Angelo and Gideon; Angelo and Nathan

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Angelo attends a conference that Gideon is also at, and they have a surprisingly pleasant conversation.



"-so I'm unsure as to precisely how we can best address this issue." The woman speaking was thin and tired-looking, sporting a deep tan from the African sun and wearing a business suit five years out of date and somewhat rumpled. She was clearly ill-at-ease in a room full of those who worked from desks, rather than out in the field. "Apart from a public appeal for funding, which may or may not work... this isn't a high-priority area in the minds of most."

There was some murmuring, in response, a few nods. The meeting was a smallish one, twenty people or so, all of whom were representatives from NGOs working in Western Africa. Most worked out of New York, although there were a few European representatives here for the meeting. A few of the attendees had noticed the young man sitting towards the back of the room and wondered who he was, but as he was wearing a security badge and taking notes diligently, they had left him to his own devices.

"We need to consider spending some money to publicize the situation, then," a man from the far side of the room spoke up.

The woman shook her head. "If it's coming out of my budget, no. I don't have enough money to keep all of my feeding centres going."

"Ms. Kelly, no one was suggesting that..."

"Just being clear."

Angelo was paying attention to everyone speaking, but this sounded even more interesting. If there was going to be advertising of the problem, it might make his and Nathan's job easier.

"Now, Ms. Kelly," chided someone from the other side of the room, invisible behind a large man with overly poofy hair, "no one was suggesting anything of the sort. Of course, the funding for public relations shouldn't come out of your operating budget. You're doing wonders with the limited resources you have, and the last thing any of us want to do is make your job more difficult."

Ms. Kelly hesitated, then cracked a tired little smile. "Thank you, Mr. Faraday."

....Faraday. But then, the surname itself wasn't that rare. There was still a possibility it was someone else altogether... even if it was a small one.

"I believe in recognizing ability and committment, Ms. Kelly, whenever possible." A hand gestured towards the podium. "May I..? I may have some useful suggestions."

"Oh, of course," she said, then smiled again, somewhat more naturally, as she stepped back to her seat at the table. "I could use a break, in any case."

Gideon stood up smoothly and headed to the podium, tugging gently at his tie. "This works out very well, then," he said with a broad smile. "As we all know, I have no problems whatsoever with being the center of attention." A ripple of laughter went through the room.

Angelo was suddenly very glad he was at the back of the room, and hunched over his notes in an effort not to be noticed. He was, however, paying very close attention to everything Gideon had to say.

"Creativity is the key, here," Gideon said briskly. "An appeal for public funding will work, however little the Western world knows about the situation in Mauritania and the Western Sahara. We simply have to know who to ask."

"A targetted appeal, then?"

"Precisely. And an awareness of what issues to highlight to whom. There are groups who will consider it significant that visible mutants are being turned away from the feeding centres when local staff are not being sufficiently supervised-" Ms. Kelly opened her mouth and Gideon shook his head gently at her. "No offense intended. I realize your manpower is stretched as far as your funding, and truthfully, it's local custom and prejudice that's causing this particular problem."

...what was he getting at? It sounded harmless, just suggesting education for the staff of the feeding centres, but if this was Gideon Faraday...

"Of course," Ms. Kelly said, relaxing slightly. "And you're right. There are... sources of funding who will care about that, and sources who wouldn't."

"It's only one example, of course," Gideon said, "although possibly a good one. Discrimination directed at visible mutants is fundamentally, for our purposes at least, no different than local staff of Hassani ethnic origin refusing to assist the Bambara."

"But it will be seen differently, by the people we're asking for assistance," Ms. Kelly said with a slow nod. "Yes. I'm seeing your point."

...they had a point, in what was actually being said, at least. But Angelo was still having difficulty believing Gideon didn't have his own agenda.

Gideon went on for the next fifteen minutes, outlining what seemed like a brilliant plan of attack, targeting specific interest groups with carefully shaped appeals likely to provoke both sympathy and action. By the time he was done, there was funding being volunteered by the other representatives in the room, and Ms. Kelly, rather than looking tired, was looking a little closer to radiant by the time she announced the coffee break.

Everyone moved rather quickly - it had been a long morning thus far - to the back of the room, where the coffee cart was set up, along with a few trays of pastries. They wound up blocking the doors, and preventing Angelo from making a quick escape. That was, possibly, why Gideon managed to get through the crowd, even while stopping from time to time to accept compliments on his presentation, and to Angelo's side so successfully.

"Why, Mr. Espinosa," he said pleasantly. "What a pleasure to see you here."

It took all the months of diplomatic training he'd had working for Nathan to stop Angelo choking on his coffee, and to return the polite smile. "Mr. Faraday. It's a matter of interest for us, as I'm sure you know."

"Yes, I am constantly surprised by the attention to detail you and your colleagues display, for those so new to the scene. Although," Gideon said with a slight smile, "I suppose we can hardly class Charles Xavier as new to the scene, can we? And I am quite aware of how much he's faciliated your work."

"He's been a lot of help", Angelo agreed pleasantly. "And we do our best."

Gideon tilted his head slightly. "You know, it's rather a pity we haven't met prior to this," he said. "I suppose we nearly did, in Kashmir..."

"Yes. If I'd come down a little sooner... but we were almost bound to run into each other sooner or later."

"I suppose so," Gideon said, sipping at his coffee. "So. Angelo. What did you think of my proposal?"

"It seems like exactly what's needed", Angelo was forced to admit. "More education in that area can't go amiss."

"A little knowledge is so often the answer to a larger problem," Gideon said candidly. "Understanding why things are the way they are, why we've found ourselves in a given situation..."

Angelo nodded, hiding his unease. "It's the only way to get yourself out of the situation, sometimes."

Gideon favored him with an approving smile. "You seem like a bright young man, Angelo. It's always good to see the young becoming more aware of what's going on in their society, and trying to make a contribution. Speaks very well for what you'll do with the rest of your life."

"I do what I can. Paying back some of what Professor Xavier and Nathan gave me." It was the truth, non-committal as it might sound.

"Still. It's good to see." Gideon peered down at Angelo for a moment, the slight smile coming back. "Really, you don't need to be so... nervous around me, Angelo. We're both here for the same reasons, after all."

And there it was, sort of out in the open. "Sorry. But I think, maybe, you can understand why I might be."

"Ah, yes. My nephew's poor opinion of me." Gideon was still smiling. "Tell me, Angelo, would someone like that be interested in the well-being of starving African children?"

"Well... he might be interested in making sure mutant children are given more chances to survive."

"And is that a bad thing?" Gideon asked very calmly. "When they're facing discrimination by the very people who are supposed to be helping them survive?"

"...no", he admitted. "But that doesn't mean it's all you're doing."

The smile grew. "This isn't the place for paranoia, Mr. Espinosa," Gideon said. "This is the place for providing solutions. Providing hope. Do trying to keep that in mind?"

"Oh, Mr. Faraday!" Ms. Kelly had worked her way through the crowd. "I just wanted to thank you-" She gave Angelo a look and a quizzical smile.

He smiled back, politely, and offered a hand. "Angelo Espinosa, Ms. ...Kelly. Mr. Faraday and I were just talking about our common ground."

She shook his hand. "Good to meet you. Who are you with, Mr. Espinosa?"

"Mr. Espinosa is part of a new advocacy group specifically interested in mutant issues in the Third World. I'm sure there are some questions he'd like to ask you, Ms. Kelly," Gideon said smoothly, then looked at his Blackberry. "Unfortunately, I have another meeting I need to be getting to."

"Oh... well, thank you very much for attending, and for your suggestions, Mr. Faraday," she said and immediately shook his hand. "They've been very valuable."

"My pleasure, entirely." He looked down at Angelo, smiling again. "Give my regards to Nathan, Angelo?"

Angelo nodded, still smiling politely. "I'll tell him what you had to say."

"Yes, do. I've noticed that he's occasionally more receptive when it's not coming from me." Gideon gave Ms. Kelly's shoulder a pat as she frowned a little at the conversation. "Family matters, Ms. Kelly. Best of luck with your work."

Following the meeting, he returns to the mansion and reports to Nathan, with confusion from them both and alarm from Nathan.



Angelo wandered into the office, carrying the sheaf of notes he'd taken at the meeting and paying more attention to them than to where he was going. Fortunately, he knew the layout of the office well enough that he didn't need to.

Nathan looked up from his desk, frowning immediately as he got a sense of Angelo's thoughts. "You are... what happened? Something you didn't expect." He looked all right, at least.

Angelo glanced up, not quite startled but almost. "...hey, Nathan. Yeah, uh... guess who was at the conference?"

Nathan's eyes widened. "Let me guess," he said somewhat tensely. "My uncle."

"Yep. Arguin' in favour of fundin' more education, so the people at the food stations won't send visible mutants away without givin' them anythin'."

Nathan blinked, his attention turning inwards as he reviewed everything they knew about the matter in question. "... uh-huh." His eyes refocused, right on Angelo. "You're sure you're all right?" he asked. "He didn't do anything to you?"

"Didn't touch me. Not physically or psionically, that I could feel. I think he was tryin' to talk me round."

"Talk you around," Nathan said somewhat disbelievingly, waving Angelo to a chair. "How?"

"He was just... bein' reasonable. Tryin' to make himself look like the good guy, I think. He said somethin' about your poor opinion of him, an' 'would someone concerned for starvin' children be like that?'."

Nathan snorted, loudly. Contemptuously. It was a good way to cover the sense that they'd dodged a bullet, and the growing panic at the idea of Gideon being aware of and possibly interested in Angelo. "If he's looking for me to amend my opinion of him, he's going to be disappointed."

"I figure he knows that. I think it was my opinion he was hopin' to change."

Nathan gave him a long look. "Did he?" he asked, a little less forcefully.

"No", Angelo answered instantly. "Just not doin' only bad stuff doesn't make a difference. Not when it's him."

Nathan relaxed back into the chair a little, the semi-baleful look fading. "Oh, good. Because if you weren't willing to regard him as the devil incarnate we'd probably be having some issues here." It was an attempt at a joke, if a weak one.

Angelo chuckled, faintly. "What he was sayin' today actually did sound good, though. If you don't know what all else he's done."

Nathan shook his head a little. "Hell, Angelo, there were times at Mistra when we did things that most people would consider good. Thoroughly violent and destructive, yes, but necessary for the greater good. That didn't make us any less brainwashed victims..."

"This wasn't even violent an' destructive, though. He was just talkin' people into fundin' publicity campaigns, like I said. Unless that's not what he's doin' with the money, but I don't think he was even who they were givin' it to."

Nathan made a face. "Okay," he muttered, "he's capable of doing good things, too. Maybe. Or of pretending really well. Are we going to let that stop us?"

"Did I say that's what I thought?" Angelo countered.

"No, but do we care, even if he is doing something good? Maybe he's trying to help mutant kids who are starving in Africa. He's also helping other people put mutant kids in Africa in military training camps."

"Exactly. Which is why we're not gonna let it stop us."

"Right." Nathan closed his eyes for a moment, telling himself to calm down. "Sorry. I know you and I are on the same page here, I just... are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm sure", Angelo said more quietly. "Like I said, he was tryin' to play the good guy. An' the room was full of people who knew his name."

Nathan stared down at the top of his desk for a long moment, then shook his head again. "Well," he said, more quietly, "why don't we file that away as interesting and go over your notes, then?"

Angelo nodded, putting them down on the table. "Sounds good to me."