AN: Some Cho-centred stuff for you here, really trailing him from his departure from CBI up until we meet him in the FBI in 6x09. With lots of Lisbon because I love their friendship. Please do review!
ii. an dara
His reputation precedes him. Of course, he had been used to that as a younger man, but he'd forgotten what that felt like. But his reputation precedes him. Even here, a thousand miles away from the breakdown of the CBI, it haunts him still.
"Where you from anyway?" a fellow recruit, Maurice, asks him. "What brings you here to the FBI?"
"California," Cho replies. He doesn't answer the second question. Maurice keeps looking at him.
"Needed a change," Cho finally says.
"Nice," Maurice says. "You lived there? California?"
"Yes."
"Nice," Maurice repeats. "Which part?"
He doesn't want to answer, knows what's about to happen.
"Sacramento."
"Oh," Maurice nods, and it is then Cho sees realisation fall; a change come over his face, a short intake of breath. "Oh."
And it's then Maurice realises just why Cho needed that change so badly.
Small talk was never meant to be this uncomfortable. Within the moment Maurice is gone. Cho is getting used to it again. The whispers, the stares.
When he'd fled Oakland for the army it hadn't taken long for word about his previous life to get around. It's happening here too and he suddenly feels twenty years old again. Only this time, he hasn't done anything wrong. But still they stare.
More than once he's heard muttered mentions of the "California Bureau of Investigation", of the "Blake Association". Red John is long cold in the ground and yet he's still haunting them; haunting them all in all their corners where they've been scattered.
If they were all here, it might be different. They would be the ones who took on Red John and a crooked institution of law enforcement and won. They'd be untouchable, if they were all here together, with Jane infuriating a whole new set of people, Grace charming them all; Rigsby finding his way around a new kitchen, and Lisbon at the helm as always.
But they're not all here, they've been scattered, and Cho sits alone pushing his canteen-bought peas round a dulled grey-white plate and hearing people's talk about him. It doesn't have the same effect, he thinks, and it occurs to him that it really isn't fair. He deserves more. They all do, but starting to consider who deserved their lot in life wasn't something to come back from, so he doesn't, and just gets on with his own, and continues to push a thoroughly mediocre lunch round a dulled grey-white plate.
Every now and then, however, Cho takes a moment to think of Jane. Despite all, he regretted nothing. He hoped he was okay, or as okay as Jane could be, especially now, a thousand miles from Lisbon.
Lisbon.
And there was the guilt.
After years of being her right hand man, it had now been longer than he cared to admit since he had spoken to his former boss. He hoped to God she was faring well. More than any of them this had been hardest on her. She'd worked so hard for her career, he knew; had sacrificed more than she'd ever planned on for it, he guessed. On occasion she had encouraged him towards promotion, to be a Senior Agent and lead his own team himself. He had been tempted more than once, but couldn't not work for her.
And that had been working well for him, until now. What good was it now, here he was training for a job where she'd never be. And yet she'd been so proud, so happy for him, the last time they'd spoken.
i. an chéad
He goes to see her before leaving Sacramento.
"All set for the move?" she asks, over a mug of tea in her living room. He's been here a couple of times before, but never like this.
He sees the fear in her eyes. He's been reading her for years. Probably not as well as Jane, of course, but he has. He knows her very well.
"If they'll take me, they'd take you," he offers. "You could come with."
She is looking at the floor, shakes her head slightly.
"Nah," she says finally. "I think I'm done."
It is then she looks up, seeking his reaction. He tries not to let her see that it nearly breaks his heart to hear her say those words.
He thinks of Lisbon as she was: driven, determined, severely independent; and is struck as he realises this is partly his fault too. He gets it, he does. They'd worked so well as a team, a unit for so long that anything else would be a compromise, a letdown. It could never be the same again. It never would be the same again, and that was something they would all have to come to terms with.
"You're done," he repeats, looking her straight in the eye.
She nods, uncertainly.
"No," he says. "You can't. Lisbon, you can't."
"Cho-"
"You're too good at this, Lisbon, to give it all up."
"Give it all up?" she asks. "There's nothing left to give up, Cho! It's all gone."
She sounds desperate, and yet dulled, defeated and it makes him angrier than he's felt in a long time. But he is still himself, so he doesn't say a word; just nods.
"Don't let him make a shambles of your career," he says quietly then, after a moment. "He's taken enough from you already. From us all. But he's gone now, and you can move on."
"Red John," she says.
Cho cocks his head to the side slightly, looks at her. "No. Jane."
Lisbon's mouth falls open.
Jane is like a hurricane, always has been, and he has left them abandoned in his path of destruction. Cho doesn't blame him; given the circumstances, he himself would have done something similar. But too many people have been looking at this from Jane's point of view, and not enough from Lisbon's. He often wonders does she realise how hard done by she has been by others, or worse still, has realised it and thought it didn't matter. She has always been selfless, but this is bordering on crazy.
He leans forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, hands joined.
"Lisbon, please. You can't give this up. Come with me, we can start over with the FBI. It's not the CBI, it never will be; but it's something, and it might be alright."
She looks at him.
"I'm sorry," she says. She shakes her head. "I just can't."
He sighs, tries to hide his frustration.
"But you go," she's saying. "Go and do me proud."
She lowers her head, looking him in the eye. "I am so proud of you, Kimball, really. You'll do brilliantly."
He knows he is defeated, raises the corners of his lips to her slightly and hopes she is right.
iii. an tríú
He paces, the heels of his uniformly shined shoes clicking on the polished tiles of the FBI reception area.
She's late. Probably twice as nervous as he is, although she's not meant to know what's going on yet. Perhaps she's figured it out though.
A week previous, Abbott calls Cho to his office.
"We have a problem."
"Yes?"
"He won't come without her. If we don't get Lisbon, we won't get Jane."
Cho knows what this is about. Abbott has recently took a notion to get Jane back on board with the FBI, make him their new toy. Cho hadn't thought it was a good idea. Now he knows it isn't.
"I'm not going to help you," Cho says firmly.
"Excuse me, Agent Cho?" Abbott says, tone curious, firm.
"I won't be helping you recruit Lisbon," Cho repeats.
"What makes you think we want to recruit Lisbon?" Abbott asks.
"If Jane says he won't come without Lisbon, he won't come without her. You're not going to get me to force her to. If she wants to, fine, but she won't want to."
"Do you know what Teresa Lisbon is doing these days?" Abbott asks.
Cho's lips tighten. "Law enforcement," he says.
"She's working as a sheriff in some backward Hicksville town. She's wasted there, Cho, surely you of all people can see that."
"I can."
He can see it, of course he can, but he just wants her happy. To be honest, he had just been glad to hear she was still working in the law enforcment.
"So," Abbott is saying. "You won't help. I'd thought after all you'd be eager to please."
"No, sir," he says. "Not with this. Not Lisbon."
"You're very loyal to her, Agent Cho."
"Yes."
"She was very good to you?"
"Yes."
"Then can't you see how good she could be to us?"
Cho bites his tongue. He shouldn't say this, but the words are out and gone before he can stop them.
"You don't want her for her, you want her for Jane. She's spent too long being wanted that way. Jane's been messing her life up for too long, and she's finally rid of him."
"Rid of him?" Abbott repeats. "I don't think she's rid of him at all, Agent Cho. When I went to see her last month.. no, I don't think 'rid' is the right word at all. I think she'd be much happier here, doing what she does best. Surely you can't disagree?"
"Permission to leave, Sir?" Cho says.
Abbott holds his gaze. "Permission granted, Agent Cho. Thank you for your input. Thank you."
A week later now. Still he paces.
He stops again, and looks out to the car park. A taxi has pulled up, Texas plates, unnoticed by him. He can see her silhouetted in the back seat, talking to the driver.
The door opens, time stretches and finally she gets out. She looks around, handbag slung over her shoulder, a little lost.
He takes a deep breath, straightens his tie, heads outside.
It's been too long.
"Lisbon," he calls as he walks toward her, and she turns. Her face lights up, and he realises just how much he has missed her.
"Cho!" She is beaming, smile across her face. She looks great.
She walks, half-runs towards him and throws her arms around him.
"God, I've missed you," she says, pulling back from their embrace and taking him in. "So much. Missed you so much."
"Me too," he says. "You look good."
She shrugs, half-laughs.
"You know," she says, dismissive, and it covers a multitude."
"I do," he says.
They quiet then, and think of all that has gone before.
"Bet you thought you'd gotten rid of me," she smiles.
He says nothing. She has no idea of what's ahead, what might be ahead of them all, depending on her word.
He gestures towards the building behind them.
"Shall we?"
She nods, smiles. "Get you, at home in the FBI. Going to give me the tour, are you?"
"Something like that," he says, and pushes the door forward, holding it open for her.
He has felt such guilt for not being in touch with her more often, and marvels at how it feels as though no time has passed at all. They have been very lucky after all, he knows.
It is very surreal to have her here, and though he is glad, he doesn't know how she will take Abbott's development, how she will react to having Jane beside her again, after two years apart.
He doesn't know all that, but as they cross the front foyer, the click of his polished shoes has been joined by the click of hers, and as they turn to walk down the corridor together, all he knows for now is how nice it is to walk together as colleagues and friends once more.
