Every Confidence


mohinder_icon.gif rami_icon.gif

Scene Title Every Confidence
Synopsis Rami and Mohinder cross paths in the Company breakroom, late at night. Tea and something resembling an pep talk happens.
Date November 25, 2008

Primatech Research

Rami is a night owl. He's often one of the last to leave. It's not simple dedication to his duty, it's a -love- of his work. But even one as dedicated as he must take a tea break now and again, like a proper Brit - Arab blood or no. He hums an aimless tube as he waits for the kettle to boil and rinses out a ceramic teapot. Someone left old coffee on too long. Once the teapot is rinsed, he frowns at it, makes a tut-tut sound, then goes about cleaning that out too.

Mohinder thinks he's the only one up. Where he was working out of before, he would've been. He sends his assistants home long before himself - he is considerate and thoughtful that way. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Now here he is, back in America. It's almost too much for him to handle - the abrupt change of lifestyle, culture, everything. He's been out of all of twice since he's been back in New York and that's been by choice. He could go out pretty much whenever he wanted to, but he doesn't. For him, this isn't about love of work or duty. All of this..he feels..is his life now and he has given himself over to it as a willing sacrifice. However, fatigue means that it's late and a spot of tea would do him good. So in he walks into the break room and is surprised to find someone else there. "Oh.." he says, almost apologetically, "..I thought I was the only one awake." he says, his voice rich with that accent, "I could come back later, if you'd like some privacy?"

"Oh. Doctor Suresh. Good evening. I was just making some tea. Would you care to join me?" Rami turns the coffee carafe up into the dry rack, then wipes his hands off. "No hour is a strange hour around here it seems. My apartment is cool and quiet. I prefer the sound, or at least the spectres of activity."

Mohinder smiles, "Oh please, call me Mohinder." he says gently, "And yes, yes I would." he takes off his glasses and places them into the pocket of his shirt after folding them up. He's still wearing his lab coat, the way a knight would wear a surcoat in medieval times. "I am re-learning that. It's been quite sometime since I've been here, Agent Hollingwood. How are you this evening?"

"Mohinder," he says the man's name like he knows the tongue of its orgin. Which…is true. "Call me Rami, then." He rolls the 'r'. "Oh. I'm well as can be expected. All this business with the terrorists." He tuts. "Did you hear they killed children? Terror becomes indiscriminate as time goes on. I've seen it again and again." He pulls down two mugs and checks them for cleaniliness. Apparently he isn't satisfied with their state because he gives them a quick rinse under hot water.

Mohinder looks horrified at the news, "No.." he says, eyes wide in shock. "..they resorted to that?" he sounds hurt. "Did they even give a reason for this atrocity, or will they just let it sit out there to horrify us?" he pauses a beat, "Probably the latter, I should guess." and it only reinforces how much harder he has to work to stop this. He remembers how Peter's shoulders sagged when they last spoke, and unconscious that his are now doing that same thing. He takes a seat and watches the agent, and is thankful for the tea being made. "Thank you for making the tea, Rami." he says sincerely.

"The details are still filtering through. It may have been a terrible accident. A smaller protest gone out of control. Or a hothead. In any event…." Rami sets the two cups on the table, then brings the tea over. "…they've crossed a line. It may escalate from here, or it may sober them. The second, I sincerely hope." He undoes a button on his jacket to facilitate sitting. "No, not at all. I never make just a -cup- of tea." Rami smiles in a pleasant way, then fills each of their cups. "And you sir? Is it strange to be back? I am intimately acquainted with culture shock. It can be quite unnerving."

Mohinder nods, "I sincerely hope that it was all an accident too..the thought that innocents are being drug into this.." he visibly shudders and pinches between his eyes. "I just hope it makes for a pause so we can all re-evaluate how far this has gotten." he responds to what the agent says as he sits and at the question, nods. "It's the first time I've been back since the explosion…so not only am I plagued with culture shock, but all the memories that went with my first trip here. It seems like it was so long ago." he says, letting the tea steep for a few moments but he takes it straight up. No sugar and cream for him.

Rami adds a touch of honey to his tea, but nothing else. Good tea seldom needs any augmenting and he makes it a point to stock good tea. He -did- have an exceedingly British upbringing. "The New World, I am sad to say, is experiencing the kind of terror, ruin and fight for resources that most every other country has felt. It's no secret that my previous occupation was in counterterrorism." A Middle-Eastern man in the CIA? He's not working industrial espionage. "It…is very tragic. But. This is a new issue with the same results, same pattern of behavior. On both sides. A terrorist is a terrorist whether he's from Boston and can create fireballs or is raised in a Lebanese slum."

Mohinder sips his tea and ponders this, "Committing the oldest of sins in the newest of ways, I imagine.." he says softly. "It never seems to end, or get better..it's always a lateral move of the next worst thing." he glances up, "You were in counterterrorism? Government?" he asks, as if this is just dawning on him. He seems a little surprised.

Rami lifts the tea to his lips. He pauses just for a moment and answers a simple, "Yes," to Mohinder's question. "Though the details of which are of course, classified." He pulls over a bag of oatmeal cookies and opens it up. The tray is pulled out and offered to Mohinder before he takes one.

Mohinder holds up a hand, "No thanks." he says politely, and sips his tea. "Of course classified. Just surprised how you ended up here…Not the most open of employers, if you follow." he says, sitting back. "Not that I'm complaining - you're just what we need in these darker times, Rami. Not that times were really all that bright."

"Well, to be perfectly honest…" when a man like Rami says something like that, it's clear there's an asterisk attached to a note that says 'as honest as I'm allowed to be.' "…I worked undercover so much that my face wore itself out," he smiles and chuckles, though there's not quite mirth in his eyes. "I was offered this position in lieu of being chained to a desk at headquarters. This seemed far more worthwhile. What we have with the Evolved…are men, women and sometimes children, who wander around armed at all times. Who, in fact, -cannot- be disarmed. This creates a very dangerous situation for all involved. When a…bit of road rage or anger over allowance could level a city block…well, that's why we do what we do, doctor. It is…noble work. We need to help them, help the people who are not gifted with powers and maintain order. When order falters…well, then there is war. War with both sides carrying weapons within their very genes."

Mohinder nods emphatically, "That's exactly why I'm working. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't even want to strip them of their abilities. I want to understand how they work so that they can be controlled, so that the people who have them can live whatever kinds of lives they wish to. Now, if they wish to use their abilities consciously for ill purposes..well by all means, let the chips fall where they may but more people I've met with abilities more often than not are people who wish to simply be allowed to live their lives…" he trails off not discussing the more unsavory element he's met along the way as well.

"Those who wish to live their lives are of course, not the problem. But as always, the vocal minority are the ones most heard." Rami speaks matter-of-factly. He sips his tea. "And the ones that the rest of the population look to for representations of the Evolved. So we have a problem there. The average person only hears reports of this mayhem. This death of children. Bombings. Murders. The ones who do this not only damage society, but their own reputations as well. They must be brought under control, as much for their own sakes and ours, as for the sake of their fellow Evolved." He regards Mohinder and his voice drops slightly and takes on a slighty more serious tone. "That is why your work is of such great importance, doctor. Your genius could mean the salvation of a city, at the very least."

Mohinder nods, sipping his tea. "It is not really my genius. It is my father's genius that was the impetus for even knowing in the first place. I am merely continuing what he started. Divining slowly the direction that he might have wanted to go. It..it is a heavy burden to bear. I just hope I can see it through. My greatest fear is that of failure, or at the very least an oversight that could lead to a major realization." he looks up at you and there is indeed a haunted look to his eyes.

Rami's eyes are not haunted. They are serious, determined. There's fire behind a perhaps gentle face. Mohinder is the knowledge, the brain. But he's prepared to be the hand that makes it happen. The practical side of the equation. "I have every confidence in you, Doctor Suresh." He appears to mean it.

Mohinder smiles at that, "Thank you, Agent Hollingwood." he looks down at his now empty cup. "I sincerely mean that. It's one thing to work alone in the darkness - it's another entirely to be reminded that there are others that are also doing the same thing." he takes a deep breath. "I should really return to work. The samples that I've prepared should be ready for another round of analyses."

"Of course," Rami inclines his head graciously. "Thank you for the company. It's a pleasure to speak with one whose job involves staying behind these walls. Associating only with fellow agents can limit one's perspective. And please…" He lifts his head. "If there is anything I can do to aid your research, you need only to ask. Or, if you'd like a special lunch run. My diet is very low on greasy foods." He smiles again. It's amiable enough, but perhaps not -quite- enough.

Mohinder stands up and heads for the door, giving the agent a sincere look as he speaks. "I will do so.." and then he chuckles about the lunch comment, "I may well do that. The cafeteria menu here I think is designed by fifteen year old boys who spend their days playing video games." he smiles, and it's amiable enough. Perhaps enough, for the both of them.

November 24th: The Writing in the Dust

Previously in this storyline…

Next in this storyline…

November 25th: Late
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