"Sam?" Diane looked up.

"Hmm?"

"If I may ask…what's possessed you, to suddenly want to increase your literacy?"

Sam shrugged. "You know, I couldn't really tell you."

Diane peered at him, with a smirk. "Couldn't—or wouldn't?"

"Oh, come on, does this kind of thing always have to be—look, I don't know! I guess I thought it'd be something great of me to do—something to make me feel great about it."

"Feel…?"

"Smart, I dunno…look, I don't think I'd have to tell you how stupid I feel every time someone starts talking about some book—and they act like everyone should know what they're talking about, and if you don't, they're shocked."

Diane's smile faded, and she swallowed. "Sam…"

"No, don't worry about it—you're not shocked, you're amused at it."

Diane stared at the remnants of her cheesecake, saying nothing.

"I dunno…I guess I just want to—not have to cover for it by making fun of it. I mean, that kind of thing matters a lot to you…right?"

Diane looked at him, and nodded. "It does, Sam."

"Well…there you go. Boy, I can't tell you how stupid I felt with Claudia today—with or without you."

Diane stiffened at the name. "I…I certainly didn't notice—"

"Oh, come on, Diane—I put that aside, because I wanted to score with her. But of course, she's this stuffy, brainy dame who doesn't even pretend to care about the things I know about…" Sam gave a light shrug, "And there you go."

Diane looked a little disappointed, as she said, "So…you want to stock up on your literary memory so as to more successfully—how did you put it—score with intelligent women."

"Well…maybe—but not just with that, okay? It's happened with Frasier, too. We're supposed to be friends—and he's trying his best to fit in with my side of the tracks. Maybe I should try returning the favor, for once…."

Diane smiled faintly. "But Sam, you could always ask him for advice—he's certainly at least as well-read as I am. But instead, you're coming to me."

"Yeah, because I know you better than him!—and vice-versa. You know my tastes, don't you?"

"More or less—unfortunately."

"Ha, ha."

"Really, Sam…I was under the impression that you wanted to expand your 'tastes', via your reading."

"I do—but hey, I've got my limits, like everyone else. I mean, I wouldn't ask you to read Sports Illustrated!"

"Thank heaven."

"See—see?"

Diane chuckled, shaking her head. "Sam…this isn't the first time you've had an intelligent woman in your, how shall I say it, your 'sights'."

Sam grinned, "Other than you?"

Diane just smiled, and went on. "There was also that woman, where—so as to succeed with her—you constantly asked me for information on such things as Impressionism—without, I might add, explaining to me your reasons."

Sam sighed, "You know, I still feel pretty bad about that."

"As well you should! Anyway—"

"Hey, but you got to run the bar when I was gone, didn't—?"

"I didn't know that was what you meant!"

Sam frowned, staring at her. "What did you…think I meant?"

Diane suddenly looked like she was fighting a blush, as she took another bite.

"Diane?"

"Never mind that—suffice it to say, I was left feeling bewildered and dejected, to say the least. The point, Sam—"

Sam grinned. "Well, how about that?"

"Sam, will you just—!"

"Okay, fine—what's up?"

"Thank you! Now, the point is—since our relationship, I've noticed attempts on your part to enhance your…'credentials' as far as higher culture are concerned. Now, that causes me to wonder—"

"Hang on," Sam chuckled, still ginning inside at his discovery, "Sweetheart, this is not just to pick up smart chicks, all right?"

"I'm aware of that!"

"Thank you—wait," Sam stared at her, his smile fading a little, "What do you think it's about?"

Diane paused. "Well…it's not the sort of thing you'd admit to, Sam."

"Come on, try me."

"All right," Diane smiled at him, "I think you're trying to impress me."

Sam let out a scoff, "Oh—come on, what—Diane!"

"Why, Sam—the first time I've ever heard you consider a library card, at least recently, was when we were in your office, in each other's arms…"

"Well, sure, but—Diane, it's not—"

Diane straightened up confidently, obviously reveling in the fact that Sam was now the one all on edge, and said, "Sam, are you going to look me in the eye and tell me your newfound interest in books has nothing to do with me?"

Sam didn't bat an eye. "No—I'm not."

Diane blinked. "You're…not?"

"What, were you expecting me to deny and deny until you pry it out of me?"

"Essentially, yes!"

"Well, I can't stand your prying, so I might as well admit that."

Diane stared at him. "Sam…are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Sam smiled. Sometimes "surrender" is the best way to win. "Depends. What do you think I'm saying—that I'm still head-over-heels for you, or something?"

"Well…"

"You wish."

Diane sighed, "All right, then! What is it, really?"

Shoot. Sam paused, gathering his words carefully. Finally, he said, "Diane…you know how much your opinion means to me—you know how much I want you to think of me as…well, as a good person."

Diane nodded, saying nothing.

"Well…maybe what I'm saying is—I want to be able to…"

He paused, and found he couldn't go on. The truth was, now that he thought of it, it sounded very much like he was trying to "impress" her. Suddenly "surrender" didn't seem like a good tactic after all.

Diane's gaze lowered, as she took her coffee, sipping. Finally, she said, "You want me to…think of you as smart?"

"Well—I want you to think I'm…" he shook his head, "I dunno," he muttered as he took a big sip of his coffee.

"Oh, Sam…" Diane put her hand on his. "Are you only doing this because you think I'd want you to?"

"Hey, don't tell me you don't."

"Sam, why should it matter to you?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, I…"

Oh, great, here we go again—once again…she's twisted it into "Sam, you're harboring a desire for me, and you know it, but can't admit it"! Sheesh, how does she do it?

Well…I did invite her up here—didn't I?

Sam let out a sigh, "Diane, honestly, asking myself whether you'd approve of something or not…I really think it's helped make me a better person. I don't like to admit it, but it's true."

Diane's smile grew. "Why, Sam, that's so…"

"Hold on—it isn't just you, come to think of it."

Maybe a little too late for that—but there you go.

Diane shook her head. "Really…?"

"Well, you know—I'm a jock. I like knowing what I'm good at—and making myself the best at it. I mean—I read that War and Peace book in five days…and after I was able to sleep on it…"

Diane chuckled.

Sam nodded, "…you know, I felt pretty good! I did something I didn't think I could do! I—I was sure it would've been the most boring thing I've ever read in my life, but…the truth is, I swear, I actually kinda got into it, a bit."

Diane nodded. "So, you wish to explore this new side of yourself—and enhance it to the best of your ability, is that it?"

"If you said what I'm pretty sure I heard—yeah, I guess so."

Diane chuckled again, "Well—either way, Sam, I'm glad you're doing it."

Sam smiled at her. "Well, I'm glad you're glad I'm doing it."

Diane grinned. "Well…I'm glad that you're glad that I'm—"

"Okay, this is getting weird."

Diane nodded, as they shared a laugh.

Within a minute, their cheesecake was finished, and Diane shook her head with a smile as she took back her napkin.

Sam returned it. "What?"

"Oh, it's only…I'm glad I accepted your invitation, Sam. Regardless of your reasons for inviting me, I'm grateful you did."

Sam shrugged. "There's still the coffee."

Diane nodded, taking the mug. "Why, yes there is."

"Well…you know something?"

Diane sipped the mug—finishing. "Hmm?"

"You know, for all your talk about changing the subject—we sure got off your book pretty fast."

Diane shrugged. "I wasn't aware there was more to talk about, on that…."

"Well—if you ever do get around to it again, why not let me have a look, huh?"

Diane shook her head with a chuckle. "Sam…I doubt it would be your cup of tea—or coffee, in this case."

"Come on, what makes you so sure?"

"Sam—the conflict of my heroine is as a rule internal. I doubt it would have sufficient…action to appeal to your tastes."

"Hey—what were we talking about? I'm trying to expand my 'tastes', and something by you…well, worst-case, I'll have a good cure for insomnia."

Diane threw her napkin at him again. "Oh, you're awful!"

Sam laughed, playing with the napkin before he tossed it back. "As opposed to what?"

"As opposed to a man willing to move beyond petty interests, so as to broaden his horizons."

"You don't think I am?"

"I think you're torn between wanting to be that, and wanting to just stay where you are, with your idea of 'fun'. You, Sam Malone, are a man-child, and you'll stay that way until the day you choose to grow up."

Much as he hated whenever she said something like that—usually because of the satisfied, matter-of-fact, not-open-for-debate-or-discussion way she said it—Sam managed to keep a smile on his face. "So what do you really think?"

"I believe I just said it."

"Uh-huh. And you want to know what I think about you?"

"Go ahead," Diane said with a shrug, "I couldn't care less."

"I think you're obsessed with thinking of yourself as a teacher of the—whatcha say, that one time: 'the unwashed masses' or something?"

"Essentially."

"There you go—you're this…brilliant, righteous teacher guiding people like me to follow people like you. And if we don't, we're a bunch of spoiled little brats with brains like apes."

"Well—I wouldn't know if I'd put it that way…."

"And I wouldn't put what you just said about me 'that way' either!"

Diane sighed. "I thought you said you cared about how I thought…."

Sam smiled at her. "I do—when you're right."

Diane tilted her head, looking at him with an amused half-smirk.

"While we're at it—you think maybe you're a little torn, yourself?"

Diane frowned. "What…do you mean?"

"Well, you're sure proud about being on this 'higher' level than just about everyone else in the room…but on the other hand, you're a little afraid of the world."

Diane blinked. "Come again?"

Sam grinned. Two can play at this game! "You know exactly what I mean. Every time you try some kind of life outside the bar, something happens, or you panic…or you go nuts—"

"Sam…"

"I'm just saying, after that pile of…whatever-he-is dumped you, your only 'stable' kind of life…it's been downstairs, in the bar."

Diane said nothing. She raised the mug to her lips—and flinched at the empty cup.

Sam waved over the waiter. "Hey…let's have a refill for both of us."

"Right away, sir."

Diane nodded to Sam with a smile, "Thank you, Sam."

"No problem."

Yeah…she'd asked if he'd be including refills as part of the deal, for her to come up with him to Melville's, and have with him the last two slices of cheesecake. She'd asked if his offer included coffee—"Maybe." And a refill?—"Don't push it."

Yeah…and she gets it. I'll bet she knew she would. She always knows. Sheesh, how "perfect" can a woman get? Yeah—perfect—even the crazy parts. Perfectly crazy! Boy, I'm glad it's over between us! Or am I, and is it?—oh, shut up!

As the man left, Sam noticed Diane also looked pretty deep in thought, herself. He pulled another penny from his pocket, holding it up to her with a smirk.

Diane shook her head. "It's all right, Sam. I…I was reflecting on what you said."

"And…how about it?"

Diane smiled again. "I suppose, in your better moments, you truly are an astute observer of human nature."

Sam smiled.

"At any rate, perhaps you're right. Perhaps after Sumner—left me…I found myself afraid to seek my own way. I was so outwardly confident of being so capable, but…inside, I was—frightened. I was unsure of my place in the world, and then…you offered me a job as a waitress."

Sam nodded. "That's right, I did."

Diane nodded quickly, swallowing. "Sam, I…well, looking back, over so many events in my life, since then—all those times…Sam, when I tried to find another career, and the only ones who'd hire me, did so only out of…physical lusts—why, if you hadn't offered to hire me in the first place, I'm sure and certain it would've been worse for me. I…I would've had nowhere to go."

"Well, um—"

"Sam, please…let me finish. When I learned Sumner left me, I was…all but crushed with despair—the despair of a broken heart. And you helped me to heal from that—that…simmering turmoil within, those feelings of inadequacy, and inferiority…"

Sam frowned. "So…what are you saying, that I'm a hero or something?"

Diane's eyes welled up, as she nodded with a smile, "I-I think I can say—for all intents and purposes, Sam…you saved my life, that day."

Sam stared at her, unable to respond.

Diane shook her head. "I-I don't mean I would've…died—well, not literally, but…"

Sam nodded. "I get it," he muttered.

Why me? Oh, of all the bars in Boston, the two of them just had to walk into mine. I knew I was gonna regret it…it filled my gut—I just knew! And you know what—I just wish…

But for some reason, he just couldn't finish the thought.