had gotten easier for him once he had left the force.

"Where shall I start, Peter?" She spread her hands in an exact replica of his father's gesture. "First, your father feels guilty that he was not there when Mary Margaret was attacked." She waved off Peter's protest before he could even begin. "I know it wasn't his fault. But he feels guilt, nevertheless. I seem to recall hearing from your father how guilty you felt when Guo snatched me. It must run in the family. One would think your father is too wise to play the If Only game with himself, but he is not. And do you know why that is?"

Peter shook his head and waited for Sarah to enlighten him. "Because he loves her, Peter." Peter looked like he had swallowed his tongue, and Sarah chuckled at him. "Don't give me that look, Peter. I think he's only just realized it himself, maybe even as a result of this attack. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that Mary Margaret loves your father with all her heart." Sarah and Mary Margaret had become close friends, beginning the day Sarah had first treated her for an injured shoulder.

"Mary Margaret's injury is a heavy shadow hanging over you father's heart, Peter. If we don't get him to take care of himself, he's going to weaken himself to the point that he may become ill, too." She handed him a large bag filled with an assortment of items. "I think that's everything. Let's go."

When Sarah and Peter arrived at the hospital, Sarah's first stop was the nurses' desk outside of Mary Margaret's room. "Hi, Ginny," she greeted the nurse on duty, "What's new?" She indicated the room with her head.

Ginny shook her head. "With her, nothing. With him, I don't like the way he looks, Sarah."

Dr. Ellen Sabourin joined them, nodding her head in agreement with Ginny's assessment. "I have to agree, Sarah. I have never seen Caine look as run down as he does right now. At the rate he's going, I?ll be admitting him next."

Peter's level of concern increased dramatically. He had known that his father was pushing himself, but he hadn't believed Sarah that it was this serious. Hearing these other health professionals agree with her made it more real to him.

Sarah addressed the two women, "Well, I can't do much for Mary Margaret, that's your department. But Caine," she set her jaw firmly, "I intend to take care of him right now."

Peter was interested to see how this battle of wills would play out. Evidently, so was Dr. Sabourin. "Mind if I watch unobtrusively from the door?? she asked Sarah.

"Not at all, Ellen. Where would you like me to have him sleep?" Sarah held up a rolled exercise mat. "You know he's not leaving that room."

"Oh, anywhere out of the way will be fine," she replied. "This I've got to see."

"Me, too," muttered Peter, as he followed Sarah into Mary Margaret's room, carrying her bag full of supplies.

Her first task, before she even acknowledged Caine, was to unroll the mat against the wall on the side of the room. She then walked over to where he was meditating. She bent down over him and held out her left hand, directly in front of his face.

Peter could see two small capsules resting on her palm. Though Caine generally preferred to make his medicinal combos in tea form, Sarah often used capsules. Peter liked her logic. It made the medicines a lot easier to swallow when you didn't have to contend with the bitter tastes.

She held her right hand out to Peter. "The thermos, please, Peter." He handed her the thermos of tea from the bag. She then turned to address Caine.

Sarah didn't bother with pleasantries. "Take these," she ordered. "Look at you; you're a mess," she chided her master. "Even I can see how ragged your chi is."

Peter looked first at Sarah in surprise, then looked closely at his father. Sarah was right; he had never seen his father's chi in such a condition, not even when it was Caine himself who was injured or ill.

Caine opened one eye to look at her. When she glared at him, he opened the other eye and sighed. "I wondered how long it would take you, Nuer."

"Addressing me as Daughter is not going to work this time, Baba," she shot the Chinese word for Daddy right back at him. "You will take these."

Caine reached out and snatched the capsules faster then Sarah's eyes could follow the movement. She smiled at him. "That's not a pebble, Master Caine." His eyes were weary and dark with shadows, but he offered her a faint half-smile. Sarah poured a cup of tea and handed it to him.

He used it to wash down the capsules. "Are you satisfied, Nuer?"

"No, I'm only just getting started," she informed her master. She pointed at the mat she had unrolled. "Over there. Now."

Peter was astounded at the way she was bossing his father around. He had never seen her like this, especially not with Caine. He chuckled. He knew what would happen to him if he even tried to talk to his father that way. His father would remind him of the proper respect he deserved. Somehow, he couldn't see Pop tossing Sarah casually to the floor for such an infraction.

Caine studied Sarah's posture for a moment. He observed the set of her jaw and knew that arguing with her would get him nowhere, but he had a task in mind before he allowed her to continue. "First, I must strengthen Mary Margaret's chi one more time," he informed her, standing up and moving towards the bed.

It was Peter who intervened on that plan. "I don't think so, Pop. You are really in bad shape. I'll do it." Caine raised an eyebrow at his son.

"Are you sure, Peter?"

"Of course, I'm sure. You think I want to risk losing you, too? Go with Sarah, Pop. She can help you." He grinned at his father, though it indicated a happiness he did not feel. It did feel good to have the shoe on the other foot, though. For once, the students were in charge of the master.

Caine walked over and sat on the mat Sarah had provided, then turned to her with a raised eyebrow. He was not sure exactly what she had in mind for the next step, but he did have an idea. Mary Margaret had good reason to refer to her as "Magic Hands."

"Lose it, Baba." She indicated his shirt.

Caine sighed again. Relaxation will do you good, he told himself. Sarah will help you with that. Peter had once admitted to his father that he was able to reach a marvelous state of meditation when Sarah massaged his back. He removed his shirt reluctantly and lay face down on the mat.

Peter could read the weariness in his lack of fight over the issue.

"Very well. You may begin," he told his apprentice. "I will be meditating."

Sarah poured herbal oil into her hands and began the task of relaxing the man who was truly like a father to her. She looked over at Peter who nodded his encouragement. He didn't think it would take too long for his father's meditation to shift to a deep sleep, especially after all the herbs Sarah had just poured into him.

It took even less time than Peter anticipated. Within ten minutes Sarah had Caine sound asleep on the mat. She pulled a blanket from the bag and covered him. It would be too easy for him to catch a chill in his depleted state.

Sarah joined Peter at Mary Margaret's bedside, observing him carefully as he strengthened her chi. She wanted to make sure Peter didn't overdo it. He was not the easy patient to deal with that his father was. When he broke the contact, Sarah guided him gently to the chair next to the bed. "Rest, Peter," she told him. He nodded at her, leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.

She surveyed the scene with satisfaction. Both Caines were sleeping. Ellen Sabourin gave her a thumbs-up from the doorway, and left. Sarah turned to Mary Margaret. If only there were something she could do for her friend, as well. She contented herself with massaging Mary Margaret's arms and legs. That much she could do.

Peter awakened when a nurse came into the room looking for Sarah. "Sarah, I thought I might find you here. Sam's seizing again and the meds aren't helping."

Sarah quickly left Mary Margaret. "Peter, I'll be on the fifth floor in NIC if you need me. Keep an eye on both of them, okay?" Peter nodded as she flew from the room.

There's that mysterious Sam again, Peter thought. Maybe I'll have to run up to the fifth floor and meet this guy. He looked over at Mary Margaret. Both Sarah and his father would have his head if he left her alone. What's NIC?

Peter's chance to escape came when Kermit and Karen showed up at Mary Margaret's room. He held a finger to his lips and pointed to his father's form against the wall. Karen smiled and Kermit chuckled. "I see Dollface finally got to your father."

"Yeah. He was really in sad shape," Peter shared. "I've never seen him so bad." He looked at the two cops. "Any leads on the guy who did this to Skalany?"

"Not much, Kid. We've got a copy of the video surveillance tape, but it hasn't helped much." Kermit was disgusted by their lack of progress.

"Well, now that you're here, you guys can keep watch for me. I need to go meet a friend of Sarah's. We're on the fifth floor in NIC, whatever that is. I'll be back."

Peter took the elevator to the fifth floor and looked for signs for NIC, but found none. He stopped a nurse. "Excuse me, can you tell me where NIC is?"

"Just follow this corridor to the next intersection and turn right," she advised him.

"Thanks."

Peter soon found himself standing outside a set of doors labeled Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Neonatal? he pondered, walking through the doors.

He stopped at the nurses' station. "Uh, hi." He flashed the nurse his most devastating smile, the one that said 'I'm so darn cute, you really want to help me.' He hadn't used it in a while. He hoped it still worked. "I'm looking for Sarah Jacobson. She's supposed to be up here with someone named Sam?"

A nurse stepped out from behind the desk. "Are you Peter?" He nodded. "I'm Cindie. Come on, follow me. I'll take you to Sarah."

Cindie stopped him outside a large glass window and pointed inside. Peter could see several incubators that contained very small babies. Sarah was sitting in a rocking chair on the far side of the room. She was cuddling an infant on her chest. Peter shook his head. So this is Sam? Hwa-ren, you just continue to amaze me, he thought.

"She's fantastic with the babies," Cindie informed him. "All she has to do is hold them, touch them, and they're quiet. She can even stop them from seizing. I don't understand it, but she has a soothing touch."

"Yes, she does," Peter agreed. "Can I go in there?"

Cindie nodded. "Just let me get you a gown."

Peter entered quietly, not wanting to disturb any of the babies. He could hear Sarah crooning softly to the baby she was holding. He slid alongside her without a sound, and knelt beside the rocking chair. He lightly touched her on the arm, not wanting to startle her.

She glanced over at him and smiled shyly. "I wondered how long it would take you. This is Sam." Peter lifted the blanket that covered the infant to take a better look at him, then raised an eyebrow at Sarah when he realized that her blouse was unbuttoned and the baby was wearing only a diaper. She laughed at him, and recovered the sleeping child. "Skin to skin contact, Peter. It's really important for babies."

Peter leaned over to whisper in the child's ear, "You've got it made, Kid. You're getting more skin than I am."

Sarah glanced at him sharply. She knew he was teasing but the issue was a sensitive one. His comment had stung.

"Tell me about him," he gently prodded, realizing guiltily that he had stepped over the line.

"Sam is short for Samuel which means God heard. I named him. John Doe just didn't seem to do him justice. His mother abandoned him in the bus station. He's a recovering crack addict."

Peter could hear the pain in her voice.

"He's been having problems with seizures from the crack withdrawal. This is where I was Saturday night." It seemed like an eternity ago, the night that Skalany had been attacked. Their lives had altered drastically since then, yet it was only a few days ago.

She was babbling. Something was making her nervous. Peter zeroed right in on it. "Does he have a last name?"

She looked at him sheepishly. "Um, yeah."

"And it is?"

"Caine. I hope you don't mind," she added quickly, concerned that Peter might react badly to her revelation. "It's a good, honorable name. He'll be adopted eventually, and he'll get a new last name, but for now, I wanted him to have a strong name. Doe is a good name for a deer, not a sweet baby boy."

"It is a good, honorable name. I'd be glad to share it with him."

Sarah heaved a sigh of relief as Peter reached out to gently stroke the baby's downy hair. Peter understood why her own last name had not been suitable in her eyes.

He laughed softly when he thought about his initial reaction to Sarah's friend, Sam. "I was jealous last Saturday night," he admitted. Then he glanced back down at the infant. "Heck, I think I still am." He gave Sarah a grin to remind her that he was teasing. "I love you, Sarah Jacobson." He leaned over the baby's head and kissed her.

"Peter Caine, you are an amazing man," she responded when he had released her lips. He winked at her.

"Don't let it get around, okay? I've got a reputation, you know."

They returned to Mary Margaret's room together. Kermit and Karen were still holding vigil at her side. Caine was still sleeping. "How much did you give him, Sarah?" Peter questioned.

Sarah responded with a grin. "Oh, he should sleep at least until tomorrow morning."

"You didn't?"

"I did so! He's been without sleep for three and a half days. He needs it."

"He's going to be very mad at you when he wakes up," Peter informed her.

"That's why I don't plan on being here when he does."

Sarah moved to Mary Margaret's side and looked sadly down at her friend. Without her help Peter and I might not be together, she mused. We might have gone on ignoring the way we felt about each other. It was Mary Margaret who had helped her plot exactly how to get Peter's attention the night of the ball. She stroked her friend's face. "Would you guys mind giving me some time alone with her?"

"Not at all, Dollface. Karen and I have to get going anyway." Kermit took Karen's hand and led her from the room.

Peter followed them, pausing in the doorway. "You sure you're okay with this, Hwa-ren?" She nodded. "Okay, I'm gonna go get some coffee. I'll be back in a little while."

Once they were gone Sarah placed her mouth next to her friend's ear and spoke softly. "Mary Margaret, you have to come back to us. If you could see what this is doing to us all, especially Caine, you'd fight harder. You've got his attention now, girlfriend. Besides, I'm thinking about putting my baseball bat away when it comes to Peter, and I really need your advice. M&M," she used her nickname for her friend, "I don't know what to do about the fear. Come back to us, my friend." Tears slid down Sarah's face. In desperation, she laid one hand on either side of Mary Margaret's head and encouraged healing warmth to flow.

When Peter returned, he found Mary Margaret's room to be the central point of quiet chaos. Ellen Sabourin was there with several nurses. They were talking quietly in deference to his father, but Peter could see they were excited about something. "Hey," Peter greeted Dr. Sabourin, "What's going on here?"

Ellen Sabourin faced Peter, a positive expression on her face. "I'm ordering another CAT scan, Peter. Mary Margaret's vital signs have shown sudden improvement. It's the best news we've had in a while. I don't know what she did," Ellen pointed over at Sarah, who was sitting in the chair at Mary Margaret's bedside, cradling her head in her hands, "but whatever it was, it worked. She truly is your father's apprentice."

They wheeled Mary Margaret from the room as Peter went to Sarah's side. She looked up at him with pain-glazed eyes. "Peter, " she whispered, "I have the worst headache of my life. Please, take me home."

Peter glanced at his father's sleeping form. If he woke up before Mary Margaret was returned to her room, he would be very uneasy, wondering what had happened to her.

As if she could read his thoughts, Sarah spoke, "I'm telling you, Peter, he won't wake up before tomorrow morning. Please," she pleaded, "I can barely see, it hurts so much."

Peter nodded and helped her from the chair. He'd take her home and put her to bed. Maybe he'd even brew a tea for her. She trusted him not to poison her.

Sarah refused to return to the hospital the next day. She had things going on at the apothecary. Between Caine's patients and her own, she had her hands full. Besides, she did not want to face her master's wrath if she could postpone it.

Mary Margaret's condition had, indeed, taken a turn for the better. The swelling had gone down in her brain and her vitals were better than they'd been since she'd arrived at the hospital. She was still unconscious, but things were looking much brighter.

Peter found Caine looking much better as well. "Morning, Pop. How's it going?"

Caine looked at his son. "Where is my apprentice?"

"She's holding down the fort at the apothecary, Pop." He carefully appraised his father's appearance. "Are you mad at her? Because she's really afraid that you are."

"No, I am not angry with her. I believe I owe her a debt of gratitude. She did what was necessary." He sighed. "I would have done the same thing in her place."

Caine stroked Mary Margaret's hair absentmindedly. "Peter, did you see what she did for Mary Margaret?" Caine was curious. He had not seen this type of healing in a long time.

"I was out of the room, Pop. When I came back Skalany had stabilized."

Caine shook his head. "It seems her talents are finally awakening. When I said she had healing in her hands, I had no idea the true extent of her ability. Were there any effects on her?"

"Oh, yeah. She had a killer headache all last night. I gave her some tea for the pain and to help her sleep. She seemed fine this morning."

Caine nodded. If his suspicions about this new talent were correct, than Sarah having a massive headache was perfectly logical.

"I believe I will return home today," Caine informed his son. "Mary Margaret will be fine without me for a short time. Come."

When Caine and Peter entered the apothecary, Sarah was busy preparing a remedy for Mrs. Shen. Caine had been treating her arthritis for several months. She jumped at the sudden presence of the two men, who had entered without a sound. "I really hate it when you guys do that," she muttered, not meeting her master's face.

Caine crossed to Sarah and took her chin in his hand. "Look at me, Nuer," he commanded.

She met his eyes and was warmed by the gentleness she found there.

"You are an apprentice that would make any master proud. I am a fortunate man."

Sarah flushed with pleasure. This was certainly not the reception she had expected from him after yesterday.

"Now, I believe a shower would be most welcome before I return to the hospital." Caine left the pair behind as he headed to get cleaned up.

When he returned to the apothecary, it was empty. He went in search of his son, and was displeased with what he found.

Sarah was in the meditation room, having a session with Jordan, Peter's ex-lover. Peter was eavesdropping in the corridor. Caine crept silently behind his son, but Peter felt his presence and clapped a hand over his mouth. {Pop, I do not need a lecture on the morality of eavesdropping. I am about to be enlightened, here. Don?t blow it for me. SSHHH! } Caine merely raised an eyebrow at his son, and removed the offending hand from its place over his mouth. Peter turned his attention back to the voices coming out of the meditation room.

He could tell from the voice locations that Sarah was behind Jordan, quite likely massaging her shoulders while they talked. The subjects they covered were generally guaranteed to provide stress for both of them. Sarah was trying to help Jordan deal with the trauma of being beaten and raped. Sarah had a far more extensive history than Jordan did, though her scars were older and she did not carry the addition guilt that Jordan did. Jordan felt that as a trained police officer, she should have been able to prevent what had happened to her. Sarah did not often speak of these things with Peter, yet they directly impacted their relationship. Peter felt he was justified in his eavesdropping. He was about to receive a bundle of guilt for his trouble.

"I just want to know how you managed to sleep with a man again," Jordan's voice rang clear. "You're lucky to have Peter. If ever there was a man who could replace the pain with pleasure, it's Peter."

"I don't really think this is an appropriate topic of conversation, Jordan, given your history with Peter and my current status with him." Sarah's voice was no-nonsense in tone.

Jordan laughed a slightly naughty laugh. "Come on, Sarah, you said I could ask you anything. I'm serious, I want to know how long it took you to sleep with another man again."

Out in the corridor, Peter closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. He felt badly for Sarah. Here she was, trying to help Jordan, and Jordan was inflicting pain on her. He wondered if she would lie to Jordan, or somehow avoid the question altogether.

Caine picked up his stray thoughts. {She will not lie, Peter. }

Sarah's hands had ceased their ministrations to Jordan's shoulders and begun to tremble instead. She looked down at them and willed them to be still. They didn't obey.

Jordan twisted around on the floor to look at her face and understood the implication of what she saw there. "Oh, my God. You haven't, have you?"

Sarah shook her head, unable to speak.

Jordan grabbed her hands in her own to stop the trembling. "I'm sorry, Sarah. It never occurred to me that after all these years..." her voice trailed off. "And you've been going with Peter for a while and he's... well, he's a passionate man?"

Sarah finally found her voice, though it quivered, her pain audible, "The fear's been too strong for me to overcome it. Peter's been wonderfully patient with me. I've only ever had sex with Frankie," she confessed. "Jordan, tell me the truth, you actually found pleasure in it?" She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with Jordan, of all people, but Mary Margaret wasn't available.

"Oh, Sarah." Jordan wrapped her arms around Sarah. "Peter loves you. It shines so clearly in his eyes that I'm jealous of you. Hey, I poisoned you, for crying out loud!"

Sarah giggled lightly in Jordan's arms, grateful for a diversion, "Yes, that was quite a night, thank you very much."

Sarah became somber once again as Jordan continued, "I still can't believe that you forgave me for all that I put you through. Anyway, Peter never looked at me the way he looks at you. Frankie, on the other hand, was the scum of the earth." She stroked Sarah's hair, soothing her tremors; something Sarah generally ended up doing for her during their sessions. "Peter's not going to have sex with you, you silly girl. He's going to make love to you. And yes, before you ask, there is a difference. A big difference." The student had become the teacher once again; the patient had become the healer.

Caine noted with satisfaction that Peter's ears were red. {This will teach you to eavesdrop, my son. } Caine mind-spoke as he grabbed Peter by his scarlet ear and began to pull him down the corridor. {I believe you have heard quite enough. }

The Watcher was disappointed. The shadows on Caine's heart had begun to lift, even though his woman was still in the hospital. He had felt Caine's life force weakening when it had suddenly improved. The Watcher knew that Caine's apprentice was responsible for his improvement. Very well, then. He would just have to overshadow her heart as well. It wouldn't do to have her fully functioning when he went after Caine directly.

Caine returned to Mary Margaret's bedside feeling refreshed. He was pleased to discover she was continuing to improve. There was no longer a need for him to strengthen her chi. Sarah's talents were most impressive. There was much they needed to explore together once Mary Margaret was fully recovered.

On Friday Peter invited Sarah to accompany him to a late lunch, nothing fancy, just a sandwich at the café on the corner. Sarah was eager to spend some time with him; he seemed to be avoiding her for the past several days and she intended to find out why.

Sarah's approach was radically different from Peter's. If he wanted to know something, he generally went straight to that topic. Sarah, on the other hand, usually took the indirect route, working up to the topic she really wanted to discuss. So she started with the weather, proceeded to Caine, then Mary Margaret, before she'd gotten up the courage to ask Peter what was really going on.

Finally, she took the plunge. "Peter, I feel like you've been avoiding me for the past few days. Is something wrong?"

Peter looked at her guiltily. "Um, no." He could feel his ears starting to burn, reminding him that he had betrayed her trust by eavesdropping on her. Confession is good for the soul, he told himself.

He had betrayed many women in his lifetime and never given it a second thought. He had said things he didn't really mean, left them hanging, lied to them. He had come to realize that it wasn't really his fear of rejection and abandonment that led him to do these things; it was his fear of acceptance. He screwed things up before anyone could really touch his soul. But that was the old Peter Caine, the cop. The Shaolin priest was a different man, and it was too late to worry about this woman touching his soul. Hell, she owned his soul.

"Sarah, there is something I need to tell you, but not here. Let's go home, okay?" He reached for her hand and kissed it before pulling her up from the table. He noticed the concerned look in her eyes. He was familiar with it. Time for reassurance. "Hwa-ren, I love you." She relaxed.

"I love you too, Peter."

The snowy sidewalks were filled with children on their way home from school. Peter hadn't realized it was that late in the afternoon. He would be needed at the kwoon when they returned; there would be no time to talk until later. Some of his students were probably already there.

As they approached the kwoon, Sarah suddenly stiffened and sharply inhaled. "Sam?" Peter asked, thinking this reminded him of her premonition last Saturday night. She shook her head. Shouts filled the air near the kwoon, and Sarah grabbed Peter by the hand and began to run.

They pushed their way through the crowd that was gathering on the edge of the street. Sarah recognized the small form on the ground before Peter did. "NO!" she yelled. "Ti Lo!" She rushed to his side, not daring to touch him. Blood was flowing from his nose, and his ears. "Ti Lo, love, can you hear me?" There was no response from the little boy. She checked his neck gently for a pulse and was relieved to find that he was still alive.

"What happened?" Peter demanded of the crowd. "Somebody call an ambulance, now!" he ordered. Someone scurried quickly into a store. No one dared cross an angry Shaolin.

Peter was informed by several by-standers that Ti Lo had been crossing the street at the corner, when a dark car came from out of nowhere, and mowed the youngster down. The car hadn't even slowed. Ti Lo was the victim of a hit and run.

Peter and Caine stood together outside of the boy's hospital room. No one had been able to locate his parents and Sarah had insisted on being alone with him. There was nothing any of them could do for the boy. Ti Lo was slipping closer and closer to death. They glanced into the room and were both shocked to see Sarah strengthening Ti Lo's chi. They looked at one another. "Pop, did you teach her how to do that?"

"I did not, my son." Caine?s raised eyebrow asked the same question of Peter.

"I didn't teach her, either." Peter sighed. "Why is she bothering, Pop? She knows there's nothing that anyone can do for him."

"I believe she wishes to... say good-bye, my son."

Peter raked his hand through his hair. He could feel the pain Sarah was already feeling; their hearts were one. How is she going to handle this? he wondered. It had to be Ti Lo? he asked the fates. Ti Lo was her pet, her favorite.

He glanced back into the room and saw that Sarah had now climbed into Ti Lo's bed and was cradling him in her arms.

"Ti Lo, it's me, Hwa-ren. I know you have a journey ahead of you, beloved, but don't you dare go without saying good-bye to me, you little imp."

Ti Lo opened his eyes. "Hwa-ren. Do not leave me," the little boy whispered.

"I will stay with you forever, Ti Lo." Her tears dripped onto the shiny black hair.

He shattered her heart into a million pieces when he began to quote from Robin Hood, the first book she had read to the children, "Lift me up, good Hwa-ren. I want to smell the air from the good greenwood once again. Give me my good yew bow-here-here- and fix a broad arrow upon the string. Out yonder-amoung the oaks- where this arrow shall fall... let them dig my grave."

"I wish I had a bow, Hwa-ren."

Sarah clutched the small boy to her tightly. She could feel the life force ebbing from him. She began to sing to him, "If I could just sit with you a while, If you could just hold me, nothing could touch me, though I'm wounded, though I die. If I could just sit with you a while, I need you to hold me, moment by moment, 'til forever passes by, moment by moment 'til forever passes by." Sarah sat, holding the beloved child as his forever passed them by.

"Our time together has been too short, Ti Lo," she murmured into his hair, hair that was now soaked with her tears.

Several minutes later the child gasped, his eyes wide, and he picked up the last words of Robin Hood where he had left off, "'Tis the last. Tell the brave hearts to lay me there with the green sod under my head and feet. And- let them lay- my bent bow at my side, for it has made sweet music in mine ears."

"Hwa-ren," he gasped, clutching her hand, "Your voice... has been sweet music... in my ears."

Sarah knew she had to give this little one her blessing to cross over. Though it broke her heart, she bade him good-bye. She comforted him in a way she knew matched his family's beliefs. "Go, Ti Lo. God is calling you, I can hear Him." Her voice broke, but she continued, "Listen. Do you hear Him? Go, sweet one. I will see you again, someday."

Sarah held him lovingly as the child drew his last breath. "Now cracks a noble heart. Goodnight, sweet prince. And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!"

"Hamlet, Act V, Scene II," Caine whispered in the doorway.

When she was certain it was over, she threw back her head and gave voice to the agony in her soul. Peter wept at the sound.

Several nurses tried to enter the room, but were blocked by the two Shaolin priests. They might have tried to get past Caine, but one look at Peter's face made them decide that turning off the monitors could wait until later.

Ti Lo's parents arrived ten minutes too late. It was Peter and Caine who told them of their son's tragic death. Peter decided the task was no easier as a priest than it had been as a cop. Though the family was Christian, not Buddhist, they still had a great respect for the Shaolins, and knew that their son had loved both Sarah and Peter. When Peter and Caine escorted them to the room to say good-bye to their son, Sarah was already gone.

Peter fled to the fifth floor, checking the NIC for Sarah. Perhaps she had sought the comfort of another little one in her arms. She wasn't there. He explained the situation to Cindie, who promised to call Peter if Sarah put in an appearance. "Peter, before you go, there's something you need to know. I haven't told Sarah yet, and this is going to make it even harder for her."

Peter sighed. More bad news, just what they didn't need right now. He waited for Cindie to drop the next bomb on him.

"Sam's strong enough now to leave the hospital. In a few days, he's going to a foster family."

Peter closed his eyes. Another loss for Sarah. How am I going to tell her? Well, he had a few days. He'd wait for the initial edge of grief over Ti Lo to pass before he told her. He whispered a silent plea; Let him get a good one, like the Blaisdells, please. He spoke aloud to Cindie, "I'll tell her, Cindie. Not today, but I will tell her." Now, I just have to find her.

Peter knew he would find his father back in Mary Margaret's room, so he stopped there before he left the hospital. Caine was playing his flute, seated on the floor beside Mary Margaret's bed. He stopped playing and looked up at his son. "Your heart knows where to find her, my son. Go to her. Take her home." He smiled a sorrowful smile at Peter. "And when you get her there, give her... a taste of her own medicine. Same dosage as she gave me. Or she will never make it through this night."

Peter nodded. He had been thinking the same thing.

He left the Stealth at the edge of the park and slowly trudged through the dark night towards the Reading Tree. He knew he would find her there. His thoughts turned back to the previous Saturday, when Ti Lo had nipped a handful of snow down his coat collar. He suddenly found that he was grateful Sarah had indulged the children. Suddenly snow castles and cookies, hot chocolate and good books seemed like far too little.

Sarah had thrown herself onto the ground beneath her tree, oblivious to the cold, wet snow. Peter gathered her into his arms. She was soaked through. Crystal tears had frozen along her collar where they had dropped from her cheeks. "Hwa-ren, we can't stay here. We'll both freeze."

He looked into her eyes and was concerned at the emptiness that looked back at him. Despite her past, she was a creature of light and warmth, but Peter could see the darkness that was surrounding her, over taking her heart and soul. "I'm taking you home. Let's go." He pulled her to her feet and half carried her back to the car.

When he got her home, he propelled her into her bathroom. "Get those wet clothes off and take a hot shower," he instructed her. "I'll be back in a few minutes with something to help you. I expect to find you in your pajamas and in bed!"

Sarah stood non-compliant in the middle of the floor, too numb from the emotional cold to move. Peter pulled off her coat, hat, and gloves. "Sarah, I'm warning you, if you don't do this yourself, I will take you in there and strip you myself. I will not have you get sick on me. I have seen more than enough of City Hospital in the past week to last me a lifetime."

He was relieved when she gave him a ghost of a smile. "I do believe you would, Peter Caine."

His relief made it easy to smile back. "You want to try me?" he leered at her, hoping it would continue to restore some life into her eyes. She shook her head. "Okay, then, get moving." He left her apartment and went to the apothecary to retrieve the herbs she had used on his father earlier in the week.

The errand didn't take very much time, so Peter decided to run down to his own apartment and change into a set of silks. He was wet from hauling Sarah out of the snow. He had the feeling if he didn't get out of his wet clothes now, he'd be wearing them all night.

When he returned to Sarah's, he found her sitting on the edge of the bed. She had her tattered copy of Robin Hood in her hands and was re-reading the final chapter. Why don't you just stick a knife in your heart, Hwa-ren? Peter thought. The resulting pain would be the same.

Peter gently pulled the book from her hands and placed it on the night table. "Don't do that to yourself, Sarah." He noticed her attire. She was wearing one of his long-sleeved dress shirts. "Hey, I've been looking for that shirt," he informed her. "What is it about women and my shirts?" he asked, sitting down beside her and dropping a kiss on her shoulder.

"You stole this shirt out of my laundry, didn't you?" The ghost of her smile returned to her eyes and Peter knew he was pursuing the right track. "Sarah, when you steal clothing from the laundry, you should take it on the return trip. This shirt smells." The ghost became more solid.

"You've just answered your own question about women and your shirts, Peter." He still didn't understand. "Taking the shirt after it's washed would defeat the entire purpose, Peter. Yes, the shirt smells. Like you. Wearing this is like having you with me all night long."

"I know of a better way to accomplish that, Hwa-ren," he murmured, stroking her face. He turned to the night table to retrieve the capsules he had fetched from the apothecary. "Here. This is an order straight from Pop. He wanted you to have a taste of your own medicine." Her resistance began to gather, and Peter decided to try a different approach, "Please, Sarah. Pop's right. Take them." The spark had faded from her eyes and she accepted the capsules without protest.

Peter pulled back the covers on the bed. "Jump in." She obeyed him, and he covered her up, then settled himself beside her on top of the covers. Tonight is not the time to get distracted, he thought ruefully.

She nestled her head on his shoulder. "Peter, will Ti Lo's death be considered a murder?"

"Possibly. It depends on the set of circumstances. There are a number of lesser charges that could be pursued, but whoever did it really blew it by running." He pulled her closer to him. "The 101st is full of good cops, Sarah. They'll find him. They got good descriptions of the car and a partial license plate. Justice will be served." It was times like this that Peter felt a tug towards his past. Apparently you could take the detective out of the precinct, but you couldn't completely take the detective out of the man. The desire to investigate, to solve the puzzle ran through his veins.

Peter was surprised by Sarah's lack of tears. Maybe she's already cried herself out, he thought. He tried to calculate approximately how long it would take for the herbs to begin to work.

She startled him out of his calculations. "Peter, will you stay with me tonight? I don't want to be alone."

"Of course I will. All you ever have to do is ask, Hwa-ren. You've got me wrapped around your little finger, remember?" He nuzzled her hair. "Do you want me to rub your back? It'll help you sleep. Course, I doubt if I'm as good at it as you are."

She stiffened under the covers. She didn't like anyone to touch her back and Peter knew why. "No, thanks, Peter. I'm fine."

"Hwa-ren, do you remember the conversation we had on Pop's terrace a while after we rescued you from Guo?" Sarah nodded. "Do you recall my telling you that one day you'd find your soul mate?"

She rewarded him with a small chuckle. "Yes. I guess we were both surprised how that turned out, huh?"

"Yeah. Who would have thought, as I was making that very statement, you were sitting right in my lap? Anyway, I told you that your soul mate wouldn't mind those scars on your back. I was right. He doesn't."

Sarah sought confirmation from his eyes. Reassured by what she found there, she flipped herself over onto her stomach, shoving the pillow out of her way.

Peter's heart gave a lurch. She was finally willing to trust him in this matter. He kneeled over her and began to gently knead her shoulders. He could feel the outlines of the scars through the shirt. He could also feel her beginning to relax.

"Ummm. Delightful," she murmured. "I'm going to have to start charging you more. I had no idea this felt so good."

Peter chuckled. "Be quiet, Hwa-ren, and go to sleep. I'll be here in the morning," he assured her. Judging from his father's reaction to the herbal concoction she had made, he doubted she'd awaken before the next afternoon. He was wrong.

Once Sarah's breathing indicated to him that she was asleep, he reached over to the night table and turned off the light. He pulled the afghan from the bottom of the bed, and curled up beside her. The idea of snuggling down under the covers was extremely tempting, but after the ear full he'd gotten the other day he was even more determined to let her chose the pace. No point in creating problems, he told himself.

He was awakened several hours later by her murmuring voice. "Dark.. it's...so dark..." Her breathing was ragged and her legs were twitching. He reached over to gather her into his arms before the nightmare could get worse.

"Shhh, Sarah. It's okay. I'm here."

Her eyes flew open and she clutched at him. "Peter, it's too dark in here. Please." Her voice was frantic.

Peter fumbled with the light on the bedside table and was annoyed when the bulb burned out on him.

"Matches in the drawer," she told him, "Light the candles." Their electricity could be precarious during the winter storms, not to mention that they all found candles to be a soothing focal point for meditation.

Peter's hands found what he sought and the candle flamed to life. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned Guo's name earlier, he thought. When Guo had kidnapped Sarah, he had held her for two and half days in a totally darkened cell. "Was it Guo?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No. It's these shadows. They're all around me, closing in on me!" She began to sob. "I can't shake the darkness!" She sat up and Peter could see by the candlelight there was a wild, desperate look in her eyes.

He moved to comfort her, but she bolted from the bed. This was not the reaction to Ti Lo's death that he had anticipated. Sarah was lighting more candles in the room, still muttering about the shadows and the darkness.

"Sarah, calm down. You know that there's nothing here in the darkness that's not here in the light."

She glared at him. "I do not want philosophy lessons right now, Peter," she informed him.

"Okay, how about this than: It's better to light a single candle than curse the darkness?" He crossed the room and gently took her by the hand, leading her back to the bed. "A single candle, Sarah, not the entire house full." She followed without protest. Peter could feel tremors running the length of her entire body. Whatever it was, she was truly frightened.

This time he slid under the covers with her, wrapping his strong arms around her tightly and breathing into her ear, "You're safe, Hwa-ren. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Close your eyes and focus yourself."

She shuddered.

"Okay, look at the candle and focus yourself," he amended, stroking her hair in a gesture he knew she found soothing. "Breathe slowly, Sarah. Deep, slow, even breaths." His calm tenor in its teaching mode captured her attention and she began to follow his instructions. He continued to murmur soothing directions until she stopped shuddering. She sighed deeply and released all the tension in her body, melting against Peter. "Good."

He looked down into her eyes and was pleased to find that they seemed fairly normal. He could read so much in her eyes. It made him understand in part why Kermit hid behind his sunglasses all the time. He had the feeling that Kermit's eyes were as well spoken as Sarah's, judging from the times he'd actually had contact with them.

She returned his gaze and he was startled when a small spark flashed into existence there. She's up to something, he warned himself. Still, he was totally unprepared when she drew her lips across his neck. Suddenly it felt ten degrees warmer. Peter grabbed quickly for control of his body. He could hear his father's voice from the past echoing across his mind: the mind controls the body, Peter. Yeah, right, Pop.

Sarah repeated the gesture, this time dragging her tongue across his throat.

Peter growled, "Sarah, cut that out."

"Why? You don't like it?"

"The problem is, I do like it. But I don't feel like getting out of this warm bed to jump into a cold shower."

"I have no intention of letting you out of this bed tonight, Peter Caine. The darkness is seeping into my very soul. I thought, perhaps, you might know of a way to... combat it with a little light."

He gazed deeply into her eyes to verify that she was asking what he thought she was. He let the fire flame in his own eyes, declaring his intentions, his hunger, and giving her a chance to back down.

Her response was to arch her head back, offering her own neck to him. With a growl deep in his throat born of long suppressed passion, he swept her into his arms and covered her offering with kisses. He pulled back when he noticed she was trembling.

"You're trembling, Hwa-ren. Is that fear or passion you're feeling?" He had to be absolutely sure.

"Some of each, I think," she admitted, voice quivering. She was out of her league here, and they both knew it. "Peter, please. Drive away these shadows. Do you not admire my courage?" she asked, eyebrow raised at him. Peter waited for the explanation that he knew would follow. "Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear."

"Confucius?"

"Mark Twain. Help me master my fear, Peter. Teach me, Sifu," she commanded playfully, though he could read nervousness in her eyes.

One last check. "You're sure?"

"Yes."

So Peter began the lessons.

Caine sat in the darkness of Mary Margaret's hospital room. He was meditating when a sudden wave of joy and sated passion washed over him. He threw back his head and laughed delightedly, chasing the shadows from his own heart. Peter's channel was wide open, and his son was unintentionally broadcasting. Caine turned the joy around and pushed it back at Peter, caught Peter's sudden embarrassment when he received it.

{Sorry, Pop. } came Peter's voice in his mind, sheepish at being discovered.

{My son, you have given me a gift of great joy. There is nothing to apologize for. I am... happy for both of you. I did tell you patience was a virtue. }

Peter's laughter trailed across Caine's mind. {Yeah, Pop. Some things are worth waiting for. }

Back in Sarah's apartment Peter looked down at the woman who had captured his heart. She was sleeping, a contented, slightly smug smile playing on her lips.

{Now that you posses her body in addition to her heart and soul, it is time to join her mind with yours, my son. }

{What? } Peter hadn't known that was possible.

{She has the ability, my son. } He should have known. His father had selected her as apprentice over anyone else he'd ever met.

{I.. just don't know about that, Pop. } Peter wasn't sure he was ready to be that intimate with Sarah. It was bad enough he broadcasted to his father unintentionally.

{Decide quickly, my son. She will never be more receptive than she is right now. Just remember, she has conquered her greatest fear this evening. Maybe it's time you faced yours, as well. Courage, Peter. }

Peter continued to gaze at Sarah, pondering his father's words. His greatest fear... It was that someone would know him completely. Sarah was his soul mate, the other half of his heart. She had shared her darkest secrets with him. Could he do the same? Could he allow her the freedom to tiptoe into his mind?

He placed his hand on the side of her face. No guts, no glory, Peter. He closed his eyes and opened his mind, probing along the edges of her consciousness. Better wake her up first, so she knows it's not a dream, he decided.

"Sarah?" He shook her gently. "Wake up, Love, there's something I want to show you."

Sarah cracked open one eye and smiled at him. "Lesson two, already?" He grinned at her.

"No, it's not that kind of a lesson, although it's not a bad idea?" She swatted him. "I'm serious, Sarah. This one could save either one of our lives sometime. I know it's brought Pop to me when I needed him."

She was wide-awake now. "Okay, what is it?"

"You know that mind-link I have with Pop?" She nodded. "We're going to build our own." She raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. "Is that okay?"

"Peter, I have no problem with the idea that we will be able to communicate like that. Are you sure about it?" She echoed the question he had asked her some time earlier.

He nodded his head, and began to instruct her. "Close your eyes, Sarah. Clear your mind, try to remain open." She did as he instructed.

He marveled at her trust. She was waiting. He closed his own eyes and tried to remember what it was like when he and his father had first developed their link. Funny, he couldn't remember when it had started. It just seemed to be there.

{Sarah? Sarah, can you hear me? }

Her response was a quicksilver of laughter that fluttered through his mind. {Yes, Peter. This is... most interesting. }

Peter prepared to lower his barriers, but before he did there was something he needed to do. He took the knowledge about Sam and his waiting foster family and quickly built a fence around it. That was a secret she couldn't know, not tonight. He could only hope that her inexperience with this sort of thing would prevent her from knowing that he held back this one, tiny piece of information. He then lowered the rest of the barriers he had erected during his lifetime, flooding her with his love, his doubts, his fears, he held back nothing else.

She gasped at the intensity of it all. Then she did her best to repeat the gesture. There were no more secrets between them, save the one about Sam.

She opened her eyes, and stroked Peter's face. "I know you completely, my love. And I'm not going anywhere." Peter captured her hand and kissed it. "But what's this about you eavesdropping on Jordan and me?" Peter's ears flushed red and Sarah laughed at him. "I suppose I really should be mad," she told him, "but given the fact that it's now a settled issue, I think I'll let you off the hook." She rolled over onto her side.

{Mind if I get some sleep now? }

Their new relationship proved essential for Sarah's support over the next several days, particularly the day of Ti Lo's funeral. The shadows Peter had temporarily banished returned in full force.

Ti Lo's mother had requested that Sarah sing at the funeral. She told Sarah that Ti Lo had spoken of her frequently, and besides her reading, he had particularly enjoyed when she sang to them. Sarah had reluctantly agreed. She had never sung in front of adults before, only the children, but she would do it as a last gift to Ti Lo.

She had chosen the song carefully, but when the time came she was uncertain of herself. {Go on, Sarah. You can do this. Just close your eyes and sing for Ti Lo. } Peter's quiet presence within her mind gave her the courage she needed.

She stood and strode to the front of Ti Lo's church, turned to face the gathering of family and friends. She wasn't quite sure where to begin. "I was Ti Lo's friend. He taught me many things, including the important lesson that love is the one thing that the more you give it away, the more it comes back to you, and the more you have to give. He was a delight to be with and I miss him." Her voice cracked. "The song I chose to honor Ti Lo with is a song that truly reflects the way Ti Lo ended his life. He was in my arms when he died," the first tear slipped down her cheek, "And I told him that I could hear God calling him. This song, tells precisely of that, God calling a beloved child home." She nodded to the keyboard player, closed her eyes, and began to sing.

When she had finished, she stumbled back to her seat next to Peter, blinded by her tears. When it was time for the small casket to be closed, Peter held her tightly by the arm, afraid she might collapse on him. He was not surprised when she slipped the tattered copy of Robin Hood in next to Ti Lo, nor by the small bow that went with it.

"Sarah, you have to eat something." Peter was beginning to get concerned by her recent lack of appetite. He knew she was grieving for Ti Lo, but her own health was important, too.

"I'm not hungry, Peter. I'll eat when I am." The shadows were back, and her depression was deepening rather than lifting. "Let's go see Mary Margaret."

Mary Margaret had finally regained consciousness.

Peter was glad she suggested it. He needed to get her to the hospital today to say good-bye to Sam and he hadn't been sure how to do that without telling her the reason.

He was glad that although they were linked now, they each respected the other's privacy. Peter wasn't sure why he'd expected the experience to be different from the link he shared with his father. It was very much the same, except he had allowed her places that night he hadn't even shared with his father.

Caine greeted them with a smile that slowly faded as he observed the condition of his apprentice. "Sarah," he chastised her, "You must take better care of yourself." The two had switched positions again.

She nodded her head to appease him and went to Mary Margaret's side, clasping the hand that was held out to her and hugging her friend.

"M&M, it's good to see your eyes, my friend. You really had me worried."
"I understand I have you to thank for helping with my recovery." Sarah gave a Caine-shrug and Mary Margaret laughed. "Gentlemen, if you would excuse us," Mary Margaret politely ordered them from the room, "I think Sarah and I have some girl-talk to catch up on."

Caine and Peter left the room and were greeted by Kermit. "Hey, Kermit. What's the news?" Peter inquired.

Kermit glanced in the doorway and saw Sarah with Skalany. He answered softly, not wanting her to hear, "The news is, Pete, that Skalany's attack and Ti Lo's murder are related. The description of the car we got from eyewitnesses matches a car seen on the parking garage video-surveillance tape."

"That doesn't make any sense," Peter complained, "The only way Ti Lo is connected in anyway to Skalany..."

"Is through you, Pete. Or Sarah, or maybe even your father, if we stretch it." Kermit had already thought all this out. "Sarah's only enemy in this world is locked behind bars again, like the animal he is. That leaves you or your father."

Father and son exchanged glances. They each had a long list of possible enemies and some names were on both their lists.

"You look like hell," Mary Margaret told Sarah. Sarah looked at her sharply.

"You don't look so hot yourself!" she shot back.

"At least I have a good reason. What's your excuse?" Mary Margaret again held out her hand to Sarah, who took it and absentmindedly began to massage the pressure points. "Come on, Sarah. I know about Ti Lo. You don't have to pretend with me."

"I can't get his face out of my mind, M&M. I keep seeing him, lying there on the ground. How could someone do that? They just drove away."

"They'll catch him, Sarah. Did you know Kermit's handling the case himself?"

Sarah shook her head. She had no idea that Ti Lo's case was important enough for a senior detective like Kermit to be assigned to the case. She had assumed that the file had landed on the desk of some junior with little experience. She was grateful that Kermit had the case. She felt more hopeful that Ti Lo would receive justice.

"Now, tell me something more interesting," Mary Margaret tried to lighten the conversation. "What's going on with you and Peter?"

Sarah's face turned scarlet and Mary Margaret laughed. "Uh, huh, I thought so! Give, girl!"

"Now, M&M, I don't kiss and tell. Why don't you tell me what's going on with you and Caine?"

Now it was Mary Margaret's turn to flush. "I... do not know." Mary Margaret pitched her voice exactly like Caine's, and the two women burst into giggles, causing the men outside the door to stick their heads in to see what was so amusing. The two women presented totally innocent faces and the men returned to their conversation with Kermit.

"Hmmm. Maybe we should compare notes, M&M. Might be interesting to know how alike the father and son are."

"Sarah! I am shocked! I had no idea you could be naughty!" She laughed.

"Neither did I!" Sarah confessed.

"I like it! A new partner in crime for me! You do know what one of my favorite activities is, don't you?" Sarah shook her head. "Tormenting Peter! Especially about his father and me." Sarah gave her a mischievous smile.

Peter poked his head back into the room. "If you ladies are done with your girl talk, Sarah, we need to go upstairs."

Part 1   Part 2

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