A/N: I owe thanks to another FanFic author who came up with the "puke" sobriquet. I believe that wouldyoulikeacupoftea came up with that delightful detail. Many thanks.
A Well-Deserved Reward
Chapter 1: A Different Perspective
Lisbon gave a casual wave as she entered the elevator, Friday finally over, Cho watched dispassionately as Lisbon left while Jane pretended to sleep. Who the hell sleeps at work on a Friday night? Cho shook his head, resolute in his determination not to get sucked into the Lisbon-Jane soap opera. They're grown adults. Grown adults. He reminded himself like a mantra. Still it's gonna suck when she's in DC and I get to cope with the fallout . . . forever.
At that cheering thought, he decided to have a drink before heading home. There was a quiet, dim bar a few miles from the FBI building. It was a favorite haunt of FBI agents - on week nights, anyhow. There wasn't enough excitement for a weekend outing, so it promised to be pretty empty. He entered, sat down at the bar, and ordered a Coke since he didn't drink alcohol, reflecting on how stupid it was to buy a soft drink at a bar when he could have a gallon of the stuff at a grocery store for the same money. Fuck it. Atmosphere's worth it. Half paying attention to the ball game, he finally allowed as how Jane wasn't the only one depressed at Lisbon's decision. Lisbon's departure in two weeks would sever one more relationship that had made his decade at the CBI so ... satisfying. Yeah, I like Jane ... Most of the time ... When he's not crazy. ... And not moping. But Jane's not Lisbon. Pike damn well better be good to her or else, he thought glumly. Crap. Sounds like I'm channeling Jane.
Two stools away, another man in a black suit radiated "cop" – law enforcement. Two beer bottles stood empty in front of him, a third about to join them. After a while, the man glanced Cho's way.
"Hey. Aren't you one of Abbott's team?"
"What of it?"
He shrugged, taking a swig. "Just heard the rumors about that little woman agent leaving for DC – the one who was hired as part of that con man's deal, 's all."
"Don't want to talk about it."
"Don't blame you. Rumor has it Puke – uh, that is Pike lured her to go with him."
Cho was evenly divided between distaste for a conversation with a nearly drunk agent, and curiosity about the man his former boss was moving 1,500 miles to be with. Cho didn't have an axe to grind against Pike – Jane's got that covered – but then again he had no particularly favorable reactions to Pike either. Cho stopped thinking about it as the other agent continued.
He stuck out his hand, "Don Reedy. Art Theft Division."
Cho shook his hand. Huh! Co-worker of Pike's – former co-worker that is. Maybe I can get more insight into the man. "Kimball Cho. -So, what about Pike? You don't seem too fond of him."
Reedy snorted, "Fond? Yeah, like I'm fond of poison ivy."
Cho turned sideways to face Reedy. "What's not to like? Mr. Eagle Scout from what I hear. Honest. Brave. Open. Loyal."
The man scowled and choked a bit on the beer he'd sipped. "Mr. Eagle Scout rooked me out of three commendations and a promotion. This'll be the second promotion he doesn't deserve. That I know of."
"Why?"
Reedy dug a folded sheet from his pocket, opened it, and smoothed it, ignoring the wet blotches where the paper soaked up drips of beer. "That Jane character is under Abbot, right? Here's Pike's write-up of the case they worked on."
Cho read the write up. He wouldn't have recognized the case from Pike's description. Since Cho had also worked that case, that was saying something. "Pike wrote this?"
"Yeah. Pike sounds brilliant, doesn't he? Pike realized the con man could help with the case. Pike approached Abbott and convinced him. Pike engineered the sting. Pike was right about everything, doncha know?" The man's words were getting slurred.
"Maybe the guy's a glory hound. He's still a decent agent with a good record."
"On paper. All on paper. –Look. I've worked with that loser for five years. He's a piss poor agent. No imagination, no initiative. Everything in his record is him claiming credit for someone else's work."
"So what are you saying? Pike falsified the report?"
He shook his head, movement exaggerated from the alcohol. "Oh no. Puke's too good for that. He never lies about facts, something he could be nailed on. It's just that the good guesses, the important insights, the useful alliances. They are all Puke's idea. All."
Cho shrugged, playing devil's advocate, wondering how deep this went. "Still not a crime."
"Actually it is. Remember those three commendations? Those gold stars are a way the brass judges leadership potential. V-e-r-y important. So important it's a misdemeanor to claim undeserved credit. Lie about the case supporting a commendation and it goes on your record. Lie twice, you can get booted. Brass doesn't like being fed crap by brown noses like Puke."
"If it's that blatant, how's he get away with it?"
"He's a tick. A leech. Puke latches on to someone with real talent – like that little woman agent of Abbott's – and sucks up the good ideas. When he's got as much as he can, he goes on to the next. Puke never had an original idea in his life. He's brilliant all right. Brilliant at playing the bureaucracy. Fuck. He'll probably end up running the DC bureau. So long as he doesn't run out of talent he can suck dry."
The man lurched to his feet. "Nice talkin' to ya. Gotta go to the john, then home before my wife busts my chops. Drunk and late, y'know. But I'm celebrating. No more Puke for me. He can blight the DC office for awhile." He turned to leave.
Cho noticed the folded paper still on the bar. "Wait. Your paper."
"You keep it," he mumbled. "I know it by heart."
