A/N this is a story that I had been working on for quite a while but put it aside because it was heading into Wu Xia territory, even more than the series had. But what the heck, it's fun. Give it whirl anyway, and please review it. Reviews are like being paid in chocolate. They are also addictive.

Modern-day

Peter had grown into his role as Shaolin Priest. He could understand now how busy his father had been and why he had been at times hard to find. Despite how much he loved his new life, Peter wasn't entirely comfortable in his skin. He still missed being a cop but he could not reconcile being a police officer with being a priest so he had chosen to leave the force behind.

He walked through china town, smiling and occasionally bowing respectfully. He wasn't as quiet and introspective as his father. He was still impulsive and hot-tempered but he was learning. He hoped he was improving. He wanted to live up to his father's faith in him. Even if he was certain he would never be half the priest his father had become.

Jordan hadn't been able to understand his life choices so they ended the relationship. He understood it and respected it, even though it hurt at the time. He found that he was lonely, even though he walked among friends every day, even though he told the Ancient he wasn't.

The Ancient, there was another riddle he wasn't willing to try and solve. He didn't think his father had either. Peter figured that his father kept in touch with Lo Si, even though he had not received a single letter since his departure. He wasn't sure how to feel about that, so he didn't. He pushed it aside and went on about his life as he had always done.

He entered the park and strolled through, trying to shake off the thoughts that left him more unsettled for the thinking. He found the tai chi court and had presumed that he would be the only one there at this time of the day, but he was pleasantly surprised. A young woman was leading a tai chi class.

He leaned against a near by tree and watched. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She didn't exactly look Chinese, but she didn't not look Chinese either. Her hair hung long and sleek down her back, so dark that it appeared blue in the sun, It moved like watered silk, echoing her movements. Her form was delicate and full at the same time, nearly black eyes peered out from behind creamy olive skin.

She talked them through the forms. Movements combined in such a way as to soothe the mind and direct energy through the body. Her movements were fluid, graceful, and precise. He couldn't place her accent. Vaguely British, vaguely Chinese, something else hinted at in certain words. It was soothing, like the sound of a distant stream.

"Alright, our time is up," she said. "I look forward to our next appointment"

Peter waited until the students had left before walking toward her.

She looked up and smiled. "Can I help you?"

"I couldn't help but watch your class. You're a good teacher." he offered his hand "I'm Peter, by the way, Peter Caine."

"Caine? As in come to china town, ask for Caine?" She asked as she took his hand.

He smiled faintly "The same."

"I thought you would have been older." She teased.

"I used to be...well... the Caine people used to come looking for was my father Kwai Chang Caine. He had to leave town for a while so I stepped up while he's gone."

"I'm Leanne Garret." She said, "They say you're a Shaolin priest or is that your father?"

"Both of us actually. I came to it a bit later in life than he did. So how often do you teach classes? I wouldn't mind joining."

"I'm flattered. But the class is part of an anger management course I am teaching. Surely a priest does not need anger management."

"You'd be surprised. But hey, I won't tell if you won't. So if you don't mind my asking where are you from? I can't place your accent." He asked as they walked toward a park bench.

"I lived in Hong Kong. My grandfather was Chinese. "

"So was mine." He said, "Believe it or not."

She laughed, and Peter thought it sounded like wind chimes. "I can, but only because I do not see a Chinese woman when I look in the mirror." She sat down on the bench and he sat beside her.

"According to Lo Si, China is carried in the heart. I think he picked it up from a bad movie."

Another laugh "Big Trouble in Little China. He finds it amusing. Sometimes I think he believes part of it is possible. I play Xiangqi with him on Wednesday evenings."

"He is my father's closest friend, his mentor. I ahm... grew up in a temple in Northern California, where my father taught. Well, until I was 13 anyway. I think there is more truth to Big Trouble in Little China than people want to admit. Did you know the Dali Lama's voice sounds a lot like David Lo Pan"

She laughed again, her smile reaching her eyes. "I think you have more of China in your heart than you realize." She could sense the power in him, even if he could not. She could sense his qi and it was vibrant.

Peter smiled. He felt at ease with this woman in a way that he never had with anyone else. Especially not at the first meeting. He felt at peace when he looked at her. "Can I take you to dinner tonight?" He asked.

"I would like that," She said and gave him her phone number and address.

"Shall we say seven?"

"Seven sounds great." She said, "I'm looking forward to it."

Lo Si knocked and entered Peter's home, the brownstone that his father had left him to care for in his absence. "Peter?" He called out.

"I'll be out in a minute." He said as he wiped the residual shaving cream from his face. He straightened his tie, combed his hair once more, and stepped out into the main room. "What can I do for you Lo Si?"

Lo Si looked him over. "You have a date."

Peter smiled brightly. "Yes, I do. With Leanne Garret. You have been holding out on me." he teased "She says she plays board games with you every Wednesday and you never introduced me."

The Ancient one shrugged. "I did not wish my game interrupted by inevitable romance. How did you meet?"

"I happened to be in the park today where she was teaching her tai chi class." He said, "She really is something."

"you are smitten."

He grinned but didn't answer to the accusation. " So, what was it you needed, Lo Si? If it's important I can call her and postpone our date."

Lo Si smiled indulgently. "Nothing more than an old man wanting company. I will return tomorrow."

"You can tell my father I'm alright." He said, knowing that there was more to The Ancient's visit than loneliness. "And that he can ask me himself some time." There was that kernel of bitterness rising to the surface again, just when he thought he had it under control.

"Your father is-"

"Busy. I know." Peter said. "But hey, so am I." He shrugged "And if I don't get out the door I am going to be late to pick up a very beautiful woman. Some things just should not be done."

"I will leave you then." Lo Si said. "I will see you tomorrow." He worried about Peter. He had come so far since completing his training and yet there was further to go. The seed of anger still sat deep within him. Feelings of abandonment, reinforced time and again. It had been important for Kwai Chang Caine to leave for there to be any real growth in Peter. He had to step out from under his father's very large shadow and he would never do so if that shadow were close to hand. So the Ancient had chosen to show Kwai Chang Caine the photo of his wife.

Sometimes they needed to be manipulated and sometimes he regretted doing it, but he knew there was danger coming for father and son once more, an Evil that Lo Si could not see or sense, but knew was there nevertheless. They both needed to grow. And to protect themselves not each other for a time. Only then could they come together as equals and defeat the enemy. If they failed then one of them, if not both, would be lost forever. It would be the end of the line of Kwai Chang.

"I'll see you then." Peter had sold most of his possessions when he had come to reside in his father's brownstone. He didn't know how his father had afforded it, but he wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth.

The money Peter had gained from the sale of his things had stayed in his checking account for when he absolutely needed it. It paid for his cell phone and his car insurance and gas, and now it was going to pay for his first date in a year.

He arrived at Leanne's apartment a little before seven.

It had been a year since he and Jordan had broken up and he hadn't asked anyone out since. He had been busy and hadn't wanted the distraction. Although if he were being honest with himself, it was because he didn't want another rejection. He was tired of people walking out of his life, leaving him as though he was inconsequential.

His father had gone searching for his mother, leaving him to face this new phase of his life alone in favor of the woman who had abandoned them both. It was just one of many things that he was avoiding processing. He knew this was causing problems, that it interfered with his qi, but so did the anger that came when he tried to process it all.

He knocked on the door and smiled when she answered the door. "Wow." He breathed "You are … stunning."

She smiled and blushed faintly. "Thank you." Her long black hair was pulled up into an elaborate plaited bun at the back of her neck, ( Peter found himself wondering what it would be like to unweave it and run his fingers through it.) Her dress was red with faint gold patterns that only showed when the light hit it just right, otherwise, it merely shimmered. She stepped out of the apartment and closed the door.

He offered her his arm and led her to the car. "I hope you don't mind that we're not going to be eating in Chinatown. "I have been living on rice vegetables and lentils for a year now. I thought it would be nice if we went somewhere else."

"Are you required to eat that way?" She asked.

"Required is a strong word. However, I do know a good non-Chinese vegetarian place. " He said as he opened the car door for her.

"I put myself in your capable hands." She said as she got inside.

Kwai Chang Caine sat in his Paris flat with his legs crossed, staring into the candle flame. He had spent a year searching for clues about his wife. A year missing his son so much that it made his heart ache. He was no closer to finding Laura, but with each day he was drifting farther away from his son. He trusted the Ancient to guide and protect him on his journey, but it was not what he wanted. He wanted to be there for Peter himself.

He sighed in frustration and shifted once more before trying again to meditate. He let his mind drift, but could not banish the thoughts of his wife and son. They would come unbidden into his mind. Flashes like photographs. His peace was being torn asunder by his quest, yet how could he not continue to seek the woman he had loved so deeply even after so long had passed?

Another sigh. "Perhaps a cup of tea." He said softly and rose from the floor and walked across the studio to his small kitchen. It was little more than a sink, a small counter, an electric water kettle, and a hot plate. The refrigerator only reached the center of his chest. This was where he put the microwave. He filled the kettle and turned it on.

He took a teacup down, then walked to a small shelf against the nearby wall and selected a powder to add to the heated water. A powdered mix of herbs to help him clear his mind. Something he had needed progressively more often since coming to Paris. The need for answers consumed him. The years of grief that he had endured, the grief and anger that seemed permanently embossed on Peter's heart needed answers, needed a path toward peace.

Paris was filled with 2 million people. You could live an eternity in the city and never meet more than a thousand individuals. He had settled in with the Chinese community, hoping that she would gravitate toward them for a sense of the familiar. But she had not. He had resumed his work as a priest while he searched, and while he took great satisfaction from helping others he had not been able to help himself, or Laura. He was not even certain that she wanted or needed his help. Was he wrong to spend so long seeking answers? Was his inability to let these churning thoughts go what made it impossible for him to complete his task and help his wife and son to reunite?

He poured the now boiling water over the powder and stirred it to blend. He breathed in the scent of the tea. With each breath, he focused on a single scent, the rich smokey scent of fermented camellia leaves, the undercurrent of pine from the hops flowers, and the mildly spiced vanilla scent of hawthorn leaves.

He walked back to his Zafu, continuing to breathe deeply the scent of the tea. He gracefully settled on the cushion, legs folded into the lotus position, never once using his hands as they held the fragrant cup of tea. He sipped the tea, focusing on its warmth, on the flavor of the herbs that echoed the scent. He felt the steam filling his lungs, the soothing warmth that flowed past his chakras, Vishudda, Anahata, Manipura, and Svadishthana. Even as he drank the tea he kept his breathing slow, deep, and even. He set aside the cup, now focusing only on his breathing. No words, no sounds. Merely the sensation of air entering and leaving his nostrils, the feeling of his chest expanding and contracting with each breath. His consciousness rested in Ajna and Sahasrara.

He entered his meditation with no expectations other than peace and clarity, perhaps through these he would find a clue where to resume his search, or whether he should return to his son. But as was often the case his meditations led him to the knowledge he needed, not that which he wanted.

He breathed slowly, (Inhale one, two, three, four, five, six )

A man sat amid the scrub oak and hickory. It was as though he was looking in a mirror, even though the man was younger, and darker, his skin held a deeper olive complexion. He sat on a blanket under the shade of the scrub oak, with a young woman. She was beautiful and also of mixed parentage. The paleness of her complexion made her all the more beautiful in the man's eyes.

(Exhale One, two, three, four, five, six,)

His grandfather smiled at the woman. "You wish me to stay?" He asked. They spoke in casual, comfortable Chinese.

"I wish you to stay always." She answered. "My brother and grandfather would not mind. They both like you very much."

(Inhale, one two three four five six)

"I cannot promise always. Not always here, in this place. You know I am a wanted man. The Emperor will not stop."

"Can you promise always... if not in this place?" She asked.

(exhale, one, two, three, four, five, six)

He caressed her cheek tenderly and leaned in to kiss her with equal tenderness. "I love, you," he said. "I would have you at my side in this life and the next. But to do so would put you in great danger."

"And I love you. "She told him. "The only place I wish to be is at your side. It is not my life the Emperor seeks. I will be in no more danger traveling with you than I am here in a town so full of hate. No one should spend their life alone, without love."

"I will speak to your grandfather. If you are willing to walk beside me in my journey and he agrees, then I will be your husband." He kissed her once more, longing for the life she promised... a life that was not alone.

(Inhale, One, two, three, four, five, six)

Kwai Chang Caine opened his eyes, slowly, and sighed. He knew the woman in his vision was not his grandmother. What was his vision meant to tell him? They never came simply to show him the past, they came with a purpose. Especially those that were so clear, so precise.

Peter had opened every door for her, pulled out her chair, and pushed it in for her, he had spent the entire evening doting on her every wish and need. She could not remember the last time she had been treated so well. Now he opened her car door for her and walked her to her door.

"I have had a lovely time." She told him, smiling. "Would you like to come in? For tea?" She would not offer him alcohol. She knew that Shaolin did not drink alcohol.

He smiled. "I'd like that." He said and followed her into her apartment. "I like your home. It's peaceful." Like her, her home was a blend of San Francisco and Hong Kong. There were antiques among the casual decorations. Small Jade and cinnabar carvings.

He was rewarded with another smile. "Thank you." she led the way to her kitchen, where she set the kettle on the stove to boil. "Can you reach the tea set above the cupboard? I seldom have company so I rarely use it."

"Sure," He said, and reached up to get it "I am probably the tallest Shaolin priest you will ever meet. You would not believe the number of times I am called into a shop to reach something on a top shelf."

She laughed. "I can well imagine, and I am sure you never turn them down."

"Well, I am here to help." He said with a grin.

"Do you like your new life?" She asked as she gave the teapot and cups a quick wash.

"Most of the time, yes," Peter said as he picked up the dish towel and dried them.

" Only most of the time?" She asked.

He looked troubled as if weighing his words.

"It's alright. If you don't want to talk about it I understand. It was a very personal question."

"It's not that. It's just..." He sat down at the kitchen table and sighed. "Being at ease isn't my natural state of being. I don't remember a time that I wasn't angry and hiding it... or not hiding it. It makes things difficult sometimes."

The kettle's whistle blew and Leanne got up to make the tea, taking two dried balls of tea and flowers from a teak tea caddy that was older than she was, and placing them in the clear teapot. "I have had my own experience with anger." She said, pouring the hot water over them. They slowly unfurled as they rehydrated "I know how it can eat at your qi."

"The only person I know who is as calm and soothing as you is my father." He said. "It's hard to imagine you consumed by rage. "

"I had a twin brother." She said.

"Had?" He asked although he was certain he knew why she spoke in the past tense.

"We were betrayed by the man I loved." She said. "He abandoned us, Me, my brother, and my grandfather. He was hunted and my family took him in and sheltered him. We fell in love and we were going to leave together, but instead, he left in the night without telling me and when they came for him my brother was killed."

"I am so sorry," Peter said.

"I couldn't make myself stay there after that. It took a long time but I remade myself. It was painful, and the journey was the hardest I have been on but I did it." She poured the tea into both cups.

"Is that why you teach anger management classes?"

She nodded. "Anger destroys, even when it is never shown to another soul. It leaves nothing but tears and ashes in its wake."

"I don't know how to get past it. When I completed my training at the temple, I thought that would be enough to make things right, but I've been more angry since then than ever before. Meditation doesn't help... not like it should. It helps me make it through the day without doing something I'd regret but it doesn't chase the anger away. I can't find true peace. And right now things are worse."

"How so?" She asked, taking a sip of her tea.

He explained about his mother dying, and the destruction of the temple, and everything in between that and his Father's return. "And now there is a chance that she isn't dead either and my father has gone looking for her within hours of me turning in my badge."

"I'm so sorry," she said. "How could you not expect to be angry right now? It's grief, Peter. Every time you were abandoned it started the clock all over again. You will get past it. I am sure of it."

"You've known me a day. Really... what …3 hours or so total." He said with a smile.

"I know that you have willingly chosen a life of service, that you have chosen to put your life and soul at risk for the sake of others. I think it's a safe assumption that given time you can progress past anger."

"So does that mean you'd be willing to go on a second date?" He asked, only partly to deflect the conversation.

"I would love to go on a second date with you." She answered with a smile. "And I promise, no more anger management lectures."

"There was a lecture?"