Note: This is story #3 in The Mean Series. Although this story does stand on it's own, the series is more meaningful if read in order.

The Mean: Waiting

By WriterJC

The apartment was dark and still, lit only by the shaft of light that beamed forth from the hallway and cast a distorted shadow across the room. Jordan McGuire hesitated between the light of the hallway and the darkness of the apartment before stepping fully inside and pushing the door shut behind herself. The darkness closed in, but she didn't reach for the switch that was within easy reach. She remained standing in the entryway, absorbing the feel of the empty apartment.

It was as if something lingered despite its owner's absence. Something besides the gentle undertone of incense and candle wax, or the sweet smell of the wilting roses that Peter had given her several days earlier. It was the man himself. The very room was indelibly marked as the domain of Peter Caine.

One of the many things that had attracted her to the infamous detective was his strong presence. He had a way of energizing the very atoms in the air. But recently there was more; something different, deeper, almost larger-than-life. Sometimes she felt pale in comparison.

Jordan shook herself and moved on into the livingroom. She wasn't normally the contemplative sort. She took things as they came. And if there was a challenge involved, all the better. Another reason that Peter had so attracted her. But the attraction had led to something more, something infinitely more important than she thought it would ever be. Peter Caine had gotten under her skin and into her heart. The challenge was no longer important. Only the future was, hers and Peter's.

The night she had entered his apartment and found him asleep on the sofa with both his forearms wrapped in white gauze, she'd known something major was coming. It was there in his eyes when he told her of his plan to resign. She accepted his decision. Though she didn't understand it, she knew that it was important to him. It was the path he had to follow, he'd said. Who was she to prevent him from following his path?

So, he would no longer be a cop. He was still the same man that she had fallen for. The same one who was smart, and passionate, and thoughtful -- but whom she woke to find meditating more and more often. He was still Peter. Her Peter. Burns on his arms couldn't change that -- could they?

The sound of keys in the lock startled her. She turned toward the door just as the object of her contemplation entered, framed for a moment in the brilliance from the hall. She squinted in the glare.

"Jordy, you okay?"

She blinked to clear the after image from the sudden flash as Peter pushed the door shut and moved forward almost in a single motion.

"I'm fine." She grasped for him in the darkness.

"You sure? You're standing here in the dark."

"I just got here," she said, releasing him. She couldn't suppress the flutter of apprehension that he knew that something was wrong. She didn’t want him to think that she didn't support him, or opposed the decisions that he had made. She held her breath as the silence stretched.

"Are you hungry?" Peter finally spoke. "I know it's late, but I've got groceries down in the car."

Jordan released a slight breath of relief as Peter moved toward a lamp and switched it on. "In the car?" she teased. "What's it doing down there?"

Peter hesitated just a fraction of a second before responding. "It's been a kinda rough night. I actually forgot until just now."

Jordan frowned. "It is a bit late for a guy doing the priest gig. Want to talk about it?"

"I'd much rather you tell me what's bothering you," Peter said, taking a step closer.

Jordan took a step back. "What makes you think something is bothering me?"

Peter looked thoughtful for several moments before her answered. "I just know. I knew down in the car."

She turned away from him, struggling with the feelings that seemed to have been building for weeks. They had gained momentum during the time he and Kermit had broken into that secret government facility. His taking the brands and quitting the force had brought them to a head -- now she felt as if she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The shoe with her name on it.

"You don't have to be afraid, Jordy." Peter spoke again. "You're not going to lose me."

Jordan turned back toward him, wondering that he could see her fear and not know that the reason for that fear was the very fact that he could see it so clearly.

"You're wrong, Peter," she said. "I do have to be afraid. So much is different, I don’t know how to handle it. I don't know what it all means."

"I'm still Peter. I just changed jobs."

She smiled humorlessly, wondering if he could possibly know that she'd had that very same argument with herself. Would she always be wondering how much he knew of her thoughts? "You changed more than jobs," she said.

Peter reached for her, took her hands in his. "I'm still Peter," he repeated. "I'm still the same Peter."

Jordan shook her head sadly. "You sound like you're trying to convince yourself. Well, let me help you. When we first started dating, you defined yourself as a cop. But things have changed since them. It was like there was this battle going on, and the Shaolin side finally won. You're quoting Shaolin proverbs to Kermit and you know things. You've gotten branded as a Shaolin priest. You've quit the police force, leaving everything behind that you've built in your career as a police officer. You just let it all go. You no longer define yourself as a cop.

"You have changed, Peter, and I just don't know where I fit in anymore. I don't know if there's anything for us in this new path of yours. I don't know if you're going to look up one day and realize that I don't really belong."

Jordan bit her lip when she finished speaking, watching as Peter absorbed the implication of her words.

He swallowed, then tugged at her arm and drew her toward the sofa. After they sat, he placed her hand on his knee and covered it with his own.

"You're right," he said. "There was a battle, but there were no winners and no losers. There is only the balance. I'm still a cop at heart. But I'm also Shaolin. I can't deny either. They're both a part of my heritage, from Paul and from Pop.

"I quit the force because I could no longer work within the system. My conscience wouldn't allow it. But that doesn't mean that I've abandoned it, that the people are no longer important, that you are no longer important. Or that I'm not scared to death that I'm going to fall on my face.

"I no longer define myself as a cop because I define myself as Peter Caine. In here," he lifted her hand from his knee and touched it to his chest, "in my heart, that's who I am. That's all I can ever be. I can't make promises on what will happen in the future. I'm just a man, and I don't know what's going to take place. I don't know what I'm going to be doing in six months. I don't know if I'm going to go down as the worst Shaolin priest known to humanity. But for all the things I don't know, there is one thing I do know. You belong, Jordan McGuire. You're a part of my heart and I don't want to let you go."

Jordan felt the pounding of his heart beneath her hand, saw the warm, earnest light in his eyes. And felt herself going to mush. "You're a part of my heart, too, Peter. I will love you always."

She leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. Peter pulled her closer to intensify the gesture. Just when things were getting interesting, he pulled back.

"I should go grab that bag of groceries," he explained, dropping another kiss on her lips. "Hold that thought."

Jordan eyed him wickedly as he moved toward the door. "Not a problem."

"Be careful," Peter shot back. "I might be able to sense something naughty."

"Oh, I hope so," Jordan told him. "I definitely hope so."

When he shut the door behind himself, Jordan leaned her head against the cushions of the sofa and closed her eyes. She had no doubt that he would return in record time. But he would return. For now. That was all he could offer. Yet it was everything and nothing. Wherever it led, or however long it lasted, she was willing to take that chance. She would be there waiting for him. Peter, her Peter, was worth it.