Thanks to my beta-reader Margie. All remaining mistakes are mine. May be archived. Also, I may be taking some liberties with the Kung Fu time line with this story.
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are the property of Warner Brothers. No money is being made on this story.
Grave Thoughts
by Ninjababe
He stared down at the grave. Every year he said he wouldn't come again, yet here he was.
"So, another year's passed, and I'm still alive. And you're still dead. Sometimes I wish we could change places. You're the one who should be alive. You had so much more to offer the world than me."
He crouched down in the snow and pulled off his sunglasses. "Listen to me. Wallowing in self-pity. If you were standing here, you'd probably whap me upside the head."
He paused, grinning at that thought.
"Anyway. My life is getting stranger every year. Kwai Chang Caine and his son Peter seem to have a habit of dragging me along for the ride when they go off chasing mystic assassins, demons, and god knows what. That, or they're poking their noses in my business. Granted, I'm glad they were there when I needed help, but I'm not used to having people to fall back on. It feels good to have people I can count on. People who don't judge me for the way I live my life. People who don't try to change me, 'reform' me. People like you."
"Blaisdell had to disappear into the shadows again. Had to leave his family, his home, his whole life behind. It makes me wonder if that'll happen to me one day. Am I going to wake up to machine gun fire tearing my life apart? Am I going to have to disappear to protect those I love? It's a scary thought. And probably why I keep everyone at arm's length. If they don't know I care, then neither will anyone who comes after me."
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "There I go with the self pity again. You'd think that after all these years of talking to you I'd be over it by now. Maybe it's just that every year, something happens that breaks another piece off my armor, and I can't figure out how to put it back."
Still crouched, he looked up and stared at the sky. "Looks like more snow is on the way. I remember how you used to hate the cold. You'd gripe about how snow would be much more fun if it happened when it was warm. Never knew anyone who hated the cold so much, but loved snow."
"Back to what's been going on since my last visit... After Blaisdell left, we got a new Captain at the precinct, Karen Simms. Tough as nails, but she has a heart of gold. Tried to find out about my past. But, same as everyone else, she didn't find anything. Only two people know much about my past , the rest just guess. You were one of those two people, Blaisdell the other. I sometimes think Caine knows something, though. Just the way he looks at me. Yet, he doesn't judge or try to change me."
"Then, there's Peter. In the last year, he's gone from a 'hotshot' cop to a 'Shaolin' cop, whatever the hell that means. He's got a lot of his father in him. I wouldn't be surprised if he showed up at work one day, rolled his sleeves up, and we'd find a months-old tiger brand on one arm and a dragon brand on the other. Just the type he is. Although, I do wonder if he *could* stay a cop and be a Shaolin priest. Be interesting to find out."
"If anyone could do it, Peter could. He's really something special." He shook his head, a wistful look on his face. "I really wish I could tell him how I feel. I fell in love with him. And, if I tell him, it'll probably be the day I disappear from his life. Because, the way things look now, he doesn't want anything *but* a friend."
He sighed again before putting his sunglasses back on. "Sometimes I wonder why I do this. Why do I come to talk to you every year? Do you really hear what I'm saying? Or is this some sort of therapy for me that I subconsciously make myself do?"
"Hell, it doesn't matter why I do it. I just know it helps me get through the year, knowing I can come here to talk anytime."
Standing up, he patted the top of the gravestone. "See you next year."
He walked away, a shadow in the sunshine.
The End