Chang Lee stepped back into San Fransisco's Chinatown for the first time in more than a year. He breathed in a gust of the cold December air, not really feeling the cold or seeing the snow pattering down all around him. His mind was lost in the memories this place conjured up; first of his relatively happy childhood, then of the shattering of his family and home, and of taking up with the gangs ... and of course, of the night that had changed his life -- December 31, 1999. The night that would have been the last one of his life, if not for the Doctor.
He clutched absently at the object in his jacket pocket, and retraced a very familiar path through the streets. A path that led him to a restuarant; the same one the First Doctor and Grace had dined at, the same one Sam and Fitz had watched the grey men from. Taking another deep breath, he opened the door and stepped in.
The middle-aged woman behind the counter looked up, then, seeing who he was, gasped in surprise and delight. "Chang Lee!" she cried, and rushed over and hugged him.
"Mrs. Tsung," he replied, returning her embrace, smiling. She had been like a second mother to him when he had been out on the streets, and a strong supporter when he joined the SFPD.
"It's been so long," she said. "I thought you left the Police for some kind of Government job."
"Some kind," he agreed. "And I have to get back to it quick. But before I do, I want to give you something."
Mrs. Tsung waved this away. "You don't have to give me anything, Lee, you know that."
"But I want to," he replied earnestly. "You're the closest thing I have to a mother now, you know that."
She blushed and looked downward. "Yes, I know, but I doubt the Feds are paying you wads of cash."
"UN, actually, not the Feds. And no, they're not paying me much. But now that I have this job, I can give you what's left of my old nest egg. A friend gave it to me, and he helped me a lot, like you did. It's only fitting now that I give it to you." He pulled the object out of his jacket pocket, thrust it into her hands, kissed her on the forehead, and bolted out the door.
Mrs. Tsung blinked, then looked down. In her cupped hands was a small red bag, made of some silk-like fabric. It was tied with a drawstring at the top. She undid it carefully, and looked inside. When she saw what Lee had given her, she gasped and almost dropped it.
The bag was half full of gold dust.
END