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—Is he dead?
—Yes. He wouldn't talk.
—You're out of control!
—He made me mad.
Another coin toss. It was a plan of chance, one that had every way of going horribly wrong. Yet, it landed on heads. Cho wouldn't be surprised if Jane had managed to rig the universe itself. A few punches and enemies earned in exchange for a good luck charm in closing cases. Fair enough.
He handed over the janitor to Rigsby and rubbed the weariness from his eyes. It was better that way; otherwise, he'd get written up for roughing up a suspect twice. Reed was already in the car — eyes narrowed, jaw clenched — probably waiting to give Cho, no, Lisbon, a headache in the shape of a lawyer.
"You managed to scare Rigsby for a moment there," the double-edged comment interrupting his train of thought. It was accompanied by that smug grin the consultant wore like a shield.
Cho crossed his arms, turning around to face Jane. He didn't make an effort to respond, it was hard to tell what the other man wanted from this. Better to keep calm, let the adrenaline subside. He was equipped to handle Patrick, but now's not the time.
"Your monologue needs some work, that opener was a bit stiff," he put his hands in his pockets, "but convincing enough to a guilty man."
"Thanks," he couldn't resist giving him the usual dry & sarcastic response. He immediately regretted playing right into Jane's game.
—The second act wasn't all bluff though, right?
—What act?
—Good, thank you.
Elise was fast asleep, her bruised self leaning against the couch cushion. Kimball looked over her, a small smile on his face. He checked the locks and windows. Twice. Thrice. Until he was satisfied. He made his way to the shower, passing by the living room. He hastily took off his dirtied clothes, leaving them in the washing machine. He didn't forget the gun that had been strapped to his belt. With a steady and gentle hand, he put it right on the bathroom sink. The apartment was quiet except for the hiss of the shower. He made sure that the water wasn't too loud in case of an emergency. He couldn't let his guard down, even if Frank was caught and done for. The perpetrator proved that it was easy to find his place, and he had reawakened a lot of loose ends during the investigation, he didn't want to risk it.
"..that opener was a bit stiff.."
Maybe he was right. Kim did get inspiration from the people he'd interrogated before. Statements like that were the regular. Caveman-like, he'd say. Full of excuses and self pity for a crime that was no one's fault but theirs.
—She just couldn't listen.
—Of course I was mad.
—He forced my hand.
—It was between him or me.
He cringed at the scene replaying in his head, almost knocking over the shampoos that littered the corner niche. Yeah, Patrick was definitely right. It didn't sound like him at all, at least to the people that knew him so well. He was angry, sure, but he'd never resort to neanderthal excuses to express it. No one made him do anything, he just did. And if it required a little tango with CBI protocol, so be it. The spray of water served as white noise, encouraging his thoughts to roam free, despite him being somewhat aware of this bad habit. He pondered for a few minutes before getting out of the shower. He got back to Elise's lying form, gazing at her again, his eyes diverting between the couch and the nasty bruise on her cheek. He was conflicted, but he leaned in anyway, kissing that spot just above her bruise. It was a promise. He would be home very soon, but he had some unfinished business to take care of.
That cathartic hug felt like closure. Mrs. Seung truly was a woman of her word, and Cho couldn't believe how stubborn he'd been. She was too good to hold a grudge against him, still seeing the 15 year old boy that was caught up in something he couldn't fully understand. He couldn't bring his friend back, he knew that, but it still hurt. Hurt to know that a good man lost his life due to Cho's unresolved demons. The woman assured him multiple times that he was not to blame, her son happened to get the short end of the stick. He made some peace with Seung's death. He'd unpack his insecurities and doubts later, now, he was just grateful to be there. Alive. Walking to his car with no worries. Being able to feel the light midnight breeze. Being able to—
Someone was in the car.
On the one night he decided against bringing his badge or gun with him. On the one night he let his shoulders slump.
He acted oblivious so he could reach the off-duty one he had under the seat. As soon as he turned on the car lights, he pointed the gun at the now illuminated figure.
—Woah, easy! I'm unarmed.
To say that Cho wanted to strangle him would be an understatement. Now he fully understands why Lisbon keeps a bottle in her desk drawer.
"Stalking is a felony," he said bluntly as he lowered the gun slowly, unloading it.
"Shooting a consultant of the CBI would be a choice. And another felony," Jane grinned, teasingly putting his hands down. He looked at Cho for a bit — trying to see that facade fade. A slip of anger. Anything. But he got nothing, so he backed down. "How did it go?"
The consultant already deducted everything, there was no point in trying to shoo him away this late. He stuck to short answers, it was easier to hide the slight weakness in his voice. "Good. She's doing well."
"No need to deny it, you shed a tear. Quite a few, actually. It's all in the voice, I didn't even need to look at you," he stated proudly, but he swallowed any pride he had from reading the agent.
"Get to the point," Cho cleared his throat, crossing his arms. He didn't know what Jane was exactly aiming for here, but he knew that the man had been scheming this whole time.
Jane took that gesture as a sign to stop with this overwhelming urge to poke and prod. Cho was a weird case. He wouldn't blow up after a while, instead he would go completely silent. And that was way worse for Jane than any punch. He wouldn't be able to do what he set out to accomplish past that point. "Would you have shot Frank if you had the chance?"
Ironic, since that question was like handing him a loaded gun. Cho was unnerved for the first time in a while. Would he? No, he wouldn't. He did humor Jane on his side quests, he did bend rules occasionally, and he did punch Frank after the admission, but shoot a suspect point blank? In front of witnesses? That was more than a death wish.
"It was bluff," he retorted firmly, slowly letting his arms relax. "you said so yourself."
"No, I was talking about the opening act. That was easy to pick apart. No offense, it felt robotic."
—None taken.
"Before you punched him, you threatened to shoot him."
—Bluff.
—No no, that's when you stopped concealing that anger. Desperation kicked in. It felt authentic, too good to be an act. You were angry the whole time, yes, but improv could only do so much after you heard the confession. Admit it, you lost your composure for once, Kimball Cho.
He gave a slight nod, sighing as he crossed his arms again. This time it was more of a getting comfortable stance.
"You don't like any of us messing with your personal life."
That didn't get a reaction, but Patrick didn't need one.
"It was kind of noble, actually. Losing your composure," he spoke, deep in thought. "even while facing the man who murdered your friend and beat your girlfriend, you never made it about yourself. He didn't make you do anything. You do care, more than you are willing to tell."
"Are we done with AP Psychology?"
"I'm just trying to congratulate your altruism," Patrick smiled again. There was always a deeper reason behind his odd questions, but Kim decided to shut down his curiosity.
"Even if you went down a more altruistic and lonely path today, I just needed to uh make sure you weren't going to blow the case."
Kimball chuckled to himself, this was one of the times that Patrick was obviously lying. A child could see it. The man probably wanted to discreetly return the favor of the agent accompanying him on every escapade throughout the years. Since he'd been popping up everywhere Kim went that day. Patrick was just too.... prideful to explicitly say that he was grateful. And the man didn't like being indebted to anyone, which was understandable.
"Ice man is still a horrid name though. Not just because you've gotten soft."
—Says the charlatan.
—Real clever.
He never answered, Jane had noticed; but words were futile on a night like this.