It seemed more than a lifetime ago since she had walked these streets, too long to be away from this kaleidoscope of language and drum beat pace. Jennifer had purposely parked her car a block or two away from the kwoon, or where the kwoon had once been. After a few questions, she was on her way to the new home of the resident Shaolin. She needed the few moments of feeling part of her heritage again before the battle began.

KC, on the other hand, was alive with excitement in the midst of Chinatown's activity. To his mother's shame, this was the first time for the dark-haired boy to hear the language of his ancestors. With the color and texture of the crowd and daily trade surrounding them as they walked, mother and child both began to blend with the crowd.

"OOOOOO!!! Bite!!!" KC began to bounce in his mother's arms at the sight of his favorite treat. The street vendor's bright red apples shining in the morning sunshine caught his eye.

Jennifer stopped to select a snack for her baby. Handing the elderly merchant a handful of change, she was warmed by the generous attention the man poured out onto her son. As KC nabbed a sloppy bite, the bearded old man laughed, "Who would need the sun with such a boy nearby?"

"He certainly is my sunshine, uncle," Jennifer whispered and squeezed her little boy closely to her chest.

"Do I not remember you, child?" The man inspected her with wrinkled eyes. "You are the daughter of the Sung family. You have been away too long from us." Warm greeting punctuated with an embrace, the old man offered his welcome. "And to bring such a fine son to their family. A treasure, indeed."

It hurt, deeply. Knowing that her beautiful child could be prized by a street vendor he'd just met and denied by his flesh and blood was a bitter reality with which to live. Her mother's vicious words would ring in her ears forever. Mongrel. Mongrel was the hateful word Mae Sung had used when Jennifer revealed her pregnancy. You dilute our blood with your wanton lust for the white world. You shame your family.

Smiling to dismiss the pointless torture, Jennifer caught a glimpse of a familiar long-legged form moving out of a building down the street.

Peter. She'd know that body blindfolded.

Mind shifting into high gear, Jennifer turned to the kindly vendor she remembered from childhood. "Uncle, could you watch my little man for a few minutes while I follow the priest?"

Holding out his arms, the man happily accepted the child and Jennifer raced down the street. "Peter!"

At the sound of his name, the young priest turned. She was moving toward him and waving for him to stop. Not this time, he thought. Three strikes and the love life is out. He turned and continued on his way, but at a decidedly slower pace.

"Peter! Wait, damn it!" Jennifer fairly shrieked as she ran after him. "I want you to meet someone!"

"The other man in your life?" Peter said over his shoulder, long legs striding through the streets of Chinatown. "No, thanks. I hope you two will be very happy together."

"PETER! If you've ever loved me, STOP!!!"

Peter Caine stopped dead in his tracks, not unlike a freight train crashing into a mountain. As unfair as the tactic was, it worked. Jennifer caught up to him, panting. "You are behaving like a child," she chided him, gasping for breath. "Walking away from your past and your problems?"

Peter caught a sharp breath. That one hit home. "You're right," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

She lowered her eyes. "I'm almost surprised you stopped."

"Jennifer." Peter took her hand. "Okay, sometimes my temper gets the best of me and sends me into directions I didn't expect. Like last night," he dropped his eyes to her hand in his. "But, Jen, that doesn't change my feelings. I have always cared for you. I care very much."

"I seem to get under your skin, priest." His touch was as intoxicating as ever. She gently ran her hand up his forearm to trace the tiger.

"We have always been less than calm in concert, Ms. Sung." Her cool hand on his arm sang to him.

Jennifer bit her lip. Now was the time. For KC's sake, she forced the words out. "Peter, please," she said, pulling his hand. "Come with me. I want you to meet the man in my life. Trust me."

Trust. Now there was a concept Peter had trouble with, but staring into this woman's dark eyes, he felt he could trust her. He took the first step forward and then another. See? his mind berated him. It doesn't hurt a bit. Trust her. Try it. You might like it.

She walked slowly back through the vendors of Chinatown, dodging the people and obstructions until she came to a busy fruit stand tended by an elderly merchant. The wizened old man was playing games with a little boy. The baby was maybe a year old or so old. An infectious, easy grin was spread over the boy's face as he giggled his delight. Jennifer wasn't related to the old man. Peter began to run through options. Perhaps this was a relative of her "new man."

Jennifer called out, "KC."

The little boy turned instantly. "Ma-ma-ma-ma!" He launched himself at her and Jennifer caught him, both laughing as she hoisted him to her hip. He plastered a wet kiss on her cheek. Peter grinned involuntarily at the affection though the facts were still not computing.

Jennifer bailed him out. Nodding thanks to the old man, she moved them all away from the bustle of the commerce and into the anonymous crowd.

"Peter-"

"I understand," Peter said, holding up his hand. "You're involved now. Congratulations. I wish you all the best. And your son, too...whoa...." He ran a hand through his hair in amazement, speechless.

"Our."

"What?"

Turning her son to face his father, Jennifer clarified. "OUR son. Kwai Chang."

All vision blurred around the face of innocence before him. Dark silken hair like his mother's. Eyes not quite as dark, not quite as almond shaped. Sparkling with joy for life. In a moment of pure exploration, the child stared back at him. In a friendly gesture, KC offered Peter the unused portion of his apple, then performed a certain motion to firmly mark him as the next in the line of Caine.

KC smiled and cocked his head slightly to the side, the image of his grandfather.

*****

The words were still ringing in his mind. Our son. He hadn't misunderstood. Our son. That was what Jennifer had just said in the middle of the street as she stood there holding a bright, smiling baby boy. Our son.

Peter Caine forced himself to breathe through the revelation. "Our? As in, our son? My son? This is my son?"

Peter's babbling, coupled with the tension of the moment, forced out a gush of laughter. "Yes, to all of the above." Jennifer stared as the dazed man accepted her son's apple.

"Um...this isn't a good place to talk," Peter managed. "Let's go home. I mean, to my home."

He couldn't take his eyes off of the child, his child. Instantly, Peter thought of his own father. Kwai Chang Caine had been away for months; first in France to disprove the outlandish claim that Laura Caine was alive, then in China for reasons not shared with his son. Father. Peter found it difficult to think of that word in terms of himself. Father was Kwai Chang Caine. Father was Paul Blaisdell. Father was even Kermit Griffin. Not Peter Caine.

Taking her hand, Peter led Jennifer and her son, their son, through the streets toward his apartment. Trying to absorb the information as they progressed, his mind swam with possibility and confusion.

My son. The thought was at once frightening and wonderful.

Quickly, they traveled toward their destination. Shortcuts were the easiest way to navigate the map of Chinatown and Peter knew them all without thinking. With mechanical precision, Peter moved them closer to his home. His feet moved on their own as his eyes and mind were drawn to the smiling baby in Jennifer's arms.

Slowly, the alleyways of Chinatown swam back into his vision as four figures molded around them, quickly blocking their passage. "Lookit' the new priest on the block," one tough snarled with a malevolent grin. "Doesn't look too tough to me." All four were young and fit the standard youthful hoodlum profile, swaggering and snarling with anger and ego, longing for a fight.

"He's got real good taste in women," the other leered, pawing at Jennifer, who jerked away, still holding KC protectively.

In days past, Peter Caine's gun would already be in his hand. Those days were no more. Instinct called, but he no longer lived on violent instinct. His path no longer welcomed that particular solution. Peter stepped in front of Jennifer and KC, urging them with his body to step to the side, moving them closer to the wall and behind him.

"You want to challenge me?" he said softly.

Jennifer began to back away as Peter stood firm. Grabbing the back of Peter's denim shirt, she tried to pull him with her, to defuse the situation. "Let's go, Peter."

"Where ya' goin'?" said another young man moving in behind them.

Jerking herself back into contact with Peter's body, Jennifer felt his arm fold backward around her, around KC. With the baby sandwiched between them, they both became his shelter.

"I'm callin' you out, priest!" The boys grinned happily at each other as one of them moved forward.

Peter's body was relaxed, not aggressive or passive, as he faced the threat. Over his shoulder, he spoke to Jennifer in a voice loud enough for the boys to hear. "Every week it's the same thing -- the OK Corral. You'd think the word would have gotten around by now."

The sarcasm sent a chill through Jennifer's body. This new and improved Peter Caine still had the same smart mouth. He winked at her, a gesture she was certain he meant as comfort.

Jennifer felt her stomach twist in remembrance...

~~~~~~

Walking in the moonlight had become a comfortable habit for Jennifer and Peter. In the two weeks since her return, they had been together every night. His arm looped gently around her waist, fingers sliding into her pocket.

"So, now that I've fed you, Ms. Sung, I suppose you'd like to be entertained," Peter said, looking straight ahead and smiling broadly.

"That would be the polite thing to do, Caine, after we walk off the pasta overload." Jennifer hugged him more closely to her body, stepping along in rhythm with his long strides. The limp Peter had been struggling with when she came to his apartment two weeks ago was rapidly disappearing. He didn't seem to want to talk about the accident or the department. This was fine with Jennifer. She didn't want to discuss her particular demons with him, either. The days had been spent laughing and talking about anything other than trouble. The nights had been spent tangled together in bed.

She loved him and had told him so. He loved her and had told her so. It was all so simple.

"Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit?"

Jennifer realized she hadn't been listening. "What?"

"Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit? Those are the only games I have unless you'd like to try Twister." They had reached Peter's bright blue Stealth and he eased his keys from his pocket.

"Make it Naked Twister and you're on," Jennifer said, stealing a kiss as he opened her car door.

"I knew there was a reason I'd fallen in love with you," he said, leaning into Jennifer's body and moving his lips to her ear. "I do love you."

The November air swirled around them, defied by an emotional heat. They stood on the sidewalk, arms and lips meeting in a brazen public display of affection. Her mother's harsh words meant nothing anymore. Any conflicts between the world of career and background could be overcome.

Pulling herself upward to whisper into his ear, Jennifer said, "I love you, too."

In the space of seconds, the romance was drained away and replaced by fear. Four men, dressed in black stood behind Peter's back. Their faces were covered, making them all the more terrifying. The men stood in silence as an icy breezed waved around them.

"Peter!" Jennifer gasped, the half breath stealing much of her volume. Jerking away from his embrace, she turned Peter around to face the men.

Peter stood firm, facing the men. "Nice jammies."

Jennifer grabbed the back of his shirt as he began to move forward. "Get in the car," she whispered in a desperate voice. The fabric of his shirt was melting out of her grasp.

"Get in and lock the door," he said, moving forward, away from her and toward the rigid line of men before him.

"What is this, Peter?" All the warmth of before bled away in the cold terror of this moment. Pulling her cell phone from her purse, Jennifer began to dial. "I'm calling 911 so you guys might as well hit the road!" Her voice trembled in spite of the bravado.

Peter was still moving toward them, his body stretching out in long, firm lines.

"Don't." He spoke the word with an air of command, not request.

In the space of one breath, they were all moving. Black clad arms and legs moved in a blur, striking out at Peter. He fought back with a calm missing when he and Jennifer had battled the Pai Gow players. The precision was brutal.

She dialed.

One hard leather boot connected with Peter's jaw, sending a spray of blood onto the sidewalk. Peter remained on his feet, spinning with the force of the blow. His arm shot out into the force of men, landing in the center of ones chest. Air rushed from the man's lungs along with a sickening crack. The wounded man fell to his knees, unmoving.

The call wasn't going through. She dialed again.

The men circled around Peter, both landing and dodging blows. The pace of their battle was terrifying. The sounds, even more so.

The call still refused to connect. The fear and fury gripped Jennifer's mind and she sent the useless phone sailing to the floor of the Stealth.

Peter kicked an exposed kneecap, sending another man to the sidelines.

"HELP! Somebody help!!!" Jennifer began to scream. The street was deserted. She ran down the sidewalk, looking for anyone who could stop this nightmare.

Another guttural scream cut through the air behind her. She turned quickly, heart settling inside her throat. Peter was out numbered, still recuperating. These men wanted to hurt him, hurt him permanently. The sheer weight of the fear made her dizzy. Before when she had watched him battle strangers in her defense, the feelings had been different. The fear had been surrounded by an odd exhileration, a thrill. Even in the life and death struggle, the excitement had been unmistakeable.

Now, things were different. This wasn't some good looking cop coming to her defense. This wasn't some stranger. This was the man she loved. There was no thrill this time.

"PETER!" The scream sliced the frigid air between them as she raced back to him. The men were gone. Peter was stubbornly getting to his knees. When she reached his side, he was nearly on his feet.

"God, Peter," Jennifer said, swallowing her panic, "who were they? What did they want?" She touched his cheek and the growing purple stain painted there only to have her hand brushed away.

"It doesn't matter." He got to his feet and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

The hard edge to his words both frightened and angered her. "What the hell do you mean, 'it doesn't matter'?! Four men just tried to beat the shit out of your in some twisted version of a ninja movie and you say it doesn't matter? Are you crazy?"

"It's been rumored." He stepped away from her and stooped to retrieve his car keys from the pavement.

The shock silenced her. His demeanor, his tone, shut her down completely. No explanations were offered, nor would they be.

"You don't plan to report this, do you?" Jennifer leaned herself against his wall of silence, begging to be let inside. All the openness of the past days, all the sharing, was being shredded. The fantasy was dying. Everything she didn't know about Peter was piling up in front of her.

"What's to report? Just an unsuccessful mugging. Forget about it."

Jennifer watched him get into the car as the open door gaped in front of her. Why hadn't he pulled his gun? That very omission labeled this as something other than a random crime. There was a purpose for this conflict and her lover was keeping it a secret. He could have walked away and refused.

"Please, Jennifer," Peter, was staring straight out into the night, seeing nothing, "just forget it and get in. This is part of my life."

"Maybe it's a part you should walk away from, Peter. If this is what your life is like after only going part of the way with this priest business, then--"

Peter turned, his eyes filled with a profound sadness she had never before seen. Once, he opened his lips, only to shut them tightly over whatever he had prepared to say.

Jennifer watched for a few seconds, hoping for his voice to sing out and explain, hoping for some word to clear the dangerous mist that had blown into their lives.

No words came.

Jennifer got into the car and remained silent.

*****

"Take your best shot, man." The lead thug was stepping forward, preparing for battle.

Peter shook his head. "You don't want to challenge me," he told them. "You want to challenge yourself."

"I want to kick your ass!" The boy stripped off his jacket and tossed it to one of his friends.

"You should know by now, since someone pulls this routine with me once a week, that the choice is mine. I can fight you and send you home with your tail between your legs, or not. I decide, not you. You want to prove you're big by taking on the new King of the Mountain. Well, guys, you're going to grow up because I'm not going to help you. I'm not fighting you."

"Oh yeah?" The boy nodded to the late arrival, poised to make a grab toward Jennifer. "You won't even fight over your bitch? Not cool, man."

Peter was in the way again, intercepting the boy's hand. His grip closed tightly, driving the boy to his knees. With a sharp push, he sent the red faced thug to the pavement. "I will protect them. I will defend myself. But I won't give you what you want."

"Bullshit!" The cry came with an outstretched, gleaming knife being swung by one of the other boys.

Then the weapon went flying the other direction as Peter casually took the knife away and tossed it aside, once more obstructing their path to Jennifer and the baby. "Let me show you," he suggested. "I can teach you how to find challenges in yourself without useless bullying on helpless victims. What kind of a challenge is that? Frightening women and children? Not cool."

The larger of the group made a lung forward. Throwing a solid punch toward the priest's jaw. With the grace of the crane, an arm deflected the unskilled attack and the boy was sent spinning to the other side of the alley.

Peter leaned closer to the young men who remained standing. "Let me show you a REAL challenge. Honor. Respect. That's a hard road to walk. Anybody here up to it?" Peter shook his head. "Too bad. You know, you could own the world if you knew how. If you accept." He casually put an arm around Jennifer and KC to lead them through the spellbound thugs. "Anybody who thinks they can take it is welcome in my home. I'll teach anyone who asks."

"What's the catch, man?" one of them blurted out despite himself.

"The catch is, you have to ASK," Peter told him gently. "You have to know you need something - admit that something is missing from your life - and have the dignity and guts to ask for help." Peter winked. "The good news is that I'm available twenty-four seven. I'll be there when you're ready."

Jennifer stared at the stranger next to her as he walked her down the alleyway without a second glance. "Do you think they'll do it?" she finally managed to ask.

"I don't know," Peter answered, a bit of melancholy in his voice. "I hope so."

"So this is what you do now?"

"Yep. This is what I am and this is what I do." The half smile on his face was mingled with a new peace.

Jennifer decided that she was officially impressed.

****

Jennifer had only been to Caine's home once. Now that Peter was the tenant, the place had taken on a slightly less primitive decor. Still elegant in its clean line and form, the place was now sporting a few more amenities.

Jennifer followed Peter up the stairs to the loft apartment. The room was bright and open. A large workroom/kitchen that included a microwave beside a classic porcelain teapot was off to the right. The living area contained a fat, three-cushion sofa and Peter's throne from years past, an old recliner held together with duct tape. There was also a television and stereo intermingled with a hundred different plants.

Encased once more in a stunned silence, Peter sat down on one end of the sofa and Jennifer, the other. KC, on the other hand, began his floor show. Bending over to rest his little head on the rug in the center of the room, the toddler struggled to flip himself over. "Uhuhuh..." he grunted, making an awkward attempt at a somersault. His only success was in tumbling over sideways with a thud.

"Here, little guy. Let me help." Sinking to the floor, Peter held the round little body as it once again bent over. Gently flipping him end over end, Peter drank in the flood of giggling that was the result. God, he's beautiful. Peter stared, taking in every inch of the child before him.

KC righted himself and, in a humorous touch of formality, tugged down his Disneyland t-shirt. Then, remembering another part of his performance, the bright little boy yanked up his shirt once again. Pointing to his middle, he jabbered, "Seeeee?! Beeeeebutt'n!"

In a cool rain of laughter, Peter Caine dropped his veil of disbelief. "I see it all right!" Grabbing the little boy under both arms, he pulled him to his chest and was immediately assaulted by the brilliant essence of his own child. A power unleashed that he had never expected. KC, in the openness of childhood, welcomed the affection and hugged in return.

Rocking the wiggling body slowly back and forth in the morning light, Peter Caine had all the confirmation he needed. This was his son. There was no room for doubt. Stroking the soft head resting on his chest, Peter allowed himself the luxury of a tear.

So this is what it feels like? In a few moments, the full rush of fatherhood had flooded him. This tiny boy. His son. Full of life and innocence and trust. Pop... In the midst of the powerful emotion that encircled him, he suddenly understood. This is what you feel......unbelievable. As the love of the child ensnared Peter Caine, he felt the love for his father multiply as well.

Jennifer remained silent as she watched the stages unfold before her on the sun-littered floor. Exploration, acceptance, bonding. She was moved, but not surprised. Jennifer knew that Peter would fall instantly in love with his son. Peter loving his son wasn't the problem.

"He's a wonderful little boy, Peter. Bright and funny and adventurous and--"

"I can see that." The reply was issued with a soft tone but without the warmth he was directing at the little boy now using him for a set of monkey bars. "What I don't see is how you could keep him from me. Do you really despise me so much that you could deny me my own child? This your family's idea?"

Stiffening her posture in defense, Jennifer replied coolly. "My decisions are my own. The Sungs want nothing to do with us. They've never seen KC."

In an incongruous sing-song rhythm, Peter camouflaged his anger at the sheer bigotry of the Sung clan. "That same old half-breed problem rearing its ugly head, again?" He'd run into it head on but to have them focus their narrow-minded hatred on this child was something else. "That still doesn't answer my question."

"I was afraid, Peter."

Rolling the child back to the floor, but still keeping a hand on him, Peter answered with a less than conciliatory tone. "That's ridiculous. Why would you be afraid of me? YOU left ME, remember?"

With open hands, she tried to explain -- though the explanation was even wearing thin in her own mind. "I was afraid of your life, Peter. The shoot-first, dive-into-violence life you have...or had. You took too many chances. Risked your life so indiscriminately, that I was terrified to inflict that on a child or on MYSELF!"

"So, because I was a cop, you decided I wasn't decent parental material?" The anger he fought to control daily bubbled once again.

"Because you are PETER CAINE, that's why!" Jennifer leapt from her seat to tower over the priest, who was still seated on the floor. "The Peter Caine who fights invisible demons and blasts his way into gun fights. The Peter Caine who is so freakin' omnipotent that he doesn't need back up. The Peter Caine with enemies so mystic they wouldn't be believable on the 'X-Files'!"

Rising to assume the higher ground in the argument, Peter countered, "As I recall, ma'am, the bad guys were after YOU when we first met. Remember?" Glaring down through hurt and betrayal, he bellowed, "Number one, when I was a cop, I did what was necessary to protect the people entrusted to me. Number two, I'm not a cop anymore. If you'd cared to give me a chance, you'd know that. Instead, you take my son across the country and lie to both of us. Nice, Jennifer."

"How dare you judge me for being afraid of this insane life you have, Peter! I did what was best for KC, dammit!"

"You did what was best for you!" The two faced off. Caught up in the selfish fury of their own hurt.

"Knock, knock? "Savannah stood just inside the room, lightly tapping on the side of the wall. Both she and Kat wore expressions of embarrassed astonishment at the battle of wills being waged before them.

The brittle sparks between the two parents began to fade in the presence of witnesses.

"EEEEE!!!" KC fixed his eyes on Kat and wobbled over to pull on her hand.

"Hi, little fellow," Kat gushed, patting the dark head as if she were a mother herself. "You sooooo cute!"

Savannah could see the powerful work that the couple needed to do that day. Painful territory like that should never be crossed with a child in tow. "Uh....why don't you come with us to the park, KC?" Scooping up the little boy, she turned to Jennifer, "You know, the one across from Sunnyside."

Jennifer was relieved to have an out for KC. This was no place for him at the moment. She nodded and returned her gaze to Peter.

Peter cast a look of longing and sadness toward the child, his child, in Savannah's arms. He knew she was right. Even so, the thought of the boy being out of his sight for a minute was painful. Walking over to them, he planted a warm kiss on KC's pudgy cheek. "See you later, sport."

Savannah felt a tear bubble at the expression on his face. All was revealed and Peter Caine had a son. "He'll be fine with us, Peter. Won't he Kat?" Kat nodded up at them and tickled the baby's leg. Looking from Peter to Jennifer and back, Savannah added, "Who ever is left standing can join us later to feed the ducks."

Savannah and company departed for the street, leaving the couple naked in their hurt and anger and confusion.

Peter grabbed hold of the incredible emotions churning within him as he strode to the window to watch KC as Savannah exited the building and made her way to her car. Peter watched KC's dimpled hand brush the woman's cheek as she strapped him into the car. Savannah tickled the boy in response and he giggled. Turning back to KC's mother, he realized that he must make peace with her. Gently, he reached out to her, both with his arms and his soul.

He felt her fear as tangible as if it was his own. Hers was a fear of the unknown, fear of loss or abandonment. Peter couldn't help but smile wryly. That was a fear they both shared. Peter had learned how to embrace and let go and, in a sense, Jennifer was a lot like him. Coming into his life for brief visitations, she touched intensely and then ran from it just like a child playing with fire. Peter smiled again - the analogy was apt. He could understand her fears a little better now.

A soft hand took his own, shaking him from his exploration. "You're a million miles away, Peter."

"No, I'm right here," Peter assured her. "Just reining in my thoughts. Jennifer...Jen, this is a lot to get used to."

"I know, Peter. Oh, God, I'm so sorry for keeping the secret so long." Jennifer blurted out the apology, then began to pace. "There was a long time when I thought I'd just have an abortion and then an even longer time when I thought I could just put him up for adoption. But once I saw him, held him, I couldn't. To my family, I no longer existed... they despise both of us...He's my whole world, Peter..."

She was starting to cry now. "We must move forward as we look to the past," Peter said as he walked to her and pulled her gently to him. As she melted into his caring embrace, he marveled at how their bodies blended together. They had made a child together, after all, but this was a different sensation. It was the blending of not only the flesh, but of emotions and souls. Caring, understanding and concern coursed between them as Peter gently wiped her tears away, feeling her pain, and kissed her softly. She returned the kiss and rested in his arms.

"Did the old monks teach you to talk like that?" She hugged him closer.

"Yeah, Cryptic 101." He enjoyed the feel of her leaning on him. "Okay, Jen," he said quietly, "It's over and done with. I know, now. That's what is important. So, how do things stand with you? What do we do now?"

Jennifer withdrew reluctantly from his arms to look at him. 'Do you love him?' was echoing in her mind. But does he love me? She studied the priest. She couldn't tell. The emotional overload threatened steal her balance. "I don't know," she laughed a little in defense. "I hadn't gotten past this point in any of my rehearsals."

Peter remembered the view from her picture window last night and frowned. "Are you seeing someone?"

"No. I was just being mean."

"But then who? I saw shadows in your window. I assumed..."

Puzzling for a moment, she thought back to last night. With the suddenly humorous misunderstanding made clear, she shouted, "Oh!" She laughed again. "That was KC standing on the table!"

Peter grinned, relieved, and began to chuckle himself. It felt good. "Jennifer, will you-?"

"STOP!"

Peter looked at her in astonishment. Jennifer was shaking her head. "Don't...don't say it," she pleaded. "You can see KC all you want. I don't want you to feel obligated to do anything. What you build with KC is completely separate from me. We don't have to come as a set." Turning away from him, she began to pace. "I have a job here in town that I love and we're just a few minutes away."

Peter could read the pride she felt without her words. She'd always wanted to get in on the ground floor of a publication and make it her baby. "Is that why you came back here?"

"Partly," she confessed, "but it's been on my mind since KC was born. Fate just slapped me in the face to let me know it was time." She hoped he would be happy that she was here. But what if she was wrong? "If it's too uncomfortable for you, I could just go back to Chicago. I don't want you to feel like we're intruding on your life."

"No! You can't do that!" Peter caught himself, fighting an instant panic. "My son could never be an intrusion. You could never be an intrusion. I want to help raise him, to be his father. I'd like to be...I NEED to be a part in your lives. Please."

The plural tense wasn't lost on Jennifer. Your lives. Breathing a sigh of relief, she answered, "You're his father. He needs to have you in his life. If you want to work out some kind of legal visitation agreement, that's fine but you can be with him anytime you want."

"No need to drag a lawyer into it," he smiled down on her detailed mentality. "I trust you."

"Why should you?"

"Because you're the mother of my child and you brought him back to me." Hugging her tightly, he whispered, "That's why."

She felt warm in his arms. She was stroking his back, resting her head just under his chin. Before his body took control of his senses, he pulled back and tugged her hand toward the door. "I think we have a few ducks waiting for lunch."

Holding hands like elementary school sweethearts, they walked down the dark stairs and to the street.

"I have one more question for you, Jen," Peter asked as he opened the car door for her.

"Anything you want to know, just ask."

"Why the name? Why Kwai Chang?"

"Because I couldn't deny him his heritage." Locking eyes with the father of her child, she gave a slight grin and shook her head. "And, Peter, he is YOUR son, through and through. A walking tornado!"

"Oh boy..." Peter closed the door and they went in search of their son.

*****

Peter Caine dropped down heavily on Savannah's blanket. The park was filled with families enjoying the warm Saturday morning. Jennifer smiled and waved a greeting, passing by the blanket and heading toward the sandbox where Kat and KC were happily flinging sand.

For a few moments, Peter simply stared as Jennifer perched on the side of the sandbox and tried to brush sand out of two dark heads. After a couple of pointless swipes, she looked back over at Peter and Savannah and shook her head.

The silence stretched out for a delicious span of anticipation as Peter let Savannah curiosity stew. Before she exploded, Peter spoke.

"Okay, here's where we stand. KC is my child."

"Peter," Savannah fairly exhaled the words in relief, "I didn't know about the two of you until last night. If Jennifer hadn't told you I would have."

Smiling, Peter held up his hand to silence her babbling response. "I know you didn't know about us. It's okay. In fact, I'm glad you and your meddling finally netted something besides an uncomfortable blind date for me."

Savannah blushed in silent embarrassment. "Okay, so are you two...you know...getting...?"

"I tried. She wouldn't let me ask. But, we're that little boy's parents and we're going to raise our son together. Not everyone has to be married to be good parents." The entire time he was talking, Peter couldn't take his eyes off the sandbox where KC was taking his turn filling a bucket with sand and dumping it over Kat's legs. "He's amazing, isn't he?"

"That he is, sugar," Savannah agreed, giving her friend's hand a tight squeeze. "I think you've got yourself a winner. Just as happy and sweet as he can be. Kat seems to have taken him under her wing. In just a few seconds they were able to terrify every duck on this side of the pond AND stake their claim to the sandbox. Quite a team."

"Mama!" Kat came running up to the blanket, scattering sand in her wake. "Miss Jenn'fer said she'd take me and KC for ice cream. 'Kay?" Pulling off her tennis shoe to pour out the sand, Kat said, "Hey, Uncle Peter."

"Hey, Tadpole," Peter said, jerking his leg back just in time to avoid a rain of sand from the little girl's Keds. "Are you and KC having a good time?"

"Oh yeah! He's fun. Just don't like to be kissed a lot." Kat slid her shoe back onto her foot then took off running toward her playmate.

"Kissed?" Peter raised a comical eyebrow at Savannah.

"Well, those little cheeks are irresistible. He tolerated her smooches for a while then dumped sand on her head."

"Not exactly Casanova, is he?" Peter couldn't remove the smile from his face as Jennifer and the children disappeared over the grassy hill.

"I'm so happy for you, Peter. He's a wonderful boy. You'll be an excellent father. And Jennifer...she's wonderful, too." Her enthusiasm was gaining speed as it rolled down the tracks full throttle.

"Stop right there," Peter held up his hands to derail the powerful matchmaking train of Savannah Griffin. "The things that drove Jennifer away are still in my life, Savannah. That hasn't changed. I don't think she wants to be part of it. She's not sure she wants KC to be part of it or she wouldn't have kept him from me for so long."

"But she's here, now. They're here. Jennifer couldn't keep the secret from you and knew in her heart it wasn't right." Savannah squeezed his hand tightly and said, "Give her some time. Maybe she'll be able to reconcile the trade off between completely predictable security and real life."

"Like you have?" Peter noticed that she didn't let go of his hand. Her grip even tightened slightly. "Once you knew everything about Kermit and his life, you were able to accept it." Peter's words hit the top of her head as she stared down at their hands.

"Maybe knowing everything isn't the key to this. There are probably some things that should stay secret."

The conversation wasn't about the new Caine family anymore. Peter slipped his thoughts away from a little boy about to eat ice cream. "My thought would be that truth makes for a much cleaner air to breathe." When she remained silent, Peter lifted up her hand and held it tightly. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

Savannah looked up into his eyes, her turmoil misted through a deep emerald green. Her lips parted, then closed over whatever thought she had considered. "No, not really. All I meant was that you can't let anything that happened in the past hurt what you have now, that's all. Keeping your family together is all that matters."

"Sounds to me like you have some questions that need answers. I also hear some fear in your voice. Are you afraid of those answers or of asking the questions."

"I said there was nothing to talk about."

"You sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure," she said quickly. A bright smile replaced Savannah's troubled expression. "Looks like they're back." Savannah jumped up from the blanket and headed over to meet Jennifer and the children.

Peter watched her go, filing the end of their discussion for future reference.

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