Characters: Henry Blake and Kwai Chang Caine (In Flashback: Paul Blaisdell Mary Blake Peter Caine, Epstein)

Violence: None

Story: Blake contemplates another lonely Christmas and he's carried back to the day his wife was killed. This story takes place during Shoalin Christmas during the day.

This story is written in memorial to Robert Nicholson who played Detective Henry Blake.

Author: Alisa Joaquin

Disclaimer: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues is a creation by Michael Sloan and distributed by Warner Brothers. This piece of fiction is based on KF:TLC. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

Detective Henry Blake looked around at the 101st gang and a pang of loneliness struck his heart. Everyone was cheerfully working or decorating the halls for the upcoming festivities. Suddenly, he felt stifled and he had to get some air. He grabbed his coat and left through the back door, doing his best to avoid anyone's gaze and hoping that no one had noticed the tears that rimmed his eyes behind his glasses.

He walked the streets in silence, trying not to pay attention to all the shoppers and people scurrying around, carrying gaily wrapped packages or struggling to carry home a newly bought Christmas tree. It was Christmas again. He could not face another year without her. It was too painful. It was her season. As he continued to walk toward nowhere in particular, his thoughts again drifted back to that fateful day. It, too, had been just a few days before Christmas.

***Flashback***

"Henry, don't forget to bring home the mistletoe," Mary called down to him. "You know the party will begin at seven. I should be back from the school before five so I can begin baking,"

"I won't forget, my love. Will you be making those cookies again this year?" Blake asked with anticipation.

"You know I make them every year. Henry Michael Blake, I swear, you're just like a little kid when it comes to my peppermint cookies. You better get going. That Captain is expecting you for that interview."

Blake left the house and headed down to the 101st Precinct located near Chinatown. He hadn't really expected to find himself back here, but after leaving the Company, he really did not want to be anywhere near the CIA or any other secret government organization. It was bad enough when he was still occassionaly call in by the Falcon's Wing to handle special jobs. That part of his past was over and he would prefer never to be reminded of it. If anything, he would prefer to use his special talents for good and helping others. It had been his wife's suggestion that he go to the police and see if they needed an ex-surveillance specialist, a job where he could still use his talents without fear of having to go into the field and use a gun. Despite his thorough training, he had seen too much killing. He would prefer now to stay out of the line of fire and simply end his days peacefully at a desk.

Blake entered the non-descript brick building and headed to the front desk, where he found a young sergeant was trying to juggle three requests at one time. He waited until each person had been handled before approaching the desk.

"Yeah, what is it that you want?"

"I came to see the Captain? I have an appointment."

"Back there." The desk sergeant didn't bother to show him the way but simply pointed over his shoulder.

"Thank you."

Blake walked through to the bullpen and was immediately assaulted by chaos. This certainly was not what he expected. He stood there for a few minutes in awe of what he was seeing, feeling like a stranger in a strange land.

"Can I help you?" A burly man with close cropped nearly shaven head walked up to Blake, nearly invading his personal space, only because the noise level in the room required it.

"I'm here to see the Captain," Blake shouted, before suddenly realizing the room had gone silent. He turned, embarrassed that his voice carried that much of a commanding tone as to gain notice from others. "I have an appointment." he said more quietly.

"Right this way."

Blake followed the man and waited as he knocked on the door, blocking Blake's view of whose name was written there.

"Captain, there's someone here to see you. Says he has an appointment."

"All right, send him in, I'll see him."

Blake entered the office and the burly man closed the door after him. He turned to face the man sitting at a desk with his head bowed over a stack of papers and he nearly fainted. He could not believe what he saw. It just couldn't be him. He had heard that he had been killed in the last mission. It was one of the reasons why he had left.

"I, uh . . ."

"Yes, speak up. I don't have all day."

My god it was him. The voice was the same. Blake cleared his throat and that got the man's attention.

"Yes?"

As the man lifted his head, Blake looked to see if there was any recognition there. Seeing none, he proceeded anyway. Maybe the memory would come back to him.

"I'm Henry Blake. I came here about a job?"

Suddenly, the man's eyes became wide. "Shakey? Is that really you?"

"You remembered. Hi Paul. It's been a long time."

"How could I forget. You were the best surveillance man on the team. Whenever everyone elses equipment went down, yours was the only equipment that kept running, no matter how small it was. Kept our butts out of the fire many times."

"Well, I can't complain. I was just doing my job. So, you're the captain here?"

"Yup. How's Mary?" Paul Blaisdell asked his old friend.

"Oh, she's doing fine. She's working as a school teacher at Lee High School in Chinatown."

"That's a rough neighborhood. There's been a lot of gang activity there lately. I hope she's being careful."

"Mary can take care of herself. You remember what we use to call her?"

"Oh boy do I. She'd kill me if I said it to her face." Paul smiled at the joint memory.

"Why don't you come over to the house tonight. Bring your wife. We're having a Christmas party at seven this evening. She'd be happy to see you."

"She still making those peppermint cookies?"

"Every year," Blake confirmed.

"We'll be there. Now, what's this I hear about you looking for work?"

Pleasantries aside, they got down to the business at hand. They must have talked for over two hours. When Blake finally left Paul Blaisdell's office, it was to begin one of the most interesting times of his life, and one of the saddest.

****Flashback Continues****

He was on cloud nine when he returned home. He had a job again, this time working for the 101st Precinct under an old friend. He really had not expected to find Paul Blaisdell sitting behind a captain's desk of a neighborhood police station. And he could not believe his luck. Because of his previous training, he would not be required to go through any of the police training necessary to get on the force. Paul Blaisdell said he could easily get him on board as a detective. He knew how he could swing it with someone where there wouldn't be to many questions. The department had been itching to get a new surveillance man ever since their last man had actually been arrested for using his skills to deal drugs.

Still, he should have expected that it might happen some day. He remembered Blaisdell had told him he wanted to be in police work after their time was over in the CIA, but the CIA always seemed to have other plans. They kept putting them on more and more dangerous covert missions, ones that required the instincts to survive, one that required a mercenary's heart. Blake could not understand why he had been chosen for such missions. He may have been trained as an agent, but in reality he did not feel like agent material.

"That's what makes you so perfect," his ex-boss had said. "No one would ever suspect a guy like you of ever being a mercenary type, Shakey"

Of course those words rattled him to no end. A lot of the other agents would laugh at him every time he would handle a gun. He'd shake all over, but even so, his marksmanship surprised everyone. The damage had been done, though, and the nickname stuck. Paul Blaisdell, however, had been different. He may have called him Shakey, but when he said it, it didn't didn't have the same meaning. Maybe because Paul Blaisdell always taken him seriously.

As Blake approached the house, he got an uneasy feeling. A young uniformed police officer was waiting at the top of the stairs.

"Can I help you?" Blake asked.

"Are you Henry Blake?" the young officer asked.

"Yes." Blake could not help noticing how young the officer was. He could see that the kid was nervous and there was also a deep sadness and pain in the young man's eyes. Something was terribly wrong.

"May we go inside?"

Blake opened the door and the young officer followed him in after being joined by another man.

"This is my partner, officer Epstein. I am officer Caine." The young officer turned toward the larger, older man and drew a deep sigh.

Blake could not help but notice that the young man seemed to be pleading with his partner. Without a word, Epstein urged the young officer forward. This must have been his first time at having to break bad news.

. . .

The moment the thought entered his head, Blake felt his knees grow weak. He barely heard the young officer's words as he was told that his wife, Mary, had been shot.

"She's been taken to County General. We'll be happy to drive you there."

Blake's emotions were in turmoil. All he could think about was the party and that there would be no peppermint cookies. 'She's going to be mad at me. I forgot the mistletoe.'

They arrived at the hospital only to receive more bad news.

"I'm sorry Mr. Blake. Your wife died just a few minutes ago. There was too much damage. There was nothing we could do."

"Mary, no. My heart."

***** End of Flashback*****

"My heart," the present echoes. That was what he called her. For the umpteenth time that day, grief overwhelmed the detective. "Detective, hah! Some detective I turned out to be. Paul was only doing me a favor. He never needed me there. Now he's gone, fighting his demons who knows where. I don't even know why I stayed," Blake said, arguing again to himself about where he belonged. "Yes, I do. It was all I had left. Paul was the only one who trusted me during that Cooper debacle. I was the only one who had been able to spot those bugs they planted. I couldn't have left even if I tried. Like it or not, I've become part of the 101st family, even if they don't fully understand and tease me at every turn. It's obvious they care more than I've ever realized."

Blake continued to walk until he found himself at a building that was familiar, yet alien, to him. He had never visited this place. Will he even make me feel welcome? He had never really talked with him before. What would he say? Blake was about to turn on his heels and leave, when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. He turned around to find himself fact-to-face with Kwai Chang Caine.

"Please, come inside. I shall make some tea. We can discuss our lost loved ones together."

Blake's heart suddenly felt lighter. Here was a man who just might understand. Hadn't he also lost a wife? Maybe if he did talk with someone about that loss things may not be so bad. Perhaps this holiday season would not be so pain-filled after all.

End