Little Winter Moments

'Here's to us!' With a content grin Franklin drank from the 300$ champagne.

'Isn't it too early to be taking out of the good stuff?'

'Relax…' He poured a second glass and approached her. 'You've never looked prettier, you know.'

'I know.' She pushed him playfully until he found the couch and relaxed in it, while his foggy eyes carefully watched her unbutton her silk shirt.

'It's been too long.' He wiped mouth wit the back of his hand. 'Way too long…'

Blake leaned over her companion. He was too busy with the ample cleavage to notice a moving shadow behind him. A second later there was a burning sensation round his neck but he didn't manage anything else but cough two times before the sharp pain overcame him.

It took nearly a minute.

'You're late!' hissed Blake and instead of buttoning her shirt she checked Franklin's pulse.

'You doubt my skill?'

'I doubt everything,' said she and took a new glass. 'Cheers.'

'Cheers,' replied Higgins and downed his drink. Then he pulled Blake really close and bent, licking his way up from her bra to her neck.

'Wait, wait…'

'What else do you want?' He smashed the glass and started undoing his tie. Then he took his belt off.

'I don't think it's good enough.'

'And I think you're being paranoid.'

'This is not how I planned it.'

'I know.' He looked at Franklin's still-warm body. 'The worm wasn't supposed to die at least until Spring.'

'He started forgetting himself.'

'Well, now he is forgotten…' Higgins made another attempt at her neck.

'What about Caine?' She pulled again.

'Caine has left the building.'

'Sure?'

'Yes, for Goodness' sake! Today Harris escorted him to the hotel, he's checked out in the early afternoon.'

She examined him suspiciously.

'So all you're sure of is that he's left the hotel. Has he left the town?'

Higgins sighed. 'I'll check her place tomorrow, how's that?'

'What if he's there?'

'We'll speed up her expiration date, too, what's the big deal, Jeez!'

'...and his!'

'And his, sure.' He bit her ear. 'What's the deal with this guy?' He bit the other ear. 'How can a former cop scare you so much?'

She pulled again.

'What did you say?'

'OK, sorry, I didn't mean that he scares you, nobody can scare you..'

'No, no, the other thing.'

'Former cop?' He tried a third time. 'I'm getting a bit jealous…'

'Are you sure he's not a cop anymore? What is her doing here then?'

'Yes, I'm sure and he came to collect some street rascal.'

'And… and was he alone?!'

'What do you mean? Harris was with..'

'No, no, I mean in town, was he alone when he arrived in town?'

'Yes!'

She blinked.

'There was no other man with him? Older man, long, silver hair…'

'No.'

'Not even in the hospital?'

'No! What's going on?'

She considered.

'And you mean to tell me that your thugs who you even dared call deadly were… beaten by him alone?!'

'And Harris…'

'Never mind her…' She paced around. 'Listen, Phil, there's no way he has left Riverton. You hear me? No way!'

XXXXX

She'd been on the job for a week, yet Chief of Detectives Tara Jahn saw her colleagues' hangout only now. It took her a while to leave the office, partly because there was a queue for the showers, partly because of a letter that waited for her in her office. Reading it was a tough business, as was usually the case with long-haul news that come from the home one has not seen in nearly a decade, so for once she decided to indulge in the simple joys her cops indulged in so often – an evening at Chandler's.

Tara was in one of those moods when one wants to be alone but not alone. So she tried hard to be courteous and even forced a smile or two; well, a corner of her mouth crooked a bit as she nodded to the cops that acknowledged her presence.

'Congratulations, Leutenant,' came a voice from the left. Tara smiled politely, recognising Strenlich.

'Chief Strenlich, I hope you're satisfied with the outcome.'

'Couldn't be better,' almost sang the former marine and sipped beer, oblivious to his girlfriend's mean looks.

'Is it your first time in our club, Chief,' she asked. There was something in the way she pronounced 'our'.

'Yes, actually it is. I'm very busy.' Tara was already scanning for a free seat by the bar.

'So you won't be staying long tonight?' came Kelly's hopeful remark. Frank stared at her.

'Not at all, Det. Blake,' said Tara, having just spotted her prospective seat, conveniently far away from the corner where the Feds were. 'Not at all.' She nodded and left. She was about to take a seat on a comfy high chair when somebody coughed behind her.

'Detective Kinkaid…'

'Chief, hi, I just wanted to let you know my report is nearly ready, but I had to leave 'cause of some new clues on the Robbins case and..'

'Wow, TJ, TJ..'

'Yes?'

'Breathe!'

TJ took a breath. His face was reader than his hair.

'TJ…'

'Yes, Chief!'

Tara put a hand on his shoulder. 'You're not at work now, chill.'

TJ was staring.

'There's time for work and time for play – now it's time for play. Get a drink, relax.' She smiled as warmly as she could.

'Mm…'

'Go.' She patted him. 'Have fun.'

'He's never been that afraid of me,' came Strenlich's annoyed voice from behind. Kelly pulled him at a safe distance away from Tara, who had just ordered rum with coke.

Kermit approached. 'You're late.'

'And you're not to come from behind like that, it can be very unhealthy.'

He fixed his glasses and grinned.

'I'll remember that.'

They knocked glasses to seal their 'peace' and Tara casually leaned closer.

'Is Kelly Blake always this protective, or is it just with me.'

Kermit chuckled.

'Oh, believe me, whether it's Strenlich, whether it's a tall, athletic stud, it matters not.'

'Ha…' She drunk. Then for a moment her head seemed to sink; she didn't even notice Commissioner Simms who just joined their company.

'Tara?'

'Mm..'

'You OK?'

'Yeah… Oh, hi, Karen!'

'Hello to the hero of the hour!' The two women hugged warmly. Nobody realized how and why they were so close, but that's because nobody knew that Karen had spent days keeping Tara company in the hospital in Houston so her partner could return to Sloanville and receive his promotion to captainhood. Nor did they know that the city now boasted the most advanced police academy in the country thanks to funds that Commissioner Simms obtained with Tara's assistance. There was a lot they didn't know.

Besides, Karen Simms had to admit, of all women Peter had fallen for, Tara stood in a category of her own, and she liked her. She was by no means intimidated by the tall Chinese, which is why Tara liked her back.

'Just a day on the job.'

'That's one way to put it,' mumbled Kermit, images from the tournament rushing in his memory. 'Tonight's crooks are lucky nobody got crippled.'

'Really? Man… I've become such a softie…'

The three laughed.

'What's that?' All Karen wanted was to chat a little; she didn't expect Tara's grim response.

'Just a letter… from home… To remind me of what a dishonest, egoistic jerk I am…' She was playing with the envelope.

Karen and Kermit stared at each other. They knew nothing of Tara's home but that there was an apparently mythical Shaolin temple nearby and that it's been Tara's playground, all the way until she left China at the age of 16.

'Cracker?' Kermit knew how to break the ice. Tara helped herself and decided she might as well make a night out of it. She took her black coat off. She had changed into her ink-blue shirt but without the black blazer. The deep red scarf casually fell, revealing her long neck and a bit more than she was ready to give explanation for. She picked the scarf only to find Special Agent Maguire in beside her.

Tara took her usual polite expression but Jordan just stared. From behind Karen cleared her throat.

'Em, you may want to put that scarf back on…'

'Oh… Excuse me,' added she, looking at the young FBI agent and wrapped the scarf round her neck. 'It's not well healed yet.'

'Does it hurt?'

'N-no, not anym… No, it doesn't.'

XXXXX

'I haven't seen you like this before.'

'It's just that… one can never be too careful,' said Blake and pointed at Franklin's body. 'Take care of him, will ya?'

Higgins was getting impatient. He pulled her with force.

'My services are expensive, Marilyn.'

Finally relaxed, she bit his lower lip and slid hand down his crotch, then squeezed.

'That's no prob, I'm a heavy tipper.' She knelt.

XXXXX

Tara sipped, ordered a vodka-chilly cocktail and nested on her seat. The thing that caught Jordan unprepared was the fact that such a beautiful woman can have anything else on her body but perfect, silk skin, even if that's an Interpol top shot. At the base of her neck, Tara bore what was shaping out to be a sun-like mark. It looked a wound so deep that some parts were red, some blue, and the centre was a spot as purple as a king's mantle.

And no, Tara was not prepared to explain it to anyone, including not telling Jordan that it was the result of a bullet meant for her ex. Yes, that's how good Tara was – her complicated mind was so simply ordered, that 2+2 always made 4, and despite what people preferred to think, there was almost always a big, fat X marking the spot.

'May I?'

'...Sure…'

Tara felt nearly awkward. Simms casually stepped aside. And, as Jordan didn't seem to be particularly talkative, and Tara had to divert attention from uncomfortable questions, she broke the silence.

'So, how are you fining it at FBI? I understand you were one of 1-0-1 crowd few years ago.'

'It's… it's good… Very much what I expected… Yes, definitely…' Jordan nodded more than was socially accepted and couldn't bring herself to look Tara in the eye. She drank from her wine and inspected the bar's liquor selection.

The truth was she'd been telling pretty much everybody how exciting her job was, what pros the Feds were, and generally how awesome her new career was and how it was everything she ever wanted. Of course it was. Most definitely. Absolutely. However, facing an agent with nearly mythical status she found little use of getting into unnecessary descriptions, mostly because she probably knew the FBI's real face better than the 'everybody' in Jordan's life.

'Well, enjoy it…'

'Agent Jahn… I mean…'

'Now it's just Chief Jahn,' said Tara softly. Even though she was 5 years younger than Jordan, it felt and looked like she was a wise elder talking to a novice.

'Of course… Chief….' Jordan looked behind where her colleagues were, as if she was doing something wrong that they were not supposed to see. 'May I ask you something? That is, unless you're busy…'

Tara shrugged.

'Not at all, ask whatever you need.'

Jordan leaned and her voice dropped close to whisper.

'Why did you do it? Why did you quit?'

Tara was both flattered and surprised.

'And why do you want to know, you just got to know me.'

'But I've known of you for a long time.'

'You have?!' Now it was more uneasiness with flattery…

'You see… A profession like this is tough enough, and for a woman… it can border on a nightmare at times.'

'I get your point,' nodded Tara.

'So, women like you, or the La sisters..' Tara chuckled. '...or Gina Socaro from CIA…'

'Oh, she is good, we've worked together.'

' 's what I mean – you, guys, speak for all women, every small step for you is a giant step for all women! ...Boy, that was tacky…'

Tara laughed.

'No… I get your point, though I had no idea I was this significant.'

'You are!'

'I just…. I learned very early that unless I hit first, men will run me over and send me to serve them tea and biscuits.' She emptied her glass and banged with it on the bar. 'I've made them hate and fear me, but unfortunately,' she looked at Jordan, 'that's the only way it works with Western men…'

'I agree on that, just… I don't think I could do it…'

'Be firm and… work on your upper body strength.' Tara squeezed then patted Jordan's arm which made the former cop rather uneasy. She didn't mean to be patronising, but she was hoping the federal agent would finally leave, this was becoming very much like a Greek comedy. Or tragedy?

'See…' Jordan leaned closer again. 'You were a legend. Everyone was talking that you could be the youngest general since…. Well, since Alexander…' Tara chuckled and shook head. 'Why would you leave, never mind us women. You have everyone's dream career. Had, I mean had.'

'Ah… Now I get it…'

'Well… Why did you quit?'

Tara sighed and looked at Jordan as the special agent was checking the entrance for probably the 10th time. Herself she had checked the club several times and she couldn't just like that tell Jordan that they were looking for the same man. The thought made her realize why she was so courteous with the inquisitive blond woman – guilt, it was guilt. Guilt, that tomorrow Jordan would be on her way back, living a life she most definitely wasn't happy about; guilt that Tara was most likely going to start what Jordan had ended; and above all – guilt that within a couple of days Tara and Jordan's ex had achieved a level of closeness that neither she, nor any of the multitude of other ex-s had ever been even close to achieving.

'Why did I quit?'

How can I tell you, Jordan? I never gave a proper explanation to my best friend, not even to Woodward. Who are you that I should explain it to you, of all people?

As Tara's second drink for the evening arrived, so did the answer: You still have feelings for him, don't you? As does Jody, and probably Kelly… I barely know him and yet we're already close and intimate in a way that transcends carnal instincts. I'm sorry, Jordan, I really am.

'See… How do you imagine my life?'

'Well, travel, men at your feet, massive amount of medals, awards… money…'

'Yeah, I've got all that. And you know what I don't have? Time!'

'Time?!'

'Time. I can't spend my money, I can't go on holiday – I never had time. But what I did have was a condo in a skyscraper, where I'd sleep roughly 2-3 weeks per year.'

'But all that success… You're what, 30?'

'I'm 25.' Jordan gulped. 'And… when I'd come 'home', my success and I would have dinner, then we'd curl on the bed and have a good night's sleep, my success and I, just the two of us.'

Tara took a sip from her refilled glass and Jordan just remained silent, for a while.

'So… you just want family?! I can't believe it.'

Tara burst out laughing – this time it was nothing less than pity.

'Just family, is that how successful career people call it now? Just family?'

'Well, it's not much of an achievement, is it?'

The former Interpol super-cop just shook head.

'Didn't they say that 50% of marriages in America end with divorce?'

'Yeah, I think so. What has that…'

'In this case, it may not be an achievement, but is one that 50% of Americans find rather hard.' It was her turn to lean. 'The truth is I just needed a break, I closed the door at the Pol but left the windows open.' She winked.

'But… you're a cop now!'

'Oh, this… Kermit asked me, I owed him one. I've got a small inheritance in Sloanville, came to check it out, though I might as well help out a friend.'

'Wow, sounds great.'

'Nah, probably will end up selling it…'

'I don't think so,' came Kermit's grim voice from behind.

'Sneaking upon the ladies, Captain?'

'No, just you.' He stretched and tried her drink. 'Lord….' The girls laughed. 'How are you, Jordan?'

'Living the dream.' Tara's right eyebrow went up almost by itself. 'And congratulations on the captain thing, know I'm a bit late.'

'No probs.' He pointed at Tara. 'Don't listen to her, she's not going anywhere.'

'Am I not?'

'Not until I'm done with my part of the deal.' He wasn't smiling any more. 'After that do what you want.'

'Can't I go home?'

'Only. When I'm. Done.' Tara rolled eyes and Jordan looked bewildered.

'What?..'

'I was planning to go home to my village but this guy has other plans...Apparently.'

'So do I!' A new voice had joined the group. Tara recognised it.

'Martin?' She turned and saw a dark-blond man in his 40s smile at her. 'Martin Bradshaw!'

'Hey, buddy! Missed me?'

XXXXX

Peter decided he'd better visit Goddard's home before dawn. He told nothing to his partners, for various reasons. Harris was anyway going to visit Franklin again in the morning, try to scare him into an unplanned move.

The night was still, the falling snow somehow exaggerating the stillness. Uneasy as usual Peter was helping himself to some linden flower tea; he couldn't even remember packing it. At least he remembered his strive to try and keep certain simplicity in the utilisation of herbs, nothing like the Ancient's alchemy potions.

Exhausted, his elbows landed heavily on the kitchen counter. The headache was not throbbing any more, by now he could feel his head pulsate.

They started before his blackout in the morning, several bright, flashing images. Few more snapped around noon. But the mayhem started during the talk with Goddard. Sea, forest, blood, mariachi, Shaolin temple, fight, audience, Shaolin disciples, white sand, dancing, volcano, pain, Lo Si, documents, his mother, Kermit, flight, motorcycles, anger – a grotesque sequence of hundreds of incoherent, absolutely irrelevant to each other images, was rushing down his mind like an avalanche. Where had he been? Volcano?! Yet, it was there – in his tarnished memory - a weird side-wise eruption… and his father. And tears. And Paul. And an unknown red-haired woman...

The kettle was bubbling. Peter turned the heat off and let the brew simmer. The sound of water falling on tiles at the distance reminded him that his host for the evening was taking a shower.

He thought about her. Why was it that he didn't want to go to the end with her? Nobody knew him here, none of them was in a relationship, he hadn't touched a woman for nearly 2 years…

Peter shuddered. Yes, this he remembered, his body remembered, and no, he definitely didn't expect his new career to have this kind of side effect.

The sound of falling water muffled. Peter poured tea and drank directly. Then out of nowhere he opened few kitchen drawers until in one of them he finally found an ice cream scoop. It was good and heavy. He even tested it – it was fit to hammer steaks with it. He hit his palm. Then again, a tad stronger. He grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter as tight as he could and held the scoop with other hand.

1… 2….

'What are you doing?'

Before he thought of a suitable lie Harris grabbed the scoop.

'Are you actually losing your mind?'

He was pale.

'I think I'm getting there.'

'This is only a temporary solution.' She waved the scoop in front of his face and demonstratively threw it in the nearest drawer. 'Want ibuprofen?'

'That's temporary, too.' Peter went back to his tea.

'Tea?'

'Sure, thanks.'

He handed her a steaming cup and finally noticed that her only peace of clothing was a pink towel round her torso and one round the head. She was barefoot. Her skin looked perfect.

Peter considered again. Now this could work…

'What?' Joanna noticed the change in his expression and her stomach flipped.

'I don't know how long I can take it. This…'

'Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?' She came closer.

'No, no, they'll just say the same thing.'

'Can I do anything at all?'

He left his mug on the counter, his free hand pulling her gently.

'Maybe…'

They kissed.

XXXXX

Tara's stern features underwent a change so dramatic that pretty much the whole place was looking how she jumped off her seat and threw herself round the neck of a Robert Redford doppelganger who was as tall as she was.

'It was about time!' They hugged tight and then he cupped her head with both hands and examined her.

'It was too long and you look… awful…'

She chuckled.

'And you look great!' She ruffled his hair and invited him to the bar.

'No way, my treat.' Jordan moved away to make space, so did Kermit, only he also did a short, barely-there nod with his head. It was enough, however, for the person it was intended for to reciprocate.

Agent Bradshaw was about to order, still hugging Tara, when the corner of his eye caught a motion behind. The instinct was to turn immediately, and unlike hundreds of times before, he found himself completely unprepared.

'Wow!' whispered he.

'What?'

'Who is that?'

'Who…'

'Come on, introduce me!' He pulled a very confused Tara and headed for a table in the corner, right by an odd-looking crawling plant (which everyone was calling Gary).

'Hello!' purred Martin.

'H-hi,' said Mary Margaret.

Martin shrugged Tara; she almost fell.

'Uhm, Mary Margaret, this it my good friend from Interpol, Agent Martin Bradshaw.' Martin nodded. 'Martin, this is Detective Mary Margaret Scalany, one of my best officers.'

'Enchanté!' Scalany stretched her hand but instead of shaking it, as was the custom, Martin kissed it, his eyes never leaving Mary Margaret's blushing face.

'I…' Her head was empty. She looked at Tara for help, but her new chief seemed equally speechless.

'Right, I..' Nobody paid her attention, so quietly Tara headed back to her seat.

'I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Scalany! It… is Miss, right?' Martin sat and tried to give Mary Margaret the softest look he was capable of.

'Mhm.' Scalany stuttered. Her knees gave in and she sat back to her seat. 'H-ha…' She cleared her throat. 'Have you been to Sloanville before, Agent Bradshaw?'

'A couple of times, but I never had time to appreciate its beauty.' He smiled; she was struggling to draw a breath. Not bearing his overpowering sight she looked away and all of a sudden remembered a tiny detail.

'Em… Th-this is my colleague, Detective Jody Powell…' Opposite was Jody, leaning bored on one arm, holding a half-empty glass. (it was actually almost full, but for many reasons, Jody Powell's glasses were always half-empty)

'Oh, I'm sorry!' Martin really had not noticed that there was a second person on the table. Actually, the moment he laid eyes on Mary Margaret, all other persons ceased to exist. 'A pleasure to meet you, Detective…'

'Powell. It's Powell!' was the hurt answer. She put so much pressure on the [p] that she spat a bit.

'Detective Powell!' Martin nodded, or bowed, even he wasn't sure. He showed no inclination on kissing any part of hers so they shook hands, as was the custom. 'I… Oh, where's she… oops!..' His eyes returned to Scalany and his voice back to cotton candy in right under 2 seconds. 'May I offer you a drink, Miss?'

'Please, call me Marg…. Sc… Call me M-mary Marg-garet, everybody does.'

'Really?' Jody was talking to her glass.

'OK, Mary Margaret…'

'A-actually I was about to go get another when you…. When….'

'What are you drinking?'

'Just wine…'

'No, no, no, you cannot drink just wine!'

'I can't?!'

'You can drink only the best of wines!' purred he and got up. 'Care for another gin tonic, Detective Powell?'

'Yes! Please!' She spat again and kept murmuring when he disappeared. 'So I'm not Miss?… Dope!' She looked back at Scalany, at which moment her friend probably didn't even remember her name. Mary Margaret was merely following Martin's every move; she felt like she was flying.

'He looks like Robert Redford, doesn't he?'

'I think I'll puke,' replied Jody with aversion. Mary Margaret was neither seeing not hearing.

XXXXX

She was trying to take his breath, or it seemed, so eager she was. He thought that this is probably why didn't enjoy it as much as he usually enjoyed kisses, from what he remembered at least. But he didn't stop, why should he?

She pulled away and led him to the living area. By the couch she stopped and her hands weaved themselves into his hair, she kissed him even more eagerly. Slowly he sat down. Joanna used the chance to push and straddle him. She leaned and they kissed again, then those towels finally fell.

Peter observed with delight but his face remained fairly expressionless. She eagerly made her way to his belt while his hands slid down her back. He got up and gently removed her hair, kissing the neck.

'Are you going to wait for me?'

He startled.

'What's wrong?'

'What did you say?'

'I said if anything was wrong.'

'No, no, before that.'

'N-nothing…'

Peter checked his surroundings. The air was humid with the aroma of freshly boiled linden tea. The only light was coming from the kitchen.

'Are you sure we're alone?'

Out of sheer respect for him, Harris also looked around.

'I believe we are.'

The moment he removed attention from the detective's sensual ministrations the flow of images reappeared. It never ceased, as a matter of fact, just he had really tried to concentrate his attention on something else.

Peter's features softened. He kissed her. She responded, her desire stronger than her logic, which is why she decided not to pay attention to his disturbingly empty gaze. He refused to give up. Contrary to, or rather because of the total lack of cooperation from his brain, and his body, Peter continued to try and force himself into something that was clearly not going to happen.

XXXXX

Her talk with Tara suddenly over, Jordan headed for one of the tables. Her visit at the precinct had been all about work and she didn't have the chance to meet the old friends.

'Hey you!'

'Heeey!'

Morgan hugged her former colleague.

'How are you?' asked Jordan warmly and held her friend's shoulders.

Morgan got the chills immediately. There it was, the pity, the sympathy. She'd expect that at least Jordan would understand her.

'Let's sit.'

Morgan tried to chit-chat on anything but her elephant in the room. The talk inevitably drifted to the precinct's new faces.

'He's cute…'

'Morris is pain in the neck. He's new, like the chief.'

'And the tall one, ehm…'

'Callahan. He's a veteran now, he was the replacement of P…'

It was not one elephant, actually, it was an entire jungle.

'Oh…'

Jordan felt obliged to speak first. 'Jan, it's ok, it's been nearly two years now, come on…'

'I know, just… You know…' They both laughed.

'So, do you keep any contact with him at all?'

'Who, Peter? Of course! He's here nearly as often as ever, just… more low-key.'

'Is he still doing that street kids thing?'

'Yes…' Morgan's voice took a strange curve, like Peter was supposed to be doing anything else. 'He's also teaching kung fu.'

'Is he? How nice. And… do you know…'

'He's very busy, I haven't seen him with a woman since J…'

'Got it.'

Another awkward silence followed. Jordan had managed to play it friendly with Kelly but with Jody it was plain impossible. And since none of the two women really knew what ever happened between Jody and Peter, they were both desperate to change the topic.

'So, the new chief is quite the character, ain't she?'

'She's alright.'

'She must be thinking very highly of herself…' Women hated Tara. For reasons that only women could fathom. But they despised her. Always. Wherever she went. All of them. Jordan was no exception.

'She is alright, Jordan, she really is.'

Morgan, as it seemed, was an exception.

The detective finally opened about her personal tragedy and how Tara helped her reintegrate to life in 101st. There had hardly been another time when Special Agent Maguire had felt so much like a total jerk as now. She so badly wanted Chief Jahn to be the cold-hearted bitch everybody thought her to be, and then this.

'Janice…. That's incredible. Really. I… I'm sorry I rushed judging her…'

'Told you she's cool.'

'And did you really get a book?'

'Yes, Pride and Prejudice – can you believe I never read it? It's great.'

'Better than the series?' The ladies giggled.

'And the chocolates were to-die-for. ...And, as for Chief Jahn, you saw for yourself – she's really, really good in what she does.'

'Yes…' No, Jordan had no intention on becoming an exception… Which is why she felt rather playful.

'Do you think she's seeing anybody?'

'I really don't know, hon.'

'I'll ask her.'

Jordan finished her wine and headed for the bar where Tara was talking to the Redford look-a-like.

XXXXX

Joanna's fingers kept crawling under his sweater. Peter tried to relax and let her kiss his chest, desperate to make his body get in the game. However, the only thing moving was the former cop's topsy-turvy mind.

The now very excited lady came close and kissed him on the lips, too aroused to pay attention to the fact that her intended lover wasn't even looking at her.

This time he heard it clearer, it came from inside his head.

'I'll be working for you till the end of time if I have to.'

He stopped. Automatically his free arm pushed the lady to the side. He tried to get up but froze midways, his mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he didn't. He got up.

'What is it now? We're completely alone, Peter!' Harris was not a happy camper. She was actually getting pretty angry, and for a reason.

'I…' Peter was still staring at the nowhere then abruptly he turned. 'Something has happened. I… I have to meditate.'

Out of politeness he faked a smile and caressed her bare shoulder, in the friendliest of ways. Too friendly. She didn't exactly appreciate it. Clumsily she wrapped the towel round her body and ran to her room, the banging of her door being the only sound.

Not particularly moved, Peter poured the remaining tea.

'That was close,' exhaled he in a quiet relief and kissed the pendant round his neck, this time pretty conscious about it. He was about to go back to the guest room when almost had to smack himself on the head. He went back and opened the cupboard hiding the one thing he hadn't tried yet – booze. He took the nearly-full bottle of scotch away.

The tea remained alone on the kitchen counter.

XXXXX

Martin made a gesture to the bartender to come over.

'A bottle of your best wine… Got Bordeaux?'

'I'll check,' was the cold reply.

'Um, and a glass of gin tonic…' He looked at Tara who was on leaning on her hand, only her expression was not as bored as Jody's. '...And a glass of Bacardi…' He looked at her again, just with the corner of his eyes. '...black, with lemon zest.' She kept staring. 'On the rocks.'

Finally he returned Tara's unbearable look.

'What?'

'Are you high?'

'Only high on life, dear.' He grinned.

She checked his forehead.

'Hm, you are a bit warm…'

'I'm not sick. Stop it!' He passed his credit card much to the bartender's displeasure. 'Hey, pal…' He added 20$ tip. Now the bartender was also smiling. 'Let say that… I've taken a new approach to life.'

'Which is…'

'Cease the moment, life's too short.' He continued in broken Cantonese. 'There's no yesterday, or tomollyow,' Tara chuckled. '...There's only today.'

'You mean tomorrow?'

'Whatever.' He took the bottle and the gin to the table and came back for the rest. 'Coming?'

'Sure, in a while.'

'Tara, what's wrong?'

'You shouldn't keep the lady waiting.' Martin looked back and made Scalany a sign that he'd be back in a minute. She nodded and smiled, that was enough.

'I've got that covered. Now, what's up?'

'It's a complicated answer…' She was playing with a yellowing envelope that must have been white at some point.

'OK… For the time being, right now, in this moment, what's wrong now?'

'You're sounding like a Buddhist, you know.'

'That's because I am.'

She nearly broke her neck when she turned to him.

'...When?'

'You know all those family influences people talk about? Think they have a point.'

'You'll tell me some other time.' She opened the envelope.

'I will, of course. What's that?'

'That is a letter from home.'

'Right, you haven't been there yet, have you?'

'Nope.'

'And it's not good news?'

'Oh, it's excellent news.' She took the letter which had arrived with nearly a month delay and showed him a photo. 'That's Lo, a boy I used to take care of.'

The photo was of a young, well built man with shaved head, he was outside a temple.

'He was this shy, chubby kid with spotty face. His dream was to be a priest and I supported him as much as humanly possible. I promised him that not only was he to become a priest but that I'd be there, by his side, watching him take the brands.'

She smiled bitterly. Behind them was Jordan, she never approached to ask her question, she didn't have to; she only listened, unable to move or hear anything else.

'And there he is now,' continued Tara, 'A priest! He's taken the brands of the Shaolin order, my order, more than a month ago and where was I? Stuck in the middle of my life's nowhere…'

Without a single sound Jordan left and returned to her colleagues. She remained quiet for the rest of the evening.

'Hey, hey…' Martin tried to hug her but she nervously shrugged his arm off.

'Nearly 10 years I've been away and at what cost? What for? What was the point?'

'Look, look, you obviously need sleep. The important thing is that I'm here now, you're finally taking care of your father's house, and everything will be ok. I promise!'

'Sure. Of course. By the way, don't get too excited about the house, I'll be moving to a hotel one of these days.'

'Why?!'

'It's too big, too cold. It's oppressively empty. But you can still see it, of course.'

'Well, yeah!'

Tara smiled and leaned towards her friend, just enough not to worry Scalany.

'And it's not all bad, you know, Ja Chen is coming.'

'Wasn't that your best friend from childhood?'

'Best friend and sparring buddy,' laughed Tara. 'Yes, he's coming with the circus, apparently he's acrobat now.' She giggled. 'I really miss him.'

'There you go! Now, coming for another round?'

'How can I say no?'

Tara never let herself sulk too long. Besides, tonight was all about Martin and, apparently, his new crush. Tara lagged behind and observed him. He was changed, and that was not only the sudden interest in her native tongue. Fate made it so that they had had very little time together for the past 3 years and all Tara knew was that her friend was no longer nobody's son and they both had agreed that Martin had to figure it for himself first before he could give her any details. He only told her she'd like it.

The precinct's new chief grabbed her coat and her drink and joined the party.

X

'Sorry to barge in, don't mind me.' Tara was talking mostly for the sake of Jody's inhospitable look. 'I'll just sit here and… try to figure what's wrong with him.' She pushed Martin gently.

'Do you have to be such a pest?'

'That's what I do, Marty.'

'Don't call me that!' hissed he and smiled back to Mary Margaret.

'I like it… Marty?…'

'That… that's not a name I use in public,' said Martin and glared and Tara. Then he tried to change the subject. 'Now if you allow me, I'd like to propose a toast, to the old friends,' he looked at Tara, 'and to the new opportunities!' He looked at Mary Margaret; all of a sudden she flushed again.

'Cheers!'

'So, guys… Have you known each other for long?' It occurred to Jody she should try dig out some dirt and hopefully help her friend wake up.

The two friends were completely undeterred, they only smiled mischievously at each other.

'Well,' started Tara, 'I joined the Pol pretty much immediately after I left my village and this guy here took me under his wing.' She squeezed his arm. 'I don't think I would have survived without him.'

Victoriously Jody saw the growing discomfort with Mary Margaret.

'The truth is I was absolutely furious – she was only 16 for Heaven's sake!' He smiled. 'We started feeding the machine with children. I couldn't allow them take advantage of her talents.'

'So… you were invited to join Interpol as a teenager?' Scalany would not give up easy.

'Let say it started with a few soldiers that found the hard way that messing with sixteen-year-old girls can be rather painful. One was an Interpol top-dog, and I wanted to get out of there as soon as can be. The rest is history.'

'Is that normal?'

'Actually it is,' added Martin. 'Agencies love hiring orphans or even kids from the street with special talents. They train them, they usually become some of the best and… they usually don't live to see retirement.' He looked proudly at Tara. 'Not all of them, of course.'

'That sounds like a story from the movies,' smiles Scalany. She was determined not to feel threatened.

'You serious?'

Tara and Martin preferred not hear Jody's remark, but Tara's female intuition was practically screaming at her that certain clarification was in order.

'And so we became friends. Martin is like a…'

'Do not say father, I'm warning you!' He shook finger.

'...an older brother! Jeez, one joke, man.'

'It wasn't funny. I'm not that old'

'Old? Not at all, you're what… 35?' She winked at Mary Margaret and took a sip from her drink.

Scalany's initial discomfort receded. In fact, she fell ever more comfortable, she fell….in the right moment, in the right time.

'How long have you been in Interpol, Martin?'

'Haha, nice try.'

'He won't tell you,' grinned Tara and poked her former colleague.

'How long haveyou been in 101st?'

'Since I left the Academy, pretty much.'

Martin moved unnerved.

'Scalany here,' added Tara, 'prides herself with being the youngest cop in the history of 101st, ever, to make it to detective.'

'Indeed.' Mary Margaret folded arms in a proud manner. Few people knew this little achievement of hers, and experience taught her not to share it too openly.

'You're what… 3rd in Sloanville?'

'Second, if you please.'

'Look at that,' purred Martin and his eyes concentrated on the brunette even more. 'Tough and pretty, I like that.'

'No…' Mary Margaret blushed. The fact that he made her that specific compliment in Tara's presence made it count twice.

'Jesus.' Jody waved the bartender to keep the alcohol coming.

Martin's mood, however changed. He remembered a little detail and that quickly sobered him up. Nobody realised it. On the contrary, Mary Margaret's bravery was growing.

'So, did you mention earlier you're an orphan?'

'Yeah… well…'

'There we go again…'

Martin pushed Tara and tried to answer without too many details.

'I am… was…. Am an orphan… I was raised by my aunt…. My story is like Jane Eyre's.'

'How?'

'You know, my relatives blamed me for my mother's sins, sent me to a boarding school, so the home harassment was finished fairly early.'

'I'm so sorry!' Instinctively she put hand on his, which was the first sign for the other two ladies that they were slowly becoming redundant.

'At least my story has a happy ending – I became a decent cop and discovered a father and brothers who are very much alive and.. and I'm not nobody anymore…' He looked at his feet as if feeling guilty that he was no longer the bastard he'd been raised to believe he was.

Tara shook head.

'That's amazing, Martin, I said it before, and I say it again – nobody deserves it more than you do.'

'Your turn will come, Tara,' he said very quietly.

'And until then – I want to know everything. It's an embarrassment that your best friend doesn't know about the most important event in your life.'

'And you will. Set the date and we'll go on a long overdue catch-up dinner.'

'The hell we will!'

Tara nodded at the other two ladies and got up.

'Now, if you excuse me, it's time for mommy to go to bed.'

Martin jumped.

'Already?'

'Martin, I'm tired, I really am.'

He saw the barely flickering life in her eyes.

'I can see that. OK… well… Good night, sweetie!'

Tara was fixing her coat. She rolled eyes and hit him, then turned to Scalany.

'He's a great guy, but doesn't know a squat about women.' Then she looked at her friend. 'If you're trying to win a lady you don't call another one 'sweetie' in her presence, you dope.'

Martin fell his palms sweat.

'Right…'

Tara grabbed her bag and turned to Scalany again.

'I'll work with him, he's got potential.' Then she patted her friend's cheek. 'Still wonder why you're ever single?'

'No, not really…'

'OK, dear, I'll see you tomorrow, right?'

He turned to the ladies on the table.

'You see, she keeps doing it!'

'Martin, 'dear' – ok, 'sweetie' – not so much.'

The turned to the detectives – they were nodding in agreement.

'Won't you leave finally?' He moved her chair to make way – he was a proper gentleman, after all. 'Join me for breakfast tomorrow?'

'Sure, can do. Have you changed your hotel?'

'Have we met before?'

'Four Seasons it is. I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye, ladies.'

A second later Martin was back on his chair and completely at the mercy of Scalany's eyes. Tara shook head and tried to head for the exit but there were more people that wanted to bid her good night.

'Leaving early, Chief?'

'Staying late, Marsters?'

'We're celebrating.' He was content and relaxed, so much that he casually laid hand on Jordan's leg. She removed it nervously and glared at him. Tactfully Tara pretended she hadn't seen anything.

'Well, cheers then, for the successful operation!' Her own glare made Marsters far more uncomfortable than Jordan's. Then she left.

'Another round, Langue?'

'Hit me!' said Langue and burped. 'Ahh, good night, my future wife!'

'Can you get any less professional, Scott,' came Jordan's voice.

'I'm trying, sweet cheeks,' he purred and grabbed his 3rd beer for the evening. 'But this woman… she is something.'

'More air than substance I say,' said Strenlich who had come over to discuss his private investigation with Marsters. Behind them Agent Bradshaw was finding it ever more difficult to pretend he was not hearing their banter.

'Oh…' Marsters himself thought so but after what he saw tonight, even his prejudice towards the 25-year-old had been numbed down.

'I've had enough of them hot shots with hero complex.' He ordered another beer.

'Hero complex?' Martin couldn't hold himself any longer. 'Jeez, people, don't they teach you psychology in the Police Academy? They still did in my time…'

He didn't even get up, as if others were supposed to be standing in his presence.

'I know how agents with Hero complex look like, Chief, I've worked with them,' he said and glared severely at Strenlich who had found himself trapped and with no other choice but to listen. 'They're usually inconsiderate egoists who seek every chance to show off how good they are. They care about nobody but themselves and their thoughtlessness ends up with casualties, almost without exception.'

He got up. 'Let me tell you about people like Tara Jahn. They do care, only too much; the only people they don't care about are themselves.'

The company got still, everyone was listening. Martin noticed nothing and continued.

'Suiciders?' said Langue casually and burped again.

'No, agent. I'm sure you can read about them in your old books. I mean the kind of folk one step before the suicide, but fortunately too sane to go there. They care about the people around them so much that they'd gladly die for them. People like Tara simply consider others' lives much more precious than their own. They don't go alone into battle to show off, but to protect their fellow officers. They want to make sure that the whole thing will go down with as little casualties as possible. And if there's dying to be done, they're your men.'

A few detectives bent eyes full of guilt.

'And they're easily recognised. Search for the loners; people with no close family to relay to, people who have been through tragedies, loss, abandonment. Such people don't care what happens to them. They believe if they died no one would give a shit, no one would notice. They keep to themselves and let no one near them.

Now everyone was looking down, Strenlich included. 'I got it,' he said.

'In your new Lieutenant's case, for instance, if there are officers with families, children, or even simply officers in a relationship, she'd put herself in front of an army rather than having them risking their lives.'

'There's always someone in a relationship,' remarked gravely Jordan.

'Yeah, well… exactly. Look for the orphan on the squad. They usually make amazing agents and officers, safe many lives and rarely live to see grand-children. They die heroes, but they don't live like such.'

Martin looked at Strenlich who didn't dare return the look; Martin had hit a sore spot. 'So, Chief Strenlich, next time you blame Tara Jahn for playing the hero and not acting by the book, remember… she's probably saving your life… or your officers'…'

'Another drink?' he asked Mary-Margaret very gently and sat back to his table.

'Yes, please,' she answered very quietly and for a moment got lost in his enigmatic eyes. Again.

Only the two men from FBI were fairly lively, not particularly touched by Agent Bradshaw's words. Marsters broke the silence.

'Interesting picture… Very true, I have to admit. She still acted foolishly, however.'

'…said the special agent who was glad to observe the whole thing comfortably from his corner, armed with binoculars.' Kermit also came to wish good night but he also needed to say something, on top of his delicate relations with Strenlish.

Martin offered a fresh glass to Skalany and continued, mostly talking to Kermit, though ti was meant for others.

'Let me guess… The gang's leaders stranded from the main group, went in a direction nobody would have guessed because it was judged as too improbable, and Tara was waiting right there because she was the only one who had the balls to suggest the impossible…'

By the agents' amazed look Martin knew he hit the target.

'That's my girl!'

With content look he offered cheers to Mary Margaret and turned again, this time towards the Feds.

'Let me guess again… She waited for them to come close, landed from nowhere on top or near them, and then laced them faster than you can spell your name?'

Score again.

'How many, 3... 4?'

'Five,' answered Marsters, really quietly.

Martin lifted glass in a silent cheer and turned back to Mary-Margaret after he took a sip.

'How's the wine? I took the liberty of getting you something a little bit more… elegant.'

'I love it! Why did you choose that for me?'

'Because I thought it would suit you. I was right.' He took another sip and Skalany felt her cheeks burn again.

'So, I guess there's no point in me asking her for a drink?' Langue showed remarkable stubbornness.

Martin turned and explored him with contempt. 'Nope, sorry, you're not her type.'

' 'Cause she can take me, right?'

'Oh, no, that's only the cherry on the cake.'

'What's her type then,' asked Marsters out of sheer curiosity.

'I've no damn idea,' shrugged Martin. 'As far as I'm concerned 99% of Earth's male population doesn't fit. Someone who can handle her, I guess…if he exists. …So, you buddy over there - aim lower.' Martin winked at him and decided it was time to concentrate entirely on his beautiful partner.

Agent Bradshaw took too much pleasure in defending the honour of his protégée to notice the deep effect his little speech had made on the detectives. Plagued by guilt Strenlich finished his drink and left hastily, briefly kissing Kelly and telling her they would meet home. The talk with Marsters could wait.

As for Martin Bradshaw, he had no idea that five minutes ago he had delivered the psychological profile of his own nephew…

X

Morgan was amongst the last to leave. Not that she didn't have to work tomorrow – she decided she'd start for once living her life. So she drank two of the most expensive cocktails the place had to offer and finally decided it was time to go home. She found Jordan as we was coming from the restroom.

'OK, I gotta go now.'

'Sorry we didn't chat more…'

'Don't worry. As long as you're happy with your life.'

'Of course. It's awesome, Janice, it's… everything I expected it to be, and more.' She nodded again too much than was accepted in the cases of people content with their lives. 'Mom and dad are so proud!'

'And…' Janice leaned closer. 'How is Don?'

'Oh, he's great; he's a professional, he's ambitious… And he's… yes, he's great. My parents love him.'

'He doesn't forget your birthdays, I assume.'

'No, he doesn't forget anything,' grinned Jordan and casually waved her elegant wrist which sported a glorious white gold bracelet with blue topaz stones.

'Wow!'

'And the necklace…'

'Stunning!'

'I know.'

'Well, you deserve it, Jordy.'

Jordan smiled. Of course she did. Her parents were so proud. And everyone praised her. She was finally on the right career path. Of course she deserved it!

'Coming, honey? ...Detective!' Marsters was way more courteous than in the morning.

'Be right there.' Jordan was putting her scarf. 'I guess we're leaving tomorrow. Keep in touch, ok?'

'Of course!'

The two friends hugged and parted. Janice prepared to leave and by the way noticed Jody leaving with Morris.

Jordan looked one last time at her former hangout – yes, she was happy. Of course she was. Totally.

X

Fortunately she had showered at the precinct, so Tara had the satisfaction on diving under the blankets immediately. She only made her sleeping tea and settled for the night – nightmares or not, she had to sleep… somehow.

The flames in the fire place were her favourite companion now. Naturally she was happy that Martin was here but he had more pleasant engagements now. She smiled; of them two at least one had to find happiness eventually.

Tara closed eyes and remembered what life was like few days ago, few days and five seconds ago, to be more precise, when life was good… at least better. Hard to believe what five miserable seconds can do to your world. Before those fateful seconds everything was simple, there were no names and the past they drag with them. Five seconds before which she was just Tara, andhe was just Peter, two anonymous who had only future ahead of them. Five seconds after and they suddenly had names: he was a Caine, descendant of one of the most ancient and revered lineages of Shaolin, and she was Jahn, Lee from her mother's side, and kin to one of the world's most wanted crime lords, who also happened to be mortal enemy of the aforementioned revered lineage.

She turned on the other side with a groan and tried to sleep.

X

In another world away from nightmares and miserable past, a new couple was born. At least it was getting there. Martin and Mary Margaret knew nothing of each other, pasts were non-existent, as was everything that surrounded them.

At one point Mary Margaret turned to ask Jody's opinion of a particularly funny joke and was astonished to find her seat empty.

'I hope I won't get you in trouble.'

'Not at all.' Smiled she, and kept smiling for the rest of the evening.

They were the last of the gang to leave Chandler's, and as if that was not enough, Martin took her on an improvised midnight snack at a local sushi bar.

The night was ominously warm for this time of year and Mary Margaret predicted massive storms, as apparently had happened in 93' when they had had summertime for the Chinese New Year and Arctic winter 48 hours later.

They walked, and laughed, and talked. Yes the unknown was plaguing them, both had hidden fears and as it seemed, only Mary Margaret dared talk about them.

The taxi stopped few blocks from her place.

'I've never been to San Francisco.'

'Don't worry, it's overrated.'

'Really?'

'N-no, not really, it's quite lovely.'

'Are you teasing me? And I was hoping you'd take me there someday.' She was practically purring.

'I'd love to. As long as we keep away from the quarter where my relatives live…'

'You mean your family?'

'I mean my relatives. My family is in France… and in Sloanville. You know, my father, my brothers and nephew, Tara.' The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced he'd better skip the Shaolin-related details.

'OK…' Mary Margaret stopped. 'I gotta ask.'

'Anything.'

'Look, I know it's too soon and maybe too personal, but I need to know – is there anything between you and the Chief? Or is there going to be in the future, has there been in the past?'

Having heard the question hundreds of times before, Martin massaged his temple.

'I just don't want to walk into something,' she continued. 'I went through this bad heartbreak two years ago and it was the hardest thing I've done in my life and… I just can't afford it one more time. And normally I wouldn't ask, but you're turning out to be so great and….' Martin put a finger on her cold lips.

'If I had a nickel every time a woman asked me that, I'd be a rich man. I do understand where you're coming from. Tara is… OK, for a long time she was the only real family I've had. We've been through thick and thin, and she's the only person in the world I'd trust implicitly.'

He felt Mary Margaret relax.

'She is like a sister to me and even the idea of anything intimate to me feels like incest.'

Mary Margaret smiled.

'Well, I'll ask, too, better get this over with now – Tara is a part of my life, I owe it to her to begin with. My relationship with her has costed me at least four...maybe five or more intimate relationships and while women tend to cheat, lie, break my heart – she's the one woman who'll never do it.' He came closer and took Scalany's hands in his. 'I really think we're onto something great here, Mary Margaret. It would be a shame not to give it a try but I must know you're OK with Tara being in my life. Otherwise… I'll be wasting the time of both of us.'

'So you're saying you're not attracted to her, and there's no prospect of you waking up some morning and realising she's the love of your life?'

He giggled.

'God no! Jeez… To begin with, she's not even my type and between the two of us.' He lowered his voice. 'As a woman she scares the living days out of me,' he whispered and then they both laughed.

Mary Margaret had nothing to lose and if anything, she'd acquired a very zen attitude towards life.

'If you say there's nothing, then… I trust you.' She heard him exhale in relief. 'Making the other one chose between you and something or someone else is cruel and selfish, I'd never do it to you.'

Gently he massaged her hands and for a couple of seconds they did nothing but look at each other.

'That's me.'

'What?'

'My place – I live over there.'

'Ah…' He had to exhale again. 'OK, let me help you…' He gave her a hand to jump over a treacherous puddle, then saw her enter the building that had been her home for nearly a decade now.

'I'll see you tomorrow?'

'Most definitely!'

They smiled and another seconds-long pause Martin leaned slowly and kissed her, very gently, as if her lips were made of sugar.

She disappeared in her building but he waited faithfully until on of the third floor windows filled with with light and her silhouette waved him good night.

He felt light and happy as never before; he could scarcely believe his luck, actually. The moment he thought that, though, another thought crept it – a heartbreak. She's been a cop in the same precinct as his nephew, she without doubt knew him, and she's had a heartbreak, working side by side with a prolific heartbreaker.

Martin decided firmly his connection to former detective Caine would remain a secret, for now at least. It was also for security's sake after all…

He was about to call a taxi when his phone rang.

'There we go… Bradshaw listening. …Jeez… Yes… Yes…. I'm there, I'm there… Where?...No casualties, that's new… Yes, OK, OK, I'm coming, I'm coming.'

He shut the phone.

'Shit.'

XXXXX

END OF PART I