Blue Plate Special

by Marie Goos

After Oogway hires a stranger off the street to cook for Shifu and Tai Lung, things begin to get a little awkward.

36. Epilogue: L'Appetito Vien Mangiando

A/N: Sorry I am ONCE AGAIN late, but had to rewrite this whole thing and it's long... And excuses, excuses. And apparently has decided that my scene separations via dashes no longer deserve to be in the fic, and neither does a question mark belong with an exclamation point, right as I'm finishing up. Nice. Just letting you all know that I have taken notice, and will be fixing all 35 chapters. Eventually. Anyway, here it is... The epilogue, clocking in at nearly 20,000 words. And consequently the last installment of Blue Plate Special.

Disclaimer: Kung Fu Panda doesn't belong to me; if it did there would've been a lot more vagina jokes in it.

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Epilogue: L'Appetito Vien Mangiando

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"I'm getting too old for this crap," Lin muttered to herself as she pressed her hands into the small of her back and stretched, wincing at the sound of her spine cracking. Admittedly, she wasn't that old- compared to the man she was visiting, fifty-five probably seemed spry. Still, arthritis had begun to set into her joints some years ago, especially the joints that had been injured- like her right wrist and elbow. The late summer humidity that hung heavy in the air wasn't helping any, either; that was one aspect of China she certainly hadn't missed. Though she honestly couldn't say London had been any better, but at least she hadn't had to sleep outside. Not most nights, anyway.

She paused to straighten out her clothes a bit (a nice, simple brown set reminiscent of what she'd worn during her last stint in the country), and wondered if he'd even remember her. It had been over three decades since they'd last seen each other, and the way they'd parted had been rushed, for lack of a better term. The moment she'd crossed the border, though, she'd known that he was the first person she wanted to see, before anyone else.

Lin took a deep breath, steeling herself for the inevitable. Then, she knocked on the door and waited. It didn't take long for the door to swing open, and she was face-to-face with a man she hadn't seen since she was a teenager.

"Whatever you're selling, I don't want any." And then he slammed the door in her face.

She rolled her eyes at the old man and knocked again. "Dammit, Chen! Just open the door."

"Who is it?" he called back through the door.

"It's me, you walking fossil! Quan!" She couldn't say she'd expected any different; to be honest, things were going relatively well, by her standards.

"Quan?" The door swung open again and the tiny, wrinkled jerboa on the other side squinted up at her. "Bullshit." And then slammed the door again.

"You crusted old turd!" she snapped, and started banging on the door with her fist. She was aware of the strange looks she was getting from passersby, but ignored them. It was dusk in Shanghai, it wasn't as if seeing someone trying to break into an old man's house was anything out of the ordinary. "You hop your fermented ass back here and open this door! My joints are achy as hell and I ain't sleeping outside in this damp-ass weather again!" She continued pounding on the door, certain that he would relent sooner or later.

"Prove it!" he suddenly called from the other side.

"Prove what? That I'm about to come in there through the window and step on you?"

"Prove that you're Quan!" he clarified, and she couldn't help but let out a snort. It was just like Chen, really; he used to have a password just to let anyone inside his studio.

"Who else would call you a crusted old turd and threaten to step on you?" she pointed out. "And besides, I know how to pick the lock on the kitchen door! I'll get in there on my own sooner or later." To be honest, things were still going better than she'd hoped. She was surprised that he'd even remembered her in the first place.

"Alright, alright," he finally conceded, and at last opened the door and stepped aside to let her in. "Don't throw a hissy fit, now, you witless hag."

"I can already tell this is gonna be a lovely visit." She was at least relieved to get in out of the humidity; she hadn't been kidding about her joints.

Chen's house was just as she remembered it: large and clean as a whistle, and warm. Not warm as in the actual air temperature, but simply the look and feel of the place. It did help that everything, even all the walls and doors, was constructed of wood- much more like a peasant's house. Chen wasn't exactly a peasant, though; he could afford paper screens, but he simply chose to use his money on things he deemed more important. For instance, the entire back half of the first floor that made up his studio. The front half was divided evenly into a sitting room and a kitchen, while the bedrooms were on a second floor, accessible by a single staircase against the wall that divided the sitting room and kitchen.

She'd never asked where Chen's money had come from; he hadn't been born into it, she knew that much. She wasn't even sure if people had begun using currency back when the old man had been born. "So I'm back in China for good," she said, for lack of a better conversation-starter. She would have told him eventually, anyway.

"I'll get the parade started," he grumbled sarcastically, then offered her a seat in one of his rigid wooden chairs; the things had always been uncomfortable as hell, but they were just up Chen's alley.

"What, you ain't happy to see me?" She sat down, anyway, dropping her bags beside her. "I'll have you know you're the first person I came to see, you moldy raisin."

"And believe me, I feel special." He hopped up into his own chair and set his walking stick within easy reach next to him (probably so he could hit her with it if he wanted to). "But after you ran outta town like a coward, I didn't expect to see you back here."

"Let's just say I realized a few things while I was away. I came back to see the people that matter to me most again... Y'know, like my family. And believe it or not, you made the list."

"I'm honored," he grumbled, though she could have sworn that buried beneath the copious amounts of sarcasm she could detect the tiniest note of sincerity.

She paused, sitting awkwardly with him for a couple of seconds before she couldn't help but let all her burning questions spill out. "So whatever happened to Yan-Yan? And you hear anything from Wei-Shan lately? You still write to Oogway, right?"

"I've been fine, thanks," he replied pointedly.

"Fine," she conceded, "how have you been?" She knew he'd only give a perfunctory, completely non-informative answer, which was why she hadn't asked in the first place.

"Same old, same old," he replied.

"Sounds exciting," she grumbled, her sarcastic comment met with a whack from his little stick.

"Alright, keep your pants on, bigshot." He took a moment to glare at her, but she was mostly unaffected. "Yan-Yan got married. She's got three kids now, seven grandkids."

"Seven?" Lin repeated incredulously; Yan-Yan was a year younger than her, way too young to have seven grandchildren.

"Her daughter's prone to twins," Chen explained.

She couldn't help but shudder at the thought of constantly popping out twins. "Eugh."

"Well sorry, I forgot you were always too good for that kinda stuff," he sniped at her, as he'd always tended to do. "Believe it or not, some people actually wanna settle down and have a family of their own."

"I need a drink," she replied, then stood up to head for the kitchen in an attempt to avoid a fight.

"Make mine a beer," he called after her.

She rolled her eyes at the order, but went ahead and poured him a drink, anyway. The kitchen was just as she remembered it, large with just one person in it but cramped with an entire kitchen staff crammed into the room. There was an island that provided some much-needed counter space, though it didn't make maneuvering through the room while dinner was being prepared any easier. The place was currently deserted, so she had no trouble getting to the booze- which was precisely where Chen had kept it thirty-six years ago- and pouring a couple of drinks. "Hey," she called out as she headed back into the sitting room, "remember the time I got into your liquor cabinet and chugged the whole thing?"

"How could I forget?" he grumbled, frowning at the memory. "You threw up everywhere, I had to pay the staff overtime just to get 'em near the mess."

She handed him his beer and flopped down into her chair, grinning at the memory. "Ah, to be fifteen again. Actually, I'd kill myself if I had to be fifteen again. But there were some amusing times."

"Not for me, they weren't."

She resisted the urge to laugh, since she knew he'd probably whack her over the head for it. "It makes me wonder what I missed when I was gone. Y'see, I used to cook at the Jade Palace-"

"I know," he interrupted. "I know the whole sad story- Oogway told me, and lemme tellya, it sure as hell sounded like you. You always were a huge pain in the ass."

"Wow, thanks," she huffed, though she was pleased that he'd at least had some way of knowing she was still alive and kicking. "So what else've you heard from Oogway all these years? I mean, how're Tai Lung and Shifu getting along? Did the kid get that scroll he was always talking about?"

He gave her a look she'd never seen from him, and if she didn't know any better she'd say it was something along the lines of pity. "You mean you didn't hear?"

"Hear what?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "What happened, exactly, that I didn't hear about?" She had the sinking feeling that whatever Chen was about to tell her was going to be bad news.

"I don't know how to put this." He paused and set his drink down, clearing his throat. "Tai Lung's been in prison for the last twenty years."

"...Huh?" She couldn't quite wrap her head around the concept; she still had the picture in her head of that cute, slightly spoiled kid trying so desperately to act grown up. And the idea that the kid would end up in prison... It just didn't seem real.

"Well, first he mastered all thousand scrolls of kung fu," Chen clarified. "Everyone had high hopes for him. I met him, once, up here in Shanghai- they were building a wall around the harbor and needed some muscle to protect it from the pirates. The kid was good, alright, but cocky. And he liked beatin' the crap outta people a little too much, if you ask me- and I said so straight to Oogway, believe me. Turns out he'd been thinking the same things, too. That Shifu, though, didn't see it. Was too proud to see it. When he asked for the Dragon Scroll, Oogway turned him down flat. Then he went on a rampage through the village, destroying everything in sight and killing anyone who got in his way, and tried to take the scroll. Broke Shifu's knee, unfortunately. I ain't ever met anyone who could make a full recovery from an injury like that. Oogway stopped him, of course, and had a prison built for him. The Anvil of Heaven, all one thousand of 'em, guard him now."

"So... So he's imprisoned? For life?"

"Oh, it ain't gonna hold him forever. Oogway knew that from the first moment he stuck Tai Lung in there, but there ain't much else he can do."

Lin's grip on her empty cup tightened as she mulled over everything she had just learned. Throughout Chen's entire explanation, she had been waiting for him to stop and say, "Just kidding!" but that didn't appear to be about to happen. She had expected things to have changed since she'd left, of course- just not like this. "Get me another drink, old man," she ordered, slamming her cup down on the low table between them.

"Take mine," he offered, showing a surprising amount of sympathy.

"Thanks." She grabbed the cup and downed the alcohol in one swig, then slammed that empty cup down as well. "Tell me more about this prison."

"It's called Chor Ghom, and the place is practically a fortress. It's up in the mountains in outer Mongolia, not too far from Wei-Shan's, actually."

"Sounds like I got my next destination," she informed him grimly. "You think you can point it out to me on a map?"

"Yeah, I'll go poke around my records. Pretty sure I got something helpful." Even after so many years apart, he still knew her well enough to give her some time alone, and for that much she was grateful.

She stared across the room at the wall as this new information sunk in. She supposed it had been naive of her to begin with to think she could just come back after thirty-three years to find everyone happy and well. Life was difficult, exhausting, and brutal- even at a place like the Jade Palace. It stood to reason that time would take its toll on them just as much as it had taken its toll on her. The more she had lost in her journey the more she had begun to think of the Valley of Peace as some untouchable place, without the hardship and grief of the rest of the world. That had been stupid of her, and she knew it.

She didn't know what was wrong with her. She had been halfway across the world and back, had seen and done more in the world in three short decades than most people could even fathom, and yet she was still hopelessly clueless. No matter how many losses she faced, each and every one still blind-sided her. Mentors, friends, lovers, children... They had all gone. And she'd remained.

She remembered the moment she'd decided to return to China, three years ago; it still seemed like only yesterday. After she'd spent twelve years building a life for herself, it had all amounted to nothing. The people closest to her had died, one by one, taken by illness and murder. Until it had just been her, her and that stupid drawing she'd held onto for thirty damn years. And it had occurred to her that there was a reason she'd held onto the drawing. The moment she'd reached that conclusion, she'd known what she needed to do. She had sold everything and burned all her bridges, just to ensure that she would never turn back. Sure, she'd stayed a bit longer than planned in India, but she had made it to Shanghai eventually.

She'd made it as far as Shanghai, only to face the harsh reality that the perfect little family she remembered was just that: a memory. The people she loved weren't real people anymore, they were only memories. They had changed so much over time that they might as well have been strangers- just as she'd changed. For the first time since she'd set out on her journey, she was beginning to wonder whether it was a good idea to return to the Valley of Peace.

"Here, I gotya a map with Chor Ghom on it- well, it ain't marked as such, but you can tell what it is from the 'beware' and 'danger' labels written all over the area." Chen hopped back into the room with a scroll that was about three times his size, comically enough. Still, it wasn't enough to cheer her up.

"D'you think I should go?" she asked as she took the scroll from him and unrolled it; he'd been right about all the "danger" labels, which were written in bold over the Tavan Bogd mountain range far to the north.

"That ain't my call and you know it," he replied harshly, then gave her a whack over the head with his little walking stick. "You just want me to say 'no' so you got a reason to puss out."

"Yeah, you're right," she admitted, though the reply also gave her a little hope; after three and a half decades apart, Chen still knew her well enough to see right through her. And he still called her on her nonsense without hesitation, just as he always had. "The more things change, the more they stay the same," she pointed out.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Tell me more about this business with Tai Lung." She might as well glean as much information as possible from Chen- out of everyone in China she could possibly ask on the subject short of the people involved in the incident, he probably knew the most.

"What else is there to tell?" He jumped back up into his seat and settled down. "Oogway saw darkness in Tai Lung, so he wasn't fit to see the Dragon Scroll. Them's the rules. And not even Shifu would try to bend the rules when Oogway's the one laying 'em down."

Lin decided not to inquire as to how, precisely, Shifu could ever be considered the type of person who bent rules. "So Tai Lung freaked out and rampaged."

"Yep. And he got sentenced to life in prison, so they carted him off."

She still had trouble believing that the little boy who had once been so desperate to become a hero had become a man capable of crimes so heinous that his own family would send him to prison. "And that's it? He's just... Been there ever since?"

"He sure has," Chen confirmed.

"And no one's... Visited him or anything? No appeals for parole?" She could tell from the way Chen raised his formidable eyebrows at the questions that they had never even been considerations for anyone involved.

"Trust me, if you had seen what that kid did, you wouldn't be so sympathetic." He shook his head, apparently remembering the rampage. "I saw the aftermath- they were still doing repairs when I visited about a month later. I gotta say, it made me wonder if it was even okay to let one person get so powerful."

"I see." Whether she was able to believe it or not, Tai Lung had obviously done some terrible things. "How'd Oogway and Shifu take it?"

"You know Oogway," he dismissed with a snort. "That old jackass always acts like he knows everything, always trying to be all wise and mystical. All he ever did was act like there was some lesson to be learned from Tai Lung's example. I know better 'an to believe that act, though- he was crushed, just like anyone else would be."

"...And Shifu?" She prompted.

"Same, I'd imagine. Heard he turned into an even bigger miserable asshole 'an he already was. It sure as hell didn't soften him- he's still known as the worst hardass ever to teach kung fu, not that he actually is- if you ask me, people have pretty low standards for that kinda thing nowadays."

She could sense that he was beginning to digress, so she jumped in to stop him. "Wait a minute- Shifu still teaches?"

"Yeah, he's got these five students that're known all over China as the greatest kung fu warriors ever. People call 'em- and get ready for this little gem of inventiveness- the Furious Five." He rolled his eyes as he repeated the name of the group of fighters. "Bunch of flashy young people- y'know, there's more to kung fu 'an flipping around and getting famous. Bah, people these days got no dignity. I guess that's what you get when the best teacher in all of China's a fat little badger with a gimpy leg."

"I thought you liked Shifu."

"Eh," he replied with a shrug. "I ain't made up my mind yet. He's no Oogway, though, that's for sure."

"Well, why would you compare him to- Ohhhh!" Lin blinked down at her former mentor, wondering if she was reading too much into that statement or not. "You saying he's gonna replace Oogway or something?"

"What, you didn't know?" He shook his head, hunching over even more than he already did naturally as he apparently contemplated the arrangement. "That makes two people in all of China- you and the dough boy himself. Oogway's always had that in mind, though, from the moment he found that neurotic dumpling in the middle of the forest."

"Heh." She was somewhat cheered up by the image of a juvenile Shifu, with a big, dumpling-shaped head and a sour expression on his face. "Well, on the bright side, everyone's still alive," she pointed out.

"How optimistic of you."

She snorted and leaned back in her seat as a craving for tobacco began to niggle at the back of her mind. "You don't really dislike Shifu and his students, do you?"

"Feh," Chen replied, which was probably a "no." "If you ask me, there's just something that Shifu's missing. He's the kinda guy who just doesn't get it. Y'get me?"

"Oh, I get you," she confirmed, then began fishing around in her bag for a pipe and some tobacco. "Anyway, I got a lot to do before I head back to the Valley of Peace." Not to mention a lot to think about- but she knew herself well enough to know that the full gravity of the events that had occurred in her absence wouldn't hit her until she was able to see for herself. She dreaded her trip to see Tai Lung already, more than she remembered dreading anything in recent years. However, it had to be done, more for her own sake than anything else. She pulled out the heavy mahogany calabash pipe that had been her companion and a source of comfort since it had been given to her, along with some tobacco, and began to stuff it. "So," she finally muttered as she lit her pipe, "you said Wei-Shan lives near this Chor Ghom place?"

---

It was a clear, cold night in the mountains and the moonlight glinted off the snow, causing it to sparkle like crystal. The mountain was desolate, devoid of life- though the lack of inhabitants made the night all the more peaceful. The tranquility of that night, however, was soon interrupted as a dark figure sprinted through the mountains on all fours, kicking up snow and dirt as primal rage propelled it through the night.

Tai Lung breathed deeply, relishing his first breaths of fresh air in twenty years. He had been running since his triumphant escape from Chor Ghom, barely noticing his surroundings, his eyes fixed on one thing and one thing only: the horizon. He had spent twenty years mulling over precisely how he was going to get his hands on the Dragon Scroll, a boon which was rightfully his, and he wasn't about to waste any time by hesitating in his journey back to the Valley of Peace. Soon everyone who had once doubted him- that old fool of a turtle, those mindless villagers, and especially Shifu- would see what he was truly capable of. Soon all of China would bow to him. He opened his mouth to let out a primal roar- only to hear the loud growl of his empty stomach instead.

He would have liked to run straight to the Valley of Peace, but it was a two weeks' journey at least, and he could not remember the last time he'd eaten in Chor Ghom. He would have to eat at some point along the way, certainly, but up in the mountains there was nothing but snow, ice, and sheer rock face. Or rather, normally there was.

As if the gods themselves had heard his stomach's plea, he caught sight of the glow of a campfire from the corner of his eye. Without a second thought he veered toward the fire, where a hapless traveler most certainly awaited with something to sate his hunger. In fact, whoever happened to be puttering around that campsite should feel honored to aid him in his quest. He would have told that to the old man who greeted him with a rock to the head and a shouted obscenity that was lost on the wind, but he found he was able to communicate his point much more effectively by taking hold of the tiny, cloaked figure's throat with one hand and squeezing. He assumed the person was an old man, anyway, judging by the sizable humpback underneath his cloak; that was the only indicator, seeing as the traveler had his hood drawn tightly over his head and face to protect him from the bitter cold, obscuring his features.

The peasant had the audacity to kick at him and try to say something, and Tai Lung shook the old man with a snarl. tightening his grip. In the process the old man's hood fell back, and what Tai Lung saw underneath it startled him so badly that he actually dropped his prey and leaped backwards. He watched as the old woman gasped and coughed in the snow, then managed to hoist herself back up to her feet.

"Christ, kid, I almost pooped right in my pants," she wheezed, rubbing at her neck. Her voice was gravelly and phlegmy, as if she were a chain smoker. though that might have just been due to the recent strangling. However, knowing her, she probably was a smoker.

"Lin," he breathed, still dumbfounded. The chances that she'd be anywhere near China, let alone directly in his path toward the Valley of Peace, were astronomical. And yet there she was, old and withered; she looked as if she were nearing the end of her sixties, rather than in her mid-fifties. "You!" he finally choked out.. "You!"

"Yeah, me," she agreed, raising her eyebrows at him as she readjusted her cloak and he realized that what he had earlier mistaken as a humpback was in fact her sizable tail. "Hey, you got pretty big, there. Lemme guess- you're hungry, and you wanna steal my food." She actually turned her back on him, and started digging through a bag next to the fire she'd built; she seemed to be traveling a bit heavier than he remembered, but her other packages were of no concern to him. "The good news is that I got plenty of food. The bad news- for you, anyway- is that it needs to be cooked." She pulled an armful of potatoes out of her bag and grinned at him, as if they were old friends. "Hope you like starch!"

His anger had been mounting through her entire speech, but that grin, that casual smile, as if the last time they had seen each other was just yesterday- that sent him off the edge. Tai Lung let out a murderous, blood-curtling roar and sent both his fists hurtling into the frozen ground. The shock waves knocked Lin off her feet and sent snow flying everywhere. He extended his claws and stalked toward her, baring his teeth menacingly. "You dare think that after all these years- after you left me, after you abandoned me- you can act as if you never did anything?" he shouted, towering over her. "You honestly think that you can treat me with such disrespect? Do you even have any idea what I have been through?"

Lin, even after that ferocious display, still had the nerve to act totally unintimidated. She simply stood up and brushed herself off.

Tai Lung felt his fur bristle, and he raised his claws high above his head, snarling. "Say something!"

"Sorry," she replied simply.

He blinked down at her, so confused by her response that he lowered his arm a little bit. "What?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I dunno what else to say. I did leave you behind. And I do know what you've been through. And I'm sorry."

He continued to stare blankly at her. He remembered those carefree days, all those years ago, and he remembered how much he'd looked up to her, how much he'd cared for her. And he remembered how she'd tossed his affection aside for Shifu's, how she'd just left, like he'd never even mattered in the first place. "Sorry?" he asked quietly, his lip curling. "Sorry?" He raised his voice again, unable to contain his anger. "That's all you have to say!"

"Yeah," she replied, still acting totally calm. "And I was also hoping that you'd let me feed you."

"That's it?" He was once again perplexed by her total lack of reaction to him.

"That's it." She leaned down and started to pick up the potatoes she'd dropped. "I got some leeks, too. They're good with potatoes."

"You seriously just want to feed me?" He finally lowered his arm to his side and detracted his claws. "I could have gutted you alive by now!"

"So?" She picked up a stick and stoked her fire with it; it was a miracle that the fire was still burning, actually. "I'm knocking on death's door anyway, and if you're the one to kill me I'll at least have deserved it."

"You're dying?" It made sense to him now, seeing her there. She had probably returned to China in some last ditch effort to gain peace or clarity or some equally asinine emotional reason.

"Not quickly, but still. I think I got about ten years, tops. Probably more like five. You want tea?"

"What are you dying from?" he asked, ignoring her question. "Do you have a disease?"

She just shrugged. "Oh, it's lotsa things- people like me don't generally last too long. Frankly, I think I'm already way past my life expectancy. You mind if I smoke?" She pulled a pipe out of her sleeve, but he supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised by it.

"Go ahead." He sat down heavily in front of the fire, staring balefully into it. Seeing Lin like that just made him feel so old.

"So you escaped from prison," she started, and he looked up to see that she'd already stuffed and lit her pipe while he was distracted. "Was it hard?" She pulled a knife out of her bag and started slicing up her leeks.

Tai Lung wasn't sure how to respond to the question; it was the last thing he'd ever expected to be asked, especially by someone who actually knew him. "No," he answered shortly, watching her slice leeks.

"Ah, it never is when you actually get around to it. You're probably better at it 'an I am, anyway, with the kung fu and all." She was slicing much more slowly than he remembered her doing so when he was a child; she had probably developed arthritis over the years. "Heard you mastered all the scrolls of kung fu, by the way- what was it again? A thousand?"

"Yes, one thousand," he confirmed, and despite himself his chest puffed out a bit with pride.

She nodded. "Thought you would."

"Why?" He'd only been seven the last time she'd seen him, so he didn't see how she could have foreseen such a thing. He hated to admit it, but he hadn't quite been the same great warrior as a child.

"Well, you said you would." She picked up a potato, cut it open, and started stuffing leek slices into it. "And I'm guessing that you're headed on back to get that scroll of yours, now."

He blinked down at her, a strange numbness spreading through his body at the shock of what she'd said to him. She had called the Dragon Scroll his scroll. She was the first person since Oogway had rejected him to actually acknowledge that the scroll was rightfully his.

"Anyway," she went on, apparently oblivious to how that statement had struck him, "lookit you!" She let out a bark of laughter and slapped her knee, and he highly suspected that had he been within her reach she would have pinched his cheeks. "With your little mustache-whiskers and everything! I just can't get over it, y'know? You're forty."

"Eugh," he grumbled at the reminder.

"And what's with that accent? What'd you just make that up to impress the ladies and then it stuck?" She was quickly negating the good favor her previous statement about the Dragon Scroll had earned her.

"I could kill you with one finger," he reminded her darkly, and he would not be opposed to doing so, either- especially if she kept up with her taunting.

"And like I said, I would die without regrets." She stuck her knife into the wood at the edge of the fire and pushed it aside, then dug a shallow hole in the exposed ground, tossed the potatoes in, and covered them with the burning wood again. "Well, we got about half an hour 'til those're done. Whaddaya wanna talk about?"

"Nothing," he replied. "And I have half a mind to eat those potatoes raw. Thirty minutes?"

"Yep," she confirmed. "I don't see what your rush is. The Valley of Peace ain't going anywhere."

"Perhaps not, but I have not talked to anyone in twenty years, and if you don't mind I do have some pressing business to take care of." He glared darkly into the fire as he contemplated his vengeance, and just how close at hand it was.

"Oh, half an hour ain't gonna hurt anything. It'll takeya weeks to get back to the valley from here, anyway." She momentarily took the pipe from her mouth and let out a heavy sigh, blowing some rather fragrant smoke along with it. "God, this moisture's killer on the joints."

"What are you smoking, precisely?" He waved the smoke away from himself as quickly as he could, but he was still treated to an irritating face-full of the stuff.

"Tobacco, of course! This look like an opium pipe to you? Never mind, don't answer that- I can already tell you got no idea what one of those looks like." She picked up her stick and stoked the fire again. "It's a blend I only ever found in Bombay, but damn is it good. My favorite."

"Then shouldn't you try to save it?"

She let out a throaty cackle at the question. "Save it for what? What's the point in not using something 'cause you're afraid you'll run outta it? You'll end up not using it either way, and then it just goes to waste. I'm too old to be saving the good stuff for later."

"I sincerely hope you are not trying to impress a life lesson into me with your nonsensical babbling," he grumbled; he certainly wouldn't put it past her. "I have no need for it."

"Oh, certainly not," she agreed amiably. "You got your life all planned out, and nothing's gonna stopya. I know that whole song and dance by now."

He eyed her suspiciously for that one; she was definitely trying to put one over on him. "Precisely what are you implying?"

"Nothing. It's just one more thing you and I got in common." She paused as she pulled a flask out from under her cloak and shook it up a little. "I always thought we were a lot alike." She took a swig from the flask, then offered it to him. "Drink?"

"No," he answered flatly, glaring at her as she drank, the smug old hag. "You think you are so smart, don't you?" he accused, and in response she shrugged.

"Yeah, I kinda do," she confirmed. "You're just noticing now?"

"This is not a joke!" he snapped back, standing up to loom menacingly over her. "I am not a joke!"

"I never said you were. I dunno what you are, to be honest."

"I am the Dragon Warrior," he growled, his fur bristling; her roundabout answers were really getting on his nerves. "The true Dragon Warrior!"

"Okay," she agreed casually. "I know better 'an to try to argue with all these kung fu things I don't understand."

"As well you should know your place." He crossed his arms and glowered at her, something that would have paralyzed anyone else with fear.

She just leaned over and poked at the fire with her stick. "Awful rude way to talk to someone who's feeding you, isn't it?"

He wanted to strangle her on the spot, and he would have if it hadn't been for the sudden growling of his stomach. She had a point about the food. "The only reason you are not dead right now is those potatoes," he informed her.

"Whatever you say," she maddeningly dismissed. "So what's the plan for after you get the Dragon Scroll?"

"I will finally be recognized as the great hero I truly am, obviously."

"Oh, okay," she agreed easily, though he doubted there was any sincerity in the reply.

"Mock me one more time, old woman," he threatened, "and I will not hesitate to rip your throat out, potatoes or no potatoes."

"Uhp, sorry," she replied, again with a complete lack of sincerity.

"Oh, hang the potatoes!" He was just about to leap over the fire and beat her to a bloody pulp when she said something that made him stop in his tracks, he was so flabbergasted she'd even mention it.

"So whatever happened to those sprouts?" she asked conversationally as she poked at the fire again. "While we're on the subject of produce."

"W-what?"

"Y'know, the sprouts from that vegetable garden we started together. Didya ever get 'em to grow? Get any good food from 'em?"

"Yes, but why would you ever want to know that?" He was still a bit shocked by the question.

"'Cause you were upset that I didn't even notice the sprouts."

At that statement he realized something very important, which explained why she seemed so frustratingly unintimidated by him. She didn't see a great kung fu master or a menacing criminal before her- instead she saw nothing more than a seven-year-old boy. A seven-year-old boy who liked to garden, no less. Gods, he had been a pansy. "Give me those potatoes," he ordered immediately after reaching said epiphany.

"They ain't done yet," she protested, her voice taking on a whiney tinge that he found downright sickening.

He honestly didn't understand how he had ever been able to stand the woman for even a moment. He must have been an idiot as a child, on top of being a pansy. "I do not care," he spat. "Food is food, and you've held me up long enough as it is."

"You sure?" she pressed, most likely unaware of how much she was wearing at his tolerance. "You're gonna hafta sleep, too, eventually."

"Forget it." He shuddered at the thought of spending a night alongside her. "Dig up the potatoes, hand them over, and I will be on my way."

"I don't see what the rush is," she muttered as she grabbed her knife to dig out his dinner. "You sure you don't want a drink before you go?"

"Absolutely not." The last thing he needed was alcohol to cloud his judgement.

"More for me, then." She sounded rather pleased at the thought, as well. "Too bad, too. It warmsya right up, from the inside out." She pushed the potatoes out into the snow with her knife, then reached into her seemingly bottomless bag for a rag, which she wrapped the root vegetables in. "Don't eat 'em too fast, you'll get gas pockets."

"Thank you for the sage advice," he grumbled sarcastically, then swiped the little package from her hands.

"You sure you don't want anything else? Some tea, maybe?"

"Stop offering me things!" he growled, resisting the urge to hit her. "I do not want anything aside from these potatoes! Do you understand? I have the potatoes now, and now I am leaving."

"Okay," she sighed. "Be careful."

He pinched the bridge of his nose in consternation at the absolutely worthless warning. "Don't follow me."

She snorted at the order, raising her eyebrows. "You really think I'd even try?"

He supposed she had a point there. It wasn't as if she had ever done anything that was not part of her own agenda. "You were lucky tonight," he reminded her. "If we meet again, don't count on your luck to last."

"Duly noted." She had the nerve to actually sound amused at him.

"And one more thing-" He paused when she reached inside her mouth and with a disgusting sucking noise pulled out half of her teeth, which had apparently been wooden dentures. "-Gross."

"If I don't take 'em out now they might freeze to my gums in the night," she explained, which only made him want to vomit all the more. "Anyway, that's what happens when you get musket-whipped in the face."

"Enough!" he snapped, his patience for her gone. "Goodbye, and may our paths never cross again- ever!"

"Y'know, now that you said that we're definitely gonna meet again," she called out after him as he turned his back on her and ran as fast as possible.

He didn't reply, for fear of being sucked into more irritating conversation. He had to admit, that if he was given a choice between spending another moment of his life alongside her, or going straight back to Chor Ghom... He just might pick the latter.

---

Lin coughed loudly into her fist, then hacked up a sizable amount of phlegm, which she spat into the snow. "Damn idiot, living in the middle of nowhere," she grumbled to herself as she trekked up the mountain toward a tiny house visible in the distance, nestled in a nook on the mountainside so perfect in size and shape that it looked like it had been carved specifically for the structure. It probably had been, actually.

She paused for a breather and contemplated the events of the other night- she was still a little shocked that she had run into Tai Lung. Or rather, that he had run into her at full speed and attempted to strangle her to death. He definitely hadn't turned out how she'd expected, though she should have known better at her age to expect anything but the unexpected. At least he hadn't gone completely bat-shit crazy, as she had feared... Only about halfway there. He didn't seem to have much of a sense of humor anymore, either. His new attitude reminded her a lot of Shifu, aside from the whole murderous rage thing.

As she struggled through the waist-deep snow, she contemplated precisely why she had returned to China. Of course she had imagined returning to the Valley of Peace to spend her remaining years alongside the family she had once belonged to... Not that there was any possibility of that anymore, what with the way things had turned out. If the news of Tai Lung's incarceration hadn't sewn some doubts in her mind about returning to the valley, then their clandestine meeting certainly had. However, she knew she was only making excuses.

She was over-thinking her life again. There was no need to question her motives or reconsider her goal; she wanted to go back to the Valley of Peace, so she was going to go back to the Valley of Peace, no matter what. Right after this one last visit, of course.

At last, she reached the front door of the house, huffing and puffing as she attempted to wipe the caked-on snow off her clothes. She was pretty sure that she was in the middle of a hot flash, too, but she did her best to ignore it and knocked on the door. She could hear someone moving around inside, yet he didn't seem in too much of a hurry to let her in, so she gave the door another loud rap. After the second time, though, the door opened about halfway with a creak, and the house's owner blinked back at her, looking rather shocked.

Wei-Shan didn't seem to have changed a whole lot, from what she could see of him. He'd always had a youthful air about him, probably having something to do with the theory that a man was only as old as he felt. Of course he had more wrinkles showing through his thick white fur, his glasses were thicker than ever, magnifying his blue eyes, and he'd definitely passed the spring of his life long ago... But he looked pretty good for an eighty-six year old man.

"Quan?" He squinted at her through his gigantic glasses, still hesitating to let her in. "It can't be."

"Don't pull a freakin' Chen on me," she huffed, and simply forced the door open and marched into his nice, warm house.

Wei-Shan had always been a bit of a pushover, so he let her do so without complaint. "It is you!"

"Yep, it's me." She had to admit, she was a lot more happy to see him than she thought she'd be. All of her memories of the man were overshadowed by the painful adolescent crush she'd had on him, and to be honest she'd been afraid that seeing him might make her feel like a child all over again. However, that was not the case. "And from what I can tell, you ain't blind yet."

"You haven't changed a bit," he complimented.

"Maybe I spoke too soon."

"You know it's just a saying." He indicated a round table in the back of his one-room cottage, next to the small wood-burning stove. "Have a seat, I'll put on some water for tea."

"Thanks." She took a look around the room as she dropped her various luggage on the floor and sat in one of the two chairs at the table. The cottage was about twice as long as it was wide, and just as cluttered with various scrolls, codexes, emptied ink bottles, scraps of copper and paper, and probably every quill and brush he'd ever owned as his house in Shanghai had been. Of course the walls were lined with bookshelves in every space possible- so pretty much everywhere except for near the stove, for obvious reasons. While the back half of the cottage was more of a kitchen area, the front was clearly a workspace, a writing desk and comfortable-looking reading chair against one wall and a surprisingly small printing press against the other- probably homemade. The bed, meanwhile, was in a small loft area over the writing desk, accessible by ladder. "I call dibs on the bed."

"I should have known," he replied, shaking his head. "You're not the only one around here with arthritis."

"What tipped you off on that, the creaking of my joints or the fact that I can only bend at a twenty degree angle?" she huffed sarcastically. "And I'm the guest. Where d'you expect me to sleep?"

"Wherever you want to." He started rummaging in one of the two small cabinets he had bolted to the wall over the stove, and pulled out a rather meagre stash of tea. "But you should know in advance that I will be sleeping in the bed. If you want to share, that's fine with me."

"I don't share a bed with a man unless I'm screwing him," she replied shortly, amused that even at his age he was still embarrassed enough to drop his tea leaves everywhere. "I guess I can make an exception for you, though."

"You're not kidding, are you?"

She ignored the question and instead changed the subject. "So why d'you live all the way up here?" For some reason, the idea of going into any sordid details about her love life with him made her uncomfortable. She chalked it up to the childhood crush and left it at that.

"I like the cold weather and I'm difficult to find," he answered with a shrug. "There isn't much more to it than that. The real question here is: why did you show up out of nowhere after so many years?"

"It's a long story," she dismissed, exhausted at the mere thought of going through the long explanation of her circumstances with him. "I'll tellya after I've had a good, long rest."

"Alright," he agreed, then raised his eyebrows at her. "Does it have anything to do with your lady love?"

"Oh for the love of- you know about that?" she huffed, disgruntled by the joke about her past.

"Your stay at the Jade Palace isn't exactly the big secret you apparently think it is," he pointed out, grinning a little at her reaction. "Chen and I have been writing back and forth for years- I'm not the wanted man I once was, so there's no real danger in our communication. Not that my record has been expunged, that is. I've simply been forgotten. Anyway, Master Oogway told Chen, Chen told me..."

"And you sent out a country-wide bulletin," she commented sarcastically, then crossed her arms.

"While that would have been amusing, I doubt anyone in existence would have cared." That particular jab had been a low blow. "Besides, most people still think you're a man."

Lin perked up a little bit at the suggestion that there were actually people out there who knew who she was. "Whaddaya mean?" She supposed it may have seemed vain, but seeing as an artist's career was built mainly on reputation, she felt justified in showing such an interest.

He seemed to know very well what she had in mind. "You're not terribly famous," he amended. "Though most artists know of your work and your years as a student of Chen's and mine. And there's that portrait of Oogway-"

"Oh no," she groaned, slapping a palm to her forehead, then dragging her hand down her face in utter humiliation. "That awful thing?" She didn't have fond memories of any of her old work, and while the painting of Oogway had been alright in its technical execution, the last thing she wanted to be known for was portraiture.

"Don't worry, your years as a social outcast are known as well," he reassured, letting out an amused snort at her concern. "Although since your alleged disappearance, it has generally been accepted in academic circles that you were indeed male. Your stint living at the Jade Palace had its impact, though- your adoption of the moniker 'Lin' has resulted in your name somehow morphing into Quan Li."

"Just what I always wanted," she grumbled.

"And anyone who knows anything about you, though I stress once again that their numbers are few," he added, "also knows that a large chunk of your body of work is housed there."

"I'm gonna kill Oogway when I get back down there," she growled, gritting her teeth at the thought of... Well, pretty much everything Wei-Shan had just told her. "Him and Chen, and you."

"Good call, that was mostly our work. Though you should know that we generally referred to you as a woman, so don't go blaming me for the whole man thing."

"Wow, I feel so much better now," she replied flatly as she glared at him.

"I just want to say that I find your lack of gratitude unsurprising," he shot back. "You finally have status as a master artist, and all you can do is complain sarcastically."

"That tea water's been boiling for a while." She watched as he rushed to take the water off the heat and start steeping the tea, shaking her head. She'd forgotten how endearing his habitual forgetfulness and genuine friendliness could be, and obviously he had remembered her fondly if he'd done such a thing for her. "So I think I'm gonna stick around and visit for a little while."

"Oh? Did you do that with Chen?" He raised his eyebrows, as if he thought it was possible to guilt her.

"That's different," she dismissed, and at his quizzical look elaborated. "Chen's more like a parent to me. And everyone knows that it is a rare and brave soul who can stand his parents for more 'an two minutes."

"You do make a valid point," he accepted. "But you do know you'll have to visit more often now, don't you?"

"Oh, I know," she replied, wincing as she imagined spending holidays with Chen nagging her half to death. "So, you sure you don't mind a visitor?"

"Why not? It tends to get a little lonely up here, anyway."

"Good." She took the first step toward settling in and pulled her pipe out of her bag. "You don't mind if I smoke, right?"

"Would it really matter if I did?" he sighed.

She laughed at the question- it reminded her of old times, even though it was somewhat depressing to have aged enough to be able to look fondly back on "old times."

"Nope, it wouldn't matter one bit."

---

A month passed by companionably, and Wei-Shan refrained from asking Lin anything about why she wanted to stay so long, which suited her perfectly. If she were being brutally honest with herself (which she tried to do as often as possible). it was because she was a coward, plain and simple. She hadn't survived as long as she had with bravery, though, so she tried not to sneer at the trait. Still, she would be lying if she said she hadn't fully expected Tai Lung to kill her the night they had serendipitously crossed paths. She was actually pretty surprised that he hadn't. So when he told her not to follow him, she listened. She had begun to wonder what had happened upon his return to the Valley of Peace- whether he had taken the Dragon Scroll by force as planned, or whether Shifu and Oogway had managed to stop him. Either way, the outcome would be unbearably depressing.

She felt guilty about staying as far away as possible, though she didn't see how she could have been of any help to anyone. Sure, she owned a musket, but she wasn't going to go around shooting people she considered family, no matter what they'd done. And getting killed wasn't going to help matters any, either. Besides, she was also afraid of the reaction she could receive. She knew Oogway would only be too happy to see her again, but what if Shifu reacted to her return the way Tai Lung had? She wasn't sure if she was quite ready for that kind of rejection.

So, she'd stayed with Wei-Shan. It hadn't been wasted time, either- they'd caught up, for one. Apparently he'd been hiding out in the mountains basically for the past thirty-six years. And they had shared many lively discussions on modern art, printing techniques, politics- everything under the sun. They'd done some collaborations, as well, though she wasn't as good at working with others as she had been in her youth. There had been other perks, of course, not that she was terribly concerned with perks when it came to visiting an old friend. All in all, it had been a pretty good month.

And then she got a much-needed kick in the ass, in the form of a letter from Chen. The letter came for Wei-Shan, actually, by way of messenger goose, upon whom she shoved as much food and tea as he would accept before taking flight again. And while she normally would have read his mail as if it belonged to her, she was busy with dinner (a variety of roots dug up and boiled to make a soup). When she paused in her cooking, though, she finally noticed the grim expression on Wei-Shan's face. "What?"

"The letter," he replied, then set it aside on the eating table.

"What's it say?"

He hesitated a moment, then looked up at her with a forlorn sigh. "Oogway's dead."

She thought for a moment she'd heard him wrong, but from the way he was looking at her, she doubted it. "...What?" She had traveled so far, had gotten so close to the Valley of Peace, and Oogway had gone and kicked it before she'd even gotten there.

"Tai Lung, too, apparently," he added.

She'd known that much had been a distinct possibility, of course, but that didn't make the news any easier to swallow. The moment the words left Wei-Shan's mouth, she burst into tears.

His reaction was predictably awkward. "Holy- what the- what are you doing? Are you alright- what is this?"

"It's called crying, dumbass!" she snapped, annoyed at his reaction. Granted, she normally didn't cry in front of other people, and even in private it was a rare occurrence for her... But it had just suddenly come over her, as if she'd been hit by a brick. "It's what happens when people get news like this."

"I just- I've never seen you cry before."

"Will you just tell me what happened?" She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, though it wasn't much help. "I mean, gimme some details."

"Well, apparently Oogway told Shifu it was his time, and he ascended with the peach blossoms or something..." He paused when he caught sight of how she was glaring at him; apparently he'd gotten the message that she didn't appreciate the lack of emotion in his description. "Sorry. Anyway, Tai Lung went back to the valley to take the Dragon Scroll... And the Dragon Warrior performed the Wuxi finger hold on him. There was no trace of him after that. He's presumed dead."

Lin groped behind her until she felt a chair, then plopped down into it. "I must be the only person in all of China who isn't celebrating, huh?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

She didn't even bother to glare at him for that one; what else did she expect from a man who'd lived alone for over thirty years? Not to mention a man who had been so socially inept to begin with. "I'd tellya to leave me alone for a while, but in order to do that you'd hafta venture outside into the freezing cold," she sniffed, then gave her eyes another swipe with her sleeve as she tried to get her tears under control. "Ah, what'm I saying? Leave me alone."

"I'll go sit in the corner," he compromised, then headed for his desk.

"No need," she stopped him. "I gotta get some fresh air, anyway."

"Well I was going to sit in the corner, anyway."

"Your concern for me is overwhelming." She grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders as she headed out into the deep snow; she'd spent a month living in the same room as the man and yet she still had no clue what was going through his head most of the time. She'd lived with much worse offenders than him, of course- she briefly recalled one of the closest friends she'd had while living in London, and his irritating habit of interrupting whatever she'd happened to be doing at the time for some stupid reason, apparently under the assumption that she could drop everything to listen to him complain about politics or go out drinking. It had been a few years since she'd been that close to someone, and she missed it.

As was her habit, she was thinking about more comforting times to distract herself from her emotional distress- which wasn't good, because she wouldn't be able to properly go through the grieving process if she simply diverted her attention. She had learned over time that it was better to simply acknowledge her feelings and get the embarrassing part over with- preferably in private. Luckily it was a clear night with a full moon out, and the wind wasn't strong enough to knock her over, so conditions were as good as they were going to get in the mountains for a walk... And a cry. After all, after she'd come so far, two of the people she'd wanted to be with the most were dead.

She couldn't help but once again wonder if there was even a point in going back to the Jade Palace, anymore. Oogway was definitely dead, and Tai Lung was probably dead- even if he wasn't, he'd become so jaded and angry that he'd sooner kill her than look at her. Then there was Shifu: he had six students, all of them the greatest warriors in China, and one of them that Dragon Warrior he'd always wanted to train. It wasn't as if she would be welcome, or wanted. Everything had changed. She had changed. What had she even expected in the first place, when she'd decided to return? Had she just, in a fit of loneliness and insecurity, been desperate to reclaim a part of her past that over the years had become increasingly idealized in her own mind? Had she wanted to relive her youth? Had she wanted to relive her fond memories? The answers to all those questions were probably yes, and they were all terrible reasons. It was a horrible thing to be constantly looking back, to live in the past. She needed to live in the present, as well as look forward to her future. And that was what she had told herself her entire life, yet she had always, always had the past on her mind. Every single day she had thought about them, every child she saw had reminded her of Tai Lung and every man she'd ever been with she'd compared to Shifu. And for thirty-three years, the hollow ache of a broken heart had never dulled. Not even a little bit.

She had done her best to forget, but it had apparently never been good enough. She certainly didn't regret the course her life had taken, and she wouldn't trade it for the world. If she were given a second chance to make that choice between staying in the Valley of Peace and leaving, she would have still picked the latter, without hesitation. But she had never been able to let go- the well-worn drawing of Shifu, Oogway, and Tai Lung sitting together that she'd kept safe was proof enough of that. She couldn't keep on living in the past, though- she needed to accept the present. But she also knew, as she had known from the moment she'd decided to haul her ass back to China, that her future was at the Jade Palace. After all, there would always be a place for her there.

And there still was a point in going back. Tai Lung was gone. Oogway was gone. But Shifu was still there, and probably neurotic as ever.

And despite the fact that it was absurd, that she knew she was only fixating on a memory, she still loved him, as much as she ever had. That was reason enough to go back. She'd faltered for a lot of reasons, but she couldn't deny that the one that had kept her at bay for so painfully long was also the most shameful: she was terrified of rejection. Surely no one else on the face of the planet was insane enough to hold a torch for someone they'd known for three months as long as she had, including Shifu. There was no way he still had feelings for her. There was a distinct possibility he didn't even remember her fondly. Maybe he didn't remember her at all. And maybe there was someone else in his life already, someone prettier than she was, someone warmer and nicer and... Better. Maybe he had someone he loved, more than he'd ever loved her.

But maybe, just maybe, he was available. Maybe he remembered her fondly. And maybe he would want her friendship, if nothing else.

Those remote possibilities were what she was banking one. They were all she had left. She didn't hold out for the possibility that he could have been even remotely as obsessive as she had been. She wasn't sure she would even want that. It was sick, really, how emotionally loyal she had been to him over the years. Men had come and gone, flings and actual relationships alike, and some had even attempted to commit to her. But she had never wavered, even for a moment, in her devotion. She had wanted to- she simply hadn't been able. The truth had always been plain and simple to her: as long as she remained in love with him, she would never be able to fall in love with anyone else. And she had never fallen out of love.

She knew the man she loved didn't exist anymore, though. The man she loved hadn't existed for over thirty years. He was nothing more than a memory, and a heavily idealized one, at that. She fished around in her robe for a minute and pulled out the little piece of paper she always kept tucked away on her, unfolded it, and stared down at the drawing she'd discovered in her bag so long ago. She loved the man in that drawing, but he was gone forever. In his place was someone new, someone she knew absolutely nothing about. A stranger. But if she had even an inkling of a chance at loving anyone in the world the way she had loved a memory for so long, it was that stranger.

She sucked in a deep breath as she held the drawing out in front of her, gripping the top of it tightly with both hands. Somehow that little piece of paper had survived thirty-three years of fist-fights, near-arrests, injuries, sex, the consequences thereof, alcohol, and war. It was barely still in one piece, but it had survived, just as she had. It was that stupid, mediocre drawing that had guided her through some of the worst times in her life, as well as shared some of the best times. And it was that drawing that had, on a quiet, lonely night, convinced her to return to China. It was thanks to that drawing that she had realized the reason she'd kept the damn thing her whole life was because... She'd wanted to go back. She just hadn't been ready yet.

She finally let out the breath she'd been holding and ripped the paper in half, then let it go and watched it blow away in the wind. She didn't need a drawing anymore.

---

Po hummed to himself as he slowly shuffled backwards across the massive theater inside the Jade Palace's festive red front doors, which had been propped open to extend an unspoken invitation to any visitors that might happen by. While most mornings found him training diligently with the help of his fellow masters (sometimes with copious help, depending on which of the training hall's many torture devices he happened to be attempting to overcome), all the masters of the Jade Palace participated in a chore rotation, mainly to maintain their humility. So Po currently found himself sweeping the entire theater, in order to keep it presentable; in Master Shifu's words, it was the first impression visitors had of the Jade Palace, and that impression should be a good one.

Personally, he didn't see why he needed to sweep an outdoor arena, but Shifu's word was law. The kung fu master had been slowly (as in, at a glacier's pace) mellowing in the couple of months since Tai Lung's defeat and his subsequent enlightenment, but people didn't generally change overnight, and somehow he doubted the neurotic master of the Jade Palace would ever fully be at peace. Po could see some hope for the guy, though- his sense of humor was getting better, at least.

He took a short break and leaned on his broom, wiping his brow with his forearm as he surveyed his handiwork. It looked exactly the same as it had before he'd swept it, but at least he could honestly say that he completed the chore to the best of his ability. Besides, he had a busy morning of kung fu training ahead of him, followed by an afternoon of study and meditation with Shifu (who probably provided the worst example of the calm, relaxing practice in the entirety of kung fu), and then he needed to get down to the village to help his dad with the noodle restaurant's dinner rush. He was just about to go get started on his busy day when something stopped him- a noise that had come from the massive set of stairs that served as the only connection between the Jade Palace and the village below. He set his broom aside and turned to greet whatever visitor had braved the climb, but there was no one there.

He squinted at the open front gates; he could have sworn that he'd heard something, like a faint shout or a thud. He'd thought for sure that someone was attempting to climb the thousand steps, but as he slowly approached and listened intently for any other signs of life, he was puzzled to hear nothing more. He was just about to resume in his morning routine when another sound finally drifted up toward him.

"Shit!" That had been unmistakable. "Screw stairs. Aaaahhhh, why?"

"Uh... Hello?" he called back.

A hand suddenly appeared on the top step as an old- well, he guessed woman, by the pitch of her voice- hauled herself up, then collapsed in a heap, panting. She was absolutely the most bedraggled dog he had ever seen in his life, though to be honest he hadn't exactly seen a whole lot of dogs to begin with. "You," she grunted, pointing up at him.

"Me?" He asked, then glanced around quickly to make sure he was the only person she could possibly be referring to; unfortunately, he was.

"What're you, deaf? Yeah, you." She pushed herself into a sitting position and brushed off the front of her robes, still panting. "Be a polite young man and help an old woman up."

Upon closer inspection, she didn't actually seem to be that old- then again, different people aged differently, so he decided not to split hairs. "Are you, um, here to see someone?" he asked awkwardly as he grabbed hold of her hands and helped her hoist herself to her feet.

"Yeah," she answered, then continued to brush herself off. "The one with the big head."

He didn't see why she was fussing over her clothing so much; her outfit was just the plain brown dress of a farmer or a craftsman, so the dirt didn't really show on it. "Big head?" he repeated.

"Big ears, too," she clarified, then illustrated her point by placing her hands on top of her head in a pantomime of ears and wiggling her fingers. "Huge, really. And don't let him tellya it's a red panda thing, 'cause I've met plenty of red pandas in my life and lemme tellya, it is not." Now that she was actually speaking at length, he could hear a strange lilt in her voice- some type of accent that he couldn't identify. It wasn't a strong one, but it was definitely there. Not to mention she sounded rather gravelly, though he stopped wondering why when she pulled a large wooden pipe from her bag. "And who're you, anyway?"

"I'm Po," he introduced politely, and bowed since she was his elder. "And, uhm... Who're you?" He honestly couldn't imagine Master Shifu knowing a person like her, though he'd never actually met a friend of his master's before.

"Po, eh?" she asked, ignoring his question as she pulled out a small bag of tobacco and began stuffing her pipe. "I heard that name before. You're uh... The watchamacallit. Dragon Warrior." She stuck the unlit pipe in her mouth and tried to rummage through her bag for something else, but she also had other luggage in tow that was getting in her way. On her other shoulder was what appeared to be a grocery bag (he had no clue why she would bring groceries to the Jade Palace, but maybe she'd brought a gift or something for Master Shifu) and then strapped to her back was a long object wrapped in cloth that he couldn't quite identify, though he could see what appeared to be a blade sticking out the top of its wrapping.

"If you want, I could, uhm, carry something," he offered, even though she had yet to introduce herself.

"Take my wine," she ordered immediately, passing over the grocery bag. "And here, the musket, too." She took the mysterious object from her back and shoved it into his hands.

"M-musket?" he repeated, eyeing the unexpectedly heavy item warily. "You mean a gun?"

"Naw, it's a dildo," she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes at him. "Of course a gun, what else would I be talking about? And be careful with that, a pistol ain't no substitute for a musket."

"You have two guns?"

"Where're you from, kid? Why would I walk around with a gun if I didn't have a backup, huh? Aha!" She finally found what she had been looking for: a knife and some flint. "So you are the Dragon Warrior, right?" she asked as she lit her pipe. "You didn't answer me yet."

"Well, yeah, but you-"

"Thought so," she interrupted, completely unconcerned with what he'd been about to say. "And lookit you, too." She squinted critically at him, and he wasn't sure what to say to that comment.

He was offended, of course, but he really should have been used to people being surprised that he was a panda; after all, he didn't exactly fit the part of "ultimate warrior."

"You look about right for the job," she concluded, to his surprise. "I can see why Oogway woulda picked you- you look like a good kid." She poked at his belly as she walked past him and in through the front gates. "Healthy, too. You got a good appetite, or d'you just live offa dew and universe crap?"

"Um, I guess I have a good appetite," he answered, still taken aback by the stranger. He didn't want to offend her in case she was some great kung fu master- he wouldn't want to start off his day by insulting one of his many heroes, or by getting his butt kicked. Still, he was perplexed by how crude she was. "What'd you say your name was again?"

"Lin," she finally told him, puffing a cloud of smoke in his direction as she answered.

He'd never heard of her in his life. "Sorry- how d'you know Master Shifu?"

She let out a loud bark of laughter at his question, though he didn't understand what she found so funny. "I was the cook." She grinned as she got that far away look on her face that most older people got, the look that meant she was reminiscing about her past. "And he used to play grab-ass with me while I was trying to work."

"Ew." Po wrinkled his nose at the mental image the description had evoked. He would have died happy without ever having heard about Master Shifu's apparent affinity for women's behinds.

"Oh, that was a long time ago," she dismissed with another laugh. "Back when I was young and had quite the cute little rear end, in retrospect. Compared to the saggy, sad excuse for a butt I got now, anyway."

He tried to change the subject as politely as possible. "If you don't mind, I kinda would rather talk about something besides your butt." That didn't sound too offensive to him, but he decided to add to it just in case. "I mean, I barely know you."

"Okay, so who does the cooking around here now?" she asked, pausing in their walk to look at the overgrown grass and shrubbery at one side of the path.

"I do," he replied, wondering what she could possibly be looking at.

"You should put a vegetable garden here, then," she ordered with a decisive nod, then continued on her way; she appeared to be headed toward the barracks. "I didn't come all the way back here to be a cook again, though if you want I could helpya out every now and then."

"Whaddaya mean?" If he didn't know any better, he'd think she sounded more like she was planning to move in than to visit.

"Well, I'm sure you're a very good cook, otherwise you wouldn't hold the position in the first place. All I'm saying is it's nice to get a helping hand every now and then." She took her pipe out of her mouth and poked him in the side with it, which actually hurt a little. "Besides, you're still pretty young. Maybe you might like some pointers, sometime. Make an old woman feel useful."

"Sure, okay," he agreed hesitantly, rubbing at his side with his free hand. "But I gotta tellya, if you're here to see Shifu, he's probably not still in the barracks."

"Oh, I know," she replied flippantly. "I just wanna drop my stuff off first."

"Right."

"I wonder if my old room's still empty? Probably not, I'd imagine." She was most definitely planning to stay for a while.

"So, uhm... Did Master Shifu invite you?" he pried. He could see Shifu inviting a friend for a visit, but he would definitely discuss it with the rest of the Jade Palace's residents before inviting someone to live there.

"He sure did," she confirmed as she walked through the front door of the barracks as if she owned the place, then made a beeline for the room nearest the kitchen. "Ah, just like I remember it," she commented as she pushed the door open and dropped her things unceremoniously on the floor. She then grabbed the musket and wine from him and did the same to them. Then, she simply stood in the doorway and stared at the empty room.

"Uhm..."

"I'm trying to decide where my bed's gonna go," she informed him, squinting at the far corner. "That looks good."

"But... This room already has a bed," he pointed out.

"Please, I already know these beds are as uncomfortable as hell."

"I think they're supposed to be. I guess it's good for you or something..."

"Bullshit," she replied. "Besides, I'm old- I'm already uncomfortable all the time as it is, the last thing I need is a bed as hard as rocks. Though some people like that- I know Shifu does, that's probably why all these beds are like granite. I should know, I've felt his bed for myself, it was nightmarish."

"A little too much information there," he informed her shakily as he tried very hard not to imagine why she had been in Master Shifu's bed.

She didn't seem to care at all about his discomfort, though. "No, too much information would be if I toldya that he's insecure about the size of his penis."

"Aaaaand the line has officially been crossed."

"I never understood why, though. It always seemed a good size to me, for a red panda at least. Personally, I prefer 'em big, like epic. Y'know, bengal tiger big. You ever banged a tiger?"

Po could feel himself turning red at the topic she had brought up, painfully embarrassed. "N-no-"

"Really? Not even that Master Tigress?"

"Wha- no! No!" He winced as he imagined how Tigress might react if she learned that she had been brought up in such a context.

"Well, they're real fun in the sack, I'll tellya that much. Although, I gotta say, snakes rank pretty high up there, too. Y'know, the flexibility thing. Say, you ever-"

"No!"

"Anyway," she went on as if she were carrying on a normal conversation with him, "just between you and me, I ain't ever done a bear. And I'm always up for trying something new, so if you ever need a little experience under the belt, you just lemme know."

His jaw dropped and he just stared down at her, horrified.

"You'll warm up to me," she assured him, a lecherous grin on her face. "They all do, sooner or later. It's my natural charm, I guess." She pushed past him back out into the hallway while he tried his best not to be scarred for life; it didn't work. "Oh, hey, my old stomping grounds." She took a moment to peer into the kitchen, clucking her tongue as she did so. "Lookit all this."

"...All what?" Po asked, confused- though he was mostly just glad that she had forgotten all about her traumatizing proposition.

"You'd think someone'd be capable of keeping my system in place, but I guess not. I can already see the place is a mess." She shook her head as if she were looking upon a great tragedy. "Not that I'm blaming you," she added so flippantly that she might as well have not said anything at all.

"Didn't you wanna see Shifu?" he asked; she didn't seem like she meant any harm, but he wasn't sure how much more of her he could handle.

"Yeah," she replied, still staring at the kitchen.

"...Then shouldn't we go to the training hall?"

"Just one thing before we go." Then, for no discernible reason, she grabbed hold of the free-standing cabinets next to the door and pushed them away from the wall, peering behind them. "I thought so," she commented.

"Huh?" He leaned in to see what she was looking at, but all he could make out were some faded marks on the wall.

"Let's go get Shifu," she suddenly ordered, then walked out of the room, leaving the cabinets askew. While she clearly knew her way around the mountain, Po wasn't about to let her go unescorted to wreak havoc on anyone else- especially not anyone who knew kung fu.

"Um, just outta curiosity," he called out as he chased after her, "what made ya wanna come back for a visit?"

She let out a bark of laughter as she left the barracks and headed for the training hall. "That's a good one, 'visit.'"

He wondered if Master Shifu was ever going to explain any of this to him or the members of the Furious Five. If he had to guess, he'd say probably not. "You're not visiting, then?"

"When you get to be my age, kiddo, you get to thinking. And you realize there's more to life 'an you'd ever known."

"...Huh?" So much for getting any answers out of her.

"There're very few people I give a damn about left in this world, and most of 'em are on this side of the globe," she replied as they approached the training hall. "So I came to this side of the globe, naturally."

"What a coincidence, all the people I care about are over here, too." He'd been attempting to make a joke that time, but she didn't seem too amused by it.

"Good lord," she said, and for a moment he thought she was criticizing the admittedly weak attempt at humor, but then he realized she was staring at the stone-paved ground of the training hall's courtyard. "Y'know, that melon-head used to make me pick up grains of uncooked rice from the ground over here for half the day."

He assumed by "that melon-head" she meant Shifu. "...So he trained you in kung fu?"

"Nope," she dismissed, then ever so enigmatically left it at that and headed toward the hall. "Wow, it sounds like there're actually people in here! That's new."

He followed her inside as she basically burst dramatically through the front doors, dreading how her presence there would be received. "Yeah, there're- where's Shifu?" The red panda's absence was immediately obvious, and worrisome. "Guess we should continue our search," he prompted, but the others had already noticed the stranger in their midst.

Monkey thwarted his attempt to escape the training hall with Lin when he dropped down from the seven talon rings. "Who's your friend, Po?"

"She's a friend of Master Shifu's, actually, and we were just gonna go find him," he rushed out, growing more nervous as the rest of the five took an interest in their guest. He just prayed that she didn't end up offending Tigress, the one master who wouldn't think twice about breaking every bone in her body.

Monkey didn't seem keen on letting them go, so Po just silently prayed. "Oh, a friend of Shifu's! Pleasure to meet you, Master." He bowed, apparently making the same mistake Po had in assuming that since she was a friend of Shifu's, she was also a kung fu master.

"Well, damn," she replied, sounding surprisingly flattered. "No one's really recognized me before, but you don't gotta call me Master or anything."

"Wait- what?" Po was lost- if she wasn't a master of kung fu, then what had she mastered?

"I don't recognize you," Monkey amended sheepishly, "I just-"

"Oh, I get it!" she interrupted, though she seemed amused at the mistake. "I ain't a kung fu master. I'm just an old friend of ol' melon-head."

Mantis had joined them by this point, and let out one of his throaty laughs. "Melon-head?" he repeated. "Shifu's not gonna like that."

"If I gave two shits I wouldn't be calling him melon-head in the first place, now, would I?" she pointed out.

"You're an old friend of Shifu's?" Viper asked incredulously as she slithered into the group, and Po gave up all hope whatsoever of keeping Lin from spouting out lewd, offensive things to the five most skilled kung fu warriors in all of China.

At the very least, Tigress had yet to join in the conversation- she had instead remained a few feet behind the rest of the group, a mixture of suspicion and distinct displeasure radiating off her so intensely that he wouldn't be surprised if the first person who got within arms' length of her simply dropped dead.

"I didn't even think Shifu had any friends," Mantis laughed, bringing Po's attention back to the conversation at hand.

"No, I'm sure he has... A few," Crane added in his usual judicious manner. "At least one."

"You guys are terrible," Viper scolded, though she was clearly amused. "I am sure that Master Shifu has plenty of friends. He has a lot to offer."

"Like what?" Lin scoffed. "An aneurysm by proxy? The man's got a sphincter the size of a grain of sand."

"It sounds to me," Tigress suddenly added, her voice cold enough to freeze the surface of the sun itself, "that you aren't a very good friend. Does Master Shifu know you talk like this about him behind his back?"

Amazingly, Lin remained completely unfazed- no mean feat when faced with someone as intimidating as Tigress. "Of course he does," she answered nonchalantly. "I used to do it to his face all the time."

The assertion was met with silence; Po could not even begin to imagine anyone talking like that to Shifu's face without being totally obliterated, and he doubted anyone else in the room could, either.

"Uhm..." he spoke up, because he knew that someone needed to relieve the tension. "Speaking of Shifu, does anyone know where he is?"

"The peach tree, I think," Crane answered hesitantly, eyeing Lin as if she were an explosive.

As appeared to be her habit, she ignored everyone else's comfort level and made yet another outlandishly derogatory remark. "Stuffing his face with peaches? Yeah, sounds like him."

Po groaned to himself as Tigress glared daggers at the old woman. "You are a guest here at the Jade Palace," she pointed out. "You have no right to speak that way about its master."

"Apparently," Lin agreed. "Still, you're gonna hafta trust me when I say he likes it."

"I dunno about that," Po jumped in before Tigress could continue the argument. He didn't think Shifu would be very happy to walk in on a fight between the two women, or his friend beaten to a pulp, depending on how long it took him to get there. "But what I do know it that any friend of Shifu's is a friend of ours. Right?" He shot a pleading look around at all of his fellow masters, hoping they'd take the hint to help him diffuse the situation. "Right, guys?"

Viper and Crane were the first to chime in with a "right, of course," and Mantis and Monkey shortly followed.

"Friends forever," Mantis needlessly added after a short, awkward pause.

Tigress glared at them and crossed her arms, clearly not convinced.

Po would have once again attempted to thin out the tension in the air, except the only thing that could have happened to make matters worse... Happened.

"And besides, I got enough dirt on that old prude to blackmail him even if we weren't," Lin jumped in right as Shifu entered the training hall and undoubtedly heard every word she'd just said.

They all stared at her, waiting for her to realize that the subject of her ridicule was right behind her.

"What?" she asked, then when the question was met with further silence she seemed to realize what the problem was. "This is kinda awkward," she muttered as she slowly turned around to face Shifu, who had remained stonily silent since his arrival.

He only said one thing, and it definitely was not what Po had been expecting to hear. "Students, leave us." His tone brooked no argument, so with nervous glances between each other they bowed in respect and obediently filed out of the building. They remained tense even after they'd gotten outside, since they knew their master could still hear them. Po, for one, was intensely curious as to why Shifu had kicked them out of the barracks; surely any reunion with an old friend wouldn't be that private of an event.

Once the six of them had gotten a safe distance away (halfway back to the barracks), they all let out a collective sigh of relief.

"I wonder what's going on in there right now," Viper mused, turning her curious gaze back in the direction of the training hall.

"Don't look, Shifu might sense it," Crane whispered, but she only rolled her eyes at him.

"I got my money on a smackdown," Mantis stated conversationally, then let out a hearty chuckle.

"I don't doubt that," Monkey agreed. "The real question is: will there be anything left, or just a dog-shaped hole in the wall?"

Tigress remained conspicuously silent on the matter, the only indication of her mood her tail swishing irritably back and forth behind her.

"I don't think we should gossip just yet," Po sighed, hoping that they were wrong; despite the old woman's rudeness and general disregard for socially acceptable behavior, he sort of liked her. He didn't think he could have handled her for much longer, but he still sort of liked her. She didn't seem malicious (though he'd already been traumatized by her in the short time he'd known her), and he could tell she genuinely wanted to see Shifu. He still had to admit that he could never imagine, even if they were the last two people on Earth, the uptight kung fu master actually hanging out with such a... Crazy person. She was the last kind of woman he could imagine Shifu having a friendship with, let alone anything more (if Lin's offhand comments about "playing grab-ass" and sharing a bed were to be believed). He once again shuddered at the thought of his master like that. It was just plain gross.

"Hey, Po!" Mantis called out, snapping him out of his reverie. "C'mon, place your bet. How long you think the old lady's gonna last?" Apparently a betting pool had started while he'd been drifting off.

"I don't think there's gonna be a fight," he replied; something gave him a feeling that Lin hadn't been lying about her former relationship with Shifu, whatever that might have been.

"Okay, so I'll put you down under the 'killjoy' column."

"Hey, I'm not trying to be a killjoy, I just think the two of 'em are actually friends."

"Well I got a thousand to one odds on that, so you better hope for a miracle, buddy."

He shook his head as the others chimed in with similar jokes, then glanced back at the training hall as he wondered what could possibly be happening inside.

---

Shifu honestly could not do anything except stare. If someone had told him when he'd woken up that morning that in only a little over an hour he would walk into the training hall and come face to face with the one person in his life he felt certain he'd never see again, he would have kicked them off the mountain. Yet there she was.

Lin. He'd recognized her immediately; her fluffy fur was admittedly more bedraggled and lackluster than it had once been, her right eye was cloudy with cataracts, and she was missing a bit of her left ear- not to mention she'd aged quite a bit, which he supposed was to be expected for someone with her lifestyle. And that voice- gone was the youthful, energetic voice that could soothe an aching wound and carry across the mountain in blind rage all in the same breath. In its stead was the wizened, gravelly rasp of a chain smoker. Again, something that shouldn't have surprised him.

Still, he'd know her anywhere. If she shaved off all her fur and dressed like a buddhist monk, he'd still know her anywhere. After all, she had been his first real love. The only one, actually.

"...You do recognize me, right?" she spoke up, and he realized he'd been staring for quite some time.

"Yes," he answered, unsure of what else to say. "Of course I do." He still had no idea how to react to her. Part of him wanted to simply pull her into an embrace she would inevitably beat him silly for; another part of him knew how ridiculous that would be, after over thirty years apart. And every part of him was burning with curiosity. There were so many questions to ask her- where she'd been, what she'd been doing, why she was back in the valley. He settled on simply appreciating that she'd come back at all, and left the next move to her.

"You got fatter," she pointed out. Obviously it had been a mistake to leave the tearful reunion in her hands. "And what's with that ear hair? What're you, cultivating sprouts in there? And by the way, I didn't think it was possible for your mustache to get any more dumb looking, but then you went and grew it out just to prove me wrong."

"It is good to see you, too," he huffed, "you relentless harpy." He should have known she'd make it impossible for her return to be even approaching joyous. "You walk in here after thirty-three years, and all you have to say is that I look horrible. Nice."

"What'd you expect, that I'd burst into tears and tellya life wasn't worth living without you?"

"It could not hurt to try something new for once." He paused to wonder how long it was going to take for things between them to stop being awkward. "Well, was it?" That question probably hadn't helped.

She laughed at him, a throaty cackle that filled the room. "You're still an ass," she replied. "By the way, I heard about all that Dragon Scroll business. The panda?"

"Yes, the panda," he confirmed.

"So what was in it?"

He really did not want to tell her. But she would find out sooner or later, so it may as well come from him. "Nothing." He waited for a snide remark, but she just stared at him. "It was blank," he repeated, annoyed at her lack of reaction.

Of course, she burst into laughter. "I thought you were just teasing me for a minute there!" she wheezed out in between chuckles. "Nothing? Really?"

"Yes, laugh it up," he grumbled, finding that her amusement was even more agitating than her silence had been. "It was just a reflection."

"Hey, now, a reflection ain't nothing," she comforted, though the effect was somewhat negated by the fact that she was still chuckling.

"Let me know when you are done laughing at my expense," he huffed, turning to go. "Then perhaps we can talk."

"Aw, c'mon," she sighed, though the threat seemed to end her amusement fairly quickly. "I didn't mean to laugh so much. It's just... I ain't had a lot to laugh about lately." She was as much a master of guilt trips as ever.

"I gather you know all the sordid details of the past twenty years by now." He waited for her to ream him out for messing up so badly as a father and to say she'd told him so, but she surprised him.

"I'm, uh... Real sorry," she said awkwardly, then reached out to give him a part on the arm. "I guess it's been tough for both of us, huh?"

"'Tough' does not even begin to describe it." He wondered what kind of 'tough' times Lin had faced in her travels; judging by her usual nonchalance in the face of adversity, the past few decades had probably been downright horrific, for her to simply admit they had been "tough." "Things have been looking up for me in the past few months, though. And you?"

"I had some good times and some bad," she replied vaguely. "Everyone goes through shit in their lives, y'know. I saw the world like I wanted to, I settled down for a little while. Dropped some bad habits, picked up some worse ones. And I came back here."

"You... Have no family to speak of?" He remembered how adverse she had been to getting married and having children, but he supposed in the back of his mind he'd always thought she'd find her own version of the archetype.

"Nah. Not outside of China, anyway," she dismissed, and he couldn't help but smile at her implication. "They're all dead." That certainly wiped the smile clear away.

"Still a delightful conversationalist, I see," he pointed out sarcastically.

"What can I say? I've never been above using personal tragedy to make others hilariously uncomfortable." She grinned at him, then headed for the door. "You wanna eat something? 'Cause I'm starved."

"You have such a way with words." He marveled at how quickly they had managed to revert back to their old patterns as he turned and followed her. Still, there was something about her teasing that was more mellow than he remembered. Perhaps she had softened over the years. "Tell me, when did you first adopt this calm air you seem to have about you?" There was something about her that was almost... Wise.

"Probably after I went to war," she replied lightly. "After you kill a certain number of people, you just stop sweating the small stuff."

Perhaps he had spoken too soon when he'd said to himself that she'd softened. "I see." He sincerely hoped she hadn't said anything of that nature to his students; he didn't want to have to explain it later. "So... It is a lovely day today." He wanted to change the subject, and small talk was the best way to do it.

"Yeah, I get it," she replied easily, glancing up at the sky. "Should probably save the grim stuff for later. So... You get married or anything?"

"Who has time for that sort of thing?" he brushed off, though it was rather truthful; he had never pursued any relationships after Lin because he had always felt too busy or too involved with Tai Lung's training to bother. And after the rampage, the last thing he'd wanted to do was to put himself out there. Besides, after a while the subject of romance had simply stopped crossing his mind.

"Yeah, I get what you mean," she agreed. "There's so much bullshit involved with romance. It's better to just have sex and get it over with, if you ask me."

He tried his best to not to blush at the flippant comment, but failed miserably.

"I know what you're thinking," she went on before he could say anything. "I may not've been a slut back when you first met me, but I sure as hell am one now. I ain't quite had as many men in me as the urn of whispering warriors, but hey, if dreams weren't difficult to achieve then they wouldn't be dreams."

"Alright, that's enough." He was certain that he looked like steam was about to billow out from his ears. "If you think I care that you have conquered more territory than Genghis Khan, then you are wrong," he lied. Still, he shouldn't have expected her love life to go stale as his had; she had been on the move, meeting new people all the time, finding a new home with each passing week.

"Spoken like someone who hasn't gotten laid in way too long," she teased. "Not that it's a contest or anything."

"It has been over three decades since we have last seen each other, I think we can find something better to discuss than sex."

"No such thing," she shot back, but miraculously respected his wishes. "I met your daughter, by the way." Not that she found anything even remotely comfortable to segue into after conversing about sex.

"So you know about Tigress?" He tried not to let it bother him; he was at peace now, after all.

"Chen told me, said she was one of the best kung fu warriors in all of China. Then again, he also called you a fat badger, but I chose to believe him. She hates me, of course. I'm betting she takes after you a lot."

He was surprised by how eager Lin seemed to be to talk about Tigress (and a little offended by the fat badger comment). "She does, though I doubt it is a good thing."

She laughed at the admission as they entered the barracks and headed toward the kitchen. "You might still be uptight as hell, but I'm glad to see you at least have a sense of humor about yourself."

"That was more Po's doing than anything else." He paused as they entered the kitchen, eyeing the cabinets next to the door that had been pushed away from the wall. He had no doubts as to whose handiwork that had been. "So you have already visited the kitchen," he surmised.

"Yeah, and don't think I didn't notice what a mess it is."

"That is not exactly what I was concerned about." He pointedly pushed the cabinets back into their proper place.

"Oh, right. That." She cleared her throat awkwardly and fidgeted with her ear a bit. "I was just... Looking." She turned to the cabinets near the stovetop, then, and began rummaging through them for ingredients. "So you covered those marks up after the whole... Shebang?"

"Yes," he confirmed; he hadn't expected her to pursue the subject. He supposed he'd simply underestimated her pushiness. "You seem to know all that has happened to me since your departure, yet you have yet to volunteer any specific details about your own life," he pointed out.

"Didya really expect any different?" she shot back.

"I thought you might have become more open with age." He wondered if she was joking. If she actually refused to tell him anything, he was going to pick her up himself and throw her down the thousand steps.

"Alright, I'll tellya a thing or two about my life." She pulled a bag of rice out of the cabinet and dropped it onto the counter. "Where to begin?"

"Well... Did you make it to India?" He supposed it was as good a place as any to start.

"I sure did. Took that trip up to Nepal like I wanted to, too." She paused to shoot him a wide grin, which he found rather disconcerting.

"What?"

"There were a lotta red pandas up there," she clarified. "With big, bushy tails... And the cutest little ears."

"I despise you," he replied immediately.

"And you think that bothers me?"

"You have a point there," he conceded. "It has never bothered you before, after all."

"And never will," she added. "Now where was I? Oh yeah- India. Well, I was living there for a coupla years, criticizing the government, the wealthy class, the rigid caste system... That sorta thing. From there it was northwest through Pakistan, Iran, and then Turkey. They weren't too fond of me there. I took a ship from Turkey that stopped in Greece for a little bit, then onward to the land of my birth. Well, actually, mostly just Rome. I settled there for a while- after all, targets don't get much more prime 'an the Pope. Got excommunicated, sentenced to death, the usual. From there, it was off to France- and lemme tellya, the food was outta this world! Not to mention the aristocracy kept me plenty busy. From France I went northeast, back toward Germany, Poland... Basically wandered around for a few years there, I won't boreya with all the little details. I ended up back west, in Spain, and, well... Let's just say those inquisition guys really mean business. I'd been sentenced to death or life in prison in most of the places I'd been, so I headed for the one country I could think of that had no censorship laws- England. I made my way up the coast of France to the English Channel, swam across, and I was home free. Spent twelve years there, too."

"Wait- you swam there?"

"Yeah, it was summertime, so it wasn't too bad. Besides, I couldn't catch a ship, what else was I supposed to do?" She began making what he suspected would be rice porridge, then put some water on to boil for tea.

"I am starting to think that you were holding out on me," he joked. "If I had known what you were truly capable of, I definitely would have forced you to learn kung fu."

"And I woulda bludgeoned you to death with my spoon," she shot back, then covered her pot of rice and turned around to face him, leaning back against the counter. "Y'know, this brings up something important. Something I been thinking about... Well, pretty much since I decided to come back."

"Oh? And what would that be?" He reminded himself of her habit of sounding sincere when she actually intended to make some immature joke at his expense. "Let me guess- something to do with the size of my ears?"

"Nah, I'm being serious," she surprised him. "Y'see, the thing is... I don't really know you anymore."

"What are you talking about? We are standing here in the kitchen, talking and trading barbs just as we always used to."

"You mean just like we did over thirty years ago," she pointed out.

"Alright," he conceded, "I admit that we have both changed. So I have one bad knee and a bushel of ear hair, but that does not mean you don't know me anymore."

"That's not what I'm talking about, and I think you know that." She paused to give him a very pointed look. "We don't know each other anymore, is what I meant to say. It's been so long, we might as well be strangers."

"That is not true," he argued, even though he knew she had a good point. "The more things change, the more they stay the same. For instance, you still love to make fun of me." Which he might have actually preferred to their current discussion.

"That's just what I'm saying- I 'still' make fun of you. We're talking just like we 'always used to.' I've been back here for less than half an hour and you're already measuring me against your decades-old memories- and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't doing the same to you. But I'm not the same person I was back then, and neither are you. And we can't walk around with those images of each other in mind- they're just fantasies, now. They're not real people anymore."

He wasn't quite sure how to react to her speech. He knew it was true, of course, but he hadn't expected their catching up and reminiscing to take such a serious turn. "What are you saying, exactly?"

"I dunno," she huffed, though she probably knew precisely what she wanted to say. "I just... I want us to get to know each other again. If you're up to it."

"Yes," he agreed immediately, then cleared his throat in embarrassment at how quickly he'd done so. "I, uhm... I would like that, as well. But how much time would I have, before you..." He trailed off, wondering if she might be offended if he used the words, "leave again."

She got the idea, though. "A valid concern," she acknowledged. "But I've decided to retire, in a manner of speaking. I'm gonna settle down, for good."

He had suspected as much, though he hadn't kept his hopes up. "Settle down? You mean here in the Valley?"

"I mean in my old room," she corrected. "It looked empty, so I took it. I'll need a decent bed, though, and I ain't gonna be your cook again. Don't get me wrong, I'll cook every now and then, but only when I feel like it. Mostly I'll be making art."

"You... What?" He should have seen this coming, but somehow he hadn't. "Let me get this straight. You have decided, entirely on your own, that you now live here."

"You're the one who invited me," she replied.

"That was thirty-three years ago, and you are the one who just said that the people we were then aren't real anymore!" He felt his eye begin to twitch, a habit that he had hoped would disappear after he'd apparently reached peace. How could he possibly be at peace, though, with Lin around?

"You said even if a hundred years had passed I'd still be welcome," she sniffed indignantly, crossing her arms. "No take-backsies."

"You- you-" He rubbed at his temples in an attempt to relieve the pressure that had been building there; he had no clue what he was going to tell his students, and he could not even begin to imagine how any of them would get along with her. "You are going to make my head literally explode one day. One day soon."

"I see we're on the same page." She reached behind her to grab the water for tea that had begun to boil.

He sunk down into a chair at the kitchen table, still dazed by the fact that Lin had shown up out of the blue after thirty-three years, only to declare that she was moving in. And somehow he had let her. "You are the reason acupuncture therapy was invented."

"So that's what's stuck up your ass," she observed conversationally, then set a pot of tea and a cup in front of him and took a seat beside him. "I was starting to wonder."

He glared at her for the comment, though he knew she would only enjoy it. "What am I going to tell my students?"

"The truth," she said with a shrug. "Hey, if you don't want me here, just say so."

He opened his mouth, about to say just that, when he realized that it wasn't how he felt. He did want her there. He wanted to get to know her again, to hear her laugh again and see her smile again. He had just forgotten, momentarily, how aggravating she could be. "I do want you here," he admitted. "But promise me that you will at least try not to make my students want to strangle you."

"Yeah, I'll try," she sighed, sounding incredibly put upon. "Y'know, I wouldn'ta taken no for an answer, anyway."

"I know." He doubted he would have been able to kick her out even if he'd spent the rest of his life trying to do so. "This is going to sound sickeningly sentimental, but... Over the years, I have found myself... Thinking about you."

"Trust me when I say it's taking all my strength not to burst into tears," she replied, completely dead-pan.

"Yes, I get your point," he grumbled, frowning back at her. "What I am trying to say is, I've missed you."

She stared back at him for a moment, and he thought for sure that she would make fun of him again, but she took him by surprise with her response. "I missed you, too," she sighed, then reached toward him and... Tugged painfully on his beard.

"What are you doing?" he grunted, batting her hand away.

"It was crooked," she shot back, and then her hand darted forward to give his facial hair one last yank. "There, much better."

"Remind me again why I am allowing you within arm's reach of me."

"Because," she answered, and her voice took on an uncharacteristically gentle tone, "no matter what happens, we'll always be friends."

Despite the fact that he knew it would most likely be mere seconds before she insulted him, she had still somehow managed to melt his heart with that simple declaration. "Lin... I don't know what to say."

"Well, you can start with 'thanks for breakfast.' And you can follow up with 'on top of retaining your youthful beauty, you have also gained an insightful wisdom that is beyond your years.'" She grinned widely at him, revealing that the majority of the teeth on the right side of her mouth were, in fact, wooden.

He resisted the urge to wince and rub at his cheek as he imagined what kind of painful experience might have resulted in the loss of teeth- most likely a violent event. "Are you certain that you are a completely different person now than you were thirty years ago?" he asked to mask his reaction. "Because I seem to recall you being this full of yourself back then, as well."

"Our memories can deceive us," she replied enigmatically, though due to the subject at hand the phrase was somewhat lacking in wisdom.

He rolled his eyes at her. "The only deception here is the illusion that your words are coming from your mouth, when you are in fact speaking out of your ass."

She just grinned and poured his tea for him.

"I have a feeling," he went on, because he doubted that any silence between them could be anything but awkward, "that your residence here is going to be nothing if not torturous."

"That's how you talk to me after I'm gone for thirty years?" she suddenly nagged, most likely in a parody of his response to her teasing about his looks. "Nice."

"But you-"

"Nice," she interrupted him, and he realized that she was not being even a little bit sincere.

"Get over yourself," he shot back, then tasted the tea; she had brewed it even better than he'd remembered. At that recollection he reminded himself not to compare her to his memories, as she'd requested. It was going to be difficult; after all, as much as she had changed in appearance there was still a lot about her that didn't seem to have changed at all. She was still as determined to get on his nerves as ever, still crass and rude, still vibrant and funny with a smile that made him feel like they were the only two people in the entire world. Everything about the arrangement would be difficult, but he had a feeling that it would be worth it.

She leaned back in her seat and poured a cup of tea of her own, looking him straight in the eye. "I got something a little more serious to ask you about," she added, sobering at the pause in their conversation that had been caused by his musing. "Not that I wanna bring the mood down, but... Well, after I left..."

"What?" he prompted, curious as to what she wanted to know.

"I'm just wondering... What was the situation? I mean with the government?" She leaned a bit closer to him, apparently eager for an answer.

"I'm not sure if I should say anything..." Shifu looked down into his tea, his brow furrowing; it was something of a sensitive topic, after all.

"Go on, I can take it," she replied, waving her hand at him in a dismissive gesture. "I'm a big girl."

"Well, uhm..." He glanced up at her, hoping his answer didn't upset her too much. "No one ever came looking for you."

"Eh?"

"Not even a single soldier. Not so much as an inquiry by mail." He shrugged, lost on what else to tell her. It was probably quite difficult to hear that she had fled the valley and China for fear of a threat that hadn't even existed, and he didn't want to make her feel worse by saying the wrong thing.

"Really? Nobody?" She narrowed her eyes, one side of her lip curling up in a familiar expression of disbelief.

"Not long after you left, I even wrote a letter on your behalf, and... Uh... No one even knew what I was talking about." He tapped his fingers on the table, waiting for her reaction.

Lin blinked at him a few times, looking dumbfounded.

Then she laughed.

---

A/N: And there you have it. Well, not to ruin this beautiful moment or anything, but I have a little something else for everyone. Consider it the "Special Features," of the fic. Mainly deleted scenes, notes on the characters, and of course my personal favorite: "production art." And lots of it. Just mosey on down to livejournal for a post of all things Blue Plate Special: marie-goos-v2 [DOT] livejournal [DOT] com/12240 [DOT] html

Some last notes: The title of the epilogue mean "The Appetite Comes When You're Eating." I actually considered that title for the overall fic. Also, I've been thinking of writing more in the Blue Plate Special timeline, like a one-shot about Shifu's past... And something sequel-ish? We'll see. Well... That's it! Ta ta for now, and sincere thanks to everyone for reading, reviewing, and supporting me through this fic. I am truly grateful toward each and every one of you. Now go to bed, because I know it's probably 4 in the morning wherever you are (when else does anyone read fanfiction? :P)