AUTHOR’S NOTE : This story takes place one year after the series finale “Requiem”, and is the prequel to my story “Secrets”. All things KF:TLC are the legal property of Warner Bros. Domestic Television and Michael Slone.

 “You come back and see us, Detective,” Simms requested softly.

 “I’m not a detective anymore,” Peter responded.

 “Oh, yes you are,” Simms countered, “and you always will be.”

 That fragment of conversation echoed inside Peter Caine’s head as he stood on the balcony of what had once been his father’s apartment.  A year ago to the day, Peter had resigned from the police force in order to pursue his new destiny as a Shaolin priest.  After the completion of his training and branding of his forearms, Peter had performed the necessary tasks to assume his father’s role as unofficial overseer of Chinatown.  The elder Caine had vanished from the city on that fateful day in search of his presumed dead wife, Laura, whom he had been led to believe was alive and well in Paris, France.  Leaving his old life in Peter’s capable hands, Caine had bid farewell to his beloved son to seek out his new life with Laura.

 At the time, Peter had been certain of his decision, confident he had at last discovered his true destiny as a Shaolin.  Over the past few weeks, however, the young priest had been plagued by doubts that the choice he had made twelve months ago had been the correct one.

 Was I too anxious to do what Pop and Lo Si expected of me? Peter wondered.  I gave up twelve years of my life and my closest friends without a second thought because I was so desperate to be what they wanted me to be, but it never occurred to me that in my heart it wasn’t what I wanted to be.

 Peter knew the questions in his heart could not be answered solely by him, and with Caine still in France and the Ancient out of town, there was only one other person he knew who could give him the guidance he needed.

 How can I truly be Shaolin if I have so many doubts about it?

 Peter’s musings were interrupted by the creak of the opening door, and the priest who stood on the doorway flashed Peter a welcoming smile.

 “Welcome back, young Caine.”

 “Thank you, Master Kwan.  It is good to see you again.”

 “And you as well,” Kwan returned.  “You father passed this way many months ago and told me of your decision to become Shaolin.  I am pleased you have chosen to share his destiny.”

 “Actually, Master Kwan, that’s why I’m here,” Peter confessed.  “I am beginning to have doubts about my decision, and I need the counsel only another Shaolin can provide.”

 “Our doors are always open to those in need,” Kwan replied, and gestured for Peter to enter the temple.  Peter stepped inside as Kwan closed the door behind him, then the two began to stroll through the temple.

 “I am curious as to why you have journeyed so far for the answers you seek,” Kwan remarked.  “Surely your father or the Ancient can assist you as readily as I can.”

 “My father is in France,” Peter explained, “and Lo Si is out of town visiting his family.  Besides, they care too much for me to counsel me as objectively as you can.”

 “An accurate assessment,” Kwan conceded.  “So, tell me of your doubts, my friend, and ask me your questions.  Perhaps together we can discover what is to be your path.”

 The  elder priest’s encouragement was like a salve on Peter’s wounded soul, and he carefully told Kwan of the events which had led to his decision of a year ago, along with the indecision he was currently experiencing about the choice he had made.

 “There are certain moments in life when you stand at a crossroads and choose a path for yourself,” Peter said.  “And in the other direction lies....”

 “The road not taken,” Kwan finished.

 “Yes,” Peter confirmed, “and normally that road is left behind you.”

 “Yet, now you wonder if perhaps your decision to become a priest was not a path you chose for yourself, but merely a chance to travel that road not taken in an attempt to earn the acceptance from your father he could not give you as a police officer.”

 “I have no doubt that my father loves me, Master Kwan, as I have no doubt he knows I love him, and I have no regrets about helping him.  But he’s a Shaolin priest, a Shambala Master-deep in his heart there is a part of him that could not accept me as a cop.”

 “Is that something he told you, or an assumption you made on your own?” Kwan asked gently.

 “Does it make a difference?” Peter returned.

 Kwan gave Peter a patient smile.  “Yes, it does.  Whatever else Caine is, Peter, he is first and foremost your father.  Whether you are a policeman or a Shaolin priest, you are first and foremost his son.  The strength of that bond and the love you share as a result of it surpasses anything else he may feel because of the path you choose to walk.”

 “Even if my path sometimes leads me away from him?” Peter prompted.

 “Even if,” Kwan echoed.  “Ask yourself these questions, Peter: during your years as a police officer, were you happy?  Do you feel that the actions you took helped those around you and made a beneficial difference in their lives?  And most importantly, has anything you have done as a priest matched your accomplishments as a policeman?”

 Kwan fell silent for a moment to allow Peter a chance to absorb what he had said, then presented the young priest with one final instruction.  “Look inside your heart, young Caine, for it is there you will find the answers to those questions.  It is time for you to once and for all search within your soul to discover which destiny is right for you.”
 
 Giving Peter a comforting smile, Kwan turned and faded into the temple, leaving Peter alone with his thoughts.

 At Kwan’s invitation, Peter remained at the temple, keeping mostly to himself as he attempted to discern what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.  His conversation with Kwan had helped him to focus, and he had spent several hours in daily meditation asking and re-asking himself the questions the elder priest had posed to him.  The answers did not come easily, and at times only added to his inner turmoil.  Yet ten days after his arrival at the temple, Peter knew at last where his heart belonged, and sought out Kwan to inform him of his decision.

 The elder priest was in the main room of the temple when Peter found him, finishing a Kung Fu lesson with the newest group of disciples.  Spotting his former student out of the corner of his eye, Kwan excused himself, then crossed over to stand in front of Peter.

 “Good morning, Peter.  I trust your emergence from seclusion means that you have reached a decision.”

 “Yes.” Peter confirmed.  “I’ve decided to return to the police force.”

 “I thought you would,” Kwan said.  “If your destiny had truly been to become a priest, you would have done so when you initially completed your training.  Your choice to remain a police officer made it clear that in your heart there could be no other life for you.”

 “I have no regrets, Master Kwan, and I will wear my Shaolin brands with honor,” Peter declared.  “It is a heritage I carry with pride, and I promise that my children will know the importance of the Shaolin as I do.”

 Kwan smiled.  “Then perhaps one day another son of Caine will appear on my doorstep seeking his destiny.  I look forward to instructing him with the same pleasure I derived from teaching his father.”

 Peter returned Kwan’s smile.  “Thank you, Master Kwan, for everything.  I owe you more than I can possibly repay.”

 “Good luck, Peter.”

 The two men exchanged farewells, then Kwan returned to his class as Peter exited the temple.

PARIS, FRANCE

 Inside the sparsely furnished apartment he shared with his father, Kwai Chang Caine stood at the window, watching in interested silence as the people scurried to and fro on the street below.  His arrival in France a year ago had been prompted by the belief that his wife, Laura, was still alive, but he had soon discovered she was not.  After allowing himself a brief period to mourn her a second time, Caine had decided to pay a visit to his father, and Matthew had convinced his son to stay on indefinitely.  A knock at the door interrupted his vigil, and the priest crossed the room to receive his unexpected visitor.  Opening the door, his initial surprise was replaced by joy as he greeted his son.

 “Peter!”

 “Hi, Pop,” the younger man returned, and the two exchanged an exuberant hug before the Peter asked, “May I come in?”

 “Of course.”

 Caine stepped aside to allow his son entry, and Peter walked passed him into the living room.  Taking a brief survey of his surroundings, he glanced out the window to check out the view before at last facing his father.

 “Where’s Grandfather?”

 “He has gone to get our dinner,” Caine answered.  “What are you doing to here?  Has something happened to Annie or your sisters?”

 “No, they’re all fine,” Peter assured him.  “Carolyn and Todd are expecting another baby, Kelly’s engaged, and Mom is great.”

 “And your friends at the precinct are well?” Caine pressed.

 “As far as I know,” was Peter’s reply.

 Stifling an impatient sigh at his son’s evasiveness, the priest repeated his earlier question.  “Why are you here, Peter?”

 “Something happened last week you should know about, and I wanted to make sure you heard it from me, in person.”

 Sensing what was coming, Caine nonetheless allowed Peter to continue.  “I am listening.”

 Peter let out a sigh, trying to ignore the lingering guilt floating around in his conscience.  “Pop, when you left a year ago, I was confident I could assume your place in Chinatown.  I even looked forward to the challenges that filling your shoes would bring.  But as hard as I’ve tried to be to the people what you were, I can’t.  I have your brands, and your name, but I don’t have your heart, and I don’t have your knowledge.”

 “No one expects you to be anything other than what you are, Peter,” Caine said reassuringly.

 “You do,” Peter countered.

 “I do not understand.”

 “Pop, all my life, I’ve done everything I can to be the man you want me to be, and eventually became a Shaolin priest because I felt it was the only way you could truly be proud of me.  It is not acceptable for the son of a Shambala master to be a cop.”

 “Those are your words, Peter, not mine,” Caine stated sternly.  “What you do is not important to me as long as it makes you happy.”

 “Maybe, but can you look me in the eye and honestly tell me that you weren’t pleased when I quit the force?” Peter challenged.

 “No, I cannot,” Caine admitted.  “But it was your decision.  I never asked nor expected you to give up your life to live mine.”

 “What was I supposed to do, stay a Shaolin cop?”

 “If that was what you truly wanted, yes.”

 Peter stared at his father in disbelief.  “Are you telling me if I had remained a cop a year ago despite having accepted the brands of a Shaolin, it wouldn’t have bothered you?”

 “Peter, you are my son, and I love you.  I will admit that I was glad when you chose to pursue a destiny as a Shaolin priest, but I never wanted you to walk any path other than the one which was the most fulfilling for you.  Whatever road you walk, I will carry you in my heart, and be proud of you.”

 Peter held Caine’s gaze in silence for several minutes as he considered what his father had said, and at last managed to give him a faint smile.  “You knew all along that I would go back to being a cop, didn’t you?”

 Caine’s answer was simple.  “Yes.”

 “If you knew from the beginning I was meant to remain a cop, why didn’t you just say so?”

 “It was a realization you had to come to on your own.  The choice to journey down a road not taken and to return was yours to make, not mine.  I merely supported your choices, as I will always do.”

 “So you’re not disappointed that I’m rejoining the force?”

 “It is the right decision for you,” Caine evaded.

 “That’s not an answer, Pop.”

 “It is the only one I can give you, my son.”

 Peter wisely decided not to press the issue, and instead walked over to embrace his father.  “Thank you for understanding, Pop.  I love you.”

 “As I love you.”

CHINATOWN -- TWO WEEKS LATER

 Inside the 101st precinct, Simms was seated at her desk reviewing an arrest report when her private line rang.  Setting down the file, she reached over to pick up the phone.  “Karen Simms.”

 “Good morning, Captain,” Commissioner Kincaid’s voice greeted.  “I’m glad I caught you.  I had a visitor a short while ago that I thought you might be interested in.”

 “And who was that?” Simms prompted.

 Kincaid told her, and the captain’s eyes widened in surprise.  “Really…did he say what he wanted?”

 “His old job back.”

 “You’re kidding.”

 “Not at all.  As a matter of fact, he should be showing up at the precinct any minute now.”

 “Wonders never cease,” Simms muttered under her breath, then addressed Kincaid.  “Thank you for calling, Commissioner.  I’ll tell my people the news immediately.”

 Replacing the receiver in its cradle, Simms walked around her desk and out into the squad room.

 “Ladies and gentlemen, I need your attention for a moment please.”

 Activity in the squad room immediately came to a halt as the officers stopped what they were doing to focus on Simms.

 “I just received a phone call from Commissioner Kincaid, who told me that we’re going to have a new addition to our precinct, starting this morning.”

 “Don’t tell me he’s sending us another bright-eyed, bushy-tailed rookie to break in?” Skalany asked ruefully.

 Simms permitted herself a faint smile.  “No, this person is actually a veteran homicide detective, who took a leave of absence several months ago to work through some personal issues.”

 “Great, someone who needs a psychiatrist, not another day job,” Kermit replied dryly.

 “I see your manners haven’t improved since I’ve been gone,” a familiar voice remarked from behind him.

 The entire squad room turned as one to see Peter standing in the entryway, and fell into shocked silence.  The captain’s smile widened at their reactions, and she crossed the room to stand in front of Peter.  “Long time no see, Detective,” she greeted softly.  “Welcome back.”

 “Thank you, Captain.  It’s good to be back.”

 Kelly was the first to find her voice, and gave him a small smile.  “If I had known you were coming, I would have baked a cake,” she quipped.

 “You can’t cook,” Peter reminded her.

 “I know, but it’s the thought that counts,” she responded, then walked over to give him a brief hug.  “Welcome back, Peter.”

 “Thanks, Kel.”

 “Are you here to stay?” Skalany asked.

 “Oh, yeah.”

 “Good.”

 The two exchanged a hug, then each of the officers took a turn to personally welcome Peter back.  The last two to do so were Jody and Kermit, and the former approached him with a shaky smile.

 “I can’t believe you’re really here,” she replied.  “What made you come back?”
 
 “A short-lived journey down the road not taken,” Peter answered.

 “That sounds like something a Shaolin cop would say,” Jody replied lightly.  “I don’t care why you’re here, I’m just glad you are.”

 Jody embraced Peter in a lengthy hug, then reluctantly released him as Kermit came over to stand beside them.

 “I hate to touch on a possibly sore subject, but have you told your father about this?” Kermit asked.

 “He knows.” Peter assured him.

 Kermit nodded, then gave his friend a warm smile.  “You’ve been missed, Detective.  Welcome home.”

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END