"Steve! The phone has been ringing off the hook all morning," Diana greeted him as he walked through the door of their offices. He had been in meetings since shortly after dawn, and felt as if he had already put in a full day of work, and it was only 10. Her desk, normally neat as a pin, was littered with carbons from the message pad. "Everyone wants to know if Hitler is really dead. This is madness!"

"General Eisenhower has doubts," he said as he pulled off his overcoat and hung it and his hat on the hat stand in the corner. "Is there—" he was about to say 'coffee' just as she pressed a steaming cup into his hand. He gave her a grateful smile, and almost scalded his tongue with the first swallow. "Thanks."

"Do you? Have doubts?" she asked, alarmed.

"No," he said with a firm shake of his head. "He's dead, Diana. The only question is whether to believe Doneitz—that he died fighting, or whether he committed suicide. I don't know if we'll ever know the truth for sure. How are your mother and sister doing?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, they're fine," she said as she began to tidy his desk absently, stacking files and papers and setting them back beneath the 22 shell casing he used as a paper weight. "Dru is showing Mother the Smithsonian Institute today. That should keep them occupied until tonight, I'm sure."

"I take it your mother doesn't travel very often?"

"This is my mother's first time away from home in living memory," Diana laughed ruefully, and he got the feeling there was a story there.

"Where is home?" he asked, and realizing he'd never known—even when she'd taken leave in the past to go visit her family. He knew they didn't have a telephone, and somehow he'd always pictured Diana having been brought up in some tucked away corner of America that hadn't yet been touched by the same hardships that his generation had endured growing up. Some mythical place spared the horrors of the Great War, or the ravages of the Depression. But in point of fact, he had no idea. For all he knew, Diana had had it even worse off than his family had. She had never spoken of home beyond homespun wisdom and advice handed down to her from her mother.

Her gaze slid past him to the map that hung on his wall, suddenly unfocused. "A long way from here," she said, a wistful tone in her voice, but there was some sadness there too.

"You must be looking forward to going home, then," he said, trying to keep his voice from betraying him.

She seemed startled, replying quickly, "I've responsibilities—obligations at home that I've been neglecting the last three years..."

Steve smiled despite himself. "That's my Diana—always the responsible one." She flashed him a smile, and he took a chance, reaching out to touch her hand. "But surely, with Dru at home, your mother can spare you?"

She smiled, giving his hand a quick squeeze before releasing it. "I'm the eldest. She relies on me. I only came here to help the war effort—to fight the Nazis. But once the war is over, Mother has every right to ask that I come home, and resume..." she paused, as if she was going to say one thing, but ended up saying another. "To pick up where I left off."

Steve frowned, and covered it by taking another sip of the coffee. "Diana, this may be none of my business, but you don't seem very excited about going back with your mother and sister," he said frankly, watching her face for some sign that he was close to the truth.

"Sometimes it feels like I only just got here," she admitted, that same sad smile playing about the corner of her mouth as she walked over to the window which faced out toward the capital building. "There's still so much I haven't seen, so much I haven't done..."

He stood, and carefully laid a hand on her shoulder. "If you don't want to leave Washington..." he began, knowing that what he really meant to say was 'if you don't want to leave me'. "You're a grown woman—you can make your own decisions."

"You don't know my mother," she said softly. "Believe me, I'd stay if I could." She turned, and then flushed as she apparently realized how close they were. She took an involuntary step back, and spell of the moment was suddenly broken. "I should get back to work," she said, brows drawing together in a slight frown behind the black-rimmed spectacles, and Steve cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Of course. General Blankenship is expecting my report by this afternoon, and I've got a million things to catch up on." He sat back down, surveying the neat stacks of files and papers, and trying to remember which report exactly was due. "Oh, and Diana?" he said as he reached for the file on top of the stack.

"Yes?" she said from the doorway.

"I'll miss you," he said sincerely.

She flashed him a brilliant smile that lit up her whole face. "I'll miss you too, sir," she said, and then disappeared back through the inner office door.

"We should have a party," Etta said as she moved her dill pickle slice around her plate with her fork. She sat in a booth along the window with Charlie Niles, the remains of their simple lunch of tuna sandwiches waiting to be cleared. Major Trevor sat across from them, his sandwich barely touched.

"A going away party, for Diana," Etta continued, brightening considerably as she warmed to the idea. "You know—to show her how much we love her and are going to miss her."

"I think that's a swell idea," Charlie said. "Don't you, sir?"

"A party?" Steve echoed. He'd only been half-listening to Etta, preoccupied. Diana had elected to stay back at the office, saying she had so much to do and was foregoing lunch. Steve was having a great deal of difficulty dealing with the reality that soon—perhaps days, perhaps weeks, perhaps months—Diana would be gone. "I think that's an excellent idea, Private," Steve said as Maggie came over to clear their plates. "We should do something to let Yeoman Prince know how special she is, and how much we're going to miss her."

"You want me to wrap this up for you, Major?" Maggie asked, indicating the sandwich with a tilt of her head.

"If you could, Maggie. And can we get a tuna on white, no pickle, wrapped up? I want to take Diana some lunch."

"Sure thing, Major. And pardon me for eavesdropping, but did I hear she was going back home?"

"With her mother and sister," Etta said as she rested her chin in her upturned palm, glum once more.

"Oh, that's such a shame. We're awful fond of her here, aren't we, Danny?"

"I'll sure hate to see her go," Danny agreed as he wiped down the counter with a damp rag. "And her sister's a real pistol."

"You and Dru hit it off?" Steve asked the counterman, who grinned.

"Funny girl, but real sweet. Hey, speak of the devil," Danny said with a grin as the teen-ager came through the glass doors of the diner. She waved at Major Trevor, Etta, and Charlie as she took a seat at the counter.

"Hi, Danny," she said shyly, "Can I get an ice cream sundae?"

Danny handed her a menu. "We got chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla."

"Oh, yes please!" Dru said, and Steve couldn't help but smile. For such a tiny girl, she sure had an appetite. For sweets, anyway.

"One triple-scoop sundae with all the fixings, coming up," Danny said with a wink.

Maggie came over with two paper bags, and Steve took the bill to the counter, handing Danny two bits for the sandwiches, potato salad, and sodas. "How are you doing, Drusilla?" he asked as the young man got him his change.

"I'm just swell, Major Trevor."

"I thought you were at the Smithsonian today?"

"We were, but mother wanted to go home early. She wasn't in very good spirits."

"Oh? If you don't mind my asking, is anything wrong?

"I think she and Diana had a fight," Dru confided in a low voice.

"Oh," Steve said, trying to imagine Diana raising her voice to her mother. It was a mental picture that simply refused to come into focus. Heck, Diana had only ever raised her voice at him the one time, and that was the only fight they'd ever had in three plus years.

"When we got back to the hotel last night, Diana didn't seem very happy about going back home." Dru continued, " I think she's going to miss you a lot, Major Trevor."

"What makes you say that?"

"Are you kidding?" the young girl giggled. "You're all Diana has ever talked about since she first saw you in the hospital!"

"Hospital?" Steve echoed, perplexed.

"I mean, since she started working for you," Dru amended, and then her eyes became big as saucers as Danny returned with a mountain of ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and peanuts.

"One ice cream sundae, made to order," Danny said with a wink as he slid the bowl in front of Dru, who favored him with a blinding smile.

"Is this enough?" Dru asked around a mouthful of ice cream and chocolate syrup, handing him a quarter.

"Are you kidding? That's enough for the new issue of Look, an ice cream sundae, and movie—with popcorn."

"The only movie I've ever seen was the one Major Trevor and that nice Corporal Ames were in. Oh!" Her eyes grew wide again. "Do you think I could see a movie while I'm here?"

"You mean... with me?" Danny asked, looking around to make sure he was the only guy she could have been asking.

"That would be neat!" she said.

"You're one crazy girl, you know that?"

"How do you mean?"

"Where I come from, it's the guys that ask the girls out—not the other way around."

"But you did ask me. Just now." Dru was puzzled.

Danny shook his head, giving up. "Wonder Man is playing on the base. I'd be happy to take you."

"You two kids have fun," Steve said with a smile, and left Drusilla to her snack. Etta and Charlie were waiting for him outside the café, so they could walk back to the War Department together. "Say, Charlie," Steve said as they turned the corner, "Could you do me a favor?"

"Anything, sir—you name it," the young clerk insisted, and Steve told him his plan as they walked back over D street.

Author's Note: Please, if there's anything that doesn't work for you, or is factually or grammatically incorrect, don't hesitate to tell me! Constructive criticism is the greatest gift you can give an author. I'm not a delicate flower who will curl up and die at the first sign of criticism. I want to make this story the very best I can, so please let me know what works for you, and more importantly, what doesn't.