A/N: The internet's fading out where I am, so the updates will be irregular, but still daily. Thanks for your patience!
The capital city was impressive. For a city that had been the site of a major battle in a revolution few buildings were damaged. Those that had been were being repaired by work crews. Moira wondered if the fast pace of the reconstruction efforts had anything to do with the dark circles under Charles' eyes. She figured it did.
She was going to have to have a word with Levine about shoving his foot in his mouth. Neena had looked ready to kill him. She knew she shouldn't be too harsh on him; everything he'd known had changed. Unlike her he hadn't been prepared to accept such things. However, he was going to put things in jeopardy. Thus far he had kept his mouth shut after the question, and she hoped he would continue to do so.
The car stopped outside of a large building with ivory walls and golden rails. It looked like it belonged in a 1920's movie, a hang-out for socialites and their rich friends. Moira remembered vaguely that Genosha had never been settled until Eastern European settlers had colonized it. The few reports they'd had about it before the revolution were that it was a prime vacation spot for visiting Soviet party members.
It was a tourist town and it was beautiful. The lobby was spacious and she saw several rooms that looked like lounges and possibly a library. All was not as luxurious as it seemed though. Upon coming in though she could see a space where a large chandelier had probably hung. Other areas had been stripped of ornamentation. Moira made a mental note that this was probably indicative of their financial status. It was one more thing to bring to the table when they did the actual deliberations.
They took the stairs, probably because the elevators were broken. Levine remained mercifully silent, although he was obviously uncomfortable. His eyes kept darting around the room. She continued to keep up the conversation between herself and Charles, who was obviously a bit of a history enthusiast. Whatever else he'd been before the revolution, it was apparent that he'd been educated.
"It's huge," said Moira, "Is it still a hotel?"
"Not at the moment," Charles said, "It's being refurbished, but it's been confiscated for our little meeting because of its secure location. We're the only guests here currently."
He cocked his head, letting his hand trail along the stair rail.
"This place was actually built for a King's daughter's birthday party about, oh, eighty years ago," Charles said, "It was her brother that was dethroned a few months ago. I believe she lives in England now. Married some Earl or some such."
"Really?" asked Moira, "They just randomly constructed hotels for parties?"
Charles gave a thin-lipped smile.
"The royalty here have a history of poor spending choices. It's something Magnus hopes to correct," Charles said, "And I suppose it's not that surprising. We're not in America anymore Agent MacTaggert."
His smile took on a more genuine hue.
"Coincidentally I was wondering if you knew how the Giants were doing? We don't really get much sports news over here, and I am curious."
"They're not doing bad," Moira said, filing that information away, "But I hear rumors that they're going to be moving to San Francisco."
Charles fixed her with a shocked look.
"Now that," he said, "is just downright silly. You're not taking advantage of my ignorance are you?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," Moira laughed.
Logan looked over his shoulder and furrowed his brow. Moira returned the look evenly, wondering just what he was thinking. She was saved from going down that avenue when Neena opened a door. The room inside was spacious with two twin beds in it. She put their luggage inside and handed Moira the key, not saying a word.
"If you would feel more comfortable with separate rooms we can arrange that too," Charles said.
"No, this is good," Levine said, perhaps a touch too quickly.
Charles smiled and nodded. He looked at his watch and jerked his head downwards.
"I should be back to collect you in about two hours," he said, "And then we can do dinner and perhaps some politics. If you need anything we do have some guards milling about for the occasion and I'm staying a hallway down."
"Thank you," Moira said.
Charles gave a polite nod and closed the door. Once his footsteps had died away Levine stepped up and did up the locks on the door. Moira sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed.
"If they wanted to break down the door," she said, "then I don't think those locks are going to deter them."
"That's not the point," Levine snapped.
He ran a hand through his hair before sitting on his own bed, facing her.
"How can you be so calm about all of this?" he said, "We have a nation of super-powered-being walking around like, like-"
"-like they're normal?" asked Moira, irritated.
Levine shook his head.
"That's not what I meant," he said, "This whole situation is screwed-up."
"It's certainly not your average secret talk, I'll agree," Moira said, "But they can tell that you're afraid of them. That's the last thing we want to show."
"And you go around acting like there's nothing at all to be afraid of!" Levine said, his tone accusatory.
Moira hesitated. She liked and trusted Levine. It might not be the time to tell him Rahne and Kayla. He looked as though he were about to burst with the information that he already had. So she thought for a minute, turning over her response in her head a few times.
"Look, Levine," she said, "I know that this is strange for you. And I'll admit, it is a little scary to think that any of those people we just talked to could kill us within seconds. But the same principle applies to most of the people we hang out with on a daily basis."
"They don't kill you with claws," muttered Levine, "And they certainly don't read you mind. What if we knew state secrets?"
"Well, we don't," Moira said, "We know what we need to do our jobs and that's it. But here's the thing. If they wanted to read our minds and get it over with, they already would have. Instead they want to talk it out. They want to show that they're just people like everyone else. And they are. The only one who seemed nervous or uncivil was you."
Groaning Levine flopped back on his bed.
"I know it was stupid but it just came out!"
She rubbed her temples.
"Okay, okay," she said, "But now you have to work on repairing the damage you did. And that means acting like you understand, like you're not afraid. If you have to have little freak-out sessions then do them in private."
Levine nodded, looking miserable. Moira sighed.
"You're a good agent," she said, "And there's no one else I'd have rather done this with. But…we need to be careful, alright? These people could be our friends."
"I know but...how can you be so calm about all of this?" he demanded.
She hesitated again and then sighed.
"Levine, Rahne's a mutant," she said.
He blinked at her, his eyes wide.
"What?" he stammered.
"You heard me," Moira said, "I know I should have mentioned it earlier but...well..."
She trailed off. He nodded and swallowed.
"I don't mean to sound like a jerk," he said, "But…I think I need some time alone. Just a few minutes."
Moira hesitated, but she knew it was the least she could do.
"It's okay," she said, "I think I saw a library on the way in. I'll be there, and I'll make sure to come back up before we do dinner."
"Thanks Moira," Levine said, "I'd still be in the typing pool without you."
"Me too," said Moira.
She got up and closed the door behind her. Straightening her jacket she walked downstairs. There was someone at the counter who gave her a cursory look. Moira glanced over her, noting the girl's indigo skin and flaming hair. Yellow eyes that reminded her painfully of Rahne watched her as she walked into the next room.
The library was well-stocked, although few of the titles were in English. She settled for on in Russian before taking a seat. It was a familiar title, which was good since she didn't feel like involving herself too deeply into something. Moira flipped through a few pages tiredly before she heard the door open.
"Ah, fancy seeing you here."
She looked up and saw Charles walk in. Moira closed the book and cocked her head.
"Are you following me?" she asked.
"Perish the thought," Charles said, sitting down.
Moira waited for his bodyguards to come into the room. When they didn't she said;
"No Neena and Logan?"
"I can protect myself if the books start to attack me," Charles grinned, "or anything else for that matter. Magnus seems to be under the impression that a strong wind will blow me down, despite knowing better."
It was honest enough and she had no doubt it was true. He had helped to lead the revolution, not stood on the sidelines and watched with a vague interest. Besides, Moira could imagine how his particular power would be handy in combative situations. She gestured around her at the library.
"This room doesn't seem to have undergone the renovations the others have," she said, "Why is that?"
He gave a sad smile.
"It's the closest thing to a public library that Genosha has, unfortunately," he said, "We're going to start a project to investigate a few of the private collections in the country estates. Together I think we could make a few decent libraries."
Charles hesitated before continuing.
"Those in power didn't believe that anyone who didn't make several hundred thousand dollars a year deserved an education," he said, "I was hoping to install an education system. There are, of course, more pressing concerns at the moment. But making schools are vital to improving the country."
She set her book on the side table and folded her hands.
"I'm sure you agree about the value of education," he said, "If I'm not mistaken I'm talking to a college graduate."
"I have my associate's degree," said Moira, "But I understand what you mean. My friend's a school teacher. She complains about what we have back in the states, and we've been trying to perfect it for hundreds of years. I can see how it would be difficult in a country that's just starting out."
"Your friend sounds smart."
Moira smiled, thinking of Kayla and what she'd think about creating schools in Genosha. Kayla hadn't been a teacher in years, trying to keep her identity hidden. She'd focused on revenge, gaining it when, by her own admission, she had confronted and, in the ensuing struggle, killed her father. There wasn't much else to talk about after she revealed that.
The man in front of her was speaking frankly, and she didn't mind. She'd thought more Genoshans would be close-lipped. As an agent she knew that she shouldn't be too trusting of him. There was something inside of her that wanted to trust him though, that saw him as something other than a diplomat. She pushed it down.
"There is also a need," Charles continued, "to teach the younger generation how to control their mutations. Several of the older mutants have learned control through adversity, but have no wish to pass those tactics onto the next generation."
She nodded. Charles fell silent and folded his hands. He gave her a frank look, hesitating slightly again before continuing.
"We're a country that's in its infancy right now," he said, "Few of our people trust other governments and I don't blame them for it. They have their reasons. But right now we're at a crossroad. I know for a fact that several countries will panic when they hear of a country almost entirely populated by mutants."
"But you let us contact you," said Moira.
"You were the first who reached out," Charles shrugged, "we assumed that you knew what was happening or, even if you didn't, we might be able to talk in a rational manner. We figured that not everyone would act like Agent Levine."
Moira crossed her arms and tilted her chin defiantly.
"You don't know him. He's unfamiliar with this sort of thing; he's disoriented."
"You misunderstand me. His reaction was natural," said Charles, "and I don't blame him for it. I believe, in time, he will get over it."
Tilting his head Charles gave a lopsided grin.
"And the reveal of our abilities was rather dramatic, wasn't it?"
"You probably could have softened it up a bit," Moira said.
He laughed.
"Probably," he said, "but what gives me hope wasn't his reaction. It was yours."
Charles gave her an even, friendly look and Moira returned it.
"Somewhere between fight and flight there's something called using your head," said Charles, "And I'm glad to see that someone does."
Moira thought back to the night when she had first seen Rahne, had evaluated the situation and deemed that she wasn't dealing with an animal.
"Well, thank you for the compliment," said Moira.
"Oh, the pleasure is all mine," Charles said, "Truly."