Characters: Peter Caine, Kwai Chang Caine, Paul, Annie, Kelly, and Caryline Blaisedell.

Violence: None

About the Story: (You may look at the title and see what may appear to be a typographical error. I assure you, it is not.) This story takes place one year later after the poems/vinettes "Can you Hear . . . " have taken place.

In the storyline itself, it was two weeks since Peter and Caine fought Tan. Peter had not broken the news to his foster father that his real father has come back into his life. When Paul questioned him on how he received the gunshot wound to his right shoulder, Peter was somewhat evasive. Before Peter could even think of a way to break the news, two weeks had gone by and the next day was Father's Day. How does a son break the news to both "fathers" about the other? The answer, you surprise them both by having them meet.

Author: Alisa Joaquin

Disclaimer: All characters are borrowed except those created by me. All other characters (from KF:TLC and we know who they are) are property of Warner Brothers. I promise to give them back when I am done with them (of course I do not know how long that will be.) I give permission to archive.

"Pop? You here?"

Silence filled the space of the burned-out brownstone.

"Pop? Where are you?" Peter called out, slight panic registering in his voice. He could not be gone. He just had to be here. We just found each other. He couldn't have just left.

Suddenly, he heard sounds of demolition work coming from another part of the building. He traced the noise to it's source, and found his father, covered in soot and ashes, demolishing the charred remains of a wall.

"Oh man, don't scare me like that."

Kwai Chang Caine turned slowly to stare blankly at his son.

"Didn't you hear me call you?" Peter asked.

"I did," Caine said as he turned back to his work. "I do not wish to answer to 'Pop'. You know my feelings on that matter. Your mother would not like you calling me that."

Ignoring hs father's reprimand, Peter's voice dropped to a whisper as he fought back the wave of fear and loss that threatened to overshadow his reason. "I couldn't find you. I thought maybe you had left." Peter turned away to hide his embarrassment and kicked at some charred remains of what once was a wooden box.

Kwai Chang Caine's eyes softened as he sensed his son's distress. "It is I who should apologize to you, my son. I did not realize my silence would cause you distress." Caine reached for his son and carressed his cheek, feeling that his touch had instantly calmed his son's restless spirit. "What is it that you wish of me?"

"I . . ." Peter cleared his throat and began again. "I came to ask you if you would like to spend the day with me tomorrow. It's kind of special and there's also someone I'd like you to meet."

"And what is so special about tomorrow?" Caine asked, again turning back to focus on the wall.

"Well, it's Father's Day and well, you and I haven't been together in . . ."

"I would be honored my son."

"Great! Could you come by my place in the morning? Here's the address. I'll see you later. I've got to go to work."

Caine watched his son leave in a whirlwind of energy. Moments ago, he had sensed Peter's panic that quickly and seamlessly morphed into deep joy and excitement. He had not felt such energy in a long time. It was almost overwhelming. Caine drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out, feeling himself relax. Joy filled him as he again realized that the young man he had held in his arms two weeks ago was truly his son. When he had first opened his eyes in that hospital room to find the young man standing there, asking about his father, he had not knowm what might be expected of him. But something in the young man's face had told him to look close. What he found filled him with astonishment and joy. His son was alive. For an instant, he had thought it might have been a dream, but as the young man reached down to encircled him in an embrace so tight that he could barely breath, he'd known it to be the truth. Caine had touched the head of his son after 15 years of believing that he was dead and joy filled him beyond description.. Not since Peter had been a baby had he seen that his son's head so covered with a thick dark curly mass of hair. It was soft to the touch and he dare not let go for fear that Peter would disappear. Even now, every time he touched his child, all the memories, both joyous and pain-filled returned. Peter had also shed tears of overwhelming joy and astonishment, but had also expressed anger, believing that he had been deceived. There was deep bitterness and pain in his child's eyes. It would take time for both of them to learn to reach out and understand each other. This would be the first of many steps they would take on that long road to healing.

*****

Peter arrived home after a long day at the Precinct to the sound of his phone ringing.

"Hello? Oh, hi Mom."

[Peter, don't forget, you're supposed to bring the cake for Father's Day.]

"Yeah I won't forget, don't worry. There is one thing. Can I bring someone with me?"

[Is it a date?]

Peter could almost hear the smile radiating down the phone line. "No, but I really would like to you meet this person. I . . . uh . . . should have said something earlier but I've been rather busy and, well, I didn't know how to . . ."

[Peter, it's all right. You know you can bring anyone over to the house so long as you ask.]

"Thanks Mom. I know you're just gonna love to meet him. I'd better go pick up the cake. I didn't realize how late it was getting and I still have to pick up Paul's present. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you Mom."

[I love you too, Peter]

Peter hung up the phone and suddenly realized he had not purchased a present for his father. It had been so many years since he had given his father a gift, most of which had been handmade. He found himself faced with a bit of a challenge: what might a Shaolin priest need.

*****

Caine knocked on his son's door and was quickly ushered, and immediately back out again. He observed that Peter was carrying one very large item and a shopping bag.

"May I help you my son?"

"No, I've got it. Come on. We don't have much time. We're running late."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see. It's a surprise."

Caine's eyebrows raised in surprise. He had not heard those words in 15 years. What could his son be up to?

Paul Blaisdell came down to breakfast later than usual. Annie had let him sleep in instead of rousing him early for the usual Sunday service at the Riverview Unitarian Church. Though they had not attended services for many weeks, certain services were always attended as a tradition. Paul and Annie had discovered the church after long debate when Peter had come into their home. They had been attending the Unity Church down the street, but when they learned of Peter's Buddhist and Taoist beliefs, they had decided that they needed to find a place where he would feel welcome and accepted. It turned out that the Riverview Church had a small meditation group that met once a week. At first, Peter had been grateful, but then something had happened which caused Peter to refuse to attend. Paul eventually learned that it had been a painful reminder of what Peter had lost, so he never pushed his foster son into attending again.

"Where are the girls this morning?"

"They decided to go to the church service," Annie answered. "Oh, drat. Paul could you run to the market. I forgot the most important ingredient for my special sauce."

"Well, we can't be missing that. Peter would go out on strike if he knew you forgot the shitaki mushrooms. Don't worry, I'll get them."

"Thanks sweetie."

"You can thank me later when we're alone."

Paul left the kitchen and went upstairs to change. Annie was about to clear the dishes when she heard the distinctive sound fo a well known engine pulling into the driveway. It wasn't long before she heard two very feminine voices chattering away.

"Hi Mom, we're back. We got the shitaki mushrooms, but the only ice cream we could find was Heavely Hash. They didn't have any Rocky Road."

"Shhh, girls, in here. Your father is upstairs. I don't want him to know where you've been. Give me the mushrooms and the ice cream and if your father asks you, you both went to church. And this time, try get your stories straight. Peter will be here soon with the cake. Oh, and he's bringing a friend."

"Male or female?" Kelly asked.

"I believe male."

"I hope he's cute, not like that last guy."

"Oh, Kell, get a grip<" Carilyn chimed in. "I swear all you think about lately is boys."

"Look whose talking."

"Girls, that's enough," Annie said sternly. "Today is your father's day, I will not have you spoil it for him by getting into an argument."

"Okay, Mom." Caryline said.

"Anything you say Mom."

"Annie?" Paul called out from the living room. "I'm on my way to the store. Is there anything else you want me to get?"

"No, that's all."

"I see Carilyn's car is in the driveway"

"Yes, sweetie. They just got back from church and they're helping me in the kitchen."

"Okay. I should be back in half an hour."

Annie waited until she heard the front door shut.

"Finally. Kelly, you go set the table and Carilyn, you go get your father's gifts. You know where they go. As soon as Peter gets here with the cake, and your father gets back, we can begin. Dinner won't be ready until later but at least this time we'll be prepared."

At that moment, there came a knock on the side door leading to the garage.

"That's got to be Peter. I didn't even hear him drive up."

"Maybe he parked out in the street. The driveway was a little crowded with my car and dad's."

Kelly went to the door and was surprised to see an older man with long thin grey hair, wearing a worn brown leather jacket and sandals. A brown leather tube and pouch were slung across his shoulders and he was carrying a large box.

"May I help you?"

Just then, Peter came up behind.

"Go on in Pop. Just set the box on the table."

At the sound of Peter's voice, everyone in the room turned toward the door and all were thinking the same thing. Pop?

"Peter?" Annie started to question when Peter came up to her and gave her a hug.

Kelly's face showed a mixture of astonishment and disappointment. She had been expecting Peter to bring home one of his buddies from the 101st, not some old guy he called Pop. Who was he anyway?

Caryline looked at the older man intently, eyes wide with curiosity. She had only heard Peter mention his father in the formal and in the past tense. He was dead, wasn't he?

"Mom, Kelly, Caryline, I'd like you to meet someone that I never expected to see ever again." Peter swallowed the lump in his throat as pride swelled and ther surge of emotion again threatened to erupt. "This is my father, Kwai Chang Caine. Pop, this is Annie Blaisdell, and this is Kelly and Caryline."

Silence filled the room as Peter's words sunk in.

"Mom?" Caine turned toward his son, a look of surprise clearly playing on his features.

"Uh yeah, I hope you don't mind. Annie's really the only mother I've ever known so . . ."

"Do not be concerned, my son. Your mother would understand." Kwai Chang Caine gently caressed his son's cheek and wiped the single tear away that had escaped his son's eyes. He then turned, his hands grasped together, and bowed toward the three women who had played a major part in his son's life over the past 15 years. "It is an honor to meet you."

Annie was stunned into silence. Under normal circumstances, she was the one who would greet anyone new who had come into their home, making them feel welcome and appreciated. But this was someone she had never expected. Thankfully, Caryline spoke up to fill the awkward silence.

"Well, I for one, am happy to meet you. After Peter became more comfortable with us, and opened up, he told us stories of his life at the temple. and about you. You always seemed larger than life. Could you really put out flaming torches with your . . . what did you call it Peter . . . your chi?"

Caine shrugged his shoulders at the question, as if to say that it was nothing.

"Can you do that Peter?" Kelly asked, her disappointment forgotten for the moment.

"Nope, only my Pop." Peter said proudly, his hands resting on his father's shoulders. "Mom, are you okay? Yyou seem so quiet." Peter went over to Annie, concern coloring the tone of his question.

"Yeah, sure. Girls, why don't you show Mr. Caine around. I'd like to talk to Peter alone."

The girls led a puzzled Kwai Chang Caine through the kitchen, through the dining room, and out onto the back deck. He could sense that something was not quiet right, but focused on the two leading him on a tour.

Annie turned to her son with an expression of concern. "Peter, I thought you said your father was dead."

"I did, but two weeks ago, I discovered he was alive. I was undercover and I couldn't say anything to you or Paul. I didn't even know for sure until I saw him in the hospital."

"How did you find out about it?"

"Can it wait? I really would like to tell Paul, too?"

"Peter, do you know what this news is going to do to him?" Annie questioned.

At that moment, Paul walked into the door carrying a small bag containing the mushrooms that Annie had requested.

"What news will do to me?"

Annie gave her son the look that said, 'You better tell your father the truth or else.'

"I saw Kelly and Caryline talking with someone in the backyard. Is that your friend that Annie said you would be bringing today?"

Peter hesitated, suddenly unsure of the wisdom of his plans, "Well, not exactly."

"What do you mean, not exactly?" Paul's cop and ex-mercenary instincts rose to the surface.

"Well, remember when I went undercover to get into Tan's organization and someone planted a bomb at the meat market in Chinatown?"

"Yeah, go one. I remember seeing you there."

"Well, I stayed a little while longer and I saw someone come out carrying the old apothecary . . ."

"Wait a minute. I thought I recognized him, who is he?" Paul asked.

Caine and the girls chose that moment to return from their small tour. Peter waved his father over to his side.

"Paul," Peter began haltingly. "I like you to meet . . . my father, Kwai Chang Caine. And Dad, this is Paul Blaisdell, my . . . foster father."

Again, silence descended.

"Excuse me, did you say . . . father?" Paul almost choked on the word.

"Yeah," Peter said sheepishly.

"I thought you said your father was dead? Don't get me wrong sir but . . ."

"Paul, I should have told you . . ."

"You damn well should have . . ."

"May I be of assistance?" Caine interjected. "Please, do not be angry with my son. We both believed that the other was dead. He only learned that I was not two weeks ago. Peter why did you not tell them this?"

Peter felt nervous. For some reason, he was feeling like a 12 year old boy getting his hand caught in the cookie jar. "I didn't know how to say it." His voice going down to a whisper.

"So you just decided to surprise me," Paul said a little too forcefully.

"He also surprised me." Caine said.

"Hey, I didn't know what else to do. I wanted to spend the day with both of you and . . . " Peter stopped speaking, fighting back unbidden tears. He had thought, in his excitement over the discovery, that Paul would be thrilled for him. He had not, in retrospect, considered the emotional repercussions of the annoucement. And now his father seemed shocked as well.

"Excuse me." Hurting, Peter rushed from the room wanting more than ever just to be alone.

"Peter," Paul tried to call his son back . . . his son . . . no not his son, his foster son. 'Peter was this man's son,' he thought. 'That's going to take some time getting use to.'

"He is hurting. He believes he has hurt both of us by not telling us sooner."

"No, I'm the one that should be sorry. Some Father's Day huh?"

"I believe we should both talk to Peter."

Paul followed Caine out the door, but paused at the railing of the deck, feeling uncertain whether or not he should intrude. There were many instances in the past when Peter would sit by the pond, brooding. When Paul had tried to talk to him, Peter had often just ignored him, as if he was an intrusion in his space. Paul had quickly learned that, during those times, Peter needed to be alone, so he would let him sit there until Peter was ready to talk.

Paul watched as Caine, the man introduced as Peter's father, continued down the path to the pond. When Peter had let loose that little bombshell, he had not been sure how to react. Skepticism about the man's identity and where he had been all those years flashed through Paul's mind. At first he did not want to believe that the man now approaching his son was really Peter's father. Except for around the eyes, Peter didn't look anything like the man. Paul continued to watch, concerned for the safety of his son and what the man named Caine would do. Maybe, whoever this man was, he just might be able to reach Peter. Maybe he might even learn something about how to approach his son whenever he was like this.

Paul observed how Caine approached Peter and just simply stood next to him. Then he saw the man kneel down beside Peter and place his hand on his back and began to rub it gently. Though he could not hear a word they said, he could see that Caine obviously had an affect on Peter, giving him comfort that Paul had not always been able to do. Perhaps this man was Peter's real father after all.

Peter sat cross-legged by the small pond, tears falling silently. 'Why do I feel like I've totally messed up?' he thought. 'Paul's right. I should have said something sooner, to both of them, but how do I break the news to a family I've had for 15 years that the father I thought was dead was alive? And how do I tell my father about . . .' Sighing heavily, Peter picked up a nearby stone and tossed it into the water, watching the ripples expanding outward from where the pebble had entered.

Caine approached his son on silent footsteps. He could see, from the way Peter's shoulder's sagged, just how much he was hurting. Perhaps this was not a good time, but he felt he had to take the risk.

"Am I invited?"

"You remembered," Peter said wiping away the tears.

"Yes. Your secret place. It would seem you have found another." Caine kneeled down beside his son and stared out across the pond. It was a very peaceful place. He could see why his son liked it so much and how it would remind him of the lake near the temple.

"You don't know how many times I've longed to hear those words. Paul never comes down here when I've needed time by myself."

"He respects your wish to be alone."

"Actually, he doesn't know about this. He tried, but . . ."

"He was not invited," Caine finished.

"I guess I was hoping that you would come, but you never did. I never thought to invite Paul. That was always our way of . . ."

"I understand, my son. If you wish to be alone, I will go."

"No. Please stay." Peter grew silent for a moment then hung his head. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce you to Paul sooner. I wanted to surprise you both, since it is Father's Day and well . . . I just didn't want to . . ."

"Hurt either of us? You have not my son. You have given me a wonderful gift. I am honored to meet the family that took my son in and protected him from harm." Caine placed a comforting hand on his son's back and began to stroke it as he would when Peter was very small.

"But I can tell I've hurt Paul. He's been like a father to me. I know he was hoping that some day that I would call him . . . . but I never could. It just didn't seem right. I guess I was still hoping you were alive some where."

"In the time that we were apart, he became your father when you needed one the most. He still is. I would be honored to share you with him. He helped to raise you during the most difficult part of your life. I was not there to see you grow into a man. But I am here now."

"You won't be hurt if I called him Dad once in a while?" Peter asked.

"No. I am grateful that he was here to protect and nurture you, my son. But, I believe you should also talk to him. He is hurting because he feels that he disappointed you with his reaction. It was rather sudden."

"I'll go talk to him. Just let me sit here for a moment."

"I shall return and let him know." Caine then rose and walked back to where Paul Blaisdell waited.

"Is he going to be all right?"

"He will be fine. He believed he hurt us both by not breaking the news sooner."

"The news that you were alive."

"Yes"

"No, I should have realized something was up. Peter would come into the Precinct these past two weeks with so much energy, but when he'd come and see me, I knew he was hiding something. He seemed distant, even distracted. I should have asked him about it. I thought maybe he was seeing someone special, but I didn't expect this. I am really honored to meet you. Your son has been a joy to have around, among other things."

"He is your son as well."

Paul looked at Caine in surprise and searched his face for any trace of sarcasm, but found only sincerity. "You really believe that?"

"It is true."

At that moment, Annie came to the door.

"Dinner is ready everyone."

Within moments, Peter came bounding up to the deck, stopping hesitantly before both men. He glanced over at his father then over to Paul. Paul reached out and laid a hand on his son's shoulder and let his eyes and touch sooth the rift.

"It's okay, son. We'll talk later."

He and Kwai Chang Caine exhanged a smile as Peter nodded and, at Annie's second call, raced into the dining room.

"Did he always rush into meals like that at the temple?" Paul asked.

"Always." Caine's smile widened.

This Father's Day was turning into something special after all.

End