A/N: A sort-of fluffy Chummer piece for Valentine's Day. I love these two characters and this story practically wrote itself last night. Could be multi-chapter, but probably not (let me know if you really want it to be!) Please read and review :) Enjoy!
I do not own the original show characters, they belong to the creators and CBS.
He had a desk now. It was weird. Except for a brief twelve hours back at the CBI when he'd used Lisbon's office during her suspension, he had spent his entire professional life either in the field or at a desk in one bullpen or another. Noisy, communal spaces with little privacy and less comfort. Certainly less filing space.
It still felt like Abbot's office. Even now, as he finished unpacking the last of his stuff from the cart that he'd wheeled over from his own former desk, it didn't feel like his office. His name on the door. His name on a plaque on the desk.
Well, it would just take some getting used to.
He surveyed the room. Blank walls and a lot of empty space, but good enough for now. Orange white streetlights spilled between the blinds, coming in from the darkness of the parking lot outside. The building was almost empty. It was February 14th; people who could had gone home to spouses or out on dates. Jane and Lisbon, whom Cho had awarded in his mind the prize for most undemonstrative yet still totally obvious couple, had left around five in a very unsubtle manner. Now it was just him and—he looked out his doorway—him and Wylie.
Wylie was working late a lot these days, still mourning Vega. Wylie was following him into the field, Wylie was losing himself in work. He was dedicated. Cho would have to talk to him about that. It was the same thing he himself had done for years, and he was by no means convinced that it was a good idea, really, although it was too late for him to change. Wasn't too late for Wylie, though. He needed to get out of the office more, and not just into the field.
There was a double tap on his doorjamb. He didn't look up from locking his desk drawers.
"Hey, Wylie, you can just leave that paperwork on-"
"Hello, Kimball Cho."
That little girl smoker's voice. He hadn't heard it in three years. His head snapped up.
Summer. Summer Edgecombe was standing in his office doorway, high heels, fake fur coat, short blonde hair and all.
"Summer. What are you doing here?"
"Well, hello to you too, Agent Cho. I'm here to see you, of course. Surprise!" She wiggled her hands theatrically and smiled.
She had been crying, he could tell. One minute in her presence and it all came back, everything he'd shut down and put away three years ago when he'd watched her drive away, eight months pregnant, going to marry the baby's father.
"Where are you living now? How did you find me?"
She ignored the first question. "I went all detective-y and tracked you down. It was exciting."
"You Googled me, didn't you."
"Still know how to take the fun out of everything, don't you, Kimball?"
"Does Marshall know you're here?"
She stepped further into the office and sat in one of the chairs across from his desk. "Marshall no longer wishes to be apprised of my whereabouts," she said grandly, drawing out each word.
"So you've broken up, then."
"I'm free!" She waggled her left hand. "I've run away!"
Cho closed his door and walked over to her. She was having trouble meeting his eyes, instead flicking her glance around the room, shifting restlessly in that way she had. Always moving. She didn't look like she was on drugs again,at least. She looked good, actually. Older, and she'd gained weight in a good way. It made her look healthier, less like a street kid. She must be almost thirty now.
She was crying. Her face was turned away, but he could tell. He could always tell.
"Was he hurting you?" he asked, as non-bluntly as he could.
She shook her head, kept shaking it. "Marshall is a good man. And good men don't stay with bad girls."
"So he found out about your past. That you used to be a prostitute."
Summer flashed him a fake, blinding smile. "And the drugs, and the arrests, the whole shebang." Quieter, she said, "He called me a whore. Said I wasn't fit to be a mom. And...other stuff. He said a lot of things." She met his eyes at last, tears standing in them, eyeliner smudged. "I'm a good mom. I know I am. First thing in my life I'm good at that's legal." She huffed out a laugh. "So, I picked up my daughter and we left. We're free."
Cho scrubbed his hands over his face. "Summer...Does he know? Is he going to come after you with kidnapping charges?"
"Oh no. He doesn't care any more. He was all, Well, maybe she isn't even mine!" She mimicked a deep voice. "Even though, duh, I wasn't a working girl anymore. Good riddance to bad rubbish, right?"
"I'm sorry, Summer," he said gently.
She nodded, studied her chipped pink nails.
"Where's your daughter?"
Summer jerked a thumb out towards the bullpen. "The kid out there said he'd watch her for a minute. Hey, he's really young. I didn't know they let teenagers into the FBI."
"They don't. You have to be 23." Summer raised an eyebrow, and Cho tried not to smile. "Wylie's 24."
"Riiiight. If you say so, Agent Cho." She bounced to her feet. "Do you want to meet her?"
"Yes. I'd like that."
He followed her out to Wylie's desk. The young man had dug up a pink highlighter and was playing tic tac toe with a grave brunette toddler. She had already beaten him at three games, by the looks of it.
"Hey baby, this is Agent Kimball Cho." She dropped to a crouch beside her daughter, brushing the hair away from her forehead. "He was my friend a long time ago. Cho, this is my daughter, Kim."
He swallowed, hard. The little girl, Kim, was staring at him, her eyes far too wise. He heard Wylie surreptitiously retreating to another desk.
He looked at Summer and she smiled. "It was the best name I could think of," she whispered.
He held out his hand. "Good to meet you, Miss Kim."
Kim shook his hand carefully with her own tiny one. "Hi, Mr. Cho."
Summer stood up and swung Kim into her arms.
"You take care of your mom, now, ok, Kim?"
She nodded, her eyes wide.
"Am I being told to go?" Summer asked. "I though maybe you could come to dinner with us. Since I'm in town, and it's Valentine's Day and all." She smiled, tilting her head to the side.
"I have paperwork to file."
The smile vanished. "You always have paperwork to file. The day you die you're gonna make God wait because you have paperwork to file."
"That's probably true."
Summer leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Happy Valentine's Day, Kimball Cho."
Then she walked away to the elevators, heels clicking, head bent over her daughter.
That made the third time he had watched her walk away.
"Wylie!"he called, heading back to his office.
"Yes?"
"Go home."
"'Kay. Good night, Cho." Wylie stuck his head around the door. "She seemed nice."
"She is. She's also-" Wild, chaotic, mesmerizing trouble. "Mm. 'Night, Wylie."
It was almost midnight when Cho finally shut down his computer and left the office. The security guard nodded to him on the way out, and then he was out in the brisk air of a February night in Austin, TX. His SUV was the only one left in the lot. Almost. There was an older sedan parked several rows away. A piece of paper had been stuck under the windshield wiper, and it slapped against the glass in the breeze. Che re-locked his doors and walked over to investigate.
"Its broken," read the note. "Please please please don't tow it I promise to get it tomorrow."
Her handwriting. Another thing he knew. She used to shove notes into his pants before he left for work, suggestive notes in her untidy scrawl, or little cartoons of him and Rigsby taking down bad guys. He slipped the note back under the wiper blade. There was a carseat in the back of the car, and an overflowing duffel bag on the floor. He looked around the empty lot, and set off walking.
There was a bus stop on the corner down the block, a signpost under a streetlight. She stood under the light, swaying on her hips, rocking Kim back and forth.
"I know, baby. Mama's hungry, too. The bus will be here any minute, I promise."
"This bus stops running at 7 o'clock," Cho said, stopping a couple yards away.
She wouldn't look at him. "Thanks for the tip, Agent Cho."
She turned the corner, walking roughly away again.
He went after her.
"Where are you going?"
"Back to my hotel room. I'm not completely helpless, I do have one."
"You're going to walk? Have you been to Austin before? Do you even know where you are?"
She spun to face him. "My car's broke, I'm broke, the bus is broke, what do you suggest I do, huh? Sleep on the streets?"
"Let me give you a ride."
"I don't need to be rescued anymore!"
"I'm not rescuing you. I'm accepting your dinner invitation."
She blinked. "Really?"
"Really."
"But...nothing will be open at this hour."
"There's a Waffle House across town. They're open 24 hours." He stepped closer, and bent to look Kim in the eye. "Do you like waffles?"
She nodded.
"Ok. Good."
They walked back to the lot and transferred the carseat to the back of his SUV. He'd never installed one before and had no idea how it went, but Summer had it all ready to go in minutes, even in the dark. She strapped her daughter in and closed the door, then paused, facing him.
He wanted to know what the right thing to say was. That her past was not, and never had been, a problem to him. That to anyone who deserved her, it shouldn't have even been an issue.
He was totally unprepared for her to throw her arms around him in a giant hug.
A little awkwardly, he hugged her back.
"I missed you, Kimball," she said, her face buried in his shoulder. She was probably getting makeup all over his shirt. "That's why I came here. I missed you."
He held her a little tighter. "I missed you, too."
They stood together for a few minutes longer before he pulled away. "Come on. It's cold, get in the car."
Kim was asleep when they got in.
"Your daughter is beautiful," he said, starting the car.
"She's amazing." Summer twisted in her seat to look back at her. "She's not like me at all."
"She's strong. That comes from you."
The streets in this part of town were as deserted as the FBI offices this time of night. Cho drove, relaxed, one hand on the wheel. He felt Summer wrap her fingers around his and tug his other hand into her lap.
"Hey. Thank you. For everything."
"Don't thank me yet. You haven't seen the Waffle House."
"Why Kimball Cho, did you just make a joke?"
He smiled, turned to look at her, and smiled wider. She squeezed his hand between both of hers and snuggled down into the seat. Soon she nodded off, and Cho drove around the darkened city for a while to let her and Kim sleep. There would be time enough for waffles later.