Ruined Garden
They're right, perhaps, about the damnable Jean Grey - she's fire, dangerous, hot to touch, but fire is always the most /useful/ of mankind's tools, even if it also the most destructive. Still, the better course of valor, here - though wouldn't it be nice if we could pin things on her when they go wrong?
As for the rest, well, Bahir is proving himself more than capable, and Percy is proving himself sullen and withdrawn. He did well in Washington, though - and I sensed some sort of tension. Personal problems between Talhurst and al-Razi?
I can't really have that. I need to keep my telepath happy. I need to send someone to snoop around.
The Black King walks quietly through the ruins of the conservatory, his hands clasped behind him. His bishop is off his left shoulder, and he's going on about some business involved with the construction. "See if you can make sure it's Alessandro Construction who gets the work," he says. "Julio's uncle is a Club member - been friendly with me since Buckman was king - and I'd rather it be someone we knew than someone she does..." Bahir (unbeknownst to Percy) has also been summoned, though Percy was asked to arrive first to inspect the tangle of the south wing.
His bishop, crisply suited in grey and blue, trailing in his wake like a sleek (if subdued) tugboat without any sign to emotional what-have-you nor the way he spent the weekend. Percy is fresh as a daisy. Also gay as one. It's a daisyish sort of evening. "I think that's not too difficult, as juggling goes," he says mildly.
Shaw shakes his head. "No," he murmurs. "I wouldn't think so. I doubt Emma even has anyone she particularly wants to do the job, but I thought that if matters need to be smoothed over, you can handle it." He chuckles. "I wagered old Alessio - the uncle - on cards the other night; have to pay my dues." A tiny frown. "Where the hell is your boyfriend, Percy?"
Here: Bahir enters, wrapped in a sullen temper. The cloud that clings to his skin is tangible to Percy's senses, layered and dark -- although close-kept in slowly stirring air. Dark eyes seek Shaw across the span of the room, gaze edged by cranky telepathy to a sharp glare. "Shaw."
"Invisible," Percy mutters. He stands quite still, irritation shading to anger twitching his set expression. Thin shields, flimsy worthless things Bahir himself taught him, slide up over his thoughts, though he's surely readable enough despite them, dark humor leaking clear enough for an empath's read. His arms lift to fold over his chest, his shoulders taut.
"There," the Black King murmurs. "Bahir." He smiles. "I received word that you've found another blackguard for us?" A significant glance to Percy. "Percy, have you been keeping in the loop with Bahir's catches?"
Bahir slides to a pause next to Shaw, his attention tipped up to his King. "Which one?" he asks, a bland and neutral sort of humor tingeing his voice. "There are three more I am considering, in addition to the first, and one that I need a job for: I need a job somewhere in the Westchester area, preferably, in a nursery or a greenhouse of some sort."
Percy shows his teeth, smile unpleasant. "No," he says, his voice extremely flat. "I haven't."
"I'll dig out a card somewhere," Shaw murmurs. "Man name of Mike - the property manager at a club I belong to up there. I'm sure they have a nursey on-site, to keep up the grounds. Will that work?" He turns to look at Percy over one of his shoulders, and then asks the Bishop directly: "Why not?"
Murmuring soft agreement, Bahir says, "Certainly. Get me the card tonight, that I might call her tomorrow." He does not, quite, boss the boss.
Percy turns a look on Shaw that is as blank as an empty page. "No idea." Flat and more flat. "Some kind of oversight, I'm certain."
Shaw stops walking - he turns, looking between Bahir and Percy with his brows raised. Hands unclasp from behind his back - instead, they hang loosely at his side, meatily open but just as easily clenched into fists. A mixture of pique and curiousity echoes a little bit off of his mind. "Well," he remarks. "Percy, have you gone to Bahir?" Then a glance at Bahir. "Bahir, have you gone to Percy?"
Bahir's voice is even, a queer smile curling his lips as he tips his head up to Shaw. Dark eyes glitter with a certain darkling humor. "Percy knows of Temperance, but Megan, and not Jackson, and Nisa. Those are recent developments, Shaw, of the past day or so. Temperance is the only one I would call ours for certain, although he is out of the city at the moment. Funeral. Unfortunate."
"Tell me about all of them," Shaw murmurs. "And, really - don't you two see each other -" <> "- regularly?" he asks, shaking his head. "This Temperance, he's the one we got the job at the club for? Why are we sure of him - the job?" A pause. "How about the others?"
"I was unaware that I was meant to be monitoring him at all times," Percy murmurs, serpentine soft. "Perhaps Ms. Harper can supply me with some surveillance equipment."
Bahir answers those questions that deserve answering, rolling his eyes at the rest. Please. /Please/. "I am sure of him. I've begun to develop a rapport with Jackson, but I think I will try a different strategy than I did with Temperance," he says, skipping lightly over the words and batting nary an eyelash at Percy. "Nisa is young, of Xavier's lot. She seems to find my brother attractive; the same with Megan. I don't know what to do with Megan, yet. I am considering it. Nisa, if we find her the job, there will be a debt of gratitude, at least."
Sharp words from Percy draw a sharp glance from Shaw, but the Black King's mind is at work digesting Bahir's explanation. "If we need to surreptitiously take something away from them," he murmurs, "only to give it back - we can do that." His brow furrows. "This Nisa is a high school student? And she wants to sleep with your brother?"
Percy snorts. "One of Xavier's," he says, otherwise blithely ignoring the matter of Adel's sex appeal. "Best be /careful/ there."
"She isn't the first. Or the second. Or even the third," Bahir says, exasperation threading through his voice. He smiles without humor. "In case you hadn't noticed, we have good genes. I'd prefer to keep her away from Adel, or vice versa, and merely use the leverage of gratitude and friendship." His voice goes flat and thin, hissing through a smile: "Less complications."
"I concur," Shaw says. "We're trying to create scandals with /other/ people and sixteen-year olds; while your brother isn't, perhaps, our friend, neither is he our enemy - and he's family, part of our thing here." A pause. "What can they all do?" he asks. "And, yes - I don't want a vengeful Jean Grey on me."
Bahir shakes his head minutely. "I have not yet had time to find out for all. Temperance, you already know about. Megan seems to have some sort of ability where she can feel the memories or emotions in an object. Nisa and Jackson -- I don't know. Jackson should be calling me soon, though, to arrange a-- meeting."
Shaw nods slowly. "Find out what you can," he says. "This Megan - like our Victoria?" he asks. "Have you had a chance to probe her more fully?" A glance at Percy. "We have a new Pawn," he says. The capital is evident in his tone. "I'm not sure if Bahir told you."
Percy cocks an eyebrow at Bahir and then slants a look back at Shaw, blandness overtaking him; he drops his arms from their fold over his chest to let his fingers lace loosely behind his back. "Victoria Deeds," he says. "Yes?"
Bahir spreads his hands. "Although I am a telepath, I don't know everything. I will find out more when I can, Shaw. I have not had a chance to meet with Ms. Deeds. Feel free to send her my way."
For some reason, Percy /snorts/.
"Yes," Shaw murmurs. "She's staying with Harper for the time being; easy enough to seek out - which reminds me... Percy, I'd like you to take a gauge of her, too. You've got good instincts for people." A wry smile. "Certainly," he says, "Bahir here is much more pleasant to be around than Adel." He turns, starts to walk again. "Back to Jean Grey. She drifted briefly into our sight again when Emma was shot - chance meetings, nothing more, but one with Emma, one with me, and one with Linden. That's too much coincidence."
Bahir eyes Shaw blankly. More pleasant? He trails after him, saying nothing.
"You think she's sniffing around the club again, our erstwhile Black Queen?" There might conceivably be something snide about the wide-eyed innocence with which he awards Jean reference to her old title. "It's not like we'll be drawing her back amongst our ranks anytime soon. What is the concern? If she were going to give our testicles to Homeland Security, she would have already done."
Shaw smiles. "The Black Queen's quarters are occupied," he remarks pointedly. "No, I think she was snooping around because of Lowe's foolishness - but I think that means she may be useful." A pause. "How often do you see her at the office, Bahir?" he asks. "I may want to get a message to her."
Bahir rubs at the arch of his eyebrow with the heel of his hand. "Uhm, often enough. Can't you just send her a p--letter?"
For all that he is trying not to look at Bahir, Percy's glance settles on him for a moment. He swallows, having quite lost the thread of whatever he was going to say, and says, "Uhm. Useful. I don't think trying to make /use/ of Jean Grey would be especially /smart/, Shaw."
"I'd like her to turn herself in for violating XID," Shaw says matter-of-factly. "I think we'd be well served if the test case before the court was Jean Grey - but that's hard to put in a letter, isn't it?" Percy's objection causes a sudden, unchecked rise of panic in Sebastian Shaw's mind, and there's a falter in his stride before he catches himself. "Desperate times, Percy," he says, voice a little less certain.
"I--" Bahir stops and stares at Shaw, the slight slackening of his jaw less than flattering. The light drift of inchoate longing off his skin is overrun by adrenaline-jarred surprise. "You are not asking me to /influence/ her to do so? To use my telepathy to make her turn herself in? Just -- write a fucking letter, Shaw, and I'll carry it. She knows I work for you. She's a telepath."
"I think we should continue with our /previous/ policy on Jean Grey, that being, we keep her as far away from us as /possible/. Surveillance is fine. Keeping an eye on her is fine. But she's not our /piece/." Percy raises his eyebrows, his chin lifting. "How many times do you plan on sticking your fingers in the same fire? It will burn you every time you do it."
"Lord, no!" Shaw says to Bahir's suggestion, and there's a note of real panic in his voice. "God almighty man, what are you thinking!" He spins around. "That's madness - it's dangerous enough, as Percy says, touching this fire at all, but I think it's best for us." His hands clench and unclench, and he takes a couple calming breaths as he tries to banish an unreasoning fear of Jean Grey from his mind. "I can write the letter, Bahir, but I don't want to be the one to speak to her about it - someone else needs to make the sell."
Bahir eyes Shaw sourly, and does not comment on the wisdom of the Black King's plans. "I will give the letter to her."
"If you do this, you're making a mistake." Percy bounces on the balls of his feet, shaking his head at him. "She's dangerous. Her agenda is dangerous. While we're leaving her alone, she'll leave us alone, but if she thinks we're coming after her, if she thinks we're trying to manipulate her -- you're putting /all/ of us at risk and I don't see that there's enough gain to be worth it. She has too much power, as a telepath, and she has too much information, which is to say, power over /us/."
Shaw turns to focus on Percy, now, and he flips over into comfortable, well-worn paths, his mind forming words to chastize him, fantasies of raising a hand to him - casual, unserious thoughts of violence - before he smiles and resolves to hear his bishop out. "Her agenda is the same as ours in this, is it not?" he asks. "And she's the most prominent mutant rights activist there is. She's outed as a mutant; it makes a lot of sense that she be the test case, and it is to our advantage that she knows we are involved." More breaths, the Black King fighting to stay in control from buffeting impulses. "Otherwise, our paths /will/ cross, if we're working against the same target - I want our paths to cross on our terms, Percy. Do you really think we can avoid her on this?"
Bahir inclines his head in Percy's direction, his eyes fixed on Shaw. There is more to casual regard in his gaze; telepath keeps a firm eye on Shaw's thoughts. "I agree with your Bishop in this, Shaw. I think we would be better served keeping away from her. She has no lost love for our games. You would take a foolish risk. We gain nothing from her, or her notoriety. It is not to our advantage, not in the slightest. She broke you once. Don't turn her attention to you again." He smiles slightly, a bare, fractional curve. "Besides, it will make Emma cranky if she thinks you court Grey."
"She knows everything there is to know about the Inner Circle," Percy concurs coolly, his smile slithering over his lips and away again. "And she believes herself a guardian of truth and light. Do you really want to remind her of our power? Show her that we are still dangerous? Do you really want to draw her attention back behind our raggled curtains? For what /trifling/ advantage? Leave her be. Face the dragon when we /have/ to."
Shaw purses his lips. "Very well," he says quielty, nodding to them both. "There is perhaps another way we can gain the advantage I seek from her without involving her directly." He looks at Bahir, now. "Do you think you can find a Xavier's Student who can be convinced to serve as a test case?"
Lips parting on a sigh, Bahir frowns. "I only know a handful of students. I will have to speak with Adel to determine what, legally, would be required for a suitable candidate, and then find out if any of those I know fit the profile, and are malleable enough to work. I will see, Shaw."
"My knowledge of the American justice system is only," and Percy waggles his hand comme-ci comme-ca, "but aren't high school students a little, uhm, /young/?"
Shaw nods slowly. "Well," he says. "Make the inquiries. See what we can find - I want results," he says, shaking his head. "Idleness is the enemy of profit."
Conciliation mocks in Bahir's voice: "Of course, Shaw." He bows on a backward step, taking dismissal from tone and mind. He exits the conservatory.
Percy follows Bahir with a glance and makes to leave as well, tilting his head. "If that's all, then?"
Shaw nods slowly. "That is all," he says, going to stand before a slagged wall, his back to the pair. "Be well, both of you."
As for the rest, well, Bahir is proving himself more than capable, and Percy is proving himself sullen and withdrawn. He did well in Washington, though - and I sensed some sort of tension. Personal problems between Talhurst and al-Razi?
I can't really have that. I need to keep my telepath happy. I need to send someone to snoop around.
The Black King walks quietly through the ruins of the conservatory, his hands clasped behind him. His bishop is off his left shoulder, and he's going on about some business involved with the construction. "See if you can make sure it's Alessandro Construction who gets the work," he says. "Julio's uncle is a Club member - been friendly with me since Buckman was king - and I'd rather it be someone we knew than someone she does..." Bahir (unbeknownst to Percy) has also been summoned, though Percy was asked to arrive first to inspect the tangle of the south wing.
His bishop, crisply suited in grey and blue, trailing in his wake like a sleek (if subdued) tugboat without any sign to emotional what-have-you nor the way he spent the weekend. Percy is fresh as a daisy. Also gay as one. It's a daisyish sort of evening. "I think that's not too difficult, as juggling goes," he says mildly.
Shaw shakes his head. "No," he murmurs. "I wouldn't think so. I doubt Emma even has anyone she particularly wants to do the job, but I thought that if matters need to be smoothed over, you can handle it." He chuckles. "I wagered old Alessio - the uncle - on cards the other night; have to pay my dues." A tiny frown. "Where the hell is your boyfriend, Percy?"
Here: Bahir enters, wrapped in a sullen temper. The cloud that clings to his skin is tangible to Percy's senses, layered and dark -- although close-kept in slowly stirring air. Dark eyes seek Shaw across the span of the room, gaze edged by cranky telepathy to a sharp glare. "Shaw."
"Invisible," Percy mutters. He stands quite still, irritation shading to anger twitching his set expression. Thin shields, flimsy worthless things Bahir himself taught him, slide up over his thoughts, though he's surely readable enough despite them, dark humor leaking clear enough for an empath's read. His arms lift to fold over his chest, his shoulders taut.
"There," the Black King murmurs. "Bahir." He smiles. "I received word that you've found another blackguard for us?" A significant glance to Percy. "Percy, have you been keeping in the loop with Bahir's catches?"
Bahir slides to a pause next to Shaw, his attention tipped up to his King. "Which one?" he asks, a bland and neutral sort of humor tingeing his voice. "There are three more I am considering, in addition to the first, and one that I need a job for: I need a job somewhere in the Westchester area, preferably, in a nursery or a greenhouse of some sort."
Percy shows his teeth, smile unpleasant. "No," he says, his voice extremely flat. "I haven't."
"I'll dig out a card somewhere," Shaw murmurs. "Man name of Mike - the property manager at a club I belong to up there. I'm sure they have a nursey on-site, to keep up the grounds. Will that work?" He turns to look at Percy over one of his shoulders, and then asks the Bishop directly: "Why not?"
Murmuring soft agreement, Bahir says, "Certainly. Get me the card tonight, that I might call her tomorrow." He does not, quite, boss the boss.
Percy turns a look on Shaw that is as blank as an empty page. "No idea." Flat and more flat. "Some kind of oversight, I'm certain."
Shaw stops walking - he turns, looking between Bahir and Percy with his brows raised. Hands unclasp from behind his back - instead, they hang loosely at his side, meatily open but just as easily clenched into fists. A mixture of pique and curiousity echoes a little bit off of his mind. "Well," he remarks. "Percy, have you gone to Bahir?" Then a glance at Bahir. "Bahir, have you gone to Percy?"
Bahir's voice is even, a queer smile curling his lips as he tips his head up to Shaw. Dark eyes glitter with a certain darkling humor. "Percy knows of Temperance, but Megan, and not Jackson, and Nisa. Those are recent developments, Shaw, of the past day or so. Temperance is the only one I would call ours for certain, although he is out of the city at the moment. Funeral. Unfortunate."
"Tell me about all of them," Shaw murmurs. "And, really - don't you two see each other -" <> "- regularly?" he asks, shaking his head. "This Temperance, he's the one we got the job at the club for? Why are we sure of him - the job?" A pause. "How about the others?"
"I was unaware that I was meant to be monitoring him at all times," Percy murmurs, serpentine soft. "Perhaps Ms. Harper can supply me with some surveillance equipment."
Bahir answers those questions that deserve answering, rolling his eyes at the rest. Please. /Please/. "I am sure of him. I've begun to develop a rapport with Jackson, but I think I will try a different strategy than I did with Temperance," he says, skipping lightly over the words and batting nary an eyelash at Percy. "Nisa is young, of Xavier's lot. She seems to find my brother attractive; the same with Megan. I don't know what to do with Megan, yet. I am considering it. Nisa, if we find her the job, there will be a debt of gratitude, at least."
Sharp words from Percy draw a sharp glance from Shaw, but the Black King's mind is at work digesting Bahir's explanation. "If we need to surreptitiously take something away from them," he murmurs, "only to give it back - we can do that." His brow furrows. "This Nisa is a high school student? And she wants to sleep with your brother?"
Percy snorts. "One of Xavier's," he says, otherwise blithely ignoring the matter of Adel's sex appeal. "Best be /careful/ there."
"She isn't the first. Or the second. Or even the third," Bahir says, exasperation threading through his voice. He smiles without humor. "In case you hadn't noticed, we have good genes. I'd prefer to keep her away from Adel, or vice versa, and merely use the leverage of gratitude and friendship." His voice goes flat and thin, hissing through a smile: "Less complications."
"I concur," Shaw says. "We're trying to create scandals with /other/ people and sixteen-year olds; while your brother isn't, perhaps, our friend, neither is he our enemy - and he's family, part of our thing here." A pause. "What can they all do?" he asks. "And, yes - I don't want a vengeful Jean Grey on me."
Bahir shakes his head minutely. "I have not yet had time to find out for all. Temperance, you already know about. Megan seems to have some sort of ability where she can feel the memories or emotions in an object. Nisa and Jackson -- I don't know. Jackson should be calling me soon, though, to arrange a-- meeting."
Shaw nods slowly. "Find out what you can," he says. "This Megan - like our Victoria?" he asks. "Have you had a chance to probe her more fully?" A glance at Percy. "We have a new Pawn," he says. The capital is evident in his tone. "I'm not sure if Bahir told you."
Percy cocks an eyebrow at Bahir and then slants a look back at Shaw, blandness overtaking him; he drops his arms from their fold over his chest to let his fingers lace loosely behind his back. "Victoria Deeds," he says. "Yes?"
Bahir spreads his hands. "Although I am a telepath, I don't know everything. I will find out more when I can, Shaw. I have not had a chance to meet with Ms. Deeds. Feel free to send her my way."
For some reason, Percy /snorts/.
"Yes," Shaw murmurs. "She's staying with Harper for the time being; easy enough to seek out - which reminds me... Percy, I'd like you to take a gauge of her, too. You've got good instincts for people." A wry smile. "Certainly," he says, "Bahir here is much more pleasant to be around than Adel." He turns, starts to walk again. "Back to Jean Grey. She drifted briefly into our sight again when Emma was shot - chance meetings, nothing more, but one with Emma, one with me, and one with Linden. That's too much coincidence."
Bahir eyes Shaw blankly. More pleasant? He trails after him, saying nothing.
"You think she's sniffing around the club again, our erstwhile Black Queen?" There might conceivably be something snide about the wide-eyed innocence with which he awards Jean reference to her old title. "It's not like we'll be drawing her back amongst our ranks anytime soon. What is the concern? If she were going to give our testicles to Homeland Security, she would have already done."
Shaw smiles. "The Black Queen's quarters are occupied," he remarks pointedly. "No, I think she was snooping around because of Lowe's foolishness - but I think that means she may be useful." A pause. "How often do you see her at the office, Bahir?" he asks. "I may want to get a message to her."
Bahir rubs at the arch of his eyebrow with the heel of his hand. "Uhm, often enough. Can't you just send her a p--letter?"
For all that he is trying not to look at Bahir, Percy's glance settles on him for a moment. He swallows, having quite lost the thread of whatever he was going to say, and says, "Uhm. Useful. I don't think trying to make /use/ of Jean Grey would be especially /smart/, Shaw."
"I'd like her to turn herself in for violating XID," Shaw says matter-of-factly. "I think we'd be well served if the test case before the court was Jean Grey - but that's hard to put in a letter, isn't it?" Percy's objection causes a sudden, unchecked rise of panic in Sebastian Shaw's mind, and there's a falter in his stride before he catches himself. "Desperate times, Percy," he says, voice a little less certain.
"I--" Bahir stops and stares at Shaw, the slight slackening of his jaw less than flattering. The light drift of inchoate longing off his skin is overrun by adrenaline-jarred surprise. "You are not asking me to /influence/ her to do so? To use my telepathy to make her turn herself in? Just -- write a fucking letter, Shaw, and I'll carry it. She knows I work for you. She's a telepath."
"I think we should continue with our /previous/ policy on Jean Grey, that being, we keep her as far away from us as /possible/. Surveillance is fine. Keeping an eye on her is fine. But she's not our /piece/." Percy raises his eyebrows, his chin lifting. "How many times do you plan on sticking your fingers in the same fire? It will burn you every time you do it."
"Lord, no!" Shaw says to Bahir's suggestion, and there's a note of real panic in his voice. "God almighty man, what are you thinking!" He spins around. "That's madness - it's dangerous enough, as Percy says, touching this fire at all, but I think it's best for us." His hands clench and unclench, and he takes a couple calming breaths as he tries to banish an unreasoning fear of Jean Grey from his mind. "I can write the letter, Bahir, but I don't want to be the one to speak to her about it - someone else needs to make the sell."
Bahir eyes Shaw sourly, and does not comment on the wisdom of the Black King's plans. "I will give the letter to her."
"If you do this, you're making a mistake." Percy bounces on the balls of his feet, shaking his head at him. "She's dangerous. Her agenda is dangerous. While we're leaving her alone, she'll leave us alone, but if she thinks we're coming after her, if she thinks we're trying to manipulate her -- you're putting /all/ of us at risk and I don't see that there's enough gain to be worth it. She has too much power, as a telepath, and she has too much information, which is to say, power over /us/."
Shaw turns to focus on Percy, now, and he flips over into comfortable, well-worn paths, his mind forming words to chastize him, fantasies of raising a hand to him - casual, unserious thoughts of violence - before he smiles and resolves to hear his bishop out. "Her agenda is the same as ours in this, is it not?" he asks. "And she's the most prominent mutant rights activist there is. She's outed as a mutant; it makes a lot of sense that she be the test case, and it is to our advantage that she knows we are involved." More breaths, the Black King fighting to stay in control from buffeting impulses. "Otherwise, our paths /will/ cross, if we're working against the same target - I want our paths to cross on our terms, Percy. Do you really think we can avoid her on this?"
Bahir inclines his head in Percy's direction, his eyes fixed on Shaw. There is more to casual regard in his gaze; telepath keeps a firm eye on Shaw's thoughts. "I agree with your Bishop in this, Shaw. I think we would be better served keeping away from her. She has no lost love for our games. You would take a foolish risk. We gain nothing from her, or her notoriety. It is not to our advantage, not in the slightest. She broke you once. Don't turn her attention to you again." He smiles slightly, a bare, fractional curve. "Besides, it will make Emma cranky if she thinks you court Grey."
"She knows everything there is to know about the Inner Circle," Percy concurs coolly, his smile slithering over his lips and away again. "And she believes herself a guardian of truth and light. Do you really want to remind her of our power? Show her that we are still dangerous? Do you really want to draw her attention back behind our raggled curtains? For what /trifling/ advantage? Leave her be. Face the dragon when we /have/ to."
Shaw purses his lips. "Very well," he says quielty, nodding to them both. "There is perhaps another way we can gain the advantage I seek from her without involving her directly." He looks at Bahir, now. "Do you think you can find a Xavier's Student who can be convinced to serve as a test case?"
Lips parting on a sigh, Bahir frowns. "I only know a handful of students. I will have to speak with Adel to determine what, legally, would be required for a suitable candidate, and then find out if any of those I know fit the profile, and are malleable enough to work. I will see, Shaw."
"My knowledge of the American justice system is only," and Percy waggles his hand comme-ci comme-ca, "but aren't high school students a little, uhm, /young/?"
Shaw nods slowly. "Well," he says. "Make the inquiries. See what we can find - I want results," he says, shaking his head. "Idleness is the enemy of profit."
Conciliation mocks in Bahir's voice: "Of course, Shaw." He bows on a backward step, taking dismissal from tone and mind. He exits the conservatory.
Percy follows Bahir with a glance and makes to leave as well, tilting his head. "If that's all, then?"
Shaw nods slowly. "That is all," he says, going to stand before a slagged wall, his back to the pair. "Be well, both of you."