Peter Caine's kwoon was a busy place this afternoon. Some teenage boys were working with his father, Kwai Chang Caine, off to one side. Peter himself was teaching a class of elementary aged children, and to Peter's great satisfaction, Sarah was just wrapping up a class with several little girls.

It had taken almost the entire summer for Sarah to regain the ground she'd lost as a result of being kidnapped by Li Su Zhao's henchmen. She'd remained withdrawn and sullen most of the time. But when school reopened in September, the children had flocked to her, begging her for help with their homework, as she had helped them at the end of the previous school year.

Peter knew that it was largely the result of the children's need for her that she had finally pulled herself back together. The children had nicknamed her Hwa-ren, the Flower Lady, because she always wore flower-print shirts. Peter chuckled to himself. Sometimes she looked like a Hawaiian tourist who had gotten off at the wrong stop.

Much as Peter was pleased with the progress Sarah had made, and how things were going at the kwoon, he was still disturbed. Other things in his life were not going quite as well.

Caine suddenly appeared at his son's shoulder, having left his class busy with an assignment to practice. "My son, you are troubled." It wasn't a question; it was statement of fact. He had a very close relationship with his son. Moreover, their Shaolin training allowed them to pick up on each other's thoughts. It was something they could do intentionally, but sometimes it happened without Peter meaning it to.

"Yeah, Pop," Peter answered him, one eye and half his attention watching his students go through their form, the other half trying to converse with his father.

Caine put his hand onto his son's shoulder and was displeased to find that it was so tense he could bounce a board off of it. "Peter, you are very tense. What is it that is troubling you?"

Peter really wasn't in the mood to have this conversation with his father, not here, not now. But he knew he had to give his father some sort of an answer, even if it was not a complete one. "It's Jordan, Pop, she's been hassling me. Could we talk about it later?" Caine nodded and drifted over to where Sarah was dismissing her group of little girls.

Peter was vaguely aware that his father had been talking with Sarah, and that now Sarah was headed upstairs. He tried to bring his focus back to his class, but was only partially successful. Caine rejoined Peter.

"Peter, if you will allow me to finish with your class I would like you to join Sarah upstairs," Caine told him.

Peter immediately became tenser. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Not at all, my son. I think she can help you." Caine bowed to his son.

Although Peter was technically the Master of this kwoon, his father had just dismissed him. Peter was aware that his students were watching him. He sighed. Well, he had to provide a model of obedience. "Sure, Pop, whatever you say," Peter replied, bowing in return to his father. Peter turned and fled up the stairs, wondering exactly what was going on.

Sarah was preparing an herbal oil when Peter walked into the apothecary. She was an amazing student of the healing arts, Peter thought to himself. She possessed a natural talent and had already picked up a lot of knowledge regarding the herbs and potions his father was always mixing.

"Hey, Sarah," he greeted her. "How did class go?"

"Quite well, actually," she told him. "I love working with those little ones. They're so cute. I just have to make sure I stay far enough ahead of them so I don't lose my position as their teacher." She eyed Peter carefully. "What's up with you?"

Peter had no intention of laying his problems on her. She had enough to deal with of her own. So, he shrugged off her question, "Nothing. I'm just a little tense."

"So your father tells me." She completed her preparations with the oil. "Well, come on over here and we'll see what I can do for you." Sarah led the way over to a chair and indicated that Peter should sit in it. She set the small bowl of herbal oil on the table.

"What? No, Sarah, that's really not necessary," he told her.

"Your father, my master," she emphasized, "Thinks it is. So sit down already!" She dug her kneecap into the back of his knee. As his knee buckled, she pushed firmly on his shoulder in a back and down direction. Peter thudded into the chair.

"You've been taking lessons from the nurses at City Hospital, haven't you?" he muttered.

Sarah gave him a mischievous smile. "Okay, Peter, now that I've got you seated, take off your shirt."

Peter spluttered at her. She had never treated him before, in fact, to his knowledge, she'd never treated any male patients before. In deference to her past experiences and fears, his father generally limited her to female patients. Yet here she was, nonchalantly ordering him to take off his shirt.

"Peter, give me break. I'm not going to swoon at the sight of your naked torso. Besides," she gave him a slightly evil smile, "You can consider me a healer right now." Peter had used those very same words to her after she'd gotten into a fight and injured her back. What Peter hadn't known at the time was that she had been trying to prevent him from seeing the scars on her back, scars resulting from several years with an abusive husband. "You have battle scars you're trying to hide from me?" she asked him. Peter was amazed that she had progressed to a point where she was able to joke about it with him. What he didn't realize was it was only with him that she felt that comfortable.

"Look, Peter, I know I can help you. I thought we were friends?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow. "Let me help you. Or do I have to be a robber to get you to shuck your clothes?" she teased him with twinkling eyes.

"I see your sense of humor has returned," Peter told her drolly. "Okay, I surrender." He peeled off his shirt. "Do your worst."

Sarah came around to the back of the chair and poured some of the herbal oil into her hands. She briskly rubbed them together to warm the oil and then began kneading Peter's shoulder muscles. "Wow! You really are tense," she confirmed. Peter just grunted. Sarah continued to massage his tight shoulders.

"Your hands are actually hot," Peter commented.

"Good, they're supposed to be. Be sure to tell your father that. He's been working with me on it for the past several weeks." Caine had been training her to allow healing warmth to flow from her hands.

"Who gets the back rub during these training sessions?" Peter wanted to know.

"Why, your father, of course."

"Of course. Hey, next time you need someone to practice on, I?m available."

Sarah's hands continued to minister to Peter's body and he began to relax. She allowed her hands to wander down the front of his shoulder, stopping when she encountered a scar on his right shoulder. "What do you know? You really do have battle scars, too," she stated. "Want to tell me about it?"

"Not much to tell," he said. "Such is the life of a cop. It's a bullet wound. Actually, though, that one was compliments of an old enemy of Pop's." Peter moaned as Sarah's hand found a particular sore spot. "No more talking, please, Sarah? Just don't stop. Skalany was right; you do have magical hands."

Sarah chuckled, pleased at Peter's response. "Is that what Mary Margaret said about me?" She continued on Peter's shoulders for several more minutes, then stopped. Peter groaned in protest. "Settle down, Pete, I just want you to move to the floor so I can do the rest of your back."

Peter practically leaped from the chair and quickly sprawled face down on the floor. Sarah kneeled beside him and began to work on the muscles alongside his spine. "You are fantastic," he mumbled into the floor.

Sarah smiled. She was glad that she was finally able to do something to help Peter. He had done so much for her; there was no way she'd ever be able to repay him. "Wait 'til you get my bill," she teased.

Peter gave her a faint half-smile. His eyes were closed and he was drifting into a very peaceful state. It was definitely better than meditation, Peter thought. He became vaguely aware that she was having some kind of difficulty.

"Ummm, Peter? There is an easier way for me to do this, if you don't mind?" she asked him.

"Sure, whatever," Peter's answer trailed off lazily. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to think, he just wanted to enjoy the sensation of her warm hands on his sore muscles. He was however, somewhat startled when she straddled his back. In his hazy mind the move had an almost sexual overtone to it, and Peter was shocked when his body responded. Thank God he was lying on his stomach. That probably would have sent Sarah fleeing into her own room and he'd never get another of these wonderful back massages. Get a grip, Peter, he told himself. You've been out of the field for too long. Maybe you should get back with Jordan. He thought about it for a minute. NOT!

His thoughts were rudely interrupted when Sarah began to massage his muscles with renewed vigor. "Ouch, hey, take it easy!" he protested.

"Sorry, Peter. I told you I could get at your muscles easier this way. I'll try not to hurt you so much."

"You don't need kung fu lessons. You've got so much strength in those hands you could probably just snap somebody in two. Or just poke them and kill them," he joked with her. Peter decided to stop talking again. It only distracted him and kept him from relaxing completely. Soon, under her capable hands, all his problems seemed to melt away.

Sarah could tell that Peter had actually fallen asleep on the floor by his deep, even breathing. She knew he didn't realize how special he'd become to her. This was the only man her age that she'd ever felt completely safe with. He knew things about her that made Sarah flinch to even think about. He has a sweet soul, she thought. She leaned over and brushed a kiss on the side of his forehead. Then she ran her hands lightly down his back one more time. Sarah might have had horrible experiences with men in the past, but she could still appreciate the fact that Peter was a fine figure of a man. She blushed at her thoughts, and with a sigh that betrayed the fact that she never expected to have a loving relationship with any man, much less one as special as Peter, she rose to tend the plants on the terrace. Her mother had always told her that if wishes were horses than beggars would ride. Sometimes it was best to leave wishes unwished and dreams undreamed. It hurt less that way. She left Peter sleeping soundly on the floor, covered with a blanket she draped over him.

Caine entered his apartment, surprised to find his son sleeping on the floor. His apprentice was not visible so Caine knew she must be out on the terrace. It was her favorite place in the building. She could often be found there when her tasks had been completed, tending the plants, reading, or just enjoying the sunshine. Caine wondered how she was going to tolerate the harsh winters. He stepped onto the terrace to join her. "I see you managed to reduce Peter's tension," he told her.

Sarah chuckled as she peeked in from the terrace to see Peter still sprawled out on the floor. "I guess so," she replied. "He certainly was very tense. His muscles were all in knots. Any idea of what's bothering him?" she asked Caine.

"Did you not ask him yourself?" Caine often answered questions with more questions, so Sarah was not put off by his response.

"Yes, I did, but you know he thinks I have enough problems without dealing with his, too."

Caine shrugged his shoulders and gestured to her, as if to say, then I will not go against him. Sarah sighed and gave a small stamp of her foot. Caine raised an eyebrow at her. She was beginning to show signs of a temper, he thought. That was actually a good sign that she was continuing her journey of healing.

"I wish you guys would stop treating me like I'm made of glass!"

"Sarah, you must admit, you were shattered when I met you," Caine said.

"But I'm not anymore!" she protested. "Master, I've worked hard, haven't I?" Caine nodded. "Then give me some credit!" She turned and breezed through Caine's apartment on her way to her own across the hall.

The sound of the door slamming caused Peter to jump, drawing him to full awakening in an instant. He realized he was still lying on the floor and had been covered with a blanket. He slowly pushed himself to a standing position and stretched, delighting in the fact that his muscles were no longer tense.

Peter noticed his father watching him from the terrace. "Hey, Pop," he greeted him. "I take it that was Sarah leaving that woke me from my nap?"

"Yes," Caine affirmed. "She was upset."

"Obviously. You two have another tiff?"

"No. She is merely asserting herself. As she moves along her path of healing, she will begin to separate more from the posts she has been leaning on us. She requests that we no longer treat her as if she were fragile."

Peter ran his hand through his hair and thought about it. She had made incredible progress lately. Maybe it was time to stop treating her with kid gloves. "Okay, Pop, I'll do my best."

"That is all we can do, my son. Now, tell me of your problem with Jordan," Caine encouraged.

Peter told his father of Jordan's strange recent behavior. She and Peter had broken up months ago, while Caine was in Europe. Jordan just wasn't able to accept Peter in his role as a Shaolin priest. Truth be told, things hadn't been really right between them even before that. But recently Jordan had been pursuing Peter again, and her behavior was becoming quite disruptive to Peter's life. "Pop, she calls me in the middle of the night, she leaves strange messages on my answering machine, and today I actually found a note from her in the Stealth. I tell you, Pop, I almost feel like I'm being stalked. This is not like Jordan at all."

"You have made it clear to her that you have no intention of resuming your relationship with her?" Caine wanted to know.

"Yes!" Peter answered emphatically.

"Perhaps it is time to change your phone number?" Caine suggested.

Peter sighed. "Pop, she's a cop," he explained, "She'd have the number in minutes." Peter felt like he had run out of options. He'd already talked to Jordan until he was blue in the face. It just seemed that the message was not getting through.

Several mornings later found Sarah strolling leisurely down the streets of Chinatown. She had easily fallen into the same habit of both Caine and Lo Si. They would generally walk the streets at least several days a week, touching base with the people of the neighborhood.

Sarah had come to truly love living in Chinatown. It was so vibrant and colorful, so alive. Just walking down the street provided the opportunity to meet many new people and see all kinds of things. Sarah had no idea that this morning she would see more than she'd bargained for.

Though Sarah had no plan for her strolling, she discovered herself in front of Mr. Lee's shop. This was where she had been kidnapped several months ago. Sarah shook her head to clear the bad memories that flooded her mind. What could have possessed her to come here? Then she remembered that Mr. Lee's daughter had been by to see Caine recently. Perhaps Sarah would check on her.

When Sarah left Mr. Lee's shop the autumn sun had managed to break through the clouds. That helped to lift her spirits. She simply craved sunshine and did not look forward to the winter which would be arriving all too soon.

Sarah would be able to report to Caine that Susie Lee was doing much better. The injury to her arm, which had resulted from a fall off a ladder in her father's store, was almost completely healed.

A sudden noise like firecrackers shook Sarah from her thoughts. Firecrackers were a common thing in Chinatown. However, loud shouts followed, and Sarah realized that the sound had been gunfire, not firecrackers. She looked down the street several yards to the nearby bank and saw a man rush out, a gun in his hand and a mask on his face. As Sarah watched, the man removed the mask and tucked it and the gun into the waistband of his pants, pulling his shirt down over it to conceal it. He began to walk in Sarah's direction.

In the background, Sarah could already hear the faint sounds of sirens as the police rushed to the bank. At the sound of the sirens, the robber turned to flee up an alleyway, but he stopped short when he realized that Sarah had seen his face. He pulled the gun from his waistband and aimed at Sarah. She threw herself to the ground just as the gun went off. The sirens were much closer now; the perp had no time to try for a second shot. He turned and fled up the alleyway.

Peter was just getting out of the shower when the phone rang. He was beginning to wish he had followed his father's lead and never had one installed. He was really growing tired of these cat and mouse games with Jordan. Peter picked up the phone, expecting to hear her voice. He was quite surprised when it was Sarah's voice that greeted him from the other end.

"Hi, Peter. Listen, I need a favor. Do you think you could come and pick me up?" she asked him.

"Pick you up? Where are you?" Peter had no idea that she'd even left the building already this morning, let alone gone so far that she needed a ride to get back.

"I'm at the 101st." Peter began to get a slightly sick feeling in his stomach. He wondered just what she had gotten herself into this time.

"Are you hurt?" he had to ask.

"Peter, I said I'm at the station, not the hospital." Her voice took on a peeved quality. She was getting annoyed with his response. "Besides," she continued, "This time I remembered to duck."

Peter sat wearily on the edge of his bed. "Duck what?" He didn't hear the phone being passed to another person. The next voice he heard was that of Kermit Griffin.

"Hey, Kid, if it's a problem, I can bring Dollface home," he informed Peter.

"Duck what, Kermit?" Peter wanted his question answered and he wasn't going to change the subject until he'd gotten a response from someone.

"Um, maybe we should discuss that when I see you." Kermit had no intention of telling Peter over the phone that someone had taken a shot at his favorite student.

"Kermit, what's going on?" Peter raked his hand through his hair, then realized what he was doing and stopped. At the rate Sarah was going he would be bald within a year, he mused.

"Dollface just happened to witness a bank robbery this morning. We brought her down her so we could create a sketch of the perp." Kermit's low, even voice soothed Peter's frazzled nerves. "You want me to bring her home?"

"No, Kermit, I'll be there in about a half an hour to pick her up. Try to keep her out of trouble that long, will you?" Kermit assured Peter that he would do his best. Peter felt better already. It Kermit was babysitting her, then she would be fine. After all, how much trouble could she get into while she was inside the police station?

Peter walked into Kermit's office to find Sarah leaning on Kermit's shoulder, watching his computer monitor intently. He cleared his throat, causing them both to look up at him. "What have we here? Hacking lessons?" he inquired with a smile that hid his nervousness. He wanted to get to the bottom of this situation and get out of the station. He did not want to run into Jordan while he was there.

The two looked at Peter, guilt on both their faces. "Oh, no," Peter groaned. "Kermit, you promised to keep her out of trouble, not instruct her on more ways to find it!" Peter silently cursed the fates and his own past. He was certain that dealing with Sarah and her penchant for getting into trouble was his penance to pay for doing the same thing to both his fathers.

"Kermit had work to do and I'm just watching," Sarah was quick to protest. Peter held his hand up in a weary signal that told Sarah he was not interested in pursuing this line of conversation.

"All I want right now is to hear about your little adventure with a bank robbery this morning," he informed her.

Sarah looked at Kermit and decided it was in her best interest for him to tell the story. She moved around the front of Kermit's desk and settled herself in a chair there.

Kermit told Peter all about the robbery, Sarah's look at the perp's face, and his attempt to shoot her. When Kermit got to that part of the story, Peter closed his eyes, shook his head, and counted his blessings that she had, indeed, been paying attention in his classes with her. Much as she drove him crazy sometimes, Sarah was special to him and he didn't want to lose her to anything, much less a bullet. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "You are very lucky, young lady," he told her. "Bullet wounds are not fun, take it from someone who knows."

Sarah grimaced at his choice of phrase. She hated when he called her young lady. They were just about the same age, but sometimes Peter made her feel as though she were 12 years old.

Kermit continued the story, informing Peter that with Sarah's help they had managed to create a good sketch of the robber. Hopefully, it would give them the edge they needed to bring the guy in.

When Kermit had finished, Peter was satisfied that he had the full story and nothing had been omitted. He stood to leave and was suddenly inspired. He decided that he would talk to Capt. Karen Simms regarding Jordan's behavior, just to ask a few questions and see if anyone else was noticing changes in her.

"Sarah, I've got to talk to Capt. Simms for a few minutes. Visit with Skalany if she's around, talk with Kermit, do anything, but stay out of trouble!" Sarah sighed and looked down at her feet. Peter knew she would obey him. He shot a parting quip to Kermit as he headed for Simm's office, "And no more hacking!"

Sarah looked over at Kermit and rolled her eyes. Kermit stifled his laughter. He really liked this young woman. She certainly kept Peter on his toes.

Peter's conversation with Capt. Simms reveled to him that he was not the only one concerned about Jordan's behavior. Simms told him that Jordan's personality change seemed to begin two months ago. No one had been able to figure out was going on with her. Simms went so far as to tell Peter that she had ordered Jordan to undergo complete physical and psychiatric testing, but nothing had been discovered as a result. Peter confided in Simms, telling her of Jordan's unrelenting pursuit of him. Both agreed that something serious was going on, but neither had any idea of where it was going to take them.

When Peter left the Captain's office, he hollered across the bull pen to Sarah, who was engaged in a conversation with both Mary Margaret Skalany and Kermit. She acknowledged his command with a wave of her hand, and turned to take her leave from the pair. Peter headed for the stairs, pulling up sharply as he recognized the figure storming up the stairs towards him. He glanced around quickly for another avenue of escape, somewhere he could avoid or at least postpone the confrontation that was about to take place. There was nowhere to go. He took a deep breath and braced himself.

Jordan did not disappoint him. "Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Peter Caine? Or is that Father Peter Caine? How does one address a Shaolin priest, anyway?" Jordan's eyes were hooded with anger. "No one's seen you around town with any of the ladies lately, Peter. There's a rumor going around that the great lady killer, Peter Caine, has taken his vow of chastity." She certainly wasn't pulling any punches today.

Peter ran his hand nervously through his hair, and muttered the standard reply, "I'm not that kind of a priest." He'd heard the line enough times from his father, but it was the first time he'd ever used it himself.

Jordan wasn't through toying with him. "Then what's going on, Peter? Have you got yourself a Chinese cutie that you keep hidden back in Chinatown and don't let her out?"

Inspiration struck Peter for the second time. Yes, that was it. If Jordan thought he had a new love, then maybe she'd leave him alone.

As if on cue, Sarah walked up behind him at exactly that moment. She couldn't see who was standing in front of Peter, but she could clearly read the tension on his back. She reached out a hand to knead his shoulder. "All my hard work, right out the window," she complained.

Peter reached up to grab her hand and pulled her in close to his side. She looked up at him, clearly surprised by his response. Peter gazed deeply into her eyes, and she could read his silent plea, follow my lead. Peter could only hope she'd be as good at the game as Skalany had always been.

"As a matter of fact, Jordan," Peter told his ex-girlfriend, "It is something like that. I'd like you meet Sarah Jacobson, my father's apprentice and the new lady in my life." Sarah's eyes widen slightly but she gave no other indication that this was news to her. She turned to face Jordan with a pleasant smile on her face, nodding her head in greeting.

Jordan eyed her critically, appraising her with an evil look. "No way, Peter. You've got to be kidding me. This," she gestured with undisguised disgust, "is definitely not your style."

Peter looked down at Sarah just in time to see her blanche. Jordan's comments had hit their mark; Peter could see the pain in her eyes. Damn it, Jordan, he thought, that was mean. Peter could think of only one way to convince Jordan that his charade was real, and as a bonus, he wouldn't have to look at the pain in Sarah's eyes any longer. Leaning in to her, he closed his eyes and kissed her squarely on the lips.

Sarah gasped at the intimate contact and would have pulled away were it not for Peter's hand, which had now found its way to the back of her head, holding her firmly in place. Peter used the gasp to his advantage, sneaking his tongue into her now opened mouth. It only took Sarah a moment to recover from her shock. When she did, she responded in kind, in what she hoped would be a convincing display of a passionate kiss. She wrapped both her arms around Peter's neck and tried to make it look like she knew what she was doing.

Peter knew he was going to pay for this later, but he found that he was actually enjoying it in the meanwhile. Suddenly he had a feeling as if he were completely outside of time. It was as if time was standing still and this moment was all there was in the entire universe. It was a strange experience for him; one he wasn't quite sure how to handle. However, the sensation was definitely on the pleasant side.

When Peter finally decided to come up for air, he opened his eyes and was pleased to note that he had achieved his goal. Jordan was nowhere to be seen. He looked down into Sarah's eyes and was uncertain what he read there. He was not sure if she was going to kill him when they left the precinct or not. "Come, on, let's get out of here," he told her, pulling her by the hand behind him as he fled down the stairs.

Kermit and Skalany looked at one another. "Uh, oh, he's done it now," Skalany murmured.

"Oh, yeah," was Kermit's reply. "Did you see the look in Jordan's eyes?" Kermit growled darkly. He could tell that Jordan was loaded for bear when she left. Peter had better watch his back, he thought.

"Forget Jordan!" Skalany told him, "Did you see the look in Sarah's eyes?"

Kermit shook his head. He had been too busy observing Jordan. In his ex-mercenary opinion, that was where the danger lay. "Well, Peter Caine may have just bitten off more than he can handle."

When Peter had the Stealth cruising its way back home, he risked a quick glance sideways at Sarah. She hadn't said a word since they'd left the station. Peter knew he had better address the situation while he had her captive in the car. She couldn't get away from him, nor would she risk punching him while he was driving, he thought ruefully. Humor, he thought, my best bet is to approach this with humor.

"Well," he began, "You certainly play the Follow My Lead Game well. You're almost as good as Skalany at it." He glanced at her again to see how she was reacting to his words. She was ignoring him.

"Sarah," time to change his approach, "I'm sorry if I scared you. Let me explain. Jordan's really been hassling me. I just thought that if she thought I had a new girlfriend, then she'd leave me alone. I'm sorry I used you like that." Peter paused to see if he was having any effect at all.

She still had a strange, almost numb expression on her face. He was beginning to get concerned. Had he scared her that badly? She hadn't felt all that upset in his arms, Peter thought. He had held her in the past when she was upset and she generally trembled. He didn't think she was that good of an actress that she could have hidden a severely frightened response while he held her in his arms. He reached out to brush his hand against her arm. "Sarah?"

She turned her head and looked at him as if he had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Her face flushed, and she turned back to look out the window. "I've never been kissed like that," she whispered, so low Peter was almost unsure of what she'd said.

When the words sunk in, Peter cursed himself for being a fool. Of course she'd never been kissed like that. She was totally innocent when it came to the art of lovemaking. Her ex-husband hadn't loved her, hadn't cherished her; he had used intimacy as a power play against her. How could he have been such an idiot? Peter had no idea what to say to her now, so they both finished the trip home in silence. Sarah fled to her apartment immediately and Peter didn't see her for the rest of the day.

It was the middle of the night when Peter awakened to hear a steady thudding coming from the kwoon beneath his apartment. His curiosity aroused, though he sensed no danger, he decided to go downstairs and check it out. He moved silently down the stairs and stood in the shadows of the kwoon.

It was Sarah and she was relentlessly kicking the heavy bag, over and over again. I'm glad she's kicking that bag, and not me, Peter mused. He watched her for several minutes as she continued to kick the bag. She had developed a powerful right kick, but she totally favored that leg. Peter stepped from the shadows. "Use the other leg as well, Sarah," he instructed his student.

Sarah froze. She had not heard Peter enter. She turned and glared at him. "I wasn't aware this was class time," she informed him smugly.

"Anytime is a good time for learning," Peter replied. He felt more comfortable that they were currently in the role of student and teacher. "I've told you many times to practice even more with the left leg than you do with the right until it is as strong."

Sarah made a face at him. She was seething with anger and she didn't quite know how to handle it. Peter was her teacher, her friend, but she felt betrayed by his behavior at the station. She was confused by her emotions. She turned back to the bag and resumed kicking it, spitefully continuing to use her right leg.

Peter approached her, reaching out to grab a hold of her arm. He was unprepared for her reaction. "Don't touch me!" she hissed at him through clenched teeth. Peter did not release his grip on her arm. They stood there glaring at one another for several moments.

Though the move was clearly telegraphed, Peter's brain could not accept it, and so he had the wind knocked out of him when Sarah kicked him in the solar plexus. He bent over, gasping for air as she moved away from him, out of his reach. When he could straighten up again, he looked over at his student, a generally gentle flower who had just attacked him unprovoked. There were tears streaming down her face.

Peter did not know what was going on, but those tears were a sign to him that she needed comforting. He was willing to forgive the unexpected blow to his stomach. It was certainly no less than he deserved after his behavior at the station.

He moved toward her. She backpedaled out of his reach. Peter stopped to think. Was this a time for patience or a time for pushing? Patience had never been his strong suit, so he opted for pushing. He moved on her again. She danced around him. It was truly beginning to take on the appearance of one of their sparring matches, except for the fact that both of their tempers were starting to rise.

"Sarah, come on," he tried to reason with her, "Let's sit down and discuss this rationally." Her eyes flashed at him. Peter was shocked. He had never seen anger in her eyes like that. Well, Lo Si had warned him before her kidnapping that anger often followed on the heels of fear. Time to take her in hand, Peter told himself, before one of us does something we'll really regret.

Peter had all the advantages. After all, he was a master, she was a novice. He was larger, stronger, and faster. He darted in and grabbed her again by the arm. She went wild, and used his own lessons against him. She jerked her arm down and quickly circled it around, finding the weakest spot where his thumb overlapped his other fingers. His hold on her was broken, and she followed through with a punch to his face, a punch she pulled at the last second, hitting him only lightly.

Now Peter was mad. "Never hesitate," he purred at her, his voice indicating a control he did not feel. "You've just lost all your advantage of a surprise attack." He swept her legs out from under her and followed her to the floor, pinning her with his right arm across the front of her shoulders. He was astounded by the anger he felt. Now it was he who felt betrayed. His entire body was trembling with restraint. Sarah looked up at him from her position beneath him.

"Go ahead," she taunted him. "Do it! Do it!" Peter followed her gaze to his own left hand, which was poised midair, prepared to strike her. He closed his eyes. Dear God, what was he thinking? He rolled off of her and lay on his back, chest heaving with exertion. He didn't open his eyes when he heard her flee the kwoon, thudding up the stairs to the third floor. He continued to lie there until his father melted out of the very same shadows where Peter had concealed himself.

Peter sat up as his father sank to the floor next to him. "Pop, how long were you there?" Peter wanted to know.

"Long enough, my son," Caine responded. Peter could hear no condemnation in his father's voice, only weariness and perhaps sorrow.

"Then do you think you could explain to me what just happened here?" he inquired of his father, "Because I have absolutely no clue. But first, I think I need to tell you something." Peter informed his father what had happened at the station. Caine began to get some understanding of what Sarah was feeling.

"Peter, she is confused. She is not quite sure of how to handle your relationship with her, so she is falling back onto the old patterns of her life." Peter looked at his father, puzzled. Caine tried to explain further. "There are patterns all around us, Peter, in nature, and in our lives. Sarah did not know how to relate to you after what happened today when you kissed her. So, her response was to try to recreate the pattern she was most familiar with."

Peter was beginning to understand. "So, she tried to goad me into beating her because that's the pattern that has been in her life?" It sounded slightly demented to Peter, and it also made him feel sick to his stomach to think how close he had come to fulfilling her unspoken request.

Caine nodded. "Great," Peter muttered. "Now I have two crazy women in my life." Caine put his hand on his son's arm.

"My son, you must be patient. Sarah will come through this as she has all the other crises you have helped her through." Peter wasn't as optimistic. He was afraid their relationship had been damaged beyond repair by the events of this day.

For several days they did their best to avoid one another. The only time they had contact was when Sarah worked in the kwoon. Sarah spoke only in direct response to something that Peter had said. She was respectful but distant.

Peter had even been avoiding his father's apartment in an attempt to put some space between them. He wanted to give things a chance to cool off before he tried to make up with her. He still wasn't quite sure he completely understood what had happened.

When Kermit called requesting that Sarah come down to the precinct, Peter felt it best to have Kermit pick her up and drop her off. "You and Dollface having some sort of a problem?" Kermit inquired.

"Oh, yeah, Kermit, oh yeah."

"It doesn't have anything to do with that little scene you treated us all to the other day, does it?" Kermit and Skalany had speculated about the reaction Peter would receive from Sarah.

"Sort of, Kermit. Look, just come and get her. I'll tell her to be ready." Peter hung up the phone. He really did not want to get into the details with Kermit. He had a real soft spot for Sarah ever since the two of them had bonded over Kermit's spare sunglasses. Kermit was liable to rip Peter's heart out if he heard about the midnight incident in the kwoon.

Sarah was waiting outside of the kwoon when Kermit pulled up in his green Corvair. "Hi, Dollface," he greeted her. "Hop in." Kermit scrutinized her carefully. She definitely wasn't herself, but she didn't look like she was in the mood to talk about it. Kermit reached into his jacket pocket and handed her his spare glasses. She slid them on, flashing him a grateful smile. It helped to have a friend who understood when you just wanted to hide out.

Kermit needed Sarah at the station to see if she would be able to pick out the bank robber from a line up. They had a suspect in custody that matched the sketch they had created. If Sarah could ID him, they could file charges against him. She picked him out without a problem. Now she would have to testify when he came up for trial.

Kermit took her out for lunch after they left the precinct. He hoped that she'd open up to him over a pizza, but she still wasn?t talking. He'd have to encourage her. "You know, Dollface," he began, "I may be Peter's friend, but I'm your friend, too. If you've got a problem, maybe I can help." Kermit reached over and removed the glasses from her face, then removed his own. Sarah was surprised to see the concern that was clearly visible in his eyes. It was a move designed to put her slightly off balance, and it worked. She sighed heavily.

"Kermit, I don't even know where to begin," she told him.

He reached out and gently grasped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look deeply into his eyes. He spoke softly. "You're falling in love with Peter," he revealed.

Sarah's mouth gaped open as Kermit let go of her chin. She had not admitted that even to herself before this.

"The eyes are the windows to the soul, Dollface, and that's what your eyes are telling me. That kiss he gave you the other day, even though it was under false pretenses, it pushed you over the edge, didn't it?"

Sarah nodded mutely and Kermit didn't know whether he should bless Peter Caine or kill him. "What are you going to do?" he asked her. She shrugged her shoulders. "Have you thought about telling him?" Panic filled her eyes. "All right, calm down," he soothed, "If you're not going to tell him, then I'm certainly not going to."

"Kermit, I don't know if you heard what Jordan said the other day or not. She said I was not Peter's type, and you know, she was right. I'm not good enough for Peter." Sarah was no longer meeting his eyes.

"You're selling yourself short, Dollface, and Peter, too. Don't you think you should let Peter decide that for himself?"

Sarah shook her head. She couldn't risk the hurt, the rejection. It was easier to live with unrequited love than the idea that Peter wouldn't want her. She couldn't risk the fragile friendship that they shared, a friendship she was sure she had damaged beyond repair the other night in the kwoon.

Kermit walked Sarah into the kwoon when he returned her home. They were both drawn to the sight that greeted them. Peter and Caine were working on forms together under the watchful eyes of Lo Si. Watching the two of them flow gracefully about the kwoon floor was quite an experience. Peter was the tiger, raw power, and Caine was the crane, graceful speed.

Kermit was captivated. Sarah touched his sleeve, "They're really something, aren't they?" she whispered, so as not to distract the two men. Kermit nodded. There was a beauty in the forms which Kermit had never seen before.

When the pair had finished, they bowed to one another. Lo Si commended them. "That was marvelous!" he told the father and son team. They bowed in response to Lo Si's praise, then noticed that they had acquired a larger audience. Peter and Caine bowed to Kermit and Sarah as Kermit applauded the performance. Sarah returned the bow to her two teachers.

Lo Si walked over to Sarah. "Ah, Sarah," he addressed her, "just the person I was looking for. This letter came for you today." Lo Si pulled an envelope from his sleeve and passed it to Sarah. By now Caine and Peter had moved to join the group.

Sarah accepted the letter from Lo Si and looked at the return address. Her hands began to tremble. She moved away from them to open and read the letter. Her friends all watched her with concern. They observed the blood draining from her face as she finished the letter. She looked up at them. Now her entire body was trembling. "NO!" she yelled, "No, no, no!" She tossed the letter to the ground and stormed past the startled group, slowing her exit only long enough to smack the heavy bag with a tightly clenched fist as she passed it.

She left four confused men behind her. Kermit walked over to the letter on the floor and retrieved it, reading it on his way back to the others. His face tightened and he handed the letter to Peter. Peter shook his head when he read the words that had sent Sarah storming. Caine placed his hand on Peter's arm. "What does it say?" he inquired. Peter looked at his father.

"This letter is from the parole board, Pop. Frankie's been released from prison." Now they all understood Sarah's reaction. Her ex-husband, who had been sent to prison for almost beating her to death, was now out on the streets somewhere.

Peter headed for the stairs, but Kermit put out an arm to restrain him. "I'll go," he informed Peter, his tone clearly indicating that it was not open for discussion. He took the steps two at a time on his way to Sarah's apartment on the third floor.

Kermit paused at the door. It sounded like a tornado was raging inside. That's good, Dollface, he thought, go with anger. Anger will keep you alive. He let her storm about her room for several more minutes before he entered without knocking.

The noise hadn't prepared him for what he found. Sarah had knocked two holes in the sheetrock. In the middle of the two holes was a bloody smear where she had hit the wall again, but run into a stud. She had collapsed into a heap on the floor.

Kermit scooped her up off the floor and settled the two of them on her bed, leaning back against the headboard and holding her in his arms. She had no energy left to resist him after her assault on the wall, so she tolerated the contact.

Kermit rocked her back and forth while plotting exactly what he?d do to her ex-husband if he was stupid enough to show up anywhere near her. He had seen the scars on her back, as well as the pictures snapped by the police after she'd been taken to the hospital. "Mercenary rules, Dollface," he whispered into her hair. "Oh, yeah."

Peter appeared in the doorway, pausing to reflect on the damage Sarah had done to the wall. He was not happy with the bloody smear on it. She'd obviously hurt herself. He wondered if she'd broken her knuckles when she'd sucker-punched the stud. He didn't think she had that kind of anger in her. Then he thought about her back and all the scars on it. She was certainly justified for being angry.

He turned to look at Sarah and his stomach tightened at the cozy scene before him. He was not prepared for the emotion that seared across his brain and his heart.

Kermit saw the spark of jealousy in Peter's eyes as he took in the sight of him cuddling Sarah. Oh, ho, Kermit thought, maybe Sarah's feelings aren't all that one-sided after all. It would do Peter some good to stew in that jealousy a little while.

He looked down at the woman in his arms. Her fit of anger had worn her out and she had fallen asleep, secure in his arms. He snuggled his cheek against the top of her head, then reached out and caressed her hair. Peter Caine wasn't the only one who could put on a show, Kermit thought smugly.

He looked over at Peter and acknowledged him for the first time since he'd entered the room. He held a finger to his lips to indicate that Sarah was asleep. He gently slid out from behind her and eased her down on the bed. He pulled an afghan from the bottom of the bed and covered her with it. He stopped to kiss her on the forehead, then crossed to where Peter stood with a pinched expression on his face.

"You'll want to have your father take a look at her knuckles later," he told Peter. "The bleeding's stopped, but she really did a number on them. I don't think they're broken." Kermit prepared to leave, but Peter stopped him by laying his hand on Kermit's arm. Kermit looked down at the hand, then back at Peter, who hastily removed it.

"Kermit, I need you to do something for me," Peter informed him. "Actually it's for her," he nodded towards Sarah.

Kermit felt badly that he had antagonized his friend. "Peter, you know I'd do anything for you, or for Sarah. What do you need?"

"I want you to hack into that parole office's computer system and purge Lo Si's address from it. Sarah was smart enough to use his address, but even that's too close for comfort. I don't want that creep to be able to find her if we can help it." Peter handed Kermit the letter and envelope.

Kermit accepted the papers from Peter. "Absolutely, Kid." He looked back over to where Sarah was sleeping on the bed. "So, you have the same gut feeling that I have?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, Kermit. He'll come for her if he can find her."

Kermit sighed. "I'll purge their records as soon as I get back to the station." He walked to the doorway, then turned back to Peter, "Keep an eye on her, Pete. She?s too special to lose." He spun on his heel and was gone.

"You've got that right, Kermit." Peter spoke to the empty space where his friend had stood.

Sarah woke to find Peter sitting beside her on the bed, wrapping gauze around her swollen right knuckles. "Ouch, that hurts," she complained.

Peter looked at her with a half smile. "That's what happens when you go around punching walls." He lowered his voice as if he were conspiring with her, leaned in closer, and whispered, "Next time find out where the studs are in the wall first, okay, Hwa-ren?"

She smiled back at him, relieved at his use of her nickname. He hadn't called her that in days. He held up a small chocolate bar. "Besides bandages, I also bring another peace offering." He waved the candy in front of her face.

"Where did you get that?" she chuckled, thinking that particular candy bar looked awfully familiar. She had to admit that she was easily bribed by chocolate.

"I know all about your secret stash," Peter informed her. "Sometimes I raid it when you're not here and I'm having a snack attack." Sarah hid her chocolate obsession from Caine, fearing his disapproval of her non-nutritional snacks.

"Did you read the letter?" Sarah was curious.

"Yeah, we read it, Sarah. We wanted to know what had set you off like that." Peter knew that they needed to come to an understanding, to set aside the things that had happened between them recently.

Sarah understood what Peter was not saying out loud. They could not afford to fight each other, not now. Her safety could very well depend on their relationship and what she could learn from Peter. Frankie was out there, somewhere, and they both knew that he would come for her. "Peter, I want you to increase my training schedule." She wasn't asking him, she was telling him.

Peter realized the anger that had caused her to decimate a wall had turned to fear. He reached out and stroked her cheek. "Sarah, he's not going to find you." Sarah began to sputter and interrupt him, but Peter continued, "And even if he does, you've got me, Pop, Lo Si, hell, you've even got Kermit wrapped around your little finger now." Peter still stung from watching Kermit hold her in a way that only he had done so before, but he wasn't going to share that information with her. "We are not going to let him get anywhere near you," he assured her.

"Peter, none of you can protect me 24 hours a day. It's just not possible. Please," she pleaded with him, "please, Peter. I need to be able to rely on myself." Peter could see the logic in her argument, so he agreed to begin training her even more intensely.

Sarah's knuckles took a week to heal to the point that she could again throw a punch with her right hand. Peter used her injury to his advantage, working the left side of her body mercilessly. He was determined to train her to be balanced and stop favoring her right side.

Bright sunlight was streaming in Peter's window when he rolled over to look at his alarm clock. He moaned. It was 7:00. Sarah would already be waiting for him in the kwoon. This intensive training schedule of hers was killing him. A shower could wait; he'd only need one after his workout with her anyway. He pulled on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, slipped on his shoes and hurried downstairs.

Sarah's voice greeted him as he entered the kwoon, "Peter, do you have shoes on?" she called to him. Sarah tended to wander the entire building without shoes.

"Yeah, why?" he questioned.

"'Cause then you won't cut your foot like I did," she explained.

"What?" Peter crossed the kwoon to where Sarah was sitting on the floor, her foot cradled in her lap. On his way, he kicked a rock on the floor that had been pitched through the kwoon's front window. Glass was scattered everywhere. Peter was annoyed. Who would want to break his window? They were all accepted by the community, and played a vital role in the neighborhood. Peter could think of no one who would want to vandalize their building.

Peter squatted beside Sarah and looked at her foot. She had a small gash about an inch long on the bottom of her foot. It wasn't deep, so Peter surmised that it wasn't too serious. He retrieved a small first aid kit that he kept in the kwoon and bandaged her foot. He was getting quite adept at minor first aid. "Well, it looks like you'll be doing all your kicking with your left leg for the next few days," Peter grinned at her and she groaned. "Now, don't move. I'm going to get your shoes and then we'll clean this mess up."

Peter and Sarah decided to forego the morning's workout. After they had cleaned up the broken glass, Sarah helped Peter board up the empty space. Peter would have to get a new windowpane later in the day.

"You want to grab some breakfast with me?" Peter asked her.

"Sure, that sounds good," she agreed. "Did you have anyplace specific in mind?"

"The little place on the corner where Pop and Lo Si like to have tea makes a mean breakfast sandwich," Peter told her.

"I didn't know that. Tell you what, let's both get cleaned up, then I'll meet you out front." Peter agreed; he definitely needed a shower before going anywhere in public. They parted company on the second floor as Sarah continued upwards to her apartment.

Breakfast was casual and laid back. The Chinese didn't hurry anything. It was one of the things Peter liked most about his new life in Chinatown. Life was slower here then in the rest of the city. Peter was nursing his second cup of coffee; Sarah was a true tea drinker. She fits so well with my father, Peter mused. He could see some of Caine's mannerisms in her occasionally. Sarah was watching all the people moving about the streets in front of them; Peter was watching her.

He was confused about his feelings where she was concerned, especially the jealously incident with Kermit. He had been trying to get a grip on his heart ever since then. He was beginning to admit to himself that he was attracted to her but he was apprehensive about acting on those feelings. He had no idea if she was even remotely interested in him. Even if she were, if it didn't work out, which was usually the case where he was concerned, she would be hurt, and Peter didn't want to do that to her. Peter decided to quit thinking about it. It was only giving him a headache. He turned his attention back to watching Sarah as she people-watched.

Suddenly Sarah stiffened and sharply inhaled her breath. Peter went on alert instantly. "What is it, Sarah?" he demanded, glancing around for any signs of trouble.

She answered him hesitantly, "I thought I saw Frankie, but I must have been imagining it." Peter scanned the growing crowds that were passing the corner café. Kermit had pulled Frankie's mug shots for Peter, who had shown them to his father and Lo Si so they would all know who they were watching for. He saw no one in the area that matched the face he had burned into his memory. Still, it didn't hurt to err on the side of caution. He decided that she was going home and he was going to pay the 101st a visit.

Peter began his rounds at the station by knocking on Capt. Simms' office door. She called him in and welcomed him. "Peter Caine, what can I do for you?" she asked him. "I take it this is not a social call?" Peter shook his head. "Is this about Jordan?"

"No, actually Jordan's been behaving herself now that she thinks I have a new lady in my life. This is about Sarah Jacobson." Peter briefed Simms on the situation. Simms agreed to share Frankie Jacobson's mug shots at tomorrow's briefing, alerting all the 101st cops of his potentially dangerous presence in the city. If he were spotted, she would inform Peter immediately. "Thanks, Captain, I really appreciate it."

His next stop was Kermit's office. He advised Kermit of the possible sighting of Frankie earlier that morning.

"How's Dollface taking it?" Kermit was concerned.

"She seems to be okay so far, Kermit. She's not absolutely certain it was Frankie this morning, in fact, she really thinks it was just her imagination."

Kermit peered at Peter over the top of his glasses. "And you think?" he prompted.

"My gut says she saw him, Kermit. I think he's here, and I think we better find him before he finds Sarah." Peter's face was somber. "I had a broken window in the kwoon this morning. Someone tossed a big rock through it."

Kermit raised his eyebrows. "Well, Pete, I'll keep my eyes opened while I'm on the street. If he's around, we'll find him."

Skalany ambushed him as he exited Kermit's office. "Peter Caine, just the person I wanted to see," she gushed.

"All right, Skalany, what do you want?" He knew she was up to something from the expression on her face. She whipped out a stack of tickets to the Police Benefit Ball. Peter groaned.

"Come on, Peter, even though you're not a cop anymore, we'll still let you sit at our table," she told him. "Your father's going," she tried to coax him.

Peter looked at her with a smile, "And I take it he's going with you?"

"You know any other female cops he's been hanging out with? If you do, you better spill it."

"No, you're the only female cop that my Pop hangs out with, " he assured her. "Skalany, I'm not even seeing anyone right now. Who would I bring?"

"That's not the word around here, Peter," she teased, "and I saw you kissing a lovely young woman right over there, " she pointed to the stairs, "a couple of weeks ago." She didn't miss the blush that slowly spread across Peter's face. Kermit was right, she thought, there was something going on here. She pushed Peter a little harder, "I heard about the ex-husband thing, Peter. Don't you think this ball would be just the distraction she needs right now?"

Peter ran his hand through his hair. Skalany could be like a terrier with a bone, he thought. She wasn't about to let him leave until he purchased the tickets from her, so he might as well give in now and save himself the trouble. "Okay, Skalany, give me two tickets."

Mary Margaret smiled in triumph. She could smell victory in the air. She gave him the tickets and took his money. "Oh, yeah, Pete, there's something else, too. Jody left this for you. She wanted to give it to you herself, but she had to go pound the pavement." She picked up a small envelope from her desk. She couldn't wait to see his face when he read the card.

Peter looked at the envelope. It was addressed to Peter Caine and Guest. He glanced at Skalany, "What's this?"

"Why don't you open it and see?"

Peter opened the card and began to read its contents. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in surprised when he read that he was invited to an engagement party for Jody Powell. Skalany began to laugh. "Boy, I've really been out of the loop," Peter stated. "When did all this happen?"

"She started seeing this guy just before you left the force, Pete," she informed him. "Wait until you see them together. They're really in love." Peter was happy for Jody. Maybe someday, he mused, maybe someday. Skalany interrupted his thoughts, "And bring Sarah, Pete. That girl needs some social interaction. This way she can polish her social graces before the ball."

"Yes, ma'am," he saluted her. He looked at his watch. "I've got to run, Skalany, I've got a class in half an hour. Tell Jody I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

It was early afternoon when Peter went looking for Sarah. He expected to find her in the apothecary, but his father informed him that she had gone out. Peter was mildly angry. "She's gone out by herself, Pop?" he quizzed his father.

"She is meeting the children in the park, Peter. She will hardly be by herself." Caine could not miss his son's concern.

His father was completely missing the point. "Pop, this morning she thought she saw Frankie, here in Chinatown. I don't want her roaming the streets without one of us with her, okay?" Caine nodded. He knew there was no point in attempting to reason with his son when he was in a mood like this.

Peter abruptly changed the subject. "So, I hear you?ll be escorting Mary Margaret to the Benefit Ball again this year?" he attempted to needle his father.

Caine again nodded his head. "Yes, I will." He gazed intently into his son's eyes until Peter had to look away, "And you, my son?"

How does he do that? Peter marveled. He can see right inside of me. Peter sighed. He may as well tell his father now and get it out of the way. "I intend to ask Sarah to go with me." He threw it out like a challenge, daring his father to comment. Caine smiled at his son, refusing to be baited.

"That is an excellent idea, Peter. I'm sure Sarah would enjoy the ball."

It was not the response Peter had expected. He just shook his head. Would he ever understand this complicated man who was his father? Peter doubted it. "I'm going to the park, Pop. See you later."

Peter left his father chuckling softly to himself. Maybe there was hope for Peter after all.

Peter found Sarah leaning up against a tree, reading a book to the circle of children surrounding her. He crept up behind her and settled down against the opposite side of the tree to listen. She was reading from a thick book and Peter quickly recognized it as the final chapter of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle.

Her voice was thick with emotion and it broke as she read of Robin's final words and his death in the arms of his beloved friend, Little John. Peter peeked around the tree trunk. Several of the children were openly weeping as well. Wow, does she know how to read a story, Peter thought.

He heard the book thump closed and she waited in silence for the children to absorb the death of the hero they had come to love. "Wasn't that a marvelous story?" she asked the children. Peter heard their voices murmuring their agreement with her assessment.

"What will you read to us next, Hwa-ren?" he heard a small voice ask eagerly.

Sarah's laughter rang through his soul. "I don't know yet, Ti Lo. I haven't decided. You'll just have to be surprised. Now, why don't you all go play for a little while, and then we'll have some cookies." She shooed the children off towards the playground. They ran happily from her, having enjoyed the story, but grateful for the opportunity to get up and run.

Peter rolled around the tree trunk, startling Sarah. She gasped. "Peter Caine, you know I hate it when you do that!" she complained, as Peter lay on his stomach, chin propped on his hands.

"Can I have a cookie, too, Hwa-ren?" he asked, an impish smile on his face.

"No. You have not been a good boy," she scolded him mockingly. Peter laughed. This was the Sarah he was coming to love. He froze. Love? Was that possible? He'd never even really kissed her. The one at the station definitely didn't count. Love? Peter brushed the thought aside. There were too many other things going on right now. That thought would have to wait and be dealt with sometime in the future, Peter decided.

"That was an unusual choice to read to a bunch of Chinese kids," Peter shared his opinion.

"Peter Caine, what a prejudicial statement. Robin Hood is an excellent story for anyone," she replied.

"That's not what I meant," Peter tried to explain, "It's just that most of these kids speak English as a second language and Robin Hood is full of all those Middle Age English terms. Weren't they confused by it?"

"Did they look confused to you? I have expanded their horizons, Peter. Good literature is part of a healthy life. They should be exposed to quality literature from all countries. Do you have a particular Chinese favorite I should look up?"

She would have made an excellent schoolteacher, Peter thought. "Hwa-ren, you read them whatever your heart desires," Peter conceded, sneaking his hand into the bag of cookies that lay between them, and quickly snatching one. He popped it into his mouth. "MMM, that's good. Where'd you get them?"

Sarah reached out to brush cookie crumbs from Peter's mouth. "Is it true the way to a man's heart is through his stomach?" she asked him.

"That and by rubbing his back," Peter told her with a smile as he snatched another cookie. She swatted his hand.

"Leave some for the children."

"All right, but only if you tell me where I can get some more."

"Stop by my apartment later, I'll see what I can do," she promised him. She could tell he was doubtful by the look in his eyes. "Peter Caine, I am an excellent cook and an even better baker. What do you think I did all those days at home by myself besides read? Frankie loved to eat, and the better I got at appeasing that appetite, the less I had to worry about appeasing his appetite for beating me when things weren?t right." Frankie's name cast an immediate shadow over the two of them, and Peter remembered the reason he had come to the park in the first place. He sat up, all playfulness gone.

"Speaking of Frankie, Sarah," he began and Sarah blanched, "No, he hasn't been here," he quickly reassured her, "but I just wanted to tell you that I don't want you out wandering the streets by yourself. If I'm not with you, I want you to take Pop or Lo Si with you."

Sarah set her jaw firmly. Uh, oh, here it comes, thought Peter. "Peter, I do not need someone to baby-sit me all the time. Isn't that the point of your training me? So I can rely on myself?"

"Sarah, I'm not going to argue with you. I'm telling you that this is what I expect. You will not leave the building without one of us with you. Do I make myself clear?" Peter was not willing to risk her safety no matter how angry she got with him.

The children swarming back to them, chattering happily prevented Sarah from having to answer Peter. They all clamored for cookies and she doled them out to each child.

Peter sighed. He knew the conversation would have to be finished. Once he got her word that she would obey his instruction, he knew she would not break her promise.

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter suddenly got a glimpse of a man loitering in the area, a man who from this distance seemed to match Frankie's description. He jumped to his feet and took off after the guy, yelling on his way, "Kids! Sarah! Stay right here!"

Peter pursued the man for several city blocks before he lost him in the crush of people. Damn, he thought. Now he wouldn't know if it actually were Frankie or not. He turned back towards the park.

Sarah had run out of cookies by the time he returned. She looked at him, eyes asking the question she refused to speak in front of the children. Peter shook his head. Sarah dismissed the children and stood up on weak knees. She took Peter's elbow, grateful for his support. "You've made yourself perfectly clear, Peter." She picked up their earlier conversation right where they had left off, but Peter knew that it was concluding differently than it would have earlier. "I won't leave the building alone."

Peter, come here, I need you. Caine's voice whispered in Peter's mind. Peter rolled over onto his stomach, content to ignore the voice he was certain was part of an early-morning dream. The voice persisted, more sharply this time. Peter!

He opened one bleary eye to peek at his clock. 6:00 am. He was entitled to another hour's sleep before he met Sarah in the kwoon, but his father's command was not to be denied. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "All right, Pop, I'm coming," he muttered. Sometimes this ability to mind speak with his father was a royal pain, he thought.

Caine thrust a steaming cup of coffee into his son's hands as he staggered in the door. Caine had given up trying to convert his son to tea, and right now he needed Peter awake. Peter was not a morning person. Caine held a finger to his lips to demand Peter's silence, then he pointed to the futon in the corner of the room. Peter could see the form of someone sleeping there.

His mind still half asleep, Peter could not figure out who would be sleeping on his father's futon at this god-forsaken hour of the morning. "What, Pop? Please don?t tell me that's Mary Margaret, because I really don't want to know that." There were some things that even the closest father and son relationship shouldn?t disclose.

"Peter," his father's voice was soft, but he could clearly hear the rebuke in it, "That is Sarah. She had a very restless night, filled with bad dreams. She came to me early this morning seeking comfort and protection. I have done what I can for her, but now I must go out and I did not wish to leave her alone."

Peter looked back over at the sleeping form on the futon. Poor thing, he thought. I guess the scare over possibly seeing Frankie was too much. "I'll stay with her, Pop, no problem."

Caine lightly slapped Peter on the cheek, put on his hat, and left without another word.

Peter took his coffee and settled down next to the futon. It looked inviting and he was severely tempted to scoot Sarah over and grab another hour of sleep himself. But he knew that would only create more problems between them. He finally felt that they had repaired the damage he had caused in the station by kissing her in front of Jordan. He wasn't going to risk the repairs. He set his coffee on the floor beside him and leaned back against the wall. A little snooze like this couldn't hurt, he told himself. Peter was sound asleep in an instant.

He was awakened sometime later by the sound of Sarah thrashing about on the futon. She was tossing and turning, and Peter knew she was in the throes of a nightmare. He reached to wake her, but was startled when she sat bolt upright and screamed, "NO!" She began to sob, "Caine, Caine," looking for his father to comfort her.

Peter wrapped his arms around her, "Shhh, shhh, it's okay. It was only a dream. It's me, Peter." Peter could recall some of his own experiences with bad dreams and nightmares. His father had always been there to comfort him.

Sarah was trembling like a leaf in a windstorm. "Do you want to tell me about it?" Peter inquired softly. Sarah shook her head against his chest. "Was it Frankie?" She nodded. Once again Peter found himself almost hoping that her ex-husband would actually show up. He had a few things he'd like to do to Frankie.

When he finally felt the fear and tension leave her body, Peter eased her back down on the futon and leaned over her, brushing her bangs from her forehead. "You okay now?" he asked gently. She nodded, gazing up at him with wide eyes. Peter could feel those blue eyes drawing him in. The temptation to kiss her was too great, and he leaned in closer... and was stopped in his tracks by a knock on the door.

He flung himself off the edge of the futon, crossed to the door, and yanked it open. Kermit stood in the hallway, a bemused look on his face as he reacted to Peter's appearance at the door. It was readily apparent to Kermit that he had interrupted something. Had Peter finally gotten up the courage to move on his feelings and he had just walked into the middle of it? Oh, well, it couldn't be helped. "Timing is everything," Peter growled at his friend, confirming Kermit's suspicions. "What do you want?"

"Good morning to you, too, Kid," was Kermit's reply.

By now Sarah had gotten up and come to see who was at the door. "Good morning, Kermit," she greeted him. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"How about a cookie, too, while we're at it," Peter muttered.

"What an excellent idea, Peter," she purred sweetly. She had not read Peter's intentions before Kermit's appearance at the door and she was genuinely happy to see him. Her nightmare had been banished and the day was just beginning. Sarah was a morning person. "I'll be right back." She crossed the hallway to her own apartment.

"You were saying, Kermit?" Peter wanted to know why Kermit had arrived on his doorstep this early in the morning.

Kermit was watching Peter with a grin on his face. He was tempted to tease him, but decided that pushing the wrong buttons just now could get him into big trouble. He opted to stick with the reason why he had come. He looked at Sarah's closed door and spoke in a low voice, "I've got good news and I've got bad news," he stated. "The bad news is that I got a call from Frankie's parole officer last night. Frankie missed his weekly meeting. The good news is we've got a guy in custody. He was picked up early this morning hanging out front of the kwoon. He looks like Frankie, but the bad news is the prints don't match. We want you and Dollface to come downtown and have a look, see if we can figure out what the hell's going on."

Peter's anger had dissipated. He wondered if the guy they had in custody was the same guy he had chased in the park yesterday. What was Sarah going to think? Peter paused before answering Kermit, and looked carefully at Sarah?s door. "It's not nice to eavesdrop, Sarah," he called out. He and Kermit both chuckled when her response was to kick the door.

"Rats! I didn't even get to hear anything," she complained from the other side of the door. "Well, since you know I'm standing here, the least you can do is open the door. My hands are full, or didn't your Shaolin senses tell you that part?"

Kermit opened the door. Sarah stood there with two cups of coffee in her hands and a bag of cookies clutched precariously against one mug. She had changed from a set of silks to her standard flower-print shirt and jeans, and her hair was neatly in place. How does she do that? Peter wondered. It took him forever to get moving in the morning. She handed one cup to Kermit, then the other to Peter. "Here," she told him, "Your other cup's cold." She had noticed it next to the futon when she'd gotten up. She handed the bag of cookies to Kermit. "Don't let Peter eat too many," she commanded with a wink. "Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have work to do." She breezed off to the apothecary.

"Come on in, Kermit. I'm not going anywhere until I drink this cup of coffee," Peter ushered Kermit into his father's apartment. The two of them sat down to their coffee and cookies. Then they discussed exactly what they were going to tell Sarah. They agreed to tell her only about the suspect in custody, nothing more. They would let her get a look at this guy and see what she had to say.

"Sarah," Peter approached her in the apothecary when he had finished his coffee and felt like a human being again, "We're going for a ride." She looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "Kermit's got a guy in custody that he wants you to have a look at."

Sarah put down the herbs she was bundling. "Is it Frankie?" she stammered. No fear, she recited to herself, no fear, no fear. Try as she might the fear reached her eyes and Peter saw it. He took her hand in his own.

"They don't know for sure, Hwa-ren, that's why they need you to take a look." She nodded her head at him.

"Okay, let's go. As my teacher is fond of saying, there's no time like the present."

Skalany led the suspect into the interrogation room. Kermit and Peter stood in the viewing room with Sarah. They had both assured her that the mirror was one-way and the suspect could not see her. She stepped closer to the glass to get a better look. She shook her head, "No, that's not Frankie. He looks a lot like him, but that is not Frankie." She didn't know whether she should be relieved or not. If this wasn't Frankie, then he was still out there somewhere.

Kermit and Peter exchanged glances over Sarah's head. If this wasn't Frankie, then who the hell was he? The prints had come back with the name of John Harris. If that was really who he was, then why was he stalking Sarah? It just seemed like too big of a coincidence.

"Sarah, we're going to have Skalany come out of there now. You go with her, okay?" Peter wanted Sarah gone for the next step in the process. He and Kermit were about to teach this guy why this room was called the interrogation room.

John Harris did not like the look of the two men who entered the interrogation room, especially the older guy with the green glasses. What was that all about? The younger guy didn't look too bad, he thought, but that older one looked like he could rip out his liver and eat it for dinner.

"Hey, there, John." The younger one perched on the edge of the table next to him and reached out to lightly smack him on the cheek. "How're you doing? Everything going okay?" Peter was going to scare the truth out of this guy no matter what it took. Mercenary rules. "Can we get you anything?"

Kermit had lit a cigarette, a favorite tool in interrogation. He let the smoke drift directly into the perp's face. He sat down and calmly smoked, never saying a word.

Peter continued, "Look, John, we want to know what you were doing down in Chinatown? That's not your neck of the woods, now, is it?"

The perp squirmed in his seat. "Nothin'! I wasn't doin' nothin'! I just went there for some egg fu yung," he attempted to lie.

Peter shot out his hand and smacked John's face again, a little harder this time. "John, John, don't lie to us. We don't like it when people lie to us." Kermit blew another draft of smoke his way.

"Hey, take it easy," John whined, "That's police brutality."

Peter leaned down until his nose was only inches from the suspect's. "Oh, John, I'm sorry," he growled, "Did I give you the impression that I was a cop?" He pulled his shirtsleeves up and flashed his brands. Peter laughed to himself. He had to admit they were kind of scary looking if you didn't know what they were. He wouldn't want to mess with a crazy guy who had burned a dragon and a tiger into his forearms. It had the desired effect. Peter could see sweat beginning to bead on the guy's forehead. "Do you want to try that one again?" Peter inquired politely.

"I was just following orders," he stammered.

"Whose orders?" Peter wanted to know.

"I, I don't know."

Peter looked over at Kermit, then back to John Harris. "Maybe my friend here can help you recover your memory," Peter crooned in a smooth, velvety tone. Kermit suddenly jumped from his chair and pinned the perp's hand to the table. Peter held him in the chair by leaning on his shoulders. Kermit took the cigarette from his mouth and slowly lowered it until it was a scant inch above the trapped hand. Peter swallowed hard as the image of Sarah's back flashed through his mind. They had no intention of actually burning this guy... Peter could tell it wouldnt even come close, he was ready to crack now. But the scum who was Sarah's ex-husband had actually followed through on this little game; her back bore the testimony.

John Harris squirmed in his seat, and began to sing like a canary, "It was a woman, dude. She paid me to follow the girl, to toss the rock through the window." Kermit put the cigarette back in his mouth and looked at Peter. This was an unexpected turn of events. They continued to pump Harris until they were certain he had no more to give. Then they left the interrogation room.

They were silent, each mulling over the ramifications of Harris' interrogation, until they reached Kermit's office and closed the door. Then they began to kick it back and forth, trying to figure out what Frankie Jacobson was doing.

"He could have paid a woman to front for him," Kermit mused, "and had her pay off Harris and give him the instructions."

Peter tried that out in his mind. "That could be, Kermit, but I don't know. Frankie Jacobson, it seems to me, would not be one to hide behind a woman. No, he's too macho for that. If he were going to hire Harris, he'd have done it himself. To be honest with you, I don?t think Frankie's that smart. I picture him showing up and trying to pummel Sarah much as he did before he went to jail. I don't think he's smart enough to have learned any new tricks in prison."

Kermit pondered Peter's statements. He was probably right. Frankie Jacobson was no rocket scientist. "Then what do you think is going on, Pete?" Kermit trusted Peter's intuition.

"I think we've got another player in the game, Kermit."

Part 1   Part 2

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