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[madamemoiselle]

{Dero was nice enough to motivate me to make a posting schedule, so here's Diva! She's still in Haydée's body, so as soon as she came here, the uniform she had been wearing was gone. But still, she's sitting behind a desk with neat piles of paperwork, all in German. There's a bulky typewriter that takes up most of the desk, and a small desk radio that sounds like a German radio program, though Diva had turned it down quite a while ago.

She also looks surprisingly tired. She leans back in the wooden chair, putting her palms lightly over her eyes.}

Ne, it's really stupid. I really shouldn't care, shouldn't--

{But something said on the radio catches her attention, so she lifts her palms to look at the radio}

My, isn't that something? President Roosevelt traveled by aeroplane last week. I'm sure he was going to meet Mr. Churchill, actually. I wonder if Amshel or Solomon will be there too, actually~ It was winter when they met them, if I remember correctly...

((ooc: Simultaneous plots, awesome. Diva is now in Germany, 1943))

Comments

[didorothy]

We could meet Shakespeare. Find out what he really looks like.

[madamemoiselle]

Hm...If Sam could meet anyone here, who would you pick?

[didorothy]

[Sam frowns in thought. He's already met Marc Bolan, and he's got a bit of a grudge directed at Bowie...]

Sir Robert Peel.

[madamemoiselle]

...Who is that?

[didorothy]

Founder of British policing.

[madamemoiselle]

{She laughs}

That makes sense for Sam, then!

[didorothy]

[don't laugh at hiiiim]

Yeah, well. That's my answer.

[madamemoiselle]

No, no, I like it! It's very cute.

{Grins} Sam is married to his work, isn't he?

[didorothy]

It's very important to me.

[madamemoiselle]

I know that.

{Warmly} But it's a good thing! It means that Sam's very good at his job, right? Since it's so important to you.

[didorothy]

I hope so.

[madamemoiselle]

What do you mean, "I hope so"? Sam is very good!

[didorothy]

I do what I can. What's right, as far as I can tell. And some days, that's enough.

[madamemoiselle]

Then that's being an excellent policeman, I think.

[didorothy]

Thank you.

[madamemoiselle]

You're welcome. It's true, though. I think that Sam is very good at his job. I mean, if you weren't, then why would you be helping me?

[didorothy]

[would argue that he'd do it because it's her, but then, it was his policing instincts that told her to help her which lead to getting to know her. ...Though it was also his morals. Hm. Chicken, or egg?]

It's not just my job.

[madamemoiselle]

...Then what else is it?

[didorothy]

It's... doing the right thing. And caring.

[madamemoiselle]

Well, isn't that part of being a policeman?

[didorothy]

Not according to some of my co-workers. But it's not like I'm like that because it's my job. It's who I am.

[ie, Sam IS his job]

[madamemoiselle]

Then...Is it something else besides that?

[didorothy]

What do you mean?

[madamemoiselle]

Well, doing the right thing, caring...That's not true for everyone you've met. What makes me different?

[didorothy]

It was the right place and the right time, maybe. When we met... I'd just died. Your death got to me more than it would have before, maybe.