Disclaimer: If I could afford the rights to The Mentalist, I'd buy them. Meanwhile, I'm making no money off these characters.
Author's Note: So a while ago I saw Code Red on TV and decided to tweet it. Entwife kindly joined me and we had a blast, and I jokingly said Cho needed to tell someone about his day. It stuck in my head, so here's what I did with it.
It's a pretty dead night, just a couple of regulars minding their own business, when the bell on the door jangles and he walks in. "Hey, KC," I call. "The usual?"
"Yeah. Thanks." He settles in his usual seat at the bar.
I'm happy to see it's story time. Sometimes he brings a book and sits in a booth, which means he just wants a beer and to be left alone. But when he sits at the bar, he wants to talk.
Well, sort of. He's not one for small talk. But he tells the best stories about his job.
When he first started coming in, I wasn't sure what to make of him. Never more than one beer, pays in cash, and definitely not looking to pick someone up. I thought he might be from an alcoholic family, afraid to drink alone or something.
Then one night a couple of idiots got out of hand and smashed the place up, and he went into action. When the cops finally showed he identified himself: Agent Kimball Cho, CBI. I googled him that night and found names for the people he works with that he'd only described, never named. And I figured out why: they're the Red John hunters.
I'll never tell him I know, because I think he'd stop coming in. And I feel safer when he's here. When I work closing, he always walks me to my car. If I weren't married, I'd ask him out. Well, except for the serial killer chasing thing.
"How are Blondie and the Boss?" I ask as I bring him his beer.
His lips tug into a split second smile. I think he likes the names I made up for the characters in his stories. "Funny you ask. Thought I was going to get promoted today."
"Oh yeah? What happened?"
He takes a swig. "Thought they were both dead."
"Are they okay?" I've never met Patrick Jane or Teresa Lisbon, but I feel like I know them from Cho's stories. I feel a little sick at the thought of them getting hurt.
"Yeah. It was all a con. Caught the killer; he walked right into our hands. But there are a lot of pissed off people out there tonight."
"That's what usually happens after one of Blondie's schemes, isn't it?" I'm relieved everybody's okay, but I can't wait to hear the story behind that.
Cho gives a little huff that might be a laugh in his head. "You got that right."
I lean on the bar eagerly. "So tell me all about it."
"A scientist called us to investigate her own murder."
"That's a first." Oh, this is going to be good.
"Yeah. Somebody let a virus loose in a lab. She died a little while later. It had to be one of the other scientists, but the security system was broken so we couldn't tell which one."
"Sounds like this lab should be shut down." If you're going to work with killer viruses, you should be more careful.
"The CDCA is all over it now. Turns out the killer was stealing the virus and selling it on the black market, and he killed the victim to cover it up."
I shudder. "Well, that makes me feel safe."
"He's going to prison for a long time."
"So what was the con?" I love the cons the best. Patrick Jane may not be psychic anymore, but he sure has one twisted mind.
"Our consultant made everyone believe the killer opened another flask of the virus and contaminated the whole place. Everybody in the building thought they were going to die in a few hours. He knew the killer had taken the vaccine and had to escape before the place got torched."
"Whoa. That's a little bigger scale than his usual. So were you there?"
"No. My partner and I were still on the way. We didn't know anything was going on until Boss called."
I'm glad he was safe. "What did she say?"
Cho looks down, then takes another long drink from his bottle. When he talks, I'm startled by how his voice sounds. He's never been this emotional before. "She asked me to call her brother and tell him her last dying wish."
Wow. That must've felt like a punch in the gut. "Which was?"
He shrugs. "Some family fight she wanted him to resolve. Last dying wish was about her family. Not a thought about herself."
"She sounds like a good woman." I know he worries about her, even if he'd never admit it. Blondie gets her into trouble all the time.
"The best." He takes another drink. "I knew my first day there that I could learn a lot from her. I almost quit until I watched her work. She's not just a boss; she's a leader. When my chance comes, I hope I'm half as good as she is." He paused. "And I'm glad today wasn't my chance."
"I bet she is too."
He grins a little. "Yeah. She punched him in the nose when he told her she wasn't dying. Or so he says."
I've heard enough of these stories to know you can't believe a word Blondie says. "You think he's lying?"
"I hope not," Cho says. "He deserves a good punch. I'd give him one myself, but I'm afraid I'd really hurt him. Don't want him out on sick leave; it'd take longer to close cases."
"Right." Cho might talk like he doesn't care about Blondie, but I know he does. The first story he ever told me was how the conman helped find the man who killed his old buddy. He'd just broken up with his girlfriend and came in for a beer, and I could tell that he was grateful for the help.
"He's a pain in the ass," Cho says, "but he gets the job done. I just wish I'd never gotten that phone call. It was out of the blue. I should have thanked her for everything she's taught me, but I could barely get anything out. If she'd died I would have regretted that all my life."
"What would you have told her?" I'm really curious.
"That it was an honor working with her. That I'd look after the team for her, make her proud." He takes another drink. "That I'd make sure her brothers knew how brave she was at the end. And I'd get R—get the guy we've been looking for. Though I guess she wouldn't care about that as much as he would."
"Did you talk to him too?"
"He called a minute later to tell me it was a con and where to go pick up the killer. It wasn't a long conversation." He seems to cheer up a little. "At least he was quick enough I didn't have to tell my partner."
"That's good. I bet that would've been tough."
"Yeah, I hate making him cry." His dry tone tells me he's joking, but only partly. We both know if there'd been a funeral, his partner wouldn't be the only one shedding a tear.
Cho finishes his beer, then says, "Another."
"Really?" He's never had two. I hope this isn't a bad sign.
"Yeah."
I grab another bottle of his favorite out of the cooler and hand it to him. "Tough day."
"Yeah." He takes a drink. "Thing is, we tell people their loved ones are dead all the time. But I've never had to tell the family of somebody I care about. For that minute, I couldn't think what I would say to her brother. Couldn't imagine saying the words. I was terrified I wouldn't be able to, that I'd choke." He pauses for another pull on the bottle. "But when I have my own team, chances are I'll have to make that call someday. I'll have to swallow my own grief long enough to shatter someone's world. And I don't know if I can."
What do I say to him? I'm a bartender. I mix drinks and listen. I have no idea what his job must be like, except for when he broke up that brawl and tonight. But I can see how it weighs on him.
"Well," I say finally, "what would your boss do?"
He gives a little "huh" of realization. "You're right. She'd put them first. If it was me, she'd think about them, not herself. She'd...she'd know it was the last thing she could do for me, and she'd do it. No question."
I smile at him. "So will you, when the time comes."
Cho makes a little almost snort. "You psychic now?"
"No such thing," I say, quoting one of Blondie's lines. "I just know a good man when I see one."
He smiles at me, a real smile. "Thanks."
To my dismay, he gets up from the barstool and pulls out his wallet, handing me enough cash for both beers and a hefty tip. "Thanks," I say.
"You closing?" he asks.
"Yeah. Third night this week."
"I'll swing by later, then. Make sure everything's okay."
"You don't have to do that." Though it's really nice of him to offer.
"I know. See you later." He nods at me and heads out the door.
I pick up his bottle, still more than half full, and smile. Guess he didn't need it after all. I'm glad.
Maybe when he comes back, he'll tell me another Blondie and the Boss story. A funny one this time, like when he got her a pony for her birthday.
You know, I bet those two make a cute couple.