QUESTION TO THE READERSHIP: do we want Cho and Ronnie to have kids one day or are we grossed out by the pregnancy trope? (This is distant distant distant distant future so it's not technically a spoiler)
Just don't want to turn anybody off because of a highly controversial trope.
Enjoy, comment, and vote!!
"You really are dating Jane, aren't you?" Cho's flat voice questioned as they got out of the car in the parking lot of Gaia Matrix. He tossed his sunglasses onto his seat. He locked the doors and squared his shoulders, refusing to look at her as they headed inside.
She, on the other hand, couldn't get enough of his carefully guarded expression. He was eating up her ruse, left, right, and center. The man was so clueless in the way of human relationships. "I'm not ready to discuss this yet." She responded ambiguously, and opened the tall glass doors for him to enter first.
What was it going to take for him to understand that Jane wasn't some kind of cradle robber, but a kind and caring father figure? Why did he take every opportunity to be a curmudgeon when it came to Jane? Cho was her best friend. They'd been through absolute insanity together and he'd practically nursed her back to health—why did he fail to know her when it came to this?
A graying man in a wheelchair was waiting in the lobby for them, looking mild and unassuming in a purple collared shirt and gray cardigan. He smiled at them pleasantly.
Cho switched into agent mode as soon as he stepped through the doors, reaching to shake the man's hand. "Hi. I'm Agent Cho, this is Agent Masters, CBI."
"Stuart Hansen." The man responded, peering up at them both meekly. "I'll take you to Rick."
Ronnie shook his hand as well, politely greeting him.
He immediately began wheeling himself through the lobby, leaving Ronnie and Cho to follow him. "What's your job here, Mr. Hansen?" She asked conversationally, uninclined to spend the entire meeting marinating in Cho's sulking presence. Her prank was more fun when Jane was actually in the room.
The man gave an amused chuckle. "Jim hates labels and pigeonholes. I'm kind of the security chief, but that sounds so fascistic, doesn't it?"
It didn't, but Ronnie didn't say so.
"What I am, really, is the firewalls and encryptions and off-the-wall ideas guy." He came to a stop in front of the elevators and reached out to press the up arrow. "Rick's been in the conference room all morning, dealing with the fallout from Jim's death. He's pretty broken up. We all are." He turned a pitiful gaze up to the agents, prompting Cho to force a sympathetic nod before he went on. "Jim meant so much to this company. To all of us."
The elevator doors opened and Cho gestured for Stuart to wheel himself in first, and then let Ronnie enter before he followed.
Upstairs in the conference room with Jim Gulbrand's business partner, Rick Bergman, Cho took the lead on the interview, as he always did. "The company is co-owned by you and Jim, is that right?"
Rick confirmed the statement, his attitude subdued by the sullenness of the circumstances.
"How did that relationship work exactly?" Cho asked.
Rick's eyes flashed indignantly to Ronnie as he threw up a hand. "Jim was the creative brain behind Gaia Matrix. He was the visionary. I handled the business side." He shrugged forlornly. "We made a good team. He was a genius, but he wasn't aggressive. Me, I'm a jock; competitive; I like to win, make no apologies for it." He spared Ronnie a self-assured smirk.
She didn't have the patience for his ego. "Is that what got you into trouble with the SEC?"
Rick's demeanor crumbled a little, humbled by the blow. "My lawyers warned me this line of questioning might come up. This is all I'm prepared to say on that subject at the moment: I am currently under investigation by the SEC for securities violations due to my role here at Gaia Matrix."
Unimpressed, Cho leaned his elbows on the table top. "That doesn't sound like you said anything."
Ronnie agreed, annoyed.
"You understand why I can't comment any further."
"Did the investigation cause any animosity between you and Jim?" Ronnie wondered, curious as to how much she could get out of him without him catching on. He seemed braggadocios—she thought she might have a chance.
But he just shook his head earnestly. "No. Not at all. We were like brothers."
"Where were you the night of his murder?" Cho asked quietly.
"Home. Alone. Look, you're not getting this. Jim was the creative genius behind Gaia Matrix. Without him, this company is in grave jeopardy. I had nothing to gain and everything to lose by his death."
When Rick's eyes began to tear up, Cho glanced awkwardly at Ronnie, but she knew he shared her opinion that the co-owner of the company was telling the truth.
the MENTALIST
Lisbon strode into the bullpen with Jane after they'd all returned to the CBI from their various assignments. The psychiatrist girlfriend was a hardworking, grieving doctor, the local police hadn't dug up any useful forensic evidence from the victim's house, and, for some reason, Veronica Masters kept batting her eyelashes at her most irritating consultant. Lisbon didn't bother asking why. "Any word from Gulbrand's partner?"
Cho leaned away from his computer to answer, tapping a pen against his keyboard. He hadn't spoken a word to Ronnie since they'd left Gaia Matrix, but his mood had lifted slightly. They'd ordered lunch from his favorite Mexican place. It was a good day. "Not much in the way of motive, but he doesn't have an alibi for the night of the murder." His eyes wandered mid sentence, noticing the way Ronnie had started grinning at Jane when he moved to sit at the table by her desk.
Maybe it wasn't such a good day.
"Gulbrand's brother checked out," Van Pelt was saying. "Gretchen Morris says he was with her the night of the murder. Roommate backs up the story."
Ronnie threw a wadded up taco wrapper at Jane when he had his back turned, and smothered a giggle behind her hand when he lobbed it back at her face. The female blonde was blushing and simpering, while the male blonde was smiling and curious.
Grace's report was inelegantly interrupted by Rigsby coughing and wheezing into his keyboard, hunched over his desk once more.
"Are you still sick?" Cho demanded disgustedly. He actually cheered up at the sound of his friend's misery—at least it distracted him from the gross display of perversion happening in front of him. "Man, go see a doctor."
Rigsby merely grunted in reply, which Ronnie thought was appropriate. "I did," He grumbled. "The dead guy's girlfriend wrote me a prescription."
"So go fill it," Van Pelt encouraged softly.
"By the time I take it, I'll be better."
"What did she give you, anyway?"
Rigsby leaned up to reach into his pocket while Cho shared a mildly irritated look with his partner. They would all be sick by the end of the week. That was the last thing the team needed; a flu cycle; somebody was inevitably gonna get it twice and then it would start all over again. Except, when he tried to meet Ronnie's eyes, he found her completely enamored gaze locked on Patrick Jane, who was observing the sweet interaction between Rigsby and Van Pelt obliviously.
"Osltamilvir phosphate." Rigsby read awkwardly, stumbling over pronunciation.
Jane's brow lowered in consternation. "May I see that?" He reached over and snatched the prescription from Rigsby. After a second of study, he held it up to Lisbon. "Anything about this strike you as odd?" He showed it to Ronnie next, but she didn't see anything weird.
"What's odd about it?" Van Pelt asked. She read the prescription and shrugged. It's not like she was a doctor.
"Exactly." Jane said. "You can read it. When was the last time you saw a doctor's handwriting you could read?"
Lisbon rolled her eyes. The man was an absolute clown. "So, she's precise. Is that what you're implying?"
"Yes. And the possibility that Dr. Brooke Harper is not a doctor." Jane returned simply. He bounced on the balls of his feet and smirked cutely.
"Because she has penmanship skills?" Lisbon laughed. She'd mastered the dismissive tone. It just came as a reflex whenever Jane started speaking.
However, even Ronnie felt dubious about the line of reasoning.
"And she doesn't have that cold, creepy, doctor-y vibe they all have." The mentalist added smartly.
"Be fair," Rigsby argued. "Not all doctors are cold and creepy."
Ronnie would beg to differ.
"First day of medical school, they get a stack of books and a dead human being. That, I'm afraid, will change you. Brooke Harper was warm and emotional." Jane stared confidently at Lisbon, who was seconds away from mocking him.
"You like her, so she can't be a doctor?"
Jane rolled that idea around in his head for a second and then petulantly smiled back at her. "Pretty much."
Cho immediately pinned Ronnie with a smug smirk, which she pointedly ignored.
"The AMA and Boston General both have records of a Brooke Harper." Grace announced from her computer. "But it says here that she's 64 years old."
"Wow, she looks pretty good." Jane surmised sarcastically.
Lisbon was staring at him like he was the bane of her existence. "Is there a word for uncanny, yet irritating?"
Jane was smirking behind her back, and shot Ronnie a wink.
Cho deflated once more, shoulders hunching tensely over his desk. "Okay, I'll go talk to her then." He snatched up his jacket and turned to Rigsby. "Get up. Grab your Kleenex. You're coming with me." He completely ignored Ronnie on his way out the door, and she knew she was being snubbed.
Despite inarguably being the reason for the very predictable beef between them, she couldn't help but feel disappointed as he turned his back on her. Sure, maybe she was pranking him because she knew how grossed out he was by the age difference between her and Jane, but he was her best friend. He should have been supporting her, right?
Or, better yet, he should have been having a conversation with her about how he didn't believe that Jane was right for her. He should have been looking out for her, not kicking her out of their partnership and taking the plague boy in her stead.
She slumped down in her seat, arms crossed over her chest. He should have been talking to her instead of giving her his cold shoulder. After all they'd been through together, he should have been finding a constructive way to address the relationship that he clearly thought was abominable.
Jane noticed her distress, and came to sit on the edge of her desk.
She should mount a cushion and a cup holder there, for all the times people decided to plant their butts on her desk.
Beholding her morose expression with a thoughtful one of his own, the mentalist interlaced his fingers atop his lap. "What's happening here, Ronnie?"
She shook her head, uncomfortable with the idea of explaining her childish conundrum.
"Come on, you're giving me doe-eyed looks, and Cho's frowning at you like you spit in his coffee, and now you're pouting at your computer. You'd better tell me before my imagination catches up with me, because it sort of looks like Cho's jealous of your feelings for me."
Ronnie hesitated, unsure how to parse that assumption.
Jane gave a short laugh. "No, no, you don't have feelings for me. I know better, so tell me what's really going on."
She sucked in a breath, and then let it all out. "He thinks we're dating."
"Why would he think that?"
"Because he's a moron."
"Or, maybe, it's because you keep giggling at me. You don't giggle, Veronica." Jane's eyes were smiling.
Her sigh blew papers around her desk, which reflected the whirlwind state of her mind. "He asked if we were dating. I didn't say no, because it was a stupid question. It's just a prank, I swear, to get him off my back, but he's..." Ronnie threw a pencil down on her desk and watched it leave a jagged mark on an official court record. "He would be more friendly to me if I murdered someone in cold blood. I don't get it."
Jane shrugged one shoulder and turned his head to gaze out the window. "Cho's not really the emotionally available sort. I'm sure he's concerned about your poor taste in men and doesn't know how to tell you because he does like to see you happy."
"Hey, hold on, you do not constitute 'poor taste in men'."
"I'm twenty-five years older than you, Veronica. As far as you're concerned, I'm very a very poor choice in life partner. You know that. Cho knows that. Trust me. By the end of the day, he'll either be talking to you or yelling at me, depending on how he decides to handle what he considers his duty as a friend to do for you. Sometimes it's hard having a best friend of the opposite sex."
That both made Ronnie feel a little better and a little worse.
the MENTALIST
"This is all I was able to find at Brooke Harper's apartment." Cho announced as he entered the breakroom, dropping an evidence bag of hair on the table in front of Jane. He immediately started poking through it and found that the hair was actually a short wig. Cho continued from where he stood digging through the fridge. "Bank account emptied, credit cards maxed out—she must have been packed and ready to leave days ago."
Jane sniffed the wig.
"Her social security number and medical license are fakes too." Cho moved to stand next to the paper towel dispenser, which had a Post-It note penned by Grace, reading, 'Do your OWN DISHES!!' "We have no idea who this woman is."
"Well, we know that she's smart." Lisbon argued. "She posed as a doctor for seven months, managed to elude you and Rigsby."
Ronnie hid a smile behind the lip of her coffee cup, and, when Cho flashed her a scowl, she put a hand to her stomach and pretended to wince in pain.
The heat of his glare softened instantly until he realized she was faking it. He followed Lisbon closer to their table, holding his own freshly poured cup of coffee. "She had a head start. She didn't elude us."
Jane looked up from the hairy evidence bag with saucer eyes, pinning Cho with an owlish stare.
"All right, she eluded us."
"Well, she's a professional con woman." Jane added. "I mean, she probably specializes in the seduction of rich and successful, socially-awkward men." He pushed the evidence bag towards Ronnie and let her poke through it.
Lisbon looked concerned. "You think she's done this before?"
"Oh, yes. Many times."
"Undoubtedly." Ronnie agreed. "Dozens of times." It took years and years of training and finesse to have the cunning and skill that Brooke Harper had to manipulate and scheme and not get caught. She knew personally that the fake doctor was probably the smartest person in most any room she stood in.
"But why kill Jim Gulbrand?" Lisbon asked. "What's her motive?"
"Maybe he found out the truth about her." Cho suggested.
Lisbon wasn't convinced. "Why not just vanish?"
Ronnie zipped the evidence bag back up and pushed it away. "Most likely she would have disappeared and assumed a completely new identity if he found out about her. Murdering someone is not a good way to stay under the radar when your entire life is swindling unsuspecting victims."
She got a few surprised glances.
Not usually the most vocal of the homicide detectives, Ronnie had created a reputation of being quiet and observant and protective of the evidence, witnesses, victims, and cops surrounding their cases. She rarely put in her two cents from a deductive standpoint, instead being considered more the muscle, like Rigsby.
Her confident analysis of the facts as relating to Brooke Harper took them all a little by surprise.
the MENTALIST
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
She wasn't supposed to make idiotic decisions and expect him to be complicit.
He hadn't saved her from the worst family in the world so she could heal up and start a geriatric relationship. He hadn't backed her in court so she could throw her life away with a man who had lived a whole quarter of a century before she'd ever been born.
He hadn't helped her with her detective's exam or pushed for Minelli to accept her application or held her damn hair back as she puked into his toilet because some fifty-year-old man had had his way with her just so she could go and invite another one in.
She wasn't supposed to throw her life away.
She'd be thirty five years old, ready to move up to a leadership position or maybe go home and have some kids, and how was she supposed to do that when her husband was sixty years old, getting his knees replaced and popping the blue pill?
Cho had to put his lunch fork down.
Imagining Patrick Jane popping the pill to perform for his partner was absolutely the least comforting thing he'd thought of all day, and he'd already been thinking about how the victim of their case had been found bloated and soggy at the bottom of the marina.
He couldn't stand by and not say anything.
He could already see her, pulling her hair out, trying to get her kids through high school, while Jane drooled into a bib at the nearest nursing home.
She deserved better than that.
And maybe she didn't want kids.
Maybe she wanted to work until she couldn't anymore. How long could she do that before she had to divide her attention between her homicide cases and Jane's hospice care?
Or what if she wanted to travel? Jane was quirky, sure, but sometimes he could be a real stick in the mud; and what if he was genetically predisposed to Alzheimer's, or dementia? How was she supposed to spend her forties traveling if her husband was wandering around in his boxers wondering if Ronald Reagan was gonna make it?
Ronnie deserved to grow old with someone, not to grow old while waiting for someone to die.
Everybody loved Patrick Jane. Cho, himself, respected the guy and prioritized his deductive reasoning above anyone else's, sometimes even his own.
He was a good guy. Good, and kind, and real, but he was much too old for Ronnie.
Let Lisbon have him.
She and Jane were only three years apart—let them rot in a nursing home together.
Cho tossed his salad in the trash and went back to work, his mind made up.
He didn't support Ronnie's choices, and he was gonna tell her so.
the MENTALIST
After learning that Gulbrand had been cooperating with the SEC investigation behind his partner's back, and that he'd withdrawn over 10 million dollars from various accounts last year with no record of where it was spent, Lisbon sent Van Pelt and Rigsby to talk to his ex-wife, and Cho and Ronnie to follow up on a new theory that Brooke Harper had stolen a safe key from Gulbrand.
The idea was that maybe Gulbrand had stashed the cash, and Harper knew about it, which is why he would be her target. The ex-wife indicated that Gulbrand had started wearing a key around his neck constantly, but it wasn't found on his body, which suggested that the killer—or someone—had stolen it.
According to Brooke Harper's credit card statements, before Gulbrand's death she had disguised herself as a man, presumably to steal the key. However, her continued presence as Dr. Brooke Harper, still going into work to see her patients, indicated that even if she had obtained the key, she hadn't yet obtained the money.
Jane's next idea was to visit a backgammon club, where he promptly wrapped his arm around Ronnie's waist—much to Agent Cho's ever-growing disgust—and pretended to be Jim Gulbrand until a man appeared out of nowhere and informed him that Jim Gulbrand was a very familiar face around the club, and Patrick Jane was not him.
Despite being caught red-handed, Jane turned to the stiffly-dressed gentleman and did not remove his arm from the young blonde's waist.
Cho's jaw was working an angry pace. "What are you doing?" He demanded of Jane.
The mentalist merely smiled back, and Ronnie felt him swipe a glib thumb across her back. "I'm confirming that Jim Gulbrand is a member here."
"Why not just ask?" Cho gestured to the suited man who still stood in front of them.
Jane's attitude turned a little smug. "Go ahead, ask him."
The younger detective turned to the man. "Is Jim Gulbrand a member here?"
"I'm sorry, sir, we don't divulge membership details."
"See?" A self-satisfied Jane sang.
Cho dug around in his pocket and produced his badge. "This is a murder investigation. Mr. Gulbrand is dead."
"Oh, I'm very sorry to hear that."
Jane patted the man's shoulder with his free hand. "Well, thanks for your help." With that, he swooped Ronnie towards the stairs in a confident attempt to continue to gain access to the club.
The man rushed after him. "Uh, sir—sir, this is a private club." He jumped out in front of them, halting them in their path.
"What I'm learning, which is good for our theory, is that one can't just wander in here and hang out. One needs a plan, eh?" Jane thought aloud, his point invoking enough thought that for a moment, Cho nodded along with him and Ronnie as though he'd forgotten his disgust.
"We're gonna have to take a look around," He said.
The man chuckled primly. "That is not our policy, sir."
"If we have to obtain a warrant, we're gonna take every computer and every piece of paper in this building. And then we're gonna have a sit-down chat with each one of your members."
The man needed only a moment's thought before changing his stance with a smile. "Welcome to the backgammon club."
"Thank you."
Moments later, Jane had a game of dice going with a very distinguished man who claimed to be a prince. Ronnie sat next to him, watching the entire exchange in utter disbelief.
Cho sat across from her, his countenance falling more and more by the second.
"Double?" Jane offered.
"No, you win." The prince returned. "Outrageous luck you have. You are a monster. What is it now?"
Feigning humility, Jane glanced purposefully at Cho. "What is it?"
Cho glanced in annoyance at Ronnie before responding; "Twenty thousand dollars."
She shook her head in awe. If she could casually march her way into a backgammon club and walk away with twenty thousand dollars without robbing a single person, she'd quit her job and set herself up for life. More importantly, her partner was making eye contact with her again, and she couldn't help the new smile that settled on her face.
"I must have my revenge." The prince commented lightly, and reached for the dice again.
"Well, if you insist." Jane shrugged.
"Jane." Cho grumbled.
"What?" Jane glanced between Cho and Ronnie, finding them both giving him matching looks.
Cho leaned in closer, trying to figure out how to tell the consultant that he couldn't win money while working a case. "You want me to spell it out?"
Jane brushed him off. "We're just having fun, right?"
"Absolutely!" The prince agreed.
"First prince I've ever met."
"How sweet."
The condescension made Ronnie's skin crawl.
At that moment, a group of lavishly dressed women strode into the room like a roaming pack of flamingos, catching Jane's attention. "There she blows,"
Ronnie and Cho both turned to look.
One of the women, a slim brunette with oversized sunglasses and an elegant black dress moved away from the pack of women and disappeared through a doorway.
"Prince, can we be excused from this game?" Jane put a hand on Cho's shoulder. "My friend's date just arrived."
Cho pinned him with a burning stare and then glanced apologetically at the prince.
"Of course." The prince looked relieved. "Maybe that's lucky for me, yeah?"
Jane laughed too. "Probably."
The prince reached into his jacket for his checkbook, and Ronnie peeked at Cho to see if he was brave enough to twist Jane's arm again.
"Twenty thousand?" The prince repeated.
"Mm-hm." Jane confirmed gleefully. But then one glance at Cho had the joy seeping directly out of his face, and he leaned back awkwardly in his chair. "Hey, listen. Just forget about it, okay?"
"Certainly not." The prince argued. "You won fair and square."
Jane took Ronnie's hand, as though to comfort himself. "Well, actually, I cheated. I controlled the dice." He scooped them up again in his free hand and demonstrated a perfect roll while his opponent stared on in growing anger. "It's in the wrist. Just in the wrist." He demonstrated again, a perfect roll. "Please don't be offended. I would have taken your money and given it to a worthy cause, but my friend here is a moralist of childish simplicity."
Ronnie was almost offended on behalf of Cho, except that Jane was completely correct.
Jane rose from the table and helped Ronnie up too. "Nice to meet you."
The three of them left the table, feeling the burning glare of the prince on their backs.
In the locker room, the woman with the big sunglasses and sweeping chocolate bangs tried fruitlessly to turn a key in one of the locks. Growing frustrated by the second, her irritation was evident on her face as the agents approached.
"Hello, gorgeous." Jane greeted from behind her, to which she promptly responded,
"Beat it, creep."
Ronnie very much would have agreed with that sentiment if she hadn't known who Jane was.
"I'd call you by your real name, but I don't know what it is." Jane had dropped Ronnie's hand and instead turned his somewhat enamored eyes on the cat burglar con woman before them.
Standing next to Cho, Ronnie watched realization dawn on Brooke Harper's face.
The sunglasses came off, and the woman turned around. "Hello, Mr. Jane."
"Hi."
"I'm impressed," Harper said, leaning against the locker. "Well done."
"Oh, for finding you?" Jane guessed. "Wasn't that difficult."
As Dr. Harper offered him a cigar from the box she carried in her arms, Ronnie noticed Cho taking stock of their surroundings.
Jane reached out and pushed Dr. Harper gently to the right, plucking the ill-fitting key from the lock she'd jammed it in. "My friend Cho here will now take you by the wrist so as not to let you escape us again."
As he spoke, Cho stepped away from Ronnie and took Dr. Harper's arm in his hand. "Hi," He greeted flatly.
"Warm hands." Dr. Harper flirted back.
She definitely had a point, it was the most intimate arrest that Ronnie had ever witnessed.
"Eh, I bet you say that to all your arresting officers." Jane shot back, grinning from ear to ear before leading them out to the parking lot.
the MENTALIST
"We need to talk."
Ronnie turned away from the paperwork she was finally finishing to give her partner a questioning look. Was it finally time? Was he finally going to tell her that she was out of her mind for dating the oldest person on the team?
Cho had a little roller tube of Biofreeze that he was applying to his shoulder, one sleeve of his shirt taken off to reveal his white tank underneath. He'd run shoulder-first into the train station wall after running to tackle Brooke Harper as she'd tried to make her escape with a duffle bag full of ten million dollars.
"It's about Jane," He uttered flatly, screwing the cap back on the menthol gel. "What I'm about to tell you is because you're my friend, alright? You can do whatever you want, but as your friend, I have to say it."
Ronnie turned her swivel chair to watch him stick his arm back through his sleeve and button up his shirt. When he was finished, he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. It was nearly ten o'clock, they were finally about to go home after their case closed pizza, and he hadn't spoken to her since that morning.
"I think you dating Jane is a bad idea. He's too old for you. It's normal for girls with daddy issues to become overly attached to father figures or older men, but it's not sustainable."
She pursed her lips at that assessment, folding her hands in her lap. Psychologically speaking, he wasn't totally wrong, but that certainly wasn't what was happening. "Cho—"
"Listen. A man his age has no business pursuing a girl your age. Plain and simple. It's creepy, it's non-complementary, and it's unwise. Do what you want, but as your friend, I can't support it."
"Choseph—"
"Think about the rest of your life, Masters. Do you want to be pushing your geriatric husband around in a wheelchair in twenty years? Or do you want to be in Aruba with someone who can keep up with you?"
He was going down a weird road. "Kimball."
He fell silent.
"I'm not dating Jane."
Nothing but confusion rolling off of him in waves. "But you've been moronic around him all day."
She rolled her eyes. "For, like, months, you've been wanting so badly to hear that Jane and I are involved, so you can have a reason to hate our relationship."
"That's not—"
"Don't argue with me, you've been on a hair trigger with Jane since the fire that Rigsby and I jumped into. I showed you what you wanted to see, so you could see the difference."
He understood then. "You're not dating."
"Not even a little bit."
"There's no romance there at all."
"Not a trace. I appreciate what you said, though. I would want you to tell me."
A moment passed. They collected their things and headed for the door, . "So he wasn't who you've been texting these past few days?"
"Nope."
Her ambiguity was maddening.
"Who is it?"
"Still not ready to talk about it, sorry."
[end of episode twenty-one]