Work Text:
Cho is not a clumsy person. He wouldn’t necessarily call himself graceful, but he isn’t the sort to walk into doors. Whenever Rigsby does something like that, he has the good grace not to laugh at him, just to stare at him disapprovingly, then bring it up to Van Pelt later to shame him.
So when Cho trips over a curb while chasing a suspect and fractures his ankle, he’s pretty embarrassed. The doctor says it isn’t anything that won't heal, he can go back to work right away, but desk duty only. He has to use crutches to walk, limping into the CBI offices unsteadily. Having to wear tennis shoes to work is making him self conscious too.
“I got that for you.” Jane appears beside him, holding the door that Cho was struggling to get himself through. He takes Cho’s bag too. “Where are we headed?”
“The office.” Cho nods to the elevator at the other end of the lobby. “Hightower said she’d stop by when she had a minute, instead of dragging me all the way up to her office.”
“Got ya.” Jane shoulders Cho’s bag and walks him to the elevator.
Using the crutches is a lot easier without trying to wrangle his bag too. He makes it to the elevator without dropping his crutches and leans against the wall while Jane presses the buttons for him. His ankle hurts a lot less than it did when he was in the hospital. Maybe he could try walking on it, but the last thing he wants to do is make it worse and keep himself out of the field for longer.
Jane trots on ahead, leaving Cho’s bag at his desk. Then he pulls Cho’s chair out for him and takes his crutches and leans them against his desk as he sits down.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Jane asks.
“Uh, coffee would be good. Thank you.” Cho turns on his computer and tries to find a comfortable position to put his ankle in. There isn’t one, so he huffs and resigns himself to aching for the rest of the day.
Van Pelt walks in as Jane goes into the kitchen. She has something big and grey under her arm, wrapped in plastic. Cho can’t for the life of him think what it would be until she brings it over to him.
“I got you a stool!” She says, using a pair of scissors from Cho’s desk to strip the plastic wrap off. “There’s a cushion in my bag, hold on.”
She sets up the stool with the cushion on top and pushes it under Cho’s desk. He picks up his foot and puts it on top. It isn’t painless, but it’s significantly more comfortable than anything else he’s tried today.
“Thanks, Grace.” He says, shifting in his chair until he’s completely comfortable. She smiles at him and goes back to her desk.
“Voila.” Jane returns with a mug of coffee. “One hot coffee, splash of milk, not a touch of sugar.”
“Thank you.” Cho takes a sip, expecting it to be not great, but it’s actually okay. “You made this?”
Jane gestures vaguely. “I may have had some minor assistance with the machine from Agent Rigsby.”
“I got you a bagel.” Rigsby appears, holding two plates with two different bagels. “Well, I got a plain one and an everything one, because I didn’t know which one you’d want. I’ll eat the other one.”
“Plain is fine, thanks.” Cho takes it from him gratefully. He gave up on trying to make himself breakfast this morning, limping around his apartment kitchen pathetically.
“I thought I told you that you didn’t have to come in today.” Lisbon says as she passes on the way to her office.
“I don’t get served coffee and bagels at home.” Cho points out.
Lisbon nods. “Yeah, fair enough. No chasing after bad guys for at least a month, though.”
“Yes ma’am.”