Quiet Musings
By Linda Schwartz

Disclaimer: This is a short piece, no angst, no one gets hurt. I don't know if anyone will need a tissue or not. This is one of my warm fuzzy moments. Thought we could all use one about now.

This is, as we all know, characters from KFTLC. Michael Sloan's baby, I'm just borrowing them for a while and I'm putting them back on the shelf for others to borrow. Enjoy :-D

I remember waking up not knowing where I am. I feel so tired, what has happened? My vision clears and I am aware I am in a hospital. It is not the first time; my fifteen years of wandering have not always been quiet, peaceful ones.

This time something is different, I wasn't alone; a young man stood at the foot of my bed, watching me with his eyes that held unshed tears.

I felt I should know him. I felt him studying my face, but at first, recognition did not come. Then the young man spoke of seeing me at the burned out building and could tell by the brands that I was a shaolin priest. He spoke of his father and then my heart leapt. A light I'd thought long extinguished was shining again. This young man was my long lost son.

"Peter?" I couldn't believe it, I hadn't uttered that name aloud in so long. I hear my son's voice again then felt him collapse against my chest. I ran my hands over my son's hair. I still couldn't believe it.

Now I'm standing on the edge of the lake, this is usually where Peter comes to think, his 'secret place'. I have found it to be an excellent place to come for quiet meditation and to practice Tai Chi. When Peter is here, I can only come when I am invited.

It was the second anniversary of our happy reunion, and still I can not believe how fortune shined on us. How often did a person have a second chance? Our time together has been a series of misunderstandings and confusion. That is part of the lessons still left to learn.

"Pop?"

I turn at the sound of that name, one I have tried to get my son to stop using, but somehow he still can not resist using it. I must admit that I have grown accustomed to hearing it. It is the sweetest sound to my ears.

"Yes, my son?" I turned to look into the hazel eyes that mirrored mine.

"What are you thinking about? Our reunion?" Peter places his hand on my shoulder.

"It is never far from my mind, especially on this day." I can't stop myself from reaching out and running my hand against Peter's cheek. I feel my son push his cheek deeper into the caress.

"I know, Pop, after all this time I still have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming."

We embraced, renewing our bond through this simple touch.

"Let's go get dinner, Pop, my treat. What do you feel like having?"

"Anything but scorpion pizza, my son." We both laugh at our private joke as we walk into town, our arms around each other's shoulders.

End