"Thanksgiving Time"

Canon characters: Peter Caine, Paul Blaisdell, Sgt Broderick, Kwai Chang

Caine, Kermit Griffin, Mary Margaret Skalany, and other nameless faces from the precinct.

Original characters: Peter's new snitch who never got a name, and numerous other thugs and gentlemen of the criminal persuasion

Rating: G

Synopsis: Peter keeps getting delayed for a meeting with a new snitch.

Author note: It is easy to be thankful when times are good. The real trick is to be thankful when life keeps throwing curve balls at you. I am a deeply grateful person today, not only for what I have, including the people in my life and those on the net, but also for what I don't have. Think about it. Life could always be worse. Focus on what you have and be happy. Focus on what you don't and you will never find happiness. That's my take on thanksgiving.

"Thanksgiving Time"

by valleya

Detective Peter Caine grabbed his leather jacket as he cursed under his breath. Enough is enough, he decided, finally giving up on Skalany and Kermit to get back in time to meet his new snitch. Glancing at his watch one more time, he thumped the face of it. "You guys were supposed to be here over an hour ago," he muttered in disgust.

He headed for the door when Captain Paul Blaisdell stepped out of his office. "Peter, I need to speak with you for a moment."

Peter skidded to a halt, half-turning to Paul. "Is it urgent? I'm kind of pressed for time right now."

Paul nodded. "It will only take a minute."

Peter frowned. What was so urgent it would only take a minute? With Peter's luck, it was something that could wait until Friday. Another freaking delay. First, he got held up in booking with an idiot who tried to pick his pocket at the hotdog place in front of the precinct while he was waiting on Skalany and Kermit, only to lose his cell phone somewhere along the way. Then, Carolyn called, wanting to make sure he'd be at the house for Thanksgiving on time. Of course, he'd be there. And it took him forever to get her off the phone. Damn it, he had places to be.

He walked into Paul's office and stopped, waiting expectantly. Paul was behind his desk, looking forlornly at a mound of paperwork that was his inbox.

With a sigh, he shoved paperwork into his briefcase as he glanced up at Peter. "I'm heading out in a minute and Annie asked me to confirm your plans for Thanksgiving."

Peter threw his hands up into the air. "What is going on? Have I ever not shown up for Thanksgiving? That's the urgent minute thing?" Peter asked in confusion.

Paul looked a little confused. "Hey, it's a simple yes or no question. It isn't easy to coordinate plans for the family gathering when your kids are grown and on their own. Annie wants to make sure everyone is going to be there at the proper time."

Peter held out his hands in exasperation. "Yeah, Pop and I will be at the house at 2PM on tomorrow for the annual Thanksgiving Day feast like I just told Carolyn. Can I go now?"

Paul looked a little chagrined. "Sorry. I didn't know Carolyn had called you. Good, I'm glad you got the message, though. Your mother has big plans for tomorrow's dinner. Frankly, I just wish she would relax and enjoy the day with the rest of us."

Peter nodded and started for the door. "It's okay and I don't think you'll be able to change Mom at this point in life. Well, gotta go. See you tomorrow."

Paul's expression quickly transformed into concern. "What's the hurry? What do you have to go out for?"

Peter shook his head and dropped his hands. This was just getting worse and worse. It seemed no matter how fast he tried to move, something kept going wrong. By the time he finished explaining his plans to Paul and took the additional time to rationalize why he was going to this meet by himself, he'd be even later.

Peter took another look at Paul. Paul had that concerned glint to his eyes. So, Peter gave him the bare bones version. When he was done, Paul's expression was even more grim.

"Pull Jody or Chin to go with you," Paul ordered.

"They aren't here, Paul. Look, I can handle this myself, but if I don't leave soon, the snitch will be gone and I'll have no information."

"Then I'll go with you."

Paul stood.

"No, Paul, you already said you were heading out." Peter's shoulders slumped at the way extended conversation was continuing to delay him.

"It can wait. I don't want you meeting a new snitch without backup."

"Geez!" Peter said, turning to the doorway. After a moment of internal debate, he turned back to face Paul.

Before he could say anything, Paul said sternly, "Don't argue with me on this. You already said you were pressed for time, so let's go."

Peter ran a hand through his hair, reluctantly accepting Paul's presence. "Okay, fine."

They were on their way out when Broderick stopped them. "Peter, you've got a call."

"Take a message," Peter growled as he started to step around him, his frustration at the continued delays growing.

"Can't. They said it was important and would only speak to you," Broderick replied, handing Peter the telephone.

Peter slammed his jacket on the counter and put the phone to his ear as Broderick punched the line for the call. "Caine," Peter said tersely.

The voice on the other end of the phone was angry. "You were supposed to be here a half hour ago! Is the meet on or off?"

"I'm trying to get out of the precinct, but I keep getting stopped. I'm leaving right now. Should be there in ten minutes, fifteen tops."

"Fine. Just be here by then or don't bother to come at all. That is, if you are still interested in getting Cargassachi in prison."

"I am. Don't leave until I get there," Peter replied, handing the phone back to Broderick, giving Paul a frustrated glance.

"Your snitch?" Paul asked, though he'd heard Peter's end of the conversation.

"Yeah, we've got to move now."

Paul pushed the door open and held it for Peter as he hurried through it.

By the time they were on the road, it was rush hour traffic. Five-fifteen in the evening wasn't the best time to go from the precinct to the docks in a hurry. Peter put his siren and lights on, but it still seemed like he was just crawling along. He drove on the sidewalk at one point to get past a cluster of stopped vehicles.

Paul frowned at him. "Relax. We will get there in time."

Peter slammed a hand on the steering wheel. "Five minutes. If I only had another five minutes."

Peter's car radio came alive, startling both men. "Baker-1-9, be advised that Skalany and Griffin are in route and will meet you at your destination."

Peter rolled his eyes and caught Paul watching him. Too bad if Paul thought he was overreacting, Peter didn't care. He was too frustrated. "Great. Better late than never. They can hear the story firsthand of how I wound up missing the snitch all together!"

Paul bit his lip, as if hesitating to speak for fear of upsetting Peter anymore.

The traffic cleared finally and Peter was able to make up some time. "It's about time!"

Paul rubbed the back of his neck. "Peter, if you are meant to meet up with this snitch, you'll get there in time. If not, maybe you weren't."

It was a strange statement coming from Paul and Peter gave him a long sideways glance. "That sounds like something Pop would say."

Paul shrugged. "Well, it's true."

"I know – I know what you're saying, but damn it, Paul. If this snitch comes through, we'll have enough background needed on Cargassachi to lock him away for a very long time, instead of babysitting him in our holding cell."

"That's still a pretty big if," Paul said quietly.

Paul's calming tones had the desired effect on Peter, despite himself. "Okay, maybe so, but we can only hold Gordo Cargassachi for forty-eight hours without official charges being filed. That man is not going to walk. Not while I'm on the case."

Paul nodded, but didn't say anything as they pulled up to the docks.

Peter warily glanced around. With the recent time change, it was pretty dark by then and there weren't a lot of lights at their location. He checked his weapon and he heard Paul doing the same thing.

"Be careful," Peter said as he climbed out of the car.

Paul grunted, probably at Peter's audacity to tell him to be careful.

The two men split up, heading in different directions as Peter made a slow arc toward the designated meet. Paul's earlier comments were now whispering words of warning deep inside Peter's thoughts. Maybe he had been foolish in thinking he could have come alone.

Peter couldn't see any danger, but he *felt* it was near. Hearing the motor of another car, he spun around with his weapon drawn, and saw Skalany and Kermit had arrived. Good, the more the merrier. Peter caught Kermit's eye as he climbed out of the Corvair and Peter gestured with his gun.

The two newly arrived detectives automatically pulled their weapons. Peter lifted the aluminum door to a warehouse that was supposed to have been left open for the meet and found little resistance the door as it rolled up.

To his surprise, Peter found the snitch and several others lying on the floor before him and their weapons tossed into a pile beside them. Peter's mouth dropped open and he stared in disbelief.

Paul came in through the rear entrance. When he saw the group, his mouth fell open, just like Peter's. Peter shrugged, hearing Kermit and Mary Margaret come up behind them.

"What the hell?" Kermit asked, lowering his weapon, glancing to Peter and Paul.

"Wish I knew," Peter replied, awe still ringing in his voice.

There was a slight shift in the breeze and Peter froze for a moment. Turning his head, he saw his father with his hat in his hands.

"Pop, what the hell are you doing here?" Peter asked, taking a few steps forward.

"I sensed you were in imminent danger. I came here and found these men lying in wait for you. They were here to kill you."

Peter's shock grew. "Why me?"

Caine shrugged. "I do not know. I knew only of the danger present, so I eliminated it before you arrived."

Peter started stammering as Kermit called the precinct for a paddy wagon to take away the unconscious criminals. "But – but I was supposed to be here a half hour ago."

Peter's father smiled, but there was lingering fear in his eyes as he approached Peter. "We are always right where we are supposed to be. Fate knows our outcomes far in advance. There are no accidents, no delays that are not meant to happen."

Paul joined them. "You're saying the very delays that had Peter whipped into a frenzy actually saved his life?"

Caine nodded once. Peter's mouth, which was already opened, fell to his chin. Paul whistled softly as he put his hands on his hips while Kermit and Skalany kept a careful watch of the unconscious men, as if one might awaken and make another try for Peter.

Peter began to pace. "What kind of a grudge could they have against me? I don't even know them."

Kermit snorted. "Come on, Peter. It's not that hard to figure out. You've been on a rampage to bring down Gordo Cargassachi. Don't you think his people might get a little irked by that?"

Peter glanced at him and Skalany, and then back at his father. "Are you sure, Pop?"

His father nodded once. "As sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. There is no mistake."

Peter turned to Paul, realization sinking in. "All those delays saved my life?"

Paul pressed his lips together. "Don't question it. Just be grateful, son," he said softly, patting Peter on the back.

*There are no accidents, no delays that are not meant to happen.* His father's words kept echoing in his mind.

The next thing Peter knew, his father was standing right in front of him.

"Believe it, Peter. This is the time of thanksgiving. Perhaps, when we pray over our meal tomorrow, we can be a little more grateful to be alive, because of... delays."

Peter felt a swell of emotion wash over him and he took his father into his arms. Paul patted him on the back once more and then went into action as he heard sirens approaching.

"Kermit, go outside and catch their attention. Skalany, you keep a wary watch on this bunch. I've got to call Annie and tell her I'm going to be a little late getting home tonight."

"As if that will surprise her," Mary Margaret said with a sarcastic grin.

Peter pulled back and looked deeply into his father's eyes. "Thank you. Not just for being here to save my life, but also for being in my life. I don't know how I'd still be alive now without your return in my life, but I'm damned glad you're around."

Caine smiled sweetly and put a hand to Peter's shoulder. "Our lives have been greatly enriched by each other's presence. We have much to be thankful for."

Peter nodded as the warehouse filled with other officers. Peter holstered his weapon after finding it still in his hand and went to work himself. Once the would-be killers were loaded up and headed back to the precinct, Peter looked at Paul.

"How the hell do we write this one up?"

Paul shrugged with a smile sparkling in his blue eyes. "I don't know, but I'm sure you'll come up with something for your report."

"My report?"

"Kermit's going to give me a lift back to the station, so I can get my car and go home. He and Skalany are at the end of their shift. It was your snitch. Your meet. Therefore, your report."

Peter groaned.

"Remember, don't be late for Thanksgiving dinner or you'll have hell to pay with your mother," Paul said with a chuckle as he walked out of the unoccupied warehouse with Kermit and Skalany in tow.

"I will ensure we will not be late," Peter's father called out to him.

Peter glared at him in disgust. "Oh, thanks so much. I suppose you'll help me write this report, too?"

Mischief swept into Caine's expression. "No, I cannot. I have other obligations tonight, but I am sure you will be able to fulfill your duties and join us in thanksgiving tomorrow."

He put on his hat and started walking out of the warehouse, leaving Peter alone.

Peter shouted to his back. "Well, I sure don't feel very thankful right now!"

His father let loose a mischievous laugh, but didn't slow his pace. The forensics team arrived just then and began marking off the crime scene.

"It's gonna be a long night, folks, so move fast," Peter said with a sigh.

He walked over to the team to tell them what he needed, but in the back of his mind, he wondered if this delay was another preordained occurrence. One designed to put him exactly where he was supposed to be, whether he liked it or not.

oOoOoOoOo

The End

"HAPPY THANKSGIVING!"

8