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Subject: Connected (Part 5)
Date: Mon, 3 Mar 1997 02:19:08 -0600
Message-ID: <19970303081907343.AAA174@denp1-29.iglobal.net>

CONNECTED (Sequel to Third Time's a Charm) - Part 5
by Deb Parizek and Rhonda Hallstrom

Thirty minutes later, Peter was, physically this time, on the street outside
his apartment building. A short walk on this beautiful spring day got him to
the corner bus stop. Several people were gathered there so Peter joined
them, stepping close to the plexiglass shelter that protected the bench.
Instantly, he was overwhelmed by the noise, though no one spoke. He swayed,
a bit disoriented as anger, sadness, happiness, jealousy, impinged on his
heightened sense of awareness. Leaning against the enclosure kept him from
drawing anyone's attention as he compensated. A little more energy to the
shields he used to protect himself took care of the problem. *The priests at
the temple were sure quiet....The precinct is gonna be a great place to hang
out if people are this loud on the street.* He briefly wondered how his
father managed all this time.

The Woodlands Subdivision of Sloanville's Montrose suburb was Peter's stop.
The Blaisdell home was a block away from where he stepped off the bus. When
he was a kid, he recalled, he would run that block to the house, always
anxious to get home then onto the next activity. Today, despite being
excited to see his family, he walked, appreciating the environment. *Taking
time to smell the roses... Who'd have thought I EVER would...*

Two houses away from his goal, he passed the Johnsons, who were already out
working in their garden. Peter waved a greeting, which the older couple
returned.

Finally, Peter found himself at the end of the driveway to his parent's
house. Just seeing the house, he determined, made him feel happy. He could
almost feel love radiating from the structure as he reached out with his chi
to see who was home.

First, he found Annie's aura and established a link to her. She was
puttering around in the kitchen. His stomach growled, reminding him that he
had not eaten in quite awhile. He felt her reach for the cinnamon roll dough
in the fridge... his favorite breakfast.

With a shift of his chi, Peter found Kelly upstairs in her room. She was
throwing books into her backpack, anxiety-ridden over final exams. He
touched her aura, offering comfort. *Chill out,* he thought and the frantic
way she had been loading her backpack was replaced by careful positioning of
the books in the bag.

He also found Carolyn upstairs, in the room that used to be her bedroom.
Near her, he discovered a second aura -  a very young one he did not
recognize. *Carolyn had the baby.*

As he started to withdraw his chi, he brushed up against a fifth aura.
*Dad!* A smile burst onto his face and he jogged for the house.

At the sliding glass doors that led into the family room, he stopped and
rubbed his hands together. *Gotta try it...* He planted his thumb against
the lock then slid his thumb down. The lock yielded then he quietly opened
the door and stepped into the house. Inside, he quickly reset the alarm so
it would not signal an intrusion.

The twin aromas of coffee and cinnamon grabbed his nose and dragged him into
the kitchen. He didn't resist. Standing in the doorway, he watched as Annie
completed pouring herself a cup of coffee. After she replaced the pot in the
Mr. Coffee machine, he spoke. "Mom?"

Annie whirled around to face him, completely surprised. "Peter???"

Suddenly, he was at a loss for words. "uh... Hi."

Annie gave him a big smile and said, "HI?! Is that all you have to say for
yourself? Come over here and give me a hug!!"

Peter closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms  around his
mother. She snuggled into his embrace. It hit him just how much he missed
her, feeling her love surround him.

"I missed you so much," he told her, kissing the top of her head.

"I missed you, too, dear."

He loosened his grip and her hands, no longer clasped behind his back,
travelled up his chest, down then back up his arms, brushed his neck then
traversed his face. He knew she was taking inventory and he grinned.

Annie "saw" his expression and smiled as her fingers found the hair at his
temples. "They didn't make you shave your hair or have you been in hiding
until it grew out?"

"I didn't have to shave it."

"You're more muscular..."

"And twice as stubborn..." He grinned again.

"Oh... Well, it's still good to have you home..." She told him, a smile
continuing to curve the corners of her mouth. "Will you tell us all about
it? Have you eaten? When did you get home?"

"Yes... No... late last night."

"Do you still eat cinnamon rolls? Drink coffee?" Annie asked, probing.

"Yes to both," Peter replied.

Annie smiled, happy to find her son still existed inside Peter Caine. "Well,
get a cup and join me. The rolls will be done shortly."

"Don't mind if I do... " Peter replied, releasing her then retrieving a cup
from the dishwasher. "Why are you making rolls anyway? That's a Sunday thing."

"I'm not sure. Just a few moments ago, I had this feeling that it was going
to be a special day." She reached up and touched his face, feeling it grow
warm under her hand. "I can see I was right..."

Peter cursed his inability to control his blush response as he felt his
cheeks get warm. Shaolin training doesn't take care of everything.

Annie pulled him back from the edge of embarrassment. "Haven't I told you
that it's bad karma to sneak up on a blind chick?"

As he poured his coffee, he replied, "Sorry, mom. Guess it's a bad habit I
picked up at the temple. Everyone is so quiet there."

"That's ok ... I can't wait to hear all about it!"

Kelly bounced into the room. "Mom, who- Peter??!"

Peter, even using his enhanced reflexes, barely got his coffee down on the
counter before she attacked him, wrapping him in a bear hug.  He squeezed
her in return. "Hi, Squirt," he said.

Wrapped in his warm embrace, her head on his shoulder, Kelly felt her
anxiety drain away as Peter rubbed her back. After a moment, she broke the
hug and grabbed his right wrist as he reached for the coffee cup and pot.
She started to push up his sleeve, asking, "Well..?"

Peter twisted his arm gently, extricating himself from her grip. "No
peeking. You'll get the story over breakfast."

"Good," a masculine voice said.

Peter turned to the door and found Paul standing there in his pajamas and
robe, a warm smile on his face. "Dad."

Paul's smile grew more fatherly, if that was possible.

Kelly stepped out of the way and Peter walked over to his foster father,
arms open - requesting, and at the same time offering, a hug. Paul responded
in kind. They embraced.

"I'm glad you're home ... uh ... Peter." Paul faltered, uncertain where he
now stood with his foster son.

Peter missed the hesitation, caught up in his own perceptions. He registered
a lingering discomfort in Paul's chest and the night he had witnessed Paul
get shot leapt into his mind. To help ease the remaining pain, Peter reached
out with his chi and quieted the abused nerves near the site of the injury.
Then, Peter sensed Paul's mental anguish - Have I lost my son? In response,
Peter let his love for Paul fill his aura as he whispered near Paul's ear.
"I am more your son now than I ever was before, Dad."

Paul squeezed him tighter as he thought he felt Peter's love surround him.
Taking that scared, angry boy from the orphanage, giving him a home and
getting him through many difficult years had led to this moment. Paul knew
it had been worth it before, but this was the sweetest icing possible for
the cake.

Carolyn stood in the doorway with the baby in her arms and a tear in her eye
as she witnessed the exchange between father and son. When it was over, she
said, "Our turn."

Peter wrapped his arms around his sister and her son. "Now, this is what I
call a homecoming," he remarked. Turning to the baby, he asked, "Who might
this be?"

"Andrew," Carolyn replied. "Andrew, this is your Uncle Peter."

Andrew favored Peter with a coo then reached out to be taken from his
mother. "I thought he had better taste than that," Carolyn joked.

Lifting the baby out of his sister's arms, Peter asked, "Hey, what's not to
like?"

"Breakfast..." Annie announced, opening the oven door as the timer sounded.

Peter carried the baby into the dining room and sat with Andrew on his lap.
Annie, Carolyn and Paul followed, bringing rolls, coffee and baby food. The
rolls were passed and coffee settled on the table. Caorlyn popped open the
baby food jars then tried to take Andrew from Peter. Andrew made his desire
to stay on Peter's lap known and rather loudly. "I'll feed him," Peter offered.

"What do you know about feeding a baby?" Carolyn asked.

"How tough can it be?" Peter countered.

With a devilish smile, Carolyn sat the baby food in front of her brother and
said, "Be my guest."

Everyone, but Peter and Andrew, bit into their cinnamon roll as Peter
spooned some of the baby fare into his nephew. Andrew, usually a fussy
eater, accepted each bite, fussed only when Peter stopped spooning and put
some cinnamon roll in his own mouth.

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother and my son?"  Carolyn asked.

Peter responded with a grin as he fed Andrew some more cereal.

Well, talk..." Kelly demanded of Peter.

"Where to begin..." Peter sighed then took another bite of the roll in
front of himself.

"Why don't you bottom-line it for your family, who are wondering what your
future holds," Paul suggested, endeavoring to maintain a matter-of-fact tone.

"Alright," Peter agreed. He pushed up the left sleeve of his light sweater
and showed them his unscarred forearm. "I completed my training and earned
the right to ascend to the priesthood. I turned it down, opting to remain a
cop."

Surprise registered on the four other faces around the table.

"Honey, I thought you were going to become a priest so you could understand
yourself..." Annie stated, somewhat confused.

"I just needed to complete the training to sort out my head, Mom," Peter
told her. "I hope you weren't hoping for a son who was a priest..."

"I was hoping you would find what you needed, dear."

"I did, Mom. Thanks," Peter replied. "I guess my path is that of a 'Shaolin
cop.'"

"What is a 'Shaolin cop?'" Paul asked.

"When I figure that out, I'll let you know," Peter said with a shrug. "After
visiting for a while with you, I am going to the 101st to see if they happen
to have an opening for a detective. Speaking of which, what are you up to
these days, Dad?"

There was that "Dad" word again. Paul tried to keep the pleased note from
his voice. "Retirement..."

Peter expressed his doubt while wiping the baby's chin. "Yeah, right..."

"We'll talk about me later ... You continue," Paul urged.

"Yes, dear. Can you tell us about your training?" Annie asked.

"I don't see why not." Peter told her.

A horn sounded in the drive.

"Damn, gotta go..." Kelly said, rising. After grabbing her backpack, she
stopped next to Peter, bent down and gave him a little kiss on the cheek.
"I'm glad you're home, big brother."

"Glad to be here. Good luck on your finals," Peter replied, catching her for
a kiss on the cheek.

"How did you know I had finals?"

He shrugged at her, a perfect imitation of his father.

"Never mind ... Geez! as if you weren't irritating  before," she muttered,
heading for the door.

Peter smiled at his foster parents and remaining sister.

"Do go on, Peter," Annie suggested.

Peter downed more of the roll and took a sip of coffee before continuing -
to talk and feed Andrew. "Well, I had the knowledge and skill in Kung Fu I
needed so the training  -- spiritual, mental and physical -- helped me
realize it. First, though, I had to prove myself worthy of receiving the
training..."

Peter hit the highlights of his days at the second temple.

"... Before I could walk the rice paper, I had to achieve spiritual and
physical balance. You'd have loved the last exercise on that road..." He
described standing on the poles, holding up the pails of water, how much
trouble he had with it until he understood and how he could now hold aloft
the pails effortlessly, standing on one foot on one pole. He purposely left
out the part about the knives strapped to his upper arms.

"After I walked the paper, I took a spiritual journey, with some help from
Pop and Lo Si, and spoke to Master Po. He told me how it is possible to
achieve anything and how to recognize my true path."

His parents and sister took it all in without comment. Paul did notice that
Peter was sitting still and using very few gestures. Very atypical Peter.

"So, after all that AND putting some blackmarket smugglers out of business..."

"Smugglers?" Paul asked, requesting elaboration.

"Oh, didn't I mention that the Sing Wah were doing business with two of the
other students, who were selling ancient artifacts on the black market?"
Peter asked with a smile.

"You seemed to have left that out..." Paul said with a slight shake of his head.

"The Sing Wah were trying to obtain a crystal that had the ability to drain
a Shambhala Master of his chi. Those two students had it in their
possession. I saved Pop and Lo Si from it by smashing it on the floor, right
in front of the Sing Wah."

"I don't suppose they weren't too happy about that..." Paul commented,
dryly, between sips of coffee.

"That's the impression I got as I caught the two shuriken they'd thrown at
my face," Peter said, his tone light. "They attacked but, Pop, Lo Si and I
took them out."

"I swear, kid, you are a trouble magnet," Paul told him.

"Yeah, I am," Peter agreed. "The hell of it was that I knew it was going to
happen..."

"How was that, honey?" Annie asked.

"I'd had the same dream every night where I followed my Pop down a corridor.
He entered into a room and I couldn't get in to save him from something,"
Peter explained. "As it turned out, the room was in the temple where we
were. I kicked the door open then I was able to get to him and Lo Si to save
the from the effects of the crystal.  Oh, speaking of my Pop, he sends his
regards."

"That is considerate of him," Annie said. "Is he okay with your decision?"

"Yes. His philosophy is 'You do not choose your path, your path chooses you.'"

"And your path leads back to the one-oh-one?" Paul asked, looking for
confirmation of an earlier statement.

"I hope so," Peter replied. "Simms might have given my spot to the first
person who requested it just in case I did come back."

"You had trouble with Karen?"

"We got off on the wrong foot and would butt heads every once in awhile. She
thought you gave me preferential treatment and I don't think she ever got
used to my Pop."

"I warned her."

"So she said, but I don't think she took you seriously."

"Then, why do you want to go back?" Paul asked. He wanted to be certain
Peter had given thought to other options. "You could get on at another
precinct..."

"I know I could get on elsewhere, Dad, and if nothing's available at the
one-oh-one, I will pursue a position at another precinct." Peter sensed
Paul's feelings on the matter. "Hey, maybe I should go to the ninety-sixth
and be a thorn in Eppy's side..." Peter said, snapping his fingers.

"Eppy'd probably LOVE that," Paul joked.

"Yeah, he'd like to have me around to fetch him coffee again... Truth be
known, though, I want to go back and work with the people I consider part of
my family. Those would be the ones on the team that you built, Capt'n."

"I'm pleased about that, son," Paul said, a gratified smile on his face.

Peter returned the smile then asked, "What have I missed here, besides Dad's
homecoming and Andrew's birth?"

*****

Peter glanced down at his watch. 11:45. Time for him to face Simms and ask
for his old job back.

As he rose from the couch, Peter saiad, "I have to run so I can catch Simms
while everyone is at lunch."

"Good luck, son," Annie said. "Let us know how it goes."

Peter leaned over and kissed his foster mother on the cheek. "I will, Mom."

Paul pushed himself to a standing position and asked, "Peter, may I see you
in my den for a moment first?"

"Sure, Dad."

Paul led the way as he normally did when asking Peter to meet with him in
the den. Peter, out of habit, tried to determine what he might have done
wrong to warrant this private meeting as he followed in his dad's wake.

Arriving at the den, Paul opened the door and stepped inside. Taking a seat
on the edge of his desk, he waited for Peter to enter and close the door.

"Sit," Paul suggested, pointing to one of the guest chairs.

Peter did as requested, still uncertain what was up. Try as he might, he
couldn't pick up the reason for this discussion. Paul's emotions betrayed
nothing.

He had nothing to worry about. Paul leaned down and placed a fatherly hand
on his shoulder. "I wanted to thank you, son."

"For?" Peter asked, confused.

"Saving my life! Helping me get home safely."

"S'cuse me?"

"Your friend Sam Beckett...."

A grin broke out on Peter's face. "Oh...Now, I'm with ya."

"He said you asked him to come and help me...?" At Peter's nod, Paul
stammered, "But...how? How did you know I was in trouble?"

"I'd had a bad day - really screwed up on everything I tried - so I went to
the lake near the temple to chill out. My Pop joined me there and suggested
I meditate to find out what had me bugged. I did and found myself in a
jungle. Saw you get shot. I wanted to help you myself but there was no way I
could get there in time. So I asked Sam. He's the only time traveler I
know...except for Pop." He grinned.

"Wait - back up. How did you 'ask' Sam?"

Peter flushed a bit before answering. "I sent a little mental request his
way. I didn't think he'd mind."

"Sam told me I'd see some changes in you," Paul said, a smile coming to his
lips. "I guess he was right."

"Well, what do you think of the new and improved Peter Caine?" Peter asked
as he rose from the chair.

Paul pulled Peter into a hug. "I'm damn proud of him. Now, get out there and
keep the city safe!"

Their hug broke and Peter saluted smartly as he exited. "Yes, sir!"

Paul smiled at his son's retreating back.

*****

Keys in his hand, Peter exited the Blaisdell house and walked to the garage.
Inside, he found his car.

Standing next to it, he ran his hand along the shining blue sheet metal.
Scenes from car chases played in his mind. Cutting off the images, he opened
the door and slid into the driver's seat. He opened his mind and his
awareness expanded to fill the space the car occupied.

It felt right and he backed out of the garage.

****

Using a technique he learned at the temple, Peter walked unnoticed past
Sergeant Broderick and entered the squadroom. TJ sat at his desk, head
buried in a file. Skalany sat at her desk, talking on the phone. He saw
Kermit hunched over his computer, deep in concentration. Peter walked past
all of them, unseen, intent on visiting the Captain. He knocked once on the
door.

<Come in.>

Peter opened the door and leaned in. "Do you have a moment, Captain?"

A smile lit up her face. "Of course... Please...." She indicated the guest
chair with her hand.

Peter closed the door, crossed to the chair and sat down.

"Have all my officers died?" Simms asked, still smiling. "How did you get
through the squadroom without an uproar?"

Peter smiled and shrugged, just like his father.

"Is 'shrugging' a special course at the temple?"

Peter smiled. "No, it's a requirement - Enigmatic 101."

"Well, you look great, Peter...finishing your training seems to have agreed
with you."

Peter noted with pleasure that Captain Simms assumed automatically that he
did finish it. "It has," he confirmed. Deciding to get straight to the
point, he then said, "Now, I want to put that training to good use..."

"Are you going to teach in Chinatown with your father?" she asked, secretly
hoping his answer would be 'no'.

Peter sensed her emotion. It bolstered his confidence in his decision.
"Actually, I was wondering if you might have an opening for a detective...."

Simms reached down and pulled open one of her desk drawers. She removed a
couple of items and sat them on her desk. "I held onto these, just in
case.... Welcome back, Detective Caine."

Brow wrinkled in confusion, Peter reached for his badge and gun. "Thank you,
Captain, but..."

"How soon do you want to return to active duty?"

"Would now be too soon?"

"Not at all," Simms said casually, hiding how pleased she felt. "You still
have the same desk and I'm sure the Chief has plenty of cases for you."

"Some things never change," Peter replied, standing.

"I'll put through the paperwork that terminates your leave of absence...."

"I resigned," he reminded her.

Simms shrugged, a perfect imitation of Caine. Peter laughed as he headed for
the door.

"Detective...?"

Peter turned back to face her.

"I'm glad to have you back," she said, sincerely.

"I'm glad to be back," he replied then, exiting her office, he muttered,
"You have no idea how glad...."

Before checking in with Strenlich, Peter stuck his head in Kermit's office.

"Hi, Kermit."

Kermit looked up. "Well, the bad penny himself. So, what do I call you
now...Father...? Priest Peter? Or just plain Master of All He Surveys?"

Peter grinned. "Hmm..." he mused, "I kinda like the ring of that last one...."

"In your dreams."

Peter shook his head. "Yeah, you're right," he said, "I think I like
'Detective' better."

Kermit turned as Peter slid his coat back revealing his badge and gun. "How
does Linus give up his blanket?" Kermit asked rhetorically.

"I don't know. How?"

"He doesn't!" The two friends grinned at each other. "Welcome back, Peter,"
Kermit said.

"Thanks - and thank you...."

"For what?"

"For helping to save Paul's life."

Kermit looked at his friend oddly. "Just what do you-"

"You don't want to know," grinned Peter. Kermit...and the rest of his
friends...were in for some surprising changes. The last thing Peter wanted
was to spoil the surprise!

*****
THE END!