040

[madamemoiselle]

{Diva is lounging quite comfortably on a couch she's brought to the Plane, wearing very little. Propped against her knees is the The Poetical Works of Lord Byron that Sam has given her. She's also brought a few magazines, one of which seems to have a picture of her on the cover, but it's mostly obscured by a knife that she's been meaning to return.

But in the meantime, she reads aloud, occasionally stammering over a word or two.}

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light...

{But after that bit, she stops, smiling brightly}

Ne, that sounds like the Plane, doesn't it? Well, maybe not so much the last part, but I bet some people here would think that anyways. I can't, though. It's too nice here. Still, how lovely! Did Lord Byron get to come to this place, I wonder?

{She shakes her head though, laughing} Ne, it wouldn't really surprise me. There isn't too much about this place that surprises me anymore. But it'd be nice to actually meet him! I really do love his poems.

{But the thought is soon dismissed, and she reads the rest of the poem quietly.}

Comments

[madamemoiselle]

{D:! Concerned!! Diva comes closer to Sam on the couch, frowning}

Really? But that's...! {She wants to say "awful", but...well, that's Sam's job, so she settles for a question instead}

What made Sam want to become a police officer anyways? It seems really dangerous.

[didorothy]

[daddy issues, Diva. It was daddy issues]

It isn't so bad. It was just--I met a copper, when I was a boy. One of the old fashioned bobbies, hat and all.

[madamemoiselle]

{Smiles}

So that's it? You remembered that from when you were little?

[didorothy]

Turned out I had an aptitude for it.

[madamemoiselle]

I couldn't imagine, that, though! That you wanted to become something in particular ever since you were a child.

[didorothy]

Most kids want to be policemen or firefighters when they're young. I just never grew out of it.

[Sam signs his name on a paper, then flips it over to check what's on the other side, and then sighs]

How I miss databases.

[madamemoiselle]

...Databases? What is that, Sam?

[didorothy]

It's a system for organizing data - records, all that.

[madamemoiselle]

And you miss that? Can't you just do that yourself, though?

[didorothy]

It requires better computers than are available.

[madamemoiselle]

...Do you want one?

[didorothy]

Yes.

[a pause]

Don't even think about getting me one. I don't fancy trying to introduce all of CID to it. Annie would get more upset at me than she did when I gave her a mobile. Chris and Ray would spill coffee on it, and Gene would kick it when he's angry.

[madamemoiselle]

But it would make things easier for you, wouldn't it?

[didorothy]

Somehow, I doubt it.

[CID, you clowns]

[madamemoiselle]

What if you kept it here?

[didorothy]

My glasses would work as much as that.

[madamemoiselle]

Oh...Well I guess that wouldn't help, then. Ne, but if you ever need anything, just tell me, alright?

[didorothy]

'course.

[he rubs at his eye, then turns the page on his paperwork, back to scribbling in information.]

[madamemoiselle]

You really do work too hard, though. When is your next day off, Sam?

[didorothy]

[Sam doesn't remember]

Uhh, I'll ask Gene when I go back.

[madamemoiselle]

Well, on your next day off, would you like to go to a film, maybe? I've been invited to several premieres.

[didorothy]

[his eyes turn to her, and then flicker down]

I'd rather not. Not just now.

[Someone's still upset about his recent discovery, yes]

[madamemoiselle]

{Her shoulders sink, and she draws away, sitting back again}

Of course.

[didorothy]

[Sam isn't sure what to say - he turns another page and seems to be holding the pen more tightly, pressing into the page harder as he writes]

[madamemoiselle]

{She notices, but she stays quiet for a good while, just reading the poetry quietly. But she breaks the silence quietly, almost hesitantly}

Thank you for this book, by the way. The poems are beautiful.