Peter found Sarah sitting with Skalany at her desk. She was doodling on a sheet of paper while Mary Margaret worked on some reports. She looked up at Peter's approach like he was a knight in shining white armor come to rescue her. "Peter!" she exclaimed, "Can we go now? This place is dull today, nothing interesting happening here." Peter shook his head, if she only knew. Then he saw the glance pass between Sarah and Mary Margaret, and he knew that she was teasing Skalany.

Skalany looked at Peter, an unspoken question in her eyes. She wanted to know what they had learned from Harris. Peter shrugged his shoulders at her. They didn't have much to go on.

Sarah stood up. Teasing Mary Margaret aside, she was ready to leave the station. "Peter, I have patients to see this morning. We really should get going." She turned and gave Skalany a hug. Mary Margaret looked surprised, Peter thought. That must be something new. "Bye, M&M. Let's have lunch soon, okay? You can tell me more interesting stories about Peter as a cop."

Sarah took Peter's arm possessively and turned him towards the stairs. It was then that Peter caught of glimpse of Jordan lurking near Kermit's office. Sarah was obviously more in-tune today than he was, he chastised himself. At least she was still willing to play the game for him, he thought. But if Kermit's timing hadn't been so bad this morning, it might not be a game anymore. Well, sometimes fate knew best. Peter allowed Sarah to lead him from the station.

Life returned to a peaceful routine. Peter continued Sarah's intensive training, but there were no more Frankie sightings. Though Harris had been released on bail, he had no intentions of ever stepping foot inside Chinatown again, not after his encounter with Peter and Kermit.

Frankie Jacobson however, was still missing. He had only reported to his parole office once since his release from prison. The moment a police officer spotted him, he could be arrested for breaking parole.

For the time being, Peter maintained the status quo of his relationship with Sarah. He didn't want to rock the boat. But things changed on the night of Jody's engagement party.

Sarah was nervous about attending this party with Peter. She was thrilled that he asked her to go with him, though she wasn't quite sure what it meant. But she generally wasn't good with parties. Truthfully, she hadn't attended all that many of them in her lifetime. Peter had assured her that Kermit and Mary Margaret would be there, so she would have familiar people with whom to talk.

When Peter knocked on her door he wasn't sure what to expect. Sarah greeted him shyly. Great, Peter thought, we're both acting like a couple of sixteen year-olds on our first date. "You look great, Hwa-ren," he complimented her. She was wearing a long, flowing dress. Peter chuckled. It was a floral print. At least some things never change, he thought. She also had on a simple gold necklace with a rose on it. Peter picked it up and looked at it. He questioned her about it with his eyes.

"That was my mother's," she explained. "My dad gave it to her when I was born. He told her that she had given him a great gift, and he wanted her to have something to always remind her of that."

Peter stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, "Your father sounds like he was a wise man, Hwa-ren."

The party was being held at a downtown restaurant called the Market Place. Peter parked the Stealth in a corner parking lot and went around to open the door for Sarah. "My, my, such manners this evening," she teased him. He smiled and offered her his arm. She linked her arm through his elbow and they were off. Peter could feel the tension in her arm.

"Sarah, relax, this is party, not the lion's den I'm taking you to," he assured her. Peter had been a relatively social person all his life. It was only during his time at the orphanage when he had to chosen to mostly shun interaction with others. He tried to remember that institutional life would do that to an individual, and Sarah had also spent time in a state institution, though it hadn't been an orphanage. "Sarah, you'll be fine."

They entered the restaurant and quickly made their way to Jody Powell and her fiancé, William Schmidt. Introductions were made all around and congratulations offered to the happy couple. Peter had to admit that they did, indeed, look very happy.

Slowly but surely Sarah acclimated to the point that she actually let Skalany take her from Peter so she could introduce her to more of the ladies.

Peter suddenly found Jordan at his side. "Good evening, Peter," she greeted him cordially. Peter looked at her suspiciously.

"Yes, it is, Jordan," he replied coolly.

"Ouch, you could freeze a fire with that tone, Peter," she complained. Good, thought Peter, just see that it's your flame that gets extinguished. "Where's you little friend? What was her name again? Sarah?" Jordan was the model of innocence.

"Yeah, that's right," Peter informed her. "She's over there," he pointed across the room, "with Skalany." Sarah chose that precise moment to look up and she caught Peter's eye. Peter smiled and waved at her. Sarah identified the woman next to him and responded by blowing him a kiss. Peter chuckled. Damn, she was good at this game.

Jordan was seething inside. She had hoped that by now Peter would have grown tired of his new plaything. Control, she told herself. Mustn't give ourselves away. She turned a happy smile to Peter. "You know, Peter, she seems really nice. I'm sorry about those awful things I said about her at the station that day," she apologized, "It's just that you surprised me, that's all."

Peter carefully tried to judge Jordan's sincerity. "Don't apologize to me, Jordan," he commented, "apologize to Sarah. She's the one your catty little remarks hurt."

Jordan nodded her assent. "I just may do that, Peter," she agreed. "See you later." She moved off.

Kermit slid alongside of Peter. "Watch your back, Pete, I don't think she's finished with you yet," the ex-mercenary told his friend.

"Oh, I don't know, Kermit. She actually just agreed to apologize to Sarah for her catty remarks at the station." Peter felt relieved. He was glad to be able to completely close the Jordan chapter of his life before he truly opened the Sarah chapter.

"Dollface looks pretty good tonight," Kermit noticed. Peter turned to stare at his long-time friend, who responded with a big grin. Peter knew Kermit was tormenting him.

"Yes, she does, Kermit, yes, she does." He wondered just how much his green-glassed friend suspected.

It was several hours later when Peter was reunited with Sarah. "What have you been doing all this time, Miss Social Butterfly?" he teased. "And here I thought I'd have to pry you off my arm tonight." He looked at her closely. Something wasn't quite right about her.

"Peter, all these ladies have heard Mary Margaret rave about being a patient of mine. They all wanted to ask a million questions about this herb and that herb," she trailed off, shaking her head. "Well, at least now I know I can manage the fine art of small talk. Where's Kermit?"

"What? You've been away from me all this time and now you want to know where Kermit is?" Peter's teasing actually contained a nugget of true hurt.

"I'm sorry, Peter, it's just that I promised him that he and I would talk tonight," she tried to explain. Peter pointed out the last direction he'd seen Kermit heading. "Thanks, Peter, you're a gem." She planted a tender kiss on his cheek and took off in search of Kermit.

When she'd found him, she ended up wishing that she hadn't. Kermit wanted to talk to her about filing the paperwork for a formal restraining order against Frankie. "Kermit, is that really necessary?" she demanded. "After all, he's already violated the terms of his parole, right?" Kermit raised his eyebrows at this tidbit; he hadn't known Peter had told her Frankie had skipped on his parole officer, "so he can just be picked up for that and hauled back to prison."

"That's true, Dollface, but if we catch him also violating a restraining order, then he can sit in the slammer for a longer period of time," Kermit reported.

"Oh." It was beginning to make sense to Sarah. She agreed to come to the station and file the paperwork soon.

Kermit slid his glasses down his nose and peered at Sarah closely. She was starting to look green to him and he wanted to be sure it wasn't an effect of his glasses. "Sarah, what's wrong? You look a little green."

Sarah glanced at him. "Next time try your rose-colored glasses, Kermit," she joked, but the concern on his face would not be denied. "I don't know, Kermit. I have this pain in my stomach. I'm sure it's just something I ate that's not agreeing with me. The foods I ate tonight don't exactly represent my normal diet back in Chinatown."

Kermit took her by the arm and dragged her over to where Peter was talking with Skalany. "Dollface isn't feeling well," he announced to the two of them.

Sarah was mortified. "Kermit, give me a break, I told you it's just a stomachache. You don't have to make a major production out of it." Her attempt to downplay her illness was foiled when she suddenly gasped in pain and clutched her stomach.

Peter was instantly at her side. "That's it, we're out of here." He took Sarah by the arm gently. "Kermit, Skalany, please give Jody and William our regrets that we were not able to say good-bye to them. Come on, Sarah, I'm taking you home." Peter knew his concern was justified when she didn't even argue with him.

Hoping the fresh night air would do her some good, Peter waited until they were outside the restaurant to take a good look at her. He stopped her under a street light. Her face was flushed and her pupils were dilated. He first suspected the same thing she did: she had eaten something that didn't agree with her. "Sarah, do you feel nauseous?"

"A little," she replied, "but it's more of a sharp pain than that."

"Well, you know what Pop would say," she was going to hate him for this, but Peter couldn't ignore the possibility of food poisoning as a reason for her distress, "If something within your body is causing this, then let's get rid of it."

Sarah was totally unprepared for Peter's next move, one he had perfected on dealers swallowing evidence. Of course, he generally wore gloves when he tried this stunt on them, and he never felt guilty about it. He moved in close behind her and wrapped his right arm around her tender stomach, squeezing gently. When she opened her mouth to protest, he jammed his left fingers to the back of her throat.

"Sorry, Sweetheart," he apologized into her ear as she bent over the nearby trashcan and lost the contents of her stomach.

"It's crude, but effective," Peter explained with a shrug when she was once again standing upright, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. "Feel better?"

"Not really. Now my throat hurts as well," she complained. "Peter Caine, if I didn't feel like this, I'd kick your butt right now."

Peter chuckled as he led her back to the Stealth. "I do believe you would."

Sarah's appearance did not improve as Peter headed for home. He continually glanced at her and did not like what he was seeing. Her breathing was too quick. He reached his hand out to check her pulse and discovered it was thudding as though she had just run a marathon. She was clutching her stomach and Peter could tell she was in a lot of pain. It didn't look like accidental food poisoning anymore.

"Sarah, I'm taking you to the hospital," he informed her.

"No, Peter, I'm better off with your father," she answered weakly.

"Sarah?" How could he tell her this? Just tell the truth, Peter, he told himself. "Sarah, I think you've been poisoned." He awaited her reaction.

"I think you're right, Peter. So get me to your father quickly." Her words were punctuated by a moan. "It hurts, Peter, it really hurts."

Peter floored the Stealth, offering up a silent prayer that there were no black & whites in the area that would try to slow him down. "Hang in there, Hwa-ren. I'll have you home in a couple of minutes."

By the time they stopped outside of the kwoon, Sarah's condition had worsened. Now her pulse had gone in the opposite direction and it was weak and slow. Peter carried her up the stairs, hollering as he went, "Pop!" He broadcast the plea over their mind-link as well. Pop!

"My own bed, Peter," Sarah whispered to him as they reached the third floor. Peter kicked the door open and set her down on her bed. She curled into a ball with the pain at her middle. Caine came through the doorway a moment later.

He moved quickly into action, checking Sarah's chi and looking sharply up at Peter. "Tell me all her symptoms, from the beginning to now," he ordered his son. Peter ran through the list, the pain in her stomach, slight nausea, the dilated pupils, rapid pulse changing to a slow pulse. Caine's head snapped up when Peter told him that part. He checked her pulse himself. "Sarah? Describe the pain for me." He checked her eyes, and examined her hands.

"It's bad, Master. It's sharp." She moaned again.

"What is it, Pop?" Peter was getting tired of standing around doing nothing.

"I believe she has been poisoned with foxglove, my son."

Sarah gasped in pain as she processed that information, "Digitalis?"

Caine answered her, "Yes." He grabbed Peter's hand and lay it across Sarah's stomach. "Keep your hand here, my son, and think warmth. I shall return in a moment." He disappeared to retrieve what he needed from the apothecary.

Sarah stirred beneath his hand and he began to withdraw it. "No," she begged, "Your father was right, it feels better that way."

Peter replaced his hand against her stomach and tried to radiate warmth from it. "This is not exactly how I planned to end this evening, Hwa-ren."

"Oh?" Her eyes were glazed with pain, but curiosity was also evident there. "And just what did you have in mind, Peter?" She didn't wait for his answer, "Peter, you better grab that garbage can!" Peter was quick enough.

"Definitely not what I had in mind," he chuckled, shaking his head. Caine returned.

"Drink this, Nuer," he gently raised her head and helped her.

"What will that do, Pop?" Peter wanted to know.

"I'm afraid it will make her sicker at first, my son." Sarah responded with a groan.

Caine's potion was as good as his word. She definitely got worse before she could get better. At one point she begged them both to just let her die. Peter flashed a concerned look at his father. "Do not worry, my son," he reassured him, "She will not actually die. She only wishes she could right now."

Sarah's hand reached out for Caine's. "Baba."

Peter raised his eyebrows at his father as she used the Chinese word for Daddy.

"Please, distract my mind. Tell me the story again of the first Kwai Chang Caine."

Caine stroked her forehead. "Of course, Nuer, I will tell you." He continued to stroke her, gently smoothing out the lines in her face caused by the pain. "Many years ago," he began, "my grandfather was born in China..."

Caine's voice was soothing as he spun the story of the original Kwai Chang Caine. Peter listened and watched, entranced as his father's words and hands began to remove all the tension from Sarah's body. "...and do you know what Master Po called the young Caine?" he asked gently.

"Grasshopper," she breathed softly.

"Yes, Grasshopper," Caine agreed, and continued the story. By the time he'd gotten the original Caine to the United States, Sarah had fallen asleep.

"All right, Pop," Peter began, " tell me all about this foxglove she was poisoned with."

"It is a plant that is used to make the drug digitalis, a heart stimulant." Caine shrugged his shoulders. "The drug is quite common, my son."

Peter ran his hand through his hair. Now he had the weapon, what he needed was a suspect, opportunity- plenty of that at the party, Peter thought, and motivation. Who would do this to Sarah and why? Frankie was the first thought to cross his mind, but he dismissed it. Again, it just didn?t seem like his style. He'd have to question Sarah in the morning. Hopefully her memory of the night's events would still be intact.

Peter sighed and looked over at the sleeping young woman before him. He picked up her hand and gently kissed it, then turned to find his father watching him carefully. He was embarrassed. "What, Pop?"

Caine knew he had to handle this very delicately. Where to begin, he pondered. He reached out and placed his hand on Peter's shoulder. "My son, sometimes what we seek is found right under our own noses. You have searched far and wide, now search more closely to home."

He gazed down at Sarah. "Look closely, my son," he instructed Peter.

Peter recognized the teaching-tone of his father's voice, something he used to flee from, but now embraced. Enlightenment was about to come his way if he paid attention. He directed his gaze to Sarah, but wasn't certain what his father was directing him to see.

"Observe her soul, her heart." Caine reached out and covered Peter's eyes with his hand. "Close your eyes, my son. You do not gaze upon the heart with these, you must use the eyes of your own heart." Peter felt like he was 12 again and back at the temple. He did his best to focus himself and comply with his father's instructions. Caine waited several minutes before he questioned his son, "What do you see?"

"I see... Shaolin?" he gasped.

"Yes," his father chuckled. "What else?"

"I see only half," Peter continued.

"Because she has not yet been completed by her soulmate," Caine interpreted. "What else?"

Peter's eyes popped open and he removed his father's hand, turning to meet the searching gaze his father directed at him while he awaited Peter's final answer. "I see myself."

"Yes." Caine reached out to stroke his son's face, then stood to leave.

"But, Father, what does it mean?"

"You are wise, my son. I am sure you will find the answers you seek." Caine looked back at Sarah. "She will sleep until the morning. Try to get some rest." He turned and was gone, leaving Peter to ponder all that he had seen.

Sarah awoke the next morning to find Peter staring down at her. "Don't you have anything better to do," she demanded weakly, "than lay around and watch me sleep?"

"Not really, no. Actually I was watching you breathe, you know, as in making sure you didn't stop. How are you feeling this morning?"

"Like I was hit by a truck. You didn't get the license plate number did you?" Peter was relieved that her sense of humor was intact. He didn;t know too many people who could joke about being poisoned.

"No, ma'am, I'm sorry, I didn't get that information." Sarah closed her eyes and sighed. "Sarah? Are you okay?"

"Yes, Peter," she answered without opening her eyes. "I'm just worn out. I didn't realize that poisoning took so much out you. By the way, do you have any suspects, Mr. Ex-Shaolin cop?"

"Not until you tell me everything you remember about last night. I want to know every crumb you put in your mouth."

"Not now, Peter. I don't have the energy for that now. I have a pounding headache and my mouth feels like the desert at high noon." Peter rolled off the bed. "Hey, where are you going?"

Peter cupped her face in his hands. "Go back to sleep. I'll be back with something for your headache... approved by Pop, of course," Peter didn't want to risk a drug interaction on her after what she'd just been through, "and something to chase that desert away."

It was several hours later that Sarah opened her eyes again, and found Peter in the exact same position she had the first time. "We've got to stop meeting like this," she whispered, and Peter threw back his head and laughed. He leaned over to the nightstand and gave Sarah two capsules and a large glass of water.

"Here, this will help your headache." Sarah swallowed the capsules and drained the glass gratefully. "Better?" Peter inquired. She nodded.

Peter continued to gaze into Sarah's eyes. She began to get nervous. "Is there something wrong, Peter?" she asked.

"Did you know that you have a Shaolin heart?" He wanted to see just what she'd make of that.

Now it was Sarah's turn to laugh, although it hurt her head and she stopped quickly. "Yes."

"You do?" Peter was surprised. All right, he thought, somebody better explain this to me, 'cause I don't get it.

"Your father told me that years ago. He said Shaolin was a philosophy, a way of thinking, and living. Some people are taught the Shaolin way. Some are born Shaolin. He said Shaolin hearts are drawn to one another, and that was why we had been drawn together while I was in the hospital. It was why I recognized that he was no threat to me there."

"That is correct, Sarah," came Caine's voice from the doorway. He moved to her side and began to examine her. "How are you feeling, Nuer?"

"Definitely better than last night. Still not great, but I'll get there," she assured him.

"Yes, you will." Caine looked over at his son who was lying on the opposite side of Sarah's bed and trying to ignore him. "And you, my son? Did you sleep at all?"

"Not really, Pop. I was too busy making sure Sarah kept breathing all night long. That and I was pondering the mysteries of the universe." Peter was a little annoyed. Everyone was constantly interrupting him!

"Ahhhh," was Caine's response, "I see."

He probably does see, Peter thought. So why doesn't he just get the hell out of here?

"Nuer, I want you to rest all day to day. Stay in bed as much as possible. You," he pointed at Peter, "are not to disturb her." Sarah giggled.

"Sorry, Pop, no can do. I've waited long enough and she..." he paused, thinking about what he really wanted to say, "she is going to tell me everything she remembers about last night. In fact, I'll probably have Kermit down here to get a statement from her as well." He glanced at the two of them. They were looking at him intently. He spread his hands, "Sorry. Old habits die hard. It really is important, Pop."

"Very well, but other than that, she rests." Caine was not going to be disobeyed on this issue, "Understand?"

"Gotcha, Pop."

Sarah gave Peter and Kermit as much information as she could recall about the evening. "Was there anything that you ate that you didn't pick up off the buffet yourself?" Peter wanted to know.

Sarah thought about it carefully. "Yes. Somebody gave me a piece of cake when I was talking with that group of ladies." Kermit and Peter exchanged looks. "Sorry, guys, I don't know who it was."

"And of course, with your sweet tooth you couldn't resist a piece of cake, could you?" Peter chided.

Kermit looked at her, "What have you learned from this, Dollface?"

"Umm, only eat Peter's leftovers?" Kermit and Peter burst out laughing, which was exactly the effect Sarah was hoping for.

"No, I think you could starve to death that way," Kermit replied. "Seriously, Dollface, in this world it is dangerous to eat anything that you are not absolutely certain of. Don't eat food other people give you unless you're certain you can trust them."

"What kind of a life is that, always being distrustful?"

"One that lasts a long time."

Peter and Kermit left her to rest and crossed the hallway to Caine's apartment so they could further discuss the entire case. It was the most baffling thing they had come up against in a long time and it was affecting a person they both cared about.

Sarah was back on her feet, completely recovered in just a few days time. Skalany had been queried to see if she could remember who gave Sarah the piece of cake, but she didn't recall either. It had seemed like a perfectly innocent gesture that hadn't registered in either of their minds.

Frankie Jacobson looked down at the address on the paper in his hand. He had received it from a woman who had called the halfway house where he lodged after being paroled. She had informed him that he would find his ex-wife here.

Frankie looked at his surroundings. What the hell was she doing in a big city and in the Chinatown section to boot? Hiding from him, he imagined. Well, it wasn't going to work. Sarah was going to pay for getting him sent up the river. She was going to pay dearly.

Peter and Caine were working with Sarah on forms that evening. She had missed several days worth of classes and they were trying to make up the time.

She didn't have the natural grace that the two of them had. She always felt so clumsy next to them. She was grateful when Kermit walked in and distracted her teacher. She saw Caine eyeing her with the intent to continue her workout, but she pleaded with him silently and he gave her a break. She grabbed her bottle of water and sunk to the ground on the side of the kwoon.

Kermit reported to Peter a possible sighting of Frankie in Chinatown earlier in the evening. This time it was not John Harris. Kermit had checked on him personally. "I think this is it, Peter. I think he's really here this time. Trust me, Harris will probably never even eat Chinese food again, much less come to Chinatown." Peter's chuckle was slightly evil.

"I don't think I'm going to tell her, Kermit." Peter didn't want to upset her after all she'd been through recently. "We'll just keep our eyes open and..." Peter's response was cut off when the door opened and Frankie Jacobson strolled nonchalantly into the kwoon.

Everyone exploded into motion at the same time. Kermit whipped out the Desert Eagle and had it behind Frankie's left ear in a heartbeat. Peter was moving towards Frankie with murder in his eyes, and Caine was on his way across the kwoon to back up the two of them when Sarah's voice cut through all the mayhem. "NO!"

Everyone froze, Frankie because Kermit had a gun to his head and the rest of them because they had never heard Sarah's voice in quite that way before. She leapt to her feet, fire in her eyes, and charged halfway across the kwoon floor, stopping in the dead middle.

"You will all back off!" she ordered them. "Frankie has come to play with me," she informed them, "and so he shall. You," she pointed to the men, "will not interfere."

They all looked at her as if she were mad. Caine was the first to submit to her wishes, bowing to her and backing off the kwoon floor.

"Pop, what are you doing?" Peter had hoped for his father's support in this issue, not that he would agree with Sarah.

"Peter, there comes a time when the teacher must let the student take the test. There is also a time when one must slay their own dragons. Let her go," he suggested gently.

Peter looked over at Sarah. She was standing taller than he'd ever seen her, and there was no fear in her eyes. She was bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. If ever he had seen someone ready for a fight, this was it. He smacked his right fist into his left hand, bowed to her, and joined his father on the sidelines.

That left only Kermit. Sarah crossed to the kwoon;s door and jammed a small doorstop under it. No one else would enter through that door now. Then she pulled the shade on it. Kermit eyed her with new appreciation. "Kermit, do me one favor?" she asked him sweetly.

"Anything for you, Dollface, you know that. Just ask." If she had asked him to kill her ex-husband, Kermit would have dropped him on the spot. Mercenary rules.

"Frisk him first before you turn him loose. I wouldn't want him to spoil the game by pulling a gun on me," she explained.

"Oh, yeah." Kermit grabbed Frankie by the shoulders and heaved him into the wall, roughly patting him down.

"Easy, Kermit, easy," Sarah chastised him, "Save some for me."

Kermit turned Frankie loose, shoving him into the middle of the floor. "He's clean, Dollface, and he's all yours." Kermit bowed to her, and she flashed him a smile before turning to face Frankie. Her attitude changed like someone had flipped a lightswitch.

The three men gathered together on the edge of the workout area. Peter and Kermit exchanged a look that said should anything happen to Sarah, they would be all over Frankie in an instant.

Sarah began to taunt Frankie. "Well,well,well, if it isn't my dear ex-husband." She circled around him, and Frankie watched her apprehensively. This was not the Sarah he remembered, and Sarah could see it on his face. "What? You're surprised that I've changed? Frankie, did you honestly think that I wouldn't after all these years?" Sarah changed direction and circled Frankie the other way. She could see that she was already starting to unnerve him.

She stood still. "Okay, Frankie, we all know why you're here. You want to make me pay for your time in jail."

Frankie finally found his voice. "That's right, wench! You got me sent up the river and now you're gonna pay!"

Peter and Kermit both tensed on the sideline. Caine placed a reassuring hand on each of their arms.

"Oh, I don't think so, Frankie. I think this time, you're going to pay. You're going to pay for every single time you beat me." She gestured, come and get me. "Come on, Frankie, I'll even give you the first punch," she egged him on.

Frankie checked on the three men to see if they were going to honor their word. They seemed planted on the sidelines, so Frankie turned back to his ex-wife. "You always did ask for it," he snarled, ever the macho big-man, "but never quite as openly as this."

He lunged for her. Sarah jumped quickly to the side, and Frankie passed her by. She turned to maintain facing him. He swung his fist at her head. She ducked under it, slipped her foot around his ankle and pulled his foot out from under him. Frankie landed on his back. Sarah backed away from him, giving him the chance to regain his footing.

"Why didn't she finish him while she had him down?" Peter murmured.

Kermit answered him. "It's too soon." He understood the mentality behind Sarah's attack. He knew Frankie was going to wish the men had taken care of him. It would have been easier on him.

Sarah was now facing Frankie with an evil grin on her face. As he moved in towards her, she kicked him in the head. Frankie's head shot back. Sarah had recoiled her leg and used it to sidekick him in the chest.

Peter heard a snap as one of Frankie's ribs gave way. One down, four more to go, Peter thought. Frankie had broken five of Sarah's ribs the night he put her in the hospital.

Now Frankie was angry. This woman was making a fool out of him. This had to stop now. He charged her, grabbing her in a bear hug from behind, and squeezing as he lifted her up off the floor. Peter grimaced.

Frankie thought he had things under control, but he was in for a surprise. Sarah brought her heel up into Frankie's groin. Frankie hollered and released her, doubling over in pain. Sarah pivoted and kicked him square in the face. Frankie's nose began to gush blood as he fell to the floor. Sarah left him lying there and moved to circle him.

"Get up, Frankie!" she hollered at him, nudging him with her foot. "What's the matter, Frankie? Can't take it? What a wimp!" Frankie staggered to his feet. "You're pathetic, Frankie. Oh, it was fine when I was your punching bag, but you can't take it when the punching bag punches back!"

Frankie had his breath back. He flashed his arm out and caught Sarah by the hair.

Peter and Kermit both tensed. "Have faith in her," Caine said.

Frankie hauled Sarah to her knees in front of him. She had been counting on that. It had always made him feel superior when he had her kneeling at his feet. As Frankie drew back his arm to punch her in the face, Sarah drove her fist into his solar plexus, robbing him of his breath again. She bounced back onto her feet.

"Stop playing with him, Sarah," Caine ordered her. "Finish this."

Sarah's eyes flashed at Caine. "Uh, oh," Peter mumbled. He'd seen that look in her eyes before. She'd stop when she was ready, not before.

Sarah returned her attention to her ex-husband. He was running out of steam. Sarah's eyes were black with anger. She had spent most of her life in fear of this man. Well, he would know what fear was when she was through with him. She attacked. With her left foot, she snapped him in the stomach once again. As he doubled over for the last time, she followed through with her right foot, catching him in the face. He flipped sideways and landed on his stomach. He lay on the floor, unmoving.

None of them expected Sarah's next move. When she was sure Frankie wasn't going anywhere in a hurry, she flew to the wall and jerked down a ceremonial knife placed there for decoration. While it was intended for decoration, Peter knew the blade had a wicked edge. She raced back to her ex-husband and straddled his back. With her left hand, she grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. She placed the blade along his throat.

Both Peter and Kermit stepped forward, and were stopped by Caine. "Pop, she's going to kill him!" Peter protested. Kermit thought so, too, and although he would have killed Frankie for her if she'd asked, he didn't want her to have blood on her hands.

"She will not." Caine had faith that Sarah's Shaolin heart would conquer her anger.

Sarah was now whispering into Frankie's ear. The men could not hear what she was saying. Peter wasn't sure he wanted to know. She was running the blade lightly over Frankie's neck. "Turn over!" she suddenly screamed at him.

Frankie heaved himself over onto his back as she stood over him. She then knelt next to him and pressed the tip of the knife into Frankie's Adam's apple, pricking him lightly and drawing blood. He blanched. Sarah began to draw the blade down his chest. "Maybe it's not your throat I should cut, Frankie," she purred at him as she dragged the blade lower and lower. Kermit and Peter both shuddered when she dragged the knife lower still. "Are you afraid now, Frankie?"

There was no question about it. Sweat was pouring off him, and a suspicious wet spot had developed in the area where the knife was lingering. "Remember how this feels, Frankie, the next time you decide you're going to beat someone."

Sarah stood up and threw the knife to the side. She walked over to the three men. "Book him, Kermit," she instructed. Kermit moved immediately to cuff him. Sarah stood silently watching while Frankie was hauled unceremoniously to his feet. She then crossed to him and spoke directly into his face, "You're going back to jail now, Frankie." She poked him with one finger in the chest. That would add another bruise to his collection. "Next time you get out, I'll be here. Right here. In Chinatown. In this very building. Don't come back, Frankie. Next time, I'll turn them lose on you." She pointed to Kermit and Peter. "They'll teach you the real meaning of fear. You might even survive it."

"Oh, yeah," Kermit growled at Frankie. "Let's go, punk." Kermit dragged him to the door.

"Don't forget to read him his rights, Kermit," Peter called. "We wouldn't want to let him off on a technicality."

Frankie gone, Sarah melted into a puddle at her teachers' feet, sobs racking her body. Peter joined her on the floor. "Hwa-ren, don't cry. You have slain the dragon. You stood up for yourself and you gave Frankie some necessary instruction."

"But, Peter, you don't understand," she sobbed, "I wanted to kill him. I wanted to cut his throat."

"But you did not," Caine pointed out. Sarah wiped the tears from her face and looked up at her master. "You controlled the impulse, you controlled your fear, and you did not let your anger lead you down the wrong path. Peter is correct. You have slain the dragon, Nuer, and it will no longer haunt you. You have freed yourself." He put one hand out to her, one to Peter and pulled them both up off the floor. "She passed the test, did she not, my son?"

"Yeah, Pop, she sure did."

Mary Margaret put the finishing touches on Sarah's makeup. "There." She stepped back to admire her work. "Peter Caine doesn't stand a chance tonight." She gently turned Sarah to face the mirror and delighted in the surprised expression that crossed her face.

She had been busy transforming Sarah all day. The two of them had gotten their hair and nails done earlier in the afternoon. The dress Skalany had calculatingly approved was waiting in the bedroom. Peter and Caine would be by to pick them both up soon. "Now, let's get you into that dress, and everything will be set."

As Mary Margaret zipped the dress, she could feel Sarah's nervousness. "Sarah," she reassured her, "I'm telling you, you are going to knock him dead."

"Well, I don't want him dead, Mary Margaret," she teased, "I just want him to notice me."

"Oh, he'll notice you all right. In fact, knowing Peter the way I do, I'd wager you'll have to beat him off with a baseball bat before this night is over." Mary Margaret reached for a small bottle that Caine had dropped off earlier. "This is for you, Sarah. It's from Caine."

Sarah removed the glass stopper from the bottle and sniffed. The fragrance was lovely. She placed some of the perfume on her wrists and neck, then offered the bottle to Mary Margaret.

"No, somehow I think that's meant just for you. Now, Cinderella, you are ready for the ball. Let me tell you exactly how we're going to do this."

Mary Margaret opened the apartment door and greeted the two men on her doorstep. "Good evening, gentlemen, won't you come in? My, don't you two look extraordinarily handsome this evening?"

"And you are lovely beyond measure," Caine complimented her, taking her hand and kissing the palm. Mary Margaret flushed.

Peter smiled. His father was the only person he knew who could make Mary Margaret Skalany blush. He looked around for his date.

Mary Margaret chuckled to herself. Peter was in for a big surprise. "She'll be down in a minute, Peter. Finishing touches and all." She moved to the stairway and called, "Sarah? Our escorts are here." She moved herself into a position where she could watch Peter's face.

Caine caught what she was doing and joined her. He leaned to whisper in her ear, "The perfume?" Mary Margaret nodded.

The first things Peter noticed as Sarah descended the staircase were her legs. Her dress stopped at the knee and a pair of well-shaped calves were exposed below. His gaze traveled up to take in the rest of her and he couldn't believe his eyes. She was beautiful. The dress was black velvet and it clung to her form. His brain stopped registering the details. She stepped off the last stair and held her hand out to Peter. He took her hand and continued to stare.

Mary Margaret nudged Caine. "See? He's speechless."

"I believe that is a first for my son," Caine replied.

Sarah ran her hand down Peter's lapel. "It's a good thing you don't wear a tux all the time," she murmured. Her voice broke Peter from his trance. He caught her hand and kissed it, unconsciously duplicating his father's move.

"And it's a good thing you don't go around dressed like this all the time," he spoke gently around her hand, "'cause I would never be able to get anything done."

"Does that mean you approve, Peter?" Skalany asked.

"Oh, yeah, Skalany. I definitely approve." Peter offered Sarah his arm and both couples left for the ball. Peter decided nothing was going to interfere or interrupt him this night. He was going to kiss this magical creature tonight if it was the last thing he did. He chuckled. At least he would die happy.

The ball was being held at a country club just outside the city. Indian summer had set in, so the night was not uncomfortably cool. The moon was out and the drive to the club passed quickly. In Mary Margaret's car, she and Caine were celebrating their triumph in rendering Peter speechless. The Stealth was mostly quiet, both Peter and Sarah were feeling a little awkward with one another. Peter tried to lighten the mood. "Sarah, do me a favor tonight?" he requested.

"What, Peter?"

"Watch what you eat. Let's not have a repeat performance of Jody's party, huh?" Sarah giggled.

"I have no intention of being poisoned tonight, Peter." Of course, she'd had no intention of being poisoned that night either.

Sarah found that she was quite comfortable at their table. Besides the Caines, Kermit joined them. He was escorting Karen Simms who told everyone she was off-duty for the night and no one was to call her captain. Also, Jody and William were at their table. Sarah was surrounded by friendly faces who did their best to put her at ease.

Peter found that he couldn't wait to get his arms around Sarah. He leaned over and softly requested, "Dance with me?"

She looked at him, face flushed. "Peter, I don't know how to dance," she confessed.

"Nothing to it, Hwa-ren. If you can do kung fu forms, you can dance." He leaned closer to her ear and lowered his voice to a whisper, "Besides, I want to hold you in my arms." He chuckled delightedly as the flush deepened across her face. All that she had been through, yet she was such an innocent.

Peter marveled at the fact they had finally put all her pieces back together. She had changed so much since he'd first met her, yet the same sweet soul that had always been there was now free. He took her by the hand and led her to the dance floor, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close.

He nuzzled her neck and inhaled a fragrance that seemed vaguely familiar to him. "Mmm, that is great perfume." He stopped when he realized that he recognized it. "Sarah, did Pop give you this perfume?" he inquired.

"Why, yes he did." She looked at his face and wasn?t quite sure what she read there. "Don't you like it?"

Peter quickly reassured her, "I like it. It suits you." He'd discuss it with his father later.

The music ended and dinner was beginning to be served, so Peter reluctantly released Sarah and they returned to the table. Everyone was somewhat surprised when Sarah, after watching Peter take the first bite of his salad, quickly snatched his plate and traded it with her own. The surprise turned to laughter, as they understood Sarah's reasoning. "Well, maybe that's not such a good idea after all," Sarah commented, "It wouldn't do to have you poisoned, either."

It became the game for the evening. Once the servers had set the plates in front of everyone, they would pass them around until no one knew what was where, laughing the entire time. Peter marveled at Sarah's ability to bring out the child in all of them. He had laughed much more since he'd met Sarah than in all the fifteen years he'd been separated from his father put together, maybe than he ever had. The other tables nearby shook their heads at their boisterous behavior.

Sarah sat in front of the mirror in the ladies' room and marveled once again at the face that looked back at her. She could not get over the transformation Mary Margaret had created. And she was definitely pleased with Peter's reaction. She blushed at herself in the mirror.

She jumped when Jordan suddenly appeared behind her. Sarah had thought she was by herself. "Well, well, what have we here? If it isn't little Miss Sarah," Jordan scorned.

Sarah began to turn to face the woman directly when Jordan jabbed a gun in her side. "Oh, no, don't you move. We are going to have a little talk, you and I." Jordan slipped to the door and locked it. Sarah sighed. This was shaping up to be another one of those days.

Peter glanced at his watch. Sarah had been gone for too long. He sent Skalany to check on her. As he watched her saunter away, he offered up a silent plea to whomever might be listening, please, don't let this night derail on me.

Skalany was surprised to find the outer door to the ladies room was locked. She banged on it. "Sarah? Are you in there?"

Sarah eyed Jordan. "Shall I answer her?" she queried softly.

"No! You just be quiet." She moved to the door, gun still trained on Sarah. "Skalany! You get Peter here and you get him here now. And tell him no Shaolin tricks from him or his father!"

"Jordan?" Skalany's voice was laced with disbelief. "What's going on?"

"Don't ask questions, Skalany, just do it."

Peter was soon standing outside the door to the ladies room. What the hell was going on now? Kermit and his father were beside him. Kermit cast a wary glance at the door. "I told you I didn't think she was finished with you yet," he reminded Peter softly.

Peter rapped on the door. "Jordan? It's me, Peter. What's going on? Is Sarah in there with you?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Priest, your hot little girlfriend is in here with me. And I want you in here, too. No funny stuff, or I'll put a hole in this lovely velvet dress."

The lock to the door slid back. Peter looked at his father and Kermit. They both nodded their assent. Peter slid through the door. The door was bolted again behind him. Of course, locks couldn't keep out Kwai Chang Caine, but for now he was content to let his son handle things his own way.

Peter took inventory of the situation. He didn't want to spook Jordan, so he stayed near the door. Sarah was seated on a stool in the far corner of the vanity, Jordan next to her. Peter could see in the mirror the gun she held to Sarah's back. He locked eyes with her. There was no fear apparent there. "I'm sorry," she mouthed to him. He didn't dare respond in any way.

"Jordan, what's the story here?" He spread his hands to show that they were empty and took a step forward. Sarah yelped as Jordan jabbed her again with the gun. Peter froze.

"Open your jacket, Peter. I want to make sure you're not armed."

"I haven't carried since I took the brands, Jordan. You know that."

"Just do it, Peter." Peter obliged her, holding his jacket open, turning around to show her his back as well.

"Good. Now sit down and shut up."

Peter could see that Jordan was totally out of control. He didn't think this was something she had thought carefully about, it seemed spontaneous to him. A person with a gun and no plan could be a very dangerous thing.

"Jordan," Sarah's voice was soft and even. "This isnt really about Peter, is it?"

"Yes! It's all his fault!" Jordan shouted. Peter didn't like the way her gun hand was beginning to tremble.

"Jordan, look at me," Sarah commanded.

What is she up to? Peter wondered.

Jordan glared at her. Sarah gazed deeply into her eyes, not fazed by the anger Jordan was directing towards her.

"Shut up!" she snapped at her. "I don't want to hear your mouth."

Please, Peter thought, please, Sarah, be quiet. But she would not.

"Jordan, we both know this is not about Peter." She locked eyes with her, "This is about the guy who came after Peter."

Jordan flinched. "NO! It's Peter's fault." She caught her breath, the sound resembling a suppressed sob. Sarah reached out and placed a hand on her captor's knee.

"No, Jordan. It's not his fault."

The sob that finally escaped from Jordan took Peter by surprise. "Yes, it is. He didn't come. He didn't save me." Jordan now held the gun in front of Sarah, pointing it directly at her chest.

"Jordan," Peter began, but clamped his mouth shut after Sarah glared at him. He backed off, letting her take control of the situation. He resigned himself to being a spectator.

Sarah continued to stroke Jordan's knee in an almost absentminded manner. "He didn't know, Jordan. He would have saved you if he knew." Tears had begun to stream down Jordan's face. Sarah reached out and wiped them from Jordan's cheek.

"How many times, Jordan?" she inquired gently. "How many times did he beat and rape you?" Peter drew in his breath sharply. What was she talking about?

"Twice," Jordan stammered, "twice." The gun was shaking precariously between them now. The gun, Sarah, Peter tried to project to her, get the gun.

As if she had heard his thoughts, Sarah reached out and gently twisted the gun from Jordan's grasp. Jordan didn't even seem to notice; she was too busy crying. Sarah tossed the gun to Peter, but motioned that he was not to move. Things were not resolved here.

Sarah stroked Jordan's hair. "It's okay, Jordan. It's okay," she soothed.

"No. I'm a cop. I'm trained. And I let it happen not once, but twice."

Sarah looked over at Peter. Understanding was beginning to dawn in his eyes. "That doesn't matter, Jordan. They're always bigger and stronger. Sometimes, no matter how hard you fight, it happens anyway."

"I should have blown his brains out," Jordan sniffed.

"No," Sarah responded gently, "Killing him is not the answer." She ought to know. Sarah had now wrapped her arms around Jordan and was holding the sobbing woman, rocking her back and forth. She crooned comfort into Jordan's ear.

Peter was stunned by the entire situation. Here was a woman who had been holding a gun on Sarah only two minutes earlier, and now Sarah was comforting her. Pop will be proud, Peter thought.

Jordan finally cried herself out. She looked up into Sarah's face. "How did you know? I've told no one."

"I've been there myself, Jordan," she explained gently, "And I've finally come through to the other side. It took me many years to slay my dragon, and some extreme measures to get where I am today."

"How many times?"

"More times than either of us can count, Jordan. I was beaten and raped twice before my first night of marriage was over. That was only the beginning. Before that my step-father battered me." Jordan looked at Sarah with a new appreciation.

"I didn't know he had done that to you," Jordan stammered. "I.. I told him where to find you."

"I know."

Next time, read the whole file, Peter thought angrily.

"I poisoned you," Jordan confessed.

"I know."

"I just kidnapped you and held you at gunpoint."

"I know."

"So, why are you helping me?"

"Because I can."

Peter moved over to the two women and knelt before them. Pride in Sarah was shining in his eyes. Compassion for Jordan was also evident. He now understood where all her insane behavior had come from. "I'm sorry, Jordan," he apologized. "I would have helped you if I had known."

"Let them in, Peter," Sarah nodded toward the door. "There are some people out there who are really anxious to see us."

Jordan was turned over to Karen Simms, who found that she was on duty this night after all. Sarah spoke to her just before Karen and Kermit took her home. "Jordan, when you're ready, come and see me. You know where I am. I think I can help you."

Peter and Sarah slipped out the side door and into the gardens. Peter put his arm around her as they strolled in the moonlight. He guided her to a bench and they sat down.

"How did you know, Sarah?"

Sarah smiled a sad smile. "I knew, Peter, because I looked into her eyes and I saw myself. I saw the same pain I saw looking back at me from the mirror for years. But not anymore." She brushed her hand along his cheek. "I've slain the dragon, and I am free now."

"Yes, you are." He hugged her. "I am very proud of you."

Sarah was embarrassed. She turned her gaze to the autumn night sky. Thousands of twinkling stars made a canopy overhead. "Look, Peter. God's handiwork. Isn't it beautiful?"

Peter wasn't looking at the sky; he was looking at Sarah. "Yes," he agreed, "It is." He turned his gaze upward when Sarah gasped.

"Look, a shooting star!" She closed her eyes and did something she hadn't done in years. She made a wish. One couldn't hurt, she decided. When she opened her eyes, she found Peter looking at her intently.

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "May I kiss you, Hwa-ren?"

She nodded her assent, unable to trust her voice. Her heart was thudding in her chest as Peter slowly closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers.

Finally, he thought.

Maybe some wishes do come true, she thought.

Peter wrapped his arms around her and drew her closer, deepening the kiss.

When he finally released her, his questions about Shaolin hearts had been answered. He closed his eyes again and gazed upon her heart as his father had taught him. What he saw this time confirmed his suspicions. "Hwa-ren, I do believe you have the other half of my heart."

The End

Next: Shadows of the Heart

Part 1   Part 2

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