"Mind if we come in?" Kermit called from the doorway into an unusually disorganized workroom. Over the past year, Peter had developed a somewhat annoying penchant for order. It was rare to find things so out of place.

Several days had passed since the dinner party explosion and revelations. Immediate meddling was more Savannah's style. Kermit had waited a few days to let Peter get a grip on his life before he showed up to offer his congratulations. From Savannah's play-by-play report from thier day at the park, things were moving along nicely.

Holding on to Kat's hand, Kermit walked into the room where Peter and the Ancient were working.

"Hi, guys," Peter called, quickly dusting the crackled sprigs of freshly ground herbs from his hands. "Just in time to be a guinea pig."

With a twisted grin, Kermit examined the ingredients and implements of the apothecary profession scattered over the work table. Nodding to the Ancient, he asked, "Can't you teach him how to make a cure that isn't worse than the ailment?"

"It is my belief," a wicked half-smile graced the Ancient's lined features, "that all things are possible...in time."

"Hey, Tadpole," Peter said, rolling a disgusted look at his teacher, "you don't think everything Uncle Peter makes tastes bad, do you?"

Kat remained rooted to a spot behind her father's leg. Her little face didn't bubble with the normal super-charged excitement.

Dropping down to a crouch, Peter opened his arms. "No hug for me today?" As he watched her amble quietly over, then accepted a quick squeeze on his arm, Peter opened himself to the troubled feelings emanating from the preschooler. The emotions of children were cut and dried to read. She was sad, as if she had just lost something precious.

He looked up at Kermit, who greeted him with a mirror of his own confusion. The police detective shrugged his lack of insight into Kat's behavior.

"That's all I get?" Peter tapped his knee, inviting her into his lap.

"Mama says you got lil' boy now," she said in a whisper, inspecting the toe of her shoe. "Not my lap na' more."

Now, it was clear. Without asking, he scooped up the little girl and went over to the sofa. "Well, yes, Tadpole, I do have a little boy now. But that doesn't mean that I don't have lap room for my special girl." He gave her a warm squeeze and felt her relax, slightly. "After all," he pulled her tiny chin up with one finger, "you're the only other little kid I know and you've helped me learn what to do about kid stuff. We're going to have lots of fun, you and me and KC."

The dark cloud that had hung over her began to dissipate. "He's weal sweet, Uncle Peter!"

Peter cuddled her closer. "He certainly is and I love him very much. But that doesn't mean I don't love you just like always."

"Promeeesss?!"

"Cross my heart." The priest crossed his chest and shared her relief.

Kermit shook his head at the turmoil that had completely passed him by. Kat had been quiet but he had missed it. It was becoming apparent that his personality was more present in his daughter than he had realized. Brooding. A new twist on toddler behavior. Kermit sat down beside the pair and reached down to tie Kat's loose shoestrings into a bow. "How is that going, Pete?"

Puzzled for a moment, shifting gears between the little girl now happily squeezing his neck, and her father, Peter then replied, "Oh, great so far. We all have some adjustments to make."

"Some of those adjustments can be rough." Kermit smiled as the Ancient eased his way over to Peter and Kat.

"Dear Katherine," he crooned, in his most persuasive manner, "I am feeling quite lonely today. Would you please take a walk with me and share a hug with your very old friend?"

"I t'ink he needs hugs, too!" Kat shouted, and abandoned her adopted uncle for and the soft wrinkled hand held out to her. "'Mon, Mr. Lucy!"

Kermit couldn't help but laugh as the Ancient led Kat out of the room, listening to her renewed excited babble and promising her ice cream. "Women...they even start off moody."

"You can say that again." Peter's smile faded.

"So where is the little tiger?" Kermit asked, looking around the room at the various toys scattered over the floor. "I'm anxious to see what a Peter Caine offspring looks like."

"He was here yesterday afternoon and last night. Jennifer picked him up this morning." A slight smile crossed his lips. Those hours had been the most glorious of his life. They had been common moments for most fathers but an adventure for Peter Caine. Learning what a baby boy liked to eat for dinner, giving him a bath, holding him until he fell asleep and being awakened by the warm touch of his son in the morning were all amazing firsts.

"Must have been hard to let him go." Kermit watched Peter's pride and turmoil. The struggle was obvious. "Are you and Jennifer coming to some formal arrangement?"

"The custody is informal. I think we can work that out between us. Jennifer and I are supposed to have dinner together tomorrow night to work out the schedule." Peter ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Jennifer works long hours. KC goes to nursery school a few days a week. It makes sense that he should be with me when Jennifer is working and he isn't at school."

"That explains you and the kid. What about you and his mother?" Kermit watched the nervousness grow in Peter's body. If it weren't such a difficult situation, it would have been funny to see. Kermit moved his shades an inch down his nose and raised an eyebrow. "Dinner?"

"I already asked her to marry me and she said no. I think that pretty much closes that door." Peter got up and began to gather KC's toys and dump them into a basket. "She was afraid of my life as a cop and my life as Shaolin isn't much safer. I can't blame her."

"So, meet her half way. Maybe you can't do much about what comes at you, Pete, but you can show her that you're different." Kermit pulled a red ball from behind his back and tossed it into the basket. After a few moments of silence, he added, "I'm not taking any more missions."

The words hung in the air, crackling around the room with their shocking content. Peter stopped what he was doing and looked at the man in black on his sofa. Kermit Griffin could have sprouted a horn and been more in character. "What?"

"You heard me. No more missions, for anybody. I'm a cop. That's enough." Kermit got up and took the basket from Peter's hand and began to gather the toys himself. "This last time...well, I'm not risking my family anymore. I'm not hurting my wife with this cloak and dagger bullshit anymore." He held up a Dalmatian Beanie Baby and grinned, "This is what matters, Peter. My kid and yours. This is who I am. I'm not being the hired gun no matter what the cause." Kermit made rare physical contact with his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're different than you were when Jennifer knew you last, Peter. I've seen you draw your gun and dive head first into situations that should have netted you either a pine box or a straight jacket. Now, you're different. I'm different. The thrill of battle, the rush, isn't worth the cost, is it?"

Peter could only sit in stunned silence. Something had definitely changed in Kermit Griffin's mindset. They had never discussed Kermit's final mission to take down Latrodect, not in detail. Something had changed inside his friend. Perhaps that something was what Peter saw in Savannah's eyes at the park.

"What happened when you went after Latrodect?"

"Nothing. Everything." The words clamped down over Kermit's unusual offering of openness. "It doesn't matter. What matters is I won't build more secrets in my life...for any cause."

"Maybe you should clear away a few secrets still hanging around." Peter took the basket of toys and felt Kermit's hand leave his shoulder.

"Maybe you should stock up on diapers, kid." Kermit snapped his barriers back into place. "If you and Jennifer need a place for the kid when you meet tomorrow, send him over to us. I'd like to get to know the little guy."

Peter knew when to let go. "Sure, thanks."

The sound of a door opening downstairs and one lilting child's voice drew Kermit's attention. "Congratulations, kid. You'll make a great father." With that, he turned and went to his daughter.

*******

"Where are they?" Kermit growled the words as he crawled around the corner of the sofa. "I want to taste some little children!"

"Go 'way, MONSTER!" Kat squealed and bounced up and down on the cushions.

"EEEEEE!" KC held on to the back of Kat's shorts and added his voice to the game.

Kermit's uniform of black jacket and tie had been shed hours ago. His starched cotton shirt was a mass of wrinkles after approximately one hundred rolls on the floor under two excited children. Shoving his sleeves up his arms, Kermit stalked his way to the front of the sofa as Kat and KC screamed with mock fear.

"Monsters need to gobble up little children! Wait! I see them!" With that, he lunged at the pair, reaching under both of their shirts to tickle bare tummies.

"Get you, monster!" Kat dove onto her father's chest with KC not far behind. Pinning the would-be monster to the floor, the children returned the treatment.

"I surrender!" Kermit yelled, throwing up his hands.

KC turned his attention toward Kat's ribs and began a wiggling attack on her side. Kermit eased his way out from under the mass of wrestling children and sat back to watch them. Kat gracefully held back, not take advantage of her smaller playmate. She seemed to enjoy the company and let him win this round.

KC was the image of Peter Caine. The little boy's face held nothing back. Peter's way of living life with his heart on his sleeve would be repeated.Having both of these children, Caine and Griffin children, together struck a warm cord in the ex-mercenary's heart. It seemed too good to be true.

That idea was at once comforting and frightening. The ringing of a phone cut into his thoughts. Savannah ran out of the kitchen to grab the phone, wiping pizza dough from her hands. "I'll get it," she said, grabbing the receiver. "Hello? Oh, hi, Jennifer. He's fine. He and Kat have kept Kermit occupied. You wouldn't believe how much I've gotten done tonight."

The kids were still wrestling on the carpet beside Kermit as he watched his wife on the phone. Savannah was twisting the cord with one hand and biting one lip with her teeth. "Uh huh....yeah..."

The flash in her eyes was unmistakable. Kermit could read a plan at one hundred yards and one had just hatched in his wife's mind.

"Well, Jennifer, actually..." Savannah quickly moved her hand to cover the mouthpiece and block out the noises of children from the phone. Turning away from the living room, she said, "KC is sound asleep. Yep, already. They played so hard and the sweet lil' ole thing just passed out. It would be a shame to wake him. Just let him spend the night."

Kermit was on his feet now, trailing Savannah as she hid in the kitchen.

"No trouble at all, sugar. Y'all just stay out as late as you need to and don't worry about a thing. See you in the morning." With one fingernail, she clicked the phone to the off position and began to celebrate. "YES, MA'AM! This is just tooooooo perfect!"

"Lying is a sin, you know." Kermit took the phone from her and turned her around to face him. "It also makes your nose grow."

"Then we'll match," she said, kissing his nose softly. "It wasn't exactly a lie, just a prediction. He'll be asleep soon. You'll see."

"Let me get this straight. You're hoping that these two people, given a night alone, will automatically fall into bed then live happily ever after. Right?"

"It could happen."

"How do you figure?"

"They made a baby, stupid. It's not like it's new territory." Savannah pulled back and gave him a disgusted look. "Look, they're two very attractive, very nice people who were in love. They have this wonderful little boy who they both love. We've got all the ingredients for a happy ending here if you'll just work with me."

With a quick kiss to her lips, Kermit said, "How 'bout I keep these kids occupied and let you finish dinner. Then, you can feed them and put them to bed so you will no longer be a beautiful romantic liar?"

"Good idea," Savannah answered, pushing a wave of hair back from his eyes.

As he turned to go back to the living room, Kermit reached into his back pocket and pulled out his thick wallet. He threw the heavy chunk of leather onto the counter. "Now the monster is more mobile," he said, growling the words and again sending the children into a squealing, giggling frenzy.

Savannah stared at the wallet, tuning out all the happy sounds of play from her home. She didn't know if that hateful condom was still there. The tingling in her fingertips almost reached out to pry open the contents and find out if that condom, that package that might as well have 'Emma' engraved across it, was still there.

The fury and anger and doubt flared once again. She had to swallow over and over to put out the fire. Then, it was gone.

There were people in her house to be fed. Savannah returned to the half finished pizza on the counter, letting the music of giggling children and a happy monster fill her thoughts instead of lingering doubt.

*****

Jennifer snapped her cell phone shut. "Looks like we don't have to rush home. I mean," she paused, then said, "I don't have to rush home, early." She signaled the waiter for more coffee, and explained, "Savannah says KC fell asleep and he can spend the night."

Peter leaned back in his chair and shook his head, a knowing smile on his face. "Yeah, right."

"You sound as if you don't believe her, Peter. Why would she?...oh." Jennifer stopped talking as the waiter poured a stream of hot coffee into her cup. She stirred the cup slowly, then lifted her eyes. "I have to be honest. I don't mind."

Reaching over the table, Peter took her hand. "Neither do I."

She didn't pull away. Peter looked at their hands on the table. Her fingers were long and elegant as they draped over his own. The soft feel of her skin quickened his heart rate.

The hours had flown by, filled with every detail of KC's life since the hour of his birth. Jennifer shared those precious memories happily. Peter needed to hear about his son's colic, his first smile, his aversion to beets and his love of rice.

"I still can't believe he eats rice," Peter said, laughing softly. Her hand closed more tightly around his own.

"Can't forsake all of the stereotypes of our heritage, can we? And, besides, I like rice, so there." Slowly, Jennifer removed her hand to push her long hair back over her shoulder.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't help but stare at her. She was beautiful. Her long dark hair gleamed in waves around her shoulders. He remembered the feel of it between his fingers. The warm blue dress she wore shaped around her every curve. Jennifer Sung was beautiful to the point of intoxicating.

The night had been an exercise in compromise. Jennifer picked the restaurant and insisted on paying the tab. Peter insisted on picking her up even though they both verified and certified that this was not a date. Peter had pulled out one of his "date" jackets and noticed the stale odor from lack of use all over it. After an airing and dose of cologne, he had shifted back into the Social Peter Caine. He had put on a tie. He had returned to his old, pre-priesthood hair stylist.

But this was not a date. Peter reminded himself of this fact once more. They were the parents of a young child and they were here to keep his life in order. That's why they were together.

Jennifer spoke softly into the silence. "So, how did things go last night?" she said, sitting up a little straighter and holding her coffee cup. "I was in such a hurry this morning I wasn't able to ask."

"Things were fine. No problem at all."

"I saw the shape your place was in this morning." Jennifer smiled the knowing smile of a veteran taunting a rookie. It was the same look Annie had given him the first time he had tried to wash clothes and flooded the basement with Tide.

"Okay," Peter said, holding up his hands in confession, "maybe there were a couple of problems."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A thick silence permeated the room after Jennifer left KC on Peter's rug and went back to her office. Even in his excitement at having his son all to himself for an evening, Peter felt the sorrow as Jennifer had kissed her child good-bye. Having to share her baby with another, even his father, was painful.

Now, the two of them were alone. KC was rummaging through a bag of toys Jennifer had supplied. Peter watched as the little boy burrowed through the mesh sack then backed out to place each plaything on floor with a rough toss.

"Hey, little guy," Peter said, reaching behind his chair. "Daddy...uh, I got you some new things." It felt like pressuring the little boy at his feet to label himself as "Daddy." The painful reality of his stranger-hood was evident. To KC, Peter Caine was still a nice new adult to play with for the day. Whatever spiritual bond he felt with this flesh of his flesh,they were still strangers. He wanted desperately to change that.

"Here you go." Pulling out a shopping bag, the nervous father presented his child with a bright plastic choo-choo train. The red, yellow, and blue engine and cars were chunky shapes, well suited for clumsy toddler fingers. "Your first train, KC. We're going to have lots of fun with these." Peter placed the toy train on the floor and chugged it along in demonstration.

Instantly drawn to the bright colors, KC descended on his gift. Turning the train over and over, the little boy first tested the item with his teeth, then banged it on the floor for good measure. Finally, KC righted the train and began to move it across the floor.

"Choo choo choo!" KC began to enjoy his new toy.

Peter felt the satisfaction in a tangible wave throughout his body. He had pleased his little boy, with a train, no less. Without much bidding, visions flooded his mind of the times they would spend together. Peter could share everything Paul had taught him about models, trains, and layout. Now he had someone to share everything he had learned from both fathers.

In the space of those daydreams, KC's attention shifted gears. "Mote!" he shouted, grabbing the remote control from the corner of the sofa. Pointing it toward the television in the corner, KC tried unsuccessfully to turn on the set. "Mote!" he shouted again, with a touch more frustration.

"Okay, so much for trains for now." Peter eased the remote from KC's pudgy fingers and clicked the television to life. "PBS should be safe, huh?" he asked the little boy and got excited babble in return.

Teletubbies! Teletubbies! A sing-song voice sprang from the screen as four odd round beings danced into view.

"TUBBIEEEEE!" KC fairly skidded to a stop in front of the television, bouncing and clapping.

As his son became enraptured by four velour aliens and their baby talk, Peter tried to get into the spirit of the program. After only a few moments filled with nearly intelligible "uh oh's" and "beeeg hug's" Peter decided to take advantage of KC's preoccupation and put away the little boy's things.

Peter was certain his trip to the bedroom with KC's diaper bag had only taken seconds. A loud crash sent him running back to the living area. KC's terrified wail split through the air. Peter's heart leapt into his throat as he covered the twenty steps from his bedroom to where KC sat in a pile of dirt and broken pottery.

Grabbing the little boy under his arms, Peter pulled him from the rubble that was once a pot filled with plants he kept on a pedestal near his kitchen worktable. "I gotcha' sweetie," he crooned, checking KC for cuts as he brushed away the dirt and plant debris. "You're okay, little guy."

The wailing subsided to intermittent sniffling as Peter sat the little boy back in front of the television and went in search of a dust pan and broom. Concentrating on cleaning up the broken pieces and scattered dirt, Peter tried to calm his heartbeat.

"Uh oh!"

KC's exclamation and a loud clatter drew Peter's eyes away from cleaning and toward the sofa. In the span of a few swipes of the broom, KC had climbed onto the sofa. The remote control was lying on the floor with the little boy leaning over the back of the sofa trying to reach it. By the time Peter made a dive toward him, he was barely able to grab the child's ankle before he sailed over and onto the floor.

"Uh oh!" KC giggled, as he was hauled back from the brink of disaster.

"Kid," Peter's words came out in a pant, "ten minutes, two near death experiences." As KC began to bounce on the cushion and Peter's hands stopped shaking, his fear changed to laughter. Pulling the energized little body into his lap, he hugged him tightly. Kissing the dark head, Peter said, "You are definitely my kid."

Still giggling, KC flipped over and slid to the floor. Two tiny feet began a pounding exploration of his new environment. Peter Caine would not be caught off guard again. With both eyes fixed on his son, Peter dropped to his knees and followed hot on KC's trail.

"Maybe down here, I can see all these no-no's before you do, huh kid?"

KC paused, looking back at his father. The odd posture of a grown up on all fours surprised him at first. Then, with an electric shout, the little boy yelled, "Geeeeet MEEEEE!" then took off around the room in a wobbly run.

At that moment, there was no Peter Caine, Shaolin Priest; no Peter Caine, former cop; no Peter Caine, confused single guy. He was a father, on his knees, playing with his son. Two days ago, he had been alone.

"You'd better run or I'll tickle you silly, boy!" Peter continued the chase, his heart lighter than in months.

******

"And, while I was down there I saw about one hundred deadly baby traps that I'll have taken care of before his next...visit." Peter's voice faltered on that last word. He didn't want his son to visit. No one should be a visitor in his father's home.

Jennifer had sat silently listening to Peter's animated tale. With one hand propped beneath her chin, she smiled and said, "Yes, if there's trouble, Danger Boy will find it. Surprisingly, there haven't been any major injuries yet. I anticipate a broken nose in his future."

Without warning, Jennifer reached across the table and touched the crooked line of Peter's nose. Her eyes softened backward several years worth of emotion. The gesture was delivered quickly, a playfully intimate impulse. Her touch was light, then gone.

Jennifer's retreat was tangible. She withdrew to her side of the table, placing both hands safely into her lap.

Peter broke the uncomfortable silence. "Having him with me was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. He slept in my bed with me. He woke up with me. I can't describe how that felt, having my son with me."

"You don't have to describe it, Peter. I know."

"I want to be his father, Jennifer. Not just an every-other-weekend baby-sitter."

"I want that, too, Peter." Jennifer looked down at the remains of her dinner and frowned. "Look, we've been here for hours and haven't really gotten down to discussing anything about scheduling."

"Scheduling." He parroted the word, a slight breath of disappointment mingling with the word.

Jennifer signed the credit card receipt resting on the table and spoke toward the tablecloth. "I don't know about you, but this place was extravagant on price and scrimpy on food. Why don't we go to my place and have a sandwich?"

"Scrimpy?" Peter rose from the table with her, offering his arm. "This from a woman with an English major?"

"I'm an editor, Priest," she said, sliding her arm through his. "I'm allowed a creative vocabulary." Looking up with playful eyes, she said, "You save the souls, I'll handle the language."

Peter focused on the warm presence leaning against his shoulder and walked her slowly to his car.

Peter found it easy to be at home in Jennifer's place. The condo itself was well decorated and plush. Soft colors and simple shapes drew him in and welcomed him. The rooms were bright and open with Jennifer's eye for style. Mingled in with the contemporary furnishings were touches of KC. Scattered toy cars and blocks peeked out from under tables and lined the edges of the living room rug. Stacks of children's books lay at the end of the sofa.

From his seat at the counter in Jennifer's chrome and tile kitchen, Peter found even more imprints of their child. The refrigerator was covered from top to bottom with pages of scribbled color. One in particular caught his eye, a bright green hand print with "KC, 1999" printed underneath. One moment frozen in time and finger paint. Other mysterious hand prints were smeared across the glass panes of the kitchen door. A pair of muddy tennis shoes lay tossed on the door mat and a half-finished coloring book sprawled on the floor beside them.

Jennifer slammed the refrigerator door with her backside and came to the counter with an armload of sandwich supplies. "You have to excuse the mess. I have a cleaning lady who comes once a week but we do a lot of damage in a week." She sat the mayonnaise and ham on a cutting board and shoved her hair back out of the way. "You still eat meat, right?"

"It's fine," Peter answered, opening the bread and helping himself.

"Good," she answered, nervously. It was the first time she had actually appeared uncomfortable with him. Their initial meeting had been greeted with surprise, then hostility. The morning she exposed the secret of their child, Jennifer had been emotional but direct. Now, she was nervous. A jittery uncertainty reached out to Peter as Jennifer carefully avoided looking at him.

"I printed up a calendar of our schedule for you," she said, focusing on unscrewing the lid on the mayonnaise jar. "I do think it's important for KC to be at nursery school on schedule. It's only three half-days a week but he's getting so much out of it."

"Agreed." Peter stopped pulling out the bread and watched Jennifer not watching him.

"Okay," she said, grabbing a dishtowel to help twist the jar lid. "My hours are very unpredictable, especially since the magazine is in the birth process. The nanny I've been using seems to be top notch." She twisted the jar more forcefully.

"You want me to do that?" Peter reached out to take it from her.

"No, no. I've got it." Jennifer twisted again. "What would you like? By way of scheduling, I mean?"

"If you're working and he's not in school, I want him with me." The declaration was plain and simple. He was more confident in this choice than any other in his life. Peter had been denied far too much time with his father. His own son would never know that pain, not ever.

"Are you sure, Peter?" She clutched the jar to her middle and tried to get more leverage. "What about your duties in the community? I know enough about Shaolin priests to know that you are at the beck and call of those in need. What happens when you have KC and there's someone who needs you?"

"Annie will help me." Peter had spoken briefly to his mother over the phone. Her joy at the news of another grandchild had nearly set the receiver on fire. "I also spoke to Mrs. Teng this afternoon. She's the widow of a grocer in Chinatown and she has little to fill her time. Between those two and Lo Si, there won't be a problem."

Jennifer sat the jar down on the counter, lid still stubbornly held in place. Finally looking into his eyes, she said, "You seem to have thought this through. But have you thought about how to keep him--"

"Safe?" The doubt and fear glittered in her eyes. Instead of defensiveness, Peter responded with a calm voice. Jennifer wasn't challenging him. She loved her child and wanted to protect him. Peter Caine could claim that emotion. "He is my son, Jennifer. No one will hurt him when he's with me. I'd die before I would let anyone touch him. You know that, don't you?"

The look in her eyes changed from fear and doubt to a gentle understanding. "I do know that, Peter." The acceptance was complete. Peter felt his place as father cemented. The mother of his child acknowledged him, trusted him. They were on the same page.

Jennifer looked away once again and picked up the jar. "If you want a beer, they're in the fridge. You do still drink beer, don't you?"

Shaking his head, he laughed and rose from his chair. "Yes. Beer is still allowed." Moving to the refrigerator, Peter pulled two long-necked bottles from the cold air. "Bottle opener?"

Jennifer was still straining to open the mayonnaise and paused briefly to point directly behind her. "Top drawer beside the sink."

Finding the opener, Peter popped off the metal caps and turned to offer one to Jennifer. With that motion, Peter found Jennifer in his arms. With a bottle held in each hand, Peter stood perfectly still with Jennifer's back pressed against his chest.

She froze at the contact. An ember smoldered between their bodies as the rise and fall of Peter's chest stroked against her back. Smoothly, Peter sat the bottles down on either side of her and lay his hands on her shoulders. He held them there, unmoving but pulsating against her body. Looking forward, he could see her reflection in the clear glass front of the china cabinet opposite them both. Jennifer's eyelids drooped shut in a languid acceptance of his touch.

Decisions concerning a child had nothing to do with this feeling. Thinking and logic were being banished by a clotted heat billowing around them.

Peter let go.

Gliding his long fingers down her arms, Peter paused when reaching bare flesh. Jennifer's skin was smooth and cool, stretched tautly over strongly feminine muscles. Spreading his finger wide, he explored her arms, smiling when he reached her narrow wrists. The jar was still clutched tightly in her hands.

"Let me," he groaned into her ear. Placing one hand under the bottom of the wide glass container, he held it firmly and twisting the metal cap away. Each flex required to budge the stubborn lid pushed his body more firmly to hers.

Peter took the jar from her hands and sat it on the counter. He wanted her hands free. Want and need were the only things that mattered at this moment.

Jennifer eased her fingers into his hands, tangling them with his own as she lolled her head backward. "Thank you," she whispered in a voice hushed by passion.

"You're welcome." His lips were trailing a warm path down her neck. It had been an eternity since he had touched her. In that instant, eternity disappeared. "Jennifer." The lust and love for her moaned past his lips as Jennifer reached her arms back over her head to tangle in his hair. The invitation was delivered with wanton clarity. His tongue tasted her flesh, softly flicking from her earlobe to the base of her neck. Circling around her waist, Peter stroked the intimate plain of her abdomen. The liquid fabric hid little from his exploration. His hands spread wide to grope their way around her body, not wanting to miss a single inch.

"Peter...oh, Peter." Jennifer rocked her body against his, setting him on fire with a building blaze of need. His hands found her breasts, cupping them gently as he traced lazy circles down her throat with the tip of his tongue.

Swirling in a haze of desire, Jennifer turned in his arms. Mouths met in a long overdue greeting. This was no tentative kiss of long parted lovers. Time shredded around them, disintegrating the years of separation. She kissed Peter with a long sensual stroke that blurred his senses and hardened his flesh with anticipation of more.

The luscious taste of her mouth made him dizzy, crazed. Flesh was all that mattered. Jennifer nipped and suckled his lips. He slipped his tongue gently into her warm red mouth to trace every moist inch he had longed for when she had gone away.

Breaking away, Jennifer stepped back from Peter. Her dark eyes were half closed with arousal. Peter watched, mesmerized, as Jennifer smiled a sex-laden grin and reached behind her body. The metal hiss of a zipper teased the air. He watched her dress drain away onto the gleaming white tile. He licked his lips to retrieve another ounce of her taste and watched her body revealed. Barely moving her feet, she stepped free of the dress and stood in front of him in only a pair of whisper thin lace panties. The openness of her naked body touched him. Jennifer Sung didn't reveal herself or give herself away easily. Now, the barriers she had brought to his home days ago were wiped away.

Jennifer reached out her hand, linking her fingers with his as he reached back. Her body was golden and delicious and he followed the brilliance of her beauty as she lead him through the house and to her bedroom. The darkness gathered around them, holding their bodies as they connected once again.

Her flesh traveled under his hands as Jennifer slipped each of his buttons free. The shirt sailed to the floor and her warm, sweet mouth pressed a welcome across his chest. Long elegant fingers eased their way inside his waistband and the blood rushed from his head in an erotic tidal wave. His belt disappeared. Cool, soft hands pushed his pants open and down to the floor and his shaft leapt out to stroke against her skin. Peter sucked in his breath as Jennifer lightly touched him, tracing his length and cradling him in her palm.

One sane thought breezed through his mind and he reached for his wallet. Blindly, he found the plastic packet and pulled it free as Jennifer licked delicate circles over his chest and caressed his body.

"Mmmm..." she said, touching his hands as he slid the condom over his throbbing erection. "Good thinking."

"Given our record...it seems...oh yeah...like a...good idea."

Jennifer began to laugh a smooth sexy giggle that vibrated against his throat and tingled down to the spot where her hand still held him.

They were still standing, groping each other for dear life in the heavy darkness. Peter moved out of the pile of clothing and eased his hands to Jennifer's face. His fingertips brushed across her skin, accepting gentle kisses as he passed her lips. The hollow of her neck guided him lower. Leaning close, he whisper, "God, I've missed you." His hands found the smooth mound of her breasts and she moaned rhythmically as he cupped them and grazed the nipples with his thumbs.

He should ask her if she was sure about making love. It was what he was about to do. He still loved her. Peter Caine had embraced the honesty of his emotions completely and this wasn't purely a physical craving for sex with a beautiful woman. This was Jennifer. But the words wouldn't come. No pause would present itself into the passion for discussion.

"I've missed you, too." She lifted her head with the words, staring up at him through the haze of darkness.

That was all he needed to dispel the doubt. Peter claimed her mouth, kissing her so completely that they both stumbled backward onto the bed. Looping his long fingers through delicate lace, he guided the panties down her thighs then off onto the floor. The sex became a mystic blur of hands and mouths and tongues. No tender inch was left untouched. Jennifer's hands tangled in his hair as he lapped long wet tastes down her stomach. The intoxicating honey of sex drew him between her thighs and sent Jennifer into a screaming, bucking frenzy. He teased and suckled her until he felt he would burst himself with need.

"NOW, Peter...please...I need you.."

Her legs spread wide in a pleading invitation which he gladly accepted. Peter held himself above her and their eyes locked in a sexual trance. He wanted to please her, wanted to watch her pleasure. Jennifer's dark eyes glittered up at him with the same need, the need to see his completion. Pulling a long breath of air into his lungs, Peter kissed their bodies together, guiding himself inside her with a gentle push. The glorious clamp of her sex blinded him, exploding upward through his body.

The sensations assaulted him like never before. This was his first sexual experience since he had taken the brands. The one logical function left operating in his mind at the moment marveled at the intensity of this experience. His brain and heart and soul were all moving in time with his love making. Jennifer's emotions entwined themselves with his own. There was love there. He knew it. The knowing doubled his own pleasure as their bodies began to pump in unison.

Jennifer clung to his shoulders, meeting each thrust with a passionate jerk of her own hips. They were traveling together, beating a frenzied path toward climax. Moving with her, in her, Peter felt himself detach from reality. His mind and body erupted in an erotic explosion that left him helpless to the experience. Jennifer cried his name as her body writhed with the force of her own orgasmic reward.

Little by little the lovers came back to themselves, collapsing in a tangled knot of naked limbs and mangled sheets. The only intrusion into the now stilled night was heaving breath and pounding hearts. Jennifer clutched her arms around the small of Peter's back, holding him close to her body. Her cheek pressed into his chest, absorbing his heartbeat. Peter held her tightly, offering grateful kisses and soothing her hair away from her face.

Tilting her chin upward, he kissed her forehead and whispered, "I love you."

Still struggling for breath, Jennifer looked up at him, but before she could speak, he lightly touched a finger to her lips. "No, don't say anything. I love you and that's enough for me now. Let's just enjoy now."

She smiled softly, pushing him onto his back and covering him with her body.

*****

She wasn't exactly sure what time it was. Jennifer couldn't help but laugh when she looked across the room and found a wad of wrinkled sheet blocking her view of the alarm clock. Peter was stretched out over the bed in the wreckage of what was once orderly bedroom decor. From her vantage point, seated on the floor beside an open window, she admired his body in the moonlight. There was a more solid air about him now. Not that he had ever been soft, but now, with those brands blazing a deep scarlet on his forearms, his entire body seemed more hardened, more confident in every motion. The thought of touching those brands during their lovemaking had frightened her at first. There was an inherent violence in the simple act of branding that sent a shiver through her as she thought of Peter and what that moment must have been like for him.

Jennifer had avoided touching them as they clutched and stroked each other in the dark. As he had moved inside her, Peter's arms had braced on either side of her shoulders. In their frenzied acrobatics, she had felt the raised scars brush against her shoulders. Instead of a harsh scraping touch of scorched flesh, the tiger and dragon were no more foreign than the rest of Peter's body as it touched her. The scars rubbed softly against her skin. They were Peter. Peter as always, only more intense. The brands were only Peter's own smooth skin molded into his new life.

A cool breeze blew through the open window and Jennifer pulled the edges of her robe more closely around her body. A part of her was disappointed in the feel of the brands on her skin. It would be easier to maintain her reasoning if they had felt like mutilated scabs. If they had revolted her and made her flesh crawl, that would have held her rationalizations in place. If Peter had seemed unsettled in his life, if he had adopted that oddly mystical persona carried by his father, if he had displayed that ready-to-bite way of life that had attracted her then driven her away -- any of those would have been enough to reinforce her decision to keep her distance.

Peter offered little by way of assistance. He was reasonable without giving up his strength. He was thoughtful without losing himself. He was strong without the sharpened angry edges of the past.

So, now what do you do?

With no more disturbance than the night air, Peter was at her side. His sudden appearance was so graceful that it hadn't ruffled her thoughts or startled her. Jennifer watched quietly as Peter, one of her crumpled bed sheets wrapped at his waist, folded to the floor in front of her. He smiled a sleepy satisfied grin and reached out to cup her face. The tender touch held her cheek then faded away as he withdrew.

"There hasn't been anyone in my life since I left you, Peter." Jennifer let the words begin to spill, helpless to the flood. Her barriers had been blown to the winds and self was preparing to leak all over the floor. Peter moved his mouth to speak and she silenced him with the same gentle touch to his lips he had used to stop her words earlier. "Things moved so quickly. I found out about the baby, he was born, there was life to handle. My life was full of KC and work and...well, all the while, there was you."

As Peter averted his gaze, Jennifer felt a touch of satisfaction at his embarrassment. "I know it hasn't been that way for you and it doesn't matter. I just wanted you to know."

"You've never left my heart, Jen. Even in my hurt and anger when you left, you were still there," Peter said, taking her hand. "Now, I know why." He held her hand lightly, stroking the delicate bones with his thumb. "I love you, Jennifer Sung. I want you to be my wife."

Jennifer couldn't deny the tears as they streamed down her cheeks. "Peter, I don't know if I can be your wife. At first I thought it was because of the violence in your life."

"What happened last time won't--"

"Let me finish," she said, holding his hand tightly. "But, I think that's not what it is. Maybe that's just been part of my struggle. I'm not sure I can be a wife, Peter, your wife. You are Shaolin now. I understand what that means to you and those around you. You need a wife who can help you be this man, this priest. I'm selfish, Peter. I work crazy hours. I have to live, eat, and sleep my job. What isn't sucked up by the magazine has to belong to my son. What does that leave for you, Peter? Not much. It doesn't leave anything for me, either. I'm afraid to short change us all. I'm afraid."

The words had spilled out past her lips and never paused to be filtered by her mind. The admissions were hard; harsh self examination and admission of shortcomings. She looked away into the night, face flushed with the confession.

Peter held tightly to her hand and his voice spoke in soothing tones. "I've been where you are, Jennifer. Afraid to trade in what I knew for what I didn't. Only you can decide what path to take, whether it's with me as my wife or simply as KC's parent." He used on finger to turn her cheek back toward him. "I love you but I won't force you to make any decision before you're ready. When you know what you want, I'll be ready to hear it."

His arms opened wide, accepting her body and turmoil. Jennifer had no more words to offer and settled quietly into his embrace. She could hear Peter as he spoke softly, lips against her hair. "I love you for the way you were determined to find out what happened to your grandfather even though you were scared to death. I love the bright red embarrassment on your face when you were buttoning your blouse after my father caught us necking in my apartment. I love the way you gave life to our son when it would have been so easy for you to sweep him away Whatever you decide, won't change that."

She held on more tightly, pressing her cheek against the steady beat of his heart. "And I love you, Peter Caine. That's what makes this so hard."

There were no more words to be said. They sat on the floor in silence as dawn began. Warm pinks smeared across the deep blue night as sunrise invaded the sky. Little by little the violent colors swirled together, pushed upward by a bright yellow sun.

They both watched the sunrise, seeing a new day together.

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