exceptional

Who: Hero and Sam
Where: Sam's Place
When: Early afternoon

Despite no sleep last night, Hero was practically bounding up the street. She had coffee in one arm and Nighthawks' cheese fries in the other: She never walked into an interview without doing her homework first, not even when it was a semi-spontaneous one.

The interview had been originally scheduled for earlier in the week, at the police station. A sort of 'Day in the Life of ECPD's First Female Detective' human interest piece. It had actually been an interest piece that Hero, always one for a bit of 'Girl Power!', had been genuinely looking forward to -- especially since ECPD's lady cop had some very uncop-like family connections. Which either meant she wasn't so shiny herself, or she probably had some issues to reconcile if she was. Or it could have meant something Hero hadn't thought of yet. Either way, she had been interested.

But not so interested to gripe much when the interview had been postponed, maybe outright cancelled, due to stress leave. Not when Hero had a sense of some Big Fish approaching the fryer, and Babylon had toppled, and the O'Malleys and all the mobs in general were in turmoil. Or, most recently, when frozen bodies popped up that -- according to Hero's sources -- weren't a case of crazies making a break for it.

It had been that subject that had lingered on her mind as she had walked from the convenience store, new cigarette between her teeth and a yet uncrumpled pack in her pocket. The weather had kept lesser wills inside, but the police station would certainly be open, and there was just too good an opportunity to get some of the scoop before other people did so at a less freezing hour. So she had bypassed the whole 'going to bed' plan and stopped only for a (freezing) shower and change before making headway to the police station.

Which, overall, had proven disappointing on the Unidentified Frozen Bodies issue. But Hero suspected it was a case of actually not knowing anything yet than the professed nondisclosure the station was playing up too strongly. But the visit hadn't been a total bust: something had caught her ear. It was a mere sidenote in someone else's conversation, consisting of some mere routine status report: Samantha Tyler had questioned one Arun "Johnny" Tang.

Hero certainly had some long-held and pretty reliable contacts in the Chinatown area, so of course Johnny's name and reputation were no new thing to her. Of course she had heard about the hit, and had heard that it was placed by the DiGiovannis -- Giacomos specifically, her sources said. And that telltale inkling Hero had long learned to follow, for better or worse, was telling her that maybe it was time to call one Samantha Tyler up for that interview she was owed.

So here Hero was, smiling brightly at the menacing bodyguards before Sam's door, bearing coffee and cheese fries and and an oh-so-inquisitive mind. "Gentleman," Hero acknowledged, that goofy smile turning to a grin, "Hero Madison, with the Echo?" She tucked the cheese fries bag in the corner of her arm, and happily held out a hand for shaking as she greeted the guards -- not that they did little more than glare grumpily at it. Unperturbed though, she brought her hand back and happily laughed it off, "I have an appointment."

The shorter of the two eyed Hero speculatively, eyes moving to the bag. "We'll have to check that, Miss Madison." They had closed ranks, so to speak, when Hero had mentioned that she worked for the Echo, as if blocking the door would make it invisible. They were clearly protective of the woman inside the apartment, and given what had been going on the past few days, it wasn't hard to believe.

"Of course," Hero smiled, wholly unbothered with the man's wariness. She was a journalist. That made people wary. And sometimes it even made people not like her very much on principle. A mere fact of life Hero had long since accepted. "But you take too long, and your buddy and I here might start 'checking' on Miss Tyler's cheese fries," she joked, actually moving over to the other equally grumpy-looking bodyguard to give him a conspiratorial nudge and a wink -- yes she actually winked -- as if he were in on it.

Very matter of factly, the guard that Hero had sidled up to plucked the bag of cheese fries from her and checked inside while the shorter one knocked on the door.

Sam, while all this was going on, was cleaning up. Well, it's not like there was much to clean. She hadn't had much to do in her days of confinement and she was both relieved and mortified to get the call that the damn reporter wanted to do the interview today. Her face was still swollen, the bruises darkening and it had been a long, somewhat painful process to carefully cover it up with make up. She arranged her hair, brushing the long blond locks in soft waves that somewhat fell along the hurt side of her face. Red lipstick helped keep the attention away. She wore something nice. Pants still were a bitch so she was wearing a casual but still fashionable blue dress.

When the knock came on the door, Sam sighed, doing one last check in the mirror before going over and answering the door. She looked back and forth between the two guards before resting her eyes on Hero. Who was holding coffee. And fries. Interesting. "You must be Hero. Come on in." She gave her a genuine smile and patted the shorter guard's shoulder comfortingly before opening the door more for Hero to walk in. "Hope those two weren't a lot of trouble." She had completely forgotten to tell them to "get gone". She didn't want that ending up in the paper.

"And you must be Samantha -- actually, 'Sam', right?" Hero grinned, as if there were any doubt. She had actually seen the woman before. What with writing for the society pages, Hero attended just about every function the city's bigwigs found 'worth' attending. And last week's ball had been no exception. "And these guys were no trouble at all," she replied, flashing 'these guys' a wide grin as she stepped into the apartment. "Although that one over there," her voice 'dropped' into a loud conspiratorial whisper as she pointed to the guard she had nudged earlier, "certainly had too much interest in your cheese fries, if you ask me." She held out the bag of said cheese fries along with the coffees.

"It's a peace treaty of sorts," she explained, the grin decreasing more into a smirk, but her goofy good-nature still shined through. "I have found that, like extraterrestrials, us journalists must always start with 'We Come In Peace'."

Sam eyed her with a frown, but took the bag and the coffees. "Um, thanks." To be honest, she was a bit unnerved and she wasn't sure that she liked nor was she comfortable with Hero knew the name she preferred to go by. Her favorite kind of coffee. Cheese fries... "How about you have a seat on the couch. Can I get you anything to drink?" The polite hostess, that's what she was.

She wasn't entirely sure she should eat the fries but the smell of cheddar and bacon bits... well. Yum. She went into the kitchen, grabbing a fork and a container of sour cream to dump on.

"Well I've got my coffee right here, but if you have any milk or anything stronger--" winkwinknudgenudge "--I don't think I could refuse." To the couch she headed and sat down, taking in everything along the way -- the space, the decor, the pictures. It was a surprisingly nice place and in a surprisingly nice location for a detective's salary, but not so surprising considering who the family was. But Hero wasn't judging. Despite her casual demeanor she was in her professional mode, which meant removing any bias out of it. And for another, although the Giacomos certainly had shady ties, they still had daughters, and cousins, and parents, and, well, family. Hero couldn't honestly begrudge relatives looking out for their own.

"Isn't drinking on the job frowned upon?" she asked dryly, getting out a little container of cream and brought it over to Hero. She took a seat in a comfortable rocking chair across from the couch, kicking her bare feet up on the coffee table. She took a large bite of the delicious food, shutting her eyes as she savored. "So!" she said after swallowing, licking her lips and clearly in a better mood. Because yeah. Cheese fries make everything better. "Wanna do a story on me, hm?"

"Ah, but if it's the job that can drive one to drink..." Hero retorted, bemused, not finishing the statement as she poured the cream into her cup and stirred. She couldn't help the small smile that crept up as Sam kicked her feet up onto the coffee table, and Hero didn't try to. She liked the casual confidence of it all. The journalist within her appreciated the inherent honesty of casual behavior over the planned formality of so many other interactions. And the confidence...? Well, that was a personal preference. "But yes, I do want to do a story on you," she answered, bringing up her coffee to her own lips to test it, seeing if it needed any more cream. Ahh, perfect.

Then she put the cup back down and straightened up a bit, her face losing a touch of her goofiness as she set to the task at hand. "You're Eidolon City's first woman on the force: a feat that might suggest having to overcome a different set of advantages and disadvantages over your peers. At the very least it's had to give pause to some of the common thinking -- such as regarding ECPD as the 'boys in blue' -- of our modern day. To top it off you're a detective with the homicide division, which is a division that already requires a certain character to get into. Now, whether or not you've set out to break or upset certain preconceptions of woman and the police force in general -- especially woman in the police force? You have. And that, Sam--" Hero picked up her coffee and leaned back a bit, appraising Sam thoughtfully, "--makes you an exceptional character. And I, as a journalist and a person, like to focus on exceptional characters."

It was an honest sentiment, spoken plainly as Hero wrapped up her response with another sip from her coffee. She knew how to play some games, sure; but Hero only played them to unveil the games of others. She only lied or misled when the end-goal was a greater truth. And right now she saw no gain in using lies over honesty for the moment.

The change of behavior, from bubbly young woman to hard hitting reporter was not lost on Sam. The woman certainly knew how to get down to business and she did it admirably. Sam could respect that. She considered the words that Hero had said. The line of questioning so to speak. She didn't look like she was doing that though. She was too busy shoving cheese fries into her mouth and licking her fingers.

"That's very kind of you to say," Sam said after a little bit. "I don't consider myself an exceptional person. I'm just me. Sam. I happen to be a homicide detective. But you know, you've got more women in the workplace in general since this war started. Look at yourself. It wasn't so long ago that you didn't see any women reporters. You're just as exceptional, aren't you?" It was all very, very honest. Sam was a cop. She liked a challenge, yeah, but it didn't mean she liked to feed people lines. She was a self confident woman. No one would take that from her.

"Perhaps," Hero conceded, not pretending to be humble nor conceited on the matter, the naturally goofy grin briefly reappearing for a bit. "But I think part of being truly exceptional lies less in people opinions as to whether or not they're exceptional and more in what effect they have. And, for my work and my interest, I'm interested in those whose decisions or positions effect society -- whether it's tangible or simply a matter of having people talk about it. And the first female detective, even if you regard yourself as a detective who happens to be female? People are talking about it. Admittedly I am a woman," she couldn't help grinning at the obviousness there, and again she didn't try to, "and also a journalist. But I'm certainly not the first female journalist working for the Echo -- especially as regards to the society and interest pieces. And humans just have a fascination with being first. Sure, the guy -- or, well, girl -- who gets second might have just as interesting and empowering a story as the winner. But they don't get the interview."

She shrugged a bit there, "Maybe it's our competitive nature. Or maybe it's that when you're the trailblazer you don't have an example before you to use as a guideline or a warning. Whatever it is, first is exceptional. Which is why I'm here." She leaned forward a bit, pulling the ever-present pen and pad out of her purse and focusing on Sam. "So, first question on being Miss First: were there any challenges you encountered joining the force that were particularly unique to your gender? Or, on the flip side, were there challenges you expected to encounter due to your gender but didn't?"

Sam laughed, a tired sound and she licked some sour cream and cheese off of her thumb. "The first problem I had was the Academy board taking my application seriously. There's no law against me applying though. There were no rules or regulations. Anyone is free to apply. Women just didn't. And I did." She was quiet again, this time taking a sip of her hot coffee. The Academy was hard. "I was the only girl there so I was really by myself. The guys at first hit on me. Were... unprofessional, but I outperformed them all. So now they're sitting on desk duty and I'm a detective after only being out of the Academy for a couple of years. And I worked my butt off for the honor. I didn't sleep with anyone -- I get accused of that a lot. I studied and did the tests. I showed exemplary deductive skills, evidence gathering. To put it simply: I'm really good at connecting the dots."

If this had been a conversation on her personal time, Hero would have nodded appreciatively at particularly note-worthy intervals; occasionally mentioning something along the lines of 'Don't you know it' and adding her own two cents once Sam had finished. But this was an interview, and Hero's job was to get and report Sam's story and leave her own opinions out of it. So she didn't nod but instead kept her eyes on Sam, sparing only minimum glances to her pad to make sure the notes didn't overlap atop each other. The rest of the time was spent in observing Sam's behavior, and gestures, and tone. Because ninety percent of communication was body-language. And, in Hero's opinion, ninety-nine percent of who they were was nonverbal. Mere quotes on the page didn't cut it for her. It was partly why she was so good at her job, and partly why her articles had been such a success.

"And what would you most accredit for that exemplary record?" It may have seemed either a vague or a pointless question, but Hero refrained from clarifying it. Some people might say 'hard work, duh', or others would assume she was asking what had motivated them (competition, something to prove, etc.), and others might have pointed to natural abilities or loved one's support or something else entirely. Sometimes how people interpreted a question was more telling than the actual answer they gave, in Hero's opinion.

Sam cocked her head to the side, more hair falling in her face and covering the bruises. Hero hadn't noticed them, or at least, hadn't mentioned it and that was a relief. For now, anyway. "Well, I was there. I got accepted," she said slowly, thoughtfully. It seemed like an odd question, because the answer was obvious to her. "After going through all that trouble of getting in, why wouldn't I try my best to succeed? If you're going to set out with the intention of failing something, don't do it. I wanted to be a cop. I wasn't going to go into it half-cocked." A shrug and she wiggled her toes. "I felt and still feel that I have something to offer to our police force. I wanted to show that."

"How long have you wanted to be a cop? And what do you feel you have to offer the force?" Hero asked. Both questions often came off as very basic and obvious, but Hero knew from experience that the interpretations varied just as much as the answers. What with the cleverly concealing make-up and the hair, she hadn't noticed the bruises. But the information she had gleaned about Sam questioning Johnny Tang along with that itchy inkling that recalled the recent info she had gotten about Johnny still itched at the back of her mind. Like her papers last night and this morning, she could more than sense that there was something there. But Hero didn't know what it exactly was, and she didn't speculate. Speculation often led to narrowing the box which could result in missing the truth, in Hero's opinion.

"It wasn't something I wanted to be as a kid. I didn't go around saying that I'm going to be a police officer. After graduating high school, I waitressed and a lot of cops would come in. I worked the night-shift for awhile, so you'd get bored cops coming. And git got me thinking. I made friends with these guys, so when I'd be reading the paper and oh, so and so in Vice was shot, well, I knew that guy. He was a friend. And there's so many unsolved cases. Missing persons. John Does. Jane Does. How did their families feel?" Sam trailed off a little bit. It wasn't that she was trying to be careful out of her answer. She was trying to find the right way to say it. "And I wanted to help, but the only jobs that women had on the force was filing papers and dispatch. I didn't want to do that. I wanted to actually go out and do something.

"What I bring is the fact that I am a woman. Every day there are women who live with husbands and boyfriends and families who abuse them. It's the hardest thing to do, to go to some strange guy and say that something terrible has happened to them. For some people, especially women and children, it's easier to talk to a woman. I think that's the absolute best thing I can bring. Is that I can be someone to talk to. I can be someone to get a report of a terrible crime while if I wasn't there? That crime probably wouldn't be reported."

"What brought you to homicide?" Especially since what she mentioned about what being a woman brought to the force seemed of greater use focus on sex crimes or maybe Vice and human trafficking instead of murders. But Hero didn't add that part on. She preferred her questions broad, and and general, and didn't like to frame them for a specific answer. She did take a break from jotting notes real quick for another sip of her coffee. However, she did, in the back of her mind as she watched Sam, keep a lookout for any segway that could allow her smooth entry onto the subject of the stress leave. The whole fact that they were here and now instead of at the police station earlier in this week was an elephant in the room, and Hero wasn't one to just let an elephant sit there. She was a hopelessly curious person: she wanted to know for the sake of knowing Sam's story. But in addition to that, she needed to scratch that itch that just wouldn't let her alone.

"I was assigned," Sam said with a little smile and a shrug, a little less earnest and 'serious' than she had been when explaining why she was a cop earlier. "It was just after that killer had been caught. Jakob Hollis -- my current partner -- had been shot and so I was assigned there. Homicide is the busiest department here in Eidolon, and it's a sad thing so I'm glad that I'm working somewhere that can help bring closure."

Oh, Jakob. Hero knew him, alright. She had 'happened' upon many a crime scene and gotten many a statement form the man. And after the serial killer had been gunned down, of course Hero had conducted personal interviews with ECPD's Hero Cops. Half the time what the man said set off Hero's inklings for one reason or another, although it was regrettably less often than she cared to admit that she discovered what exactly those reasons were. Other times they set nothing off at all. And sometimes they didn't set anything off until Hero was back to home, or work, going through her notes are recently written article or some other document when the inkling hit. "And how has it been? Working in homicide?" Another plainly worded and simple question that could be more complex than assumed. Personally, she wanted to ask how it was working with Hollis -- but there was a more pressing itch that she felt close to addressing.

"It's been great! Well, as great as it can be when you're investigating grisly murder cases. Detective Hollis has been really great teaching me the ropes, how things work being a detective. The finer points of crime scene investigation." And he had. Jakob encouraged her, let her know when she was on the right track. Listened to her. Even if he was a creepy kind of guy some of the time. "He's the kind of guy that already comes at things with his A game and you automatically just want to step up and try even harder. It isn't that he's outright demanding perfection. You want to bring him perfection. And we work well off each other. We've been able to close a couple of open cases already... so it's pretty good. I feel good about it."

Sam finished with another shrug and began munching on her cheese fries again. Oh, yummy cheese fries. She stood up after swallowing, taking the half-empty box to the kitchen counter and setting it down, getting a glass of water for herself. "Would you like anything?" She asked again. "Are you hungry? I have some fruit if you're interested."

"Sure," Hero replied, lips easily forming into a wide grinning smile. That wasn't a farce either. Smiling just came naturally to her. She dialed it up a bit, but the basis of it was genuine. And she could certainly go for something to eat. In her scoop-driven haste to the police station, and then to here, she had forgone breakfast. And she wasn't sure if whatever she vaguely remembered munching on last night really counted as dinner. "Fruit sounds great." She didn't continue with the interview while Sam was up -- again, it was important for her to talk face-to-face to catch the nonverbal cues -- but Hero was certainly churning the questions and answers in her mind. The last one was interesting. Hero hadn't mentioned Hollis but Sam's response had largely involved him. She wasn't speculating or judging though. Getting into that kind of mindset was a crap move while working, in her opinion. It affected things, detracted from the main goal. And the main goal? well, goals? Get Sam's story, pure and simple and devoid of Hero's input, for one; and touch upon the stress leave. Beyond that, again, Hero refused to speculate.

Sam came over with the fruit bowl. Some apples, a banana, and some pears and set it on the coffee table for Hero to choose what she'd like. When she had set down the fruit bowl, her hair had moved, revealing the dark shadows under the thin layer of carefully applied make up. Sam didn't think about it, not really. "What other questions do you have?"

It was then that Hero caught the shadows beneath Sam's makeup, and it became a bit harder to make sure mind didn't go into overdrive. She didn't say anything initially thought, but she certainly put it on the list. Hero wasn't one for discretely ignoring anything that caught her eye. It had occurred to her that the covered bruise could certainly have something to do with the stress leave. But it also occurred to her that it could also not be. She took an apple, allowing herself a moment to take and chew a bite before continuing.

"Elephant in the room?" she started plainly after a swallow, picking back up the pen and pad and eying Sam carefully. "The stress leave. What's the story there?" There wasn't any need to play games or beat around the bush around it. She wasn't going to pretend she didn't want to know why Sam was here, in her apartment with bodyguards outside her door, instead of at the police station.

Sam didn't miss a beat. "Frankly, that's none of your business." She smiled sweetly over the rim of her water glass. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she had been beaten and raped. In the middle of Fontaine Park at night.

The retort flowed off Hero like water. If she had a penny for every time somebody told her that... She took another bite of her apple, simply because she really was hungry, before she continued. "It's your business," she replied, lowering the fruit and leaning forward a bit, both hands now holding the apple an elbow rested on each thigh. "This story is about you: good and bad, challenges and successes. It's about you, your thoughts, and the events in your life. Right now you being on stress leave is no state secret. Although your story behind it is certainly shrouded. And as I said? Your story is what I'm interested in, and that's what I'm asking about." Hero didn't sound accusatory, but she didn't pretend to be apologetic about the question either. She had long since learned to not apologize for her job. She was after truth, she wouldn't apologize for that. Did it mean she stepped on more than a few toes? Yes. But it also made her good at her job.

Sam sipped her water, the cop look, one that the reporter would certainly be familiar with, on her face. She hadn't wanted to do this interview. Frankly, she liked being low-key, but letting people know, people like Elle, for example, that she was there. Well, that was important. "I fail to see what the public would get from me taking a couple days off from work."

Hero's eyebrow cocked up a bit, but otherwise her expression kept. Being told to stay out of it or being found annoying or invasive or having people close themselves off to her was another day in the life of a journalist, really. That aspect of it, the stepping on toes, wasn't her favorite part of the job. She hadn't gone into this career to be annoying, that was never her goal. Her goal getting to the truth of matters and getting people's own stories in as pure and complete a form as possible -- even though she was aware many people weren't keen on sharing them. So even if being annoying wasn't her objective? It was a risk and consequence of the job she accepted for the sake of her goal.

She exhaled a little and leaned back a bit, eyes still steady on Sam. "First is exceptional," she brought back up, careful not say anything like 'look at it this way' the way she would have had this been a bar conversation. Telling people how to look or think of things kind of went against her purpose here, "and being exceptional means that your story has an effect whether you want it to or not. And with being first you may not have had any guiding or warning example for you, but it means that you'll be held up as such to others. When people hear of a woman joining the police, especially in the homicide division, there are those who immediately wonder if a woman should be in or can handle being in the police force or not. And when ECPD's first female detective goes on stress leave six days after starting on the force?" She paused there for a moment, just watching Sam. And then after another short intake and exhale of breath she continued,

"With no explanations people speculate." She didn't hide the frown there; she wasn't a fan of speculation. "And even though those speculations may be varied and contradictory at times, other people pick which speculations to stick to and may make decisions influenced by those speculations." It was a valid argument, one which Hero believed, although she didn't like having to give such an explanation. She couldn't help feeling that giving an explanations as to why certain information was desired affected the answers that were given.

And, of course, that was that itch in the back of her mind that piqued when she heard that Sam had questioned Tang. But that didn't give her any reason to think that Sam's stress leave in particular was or wasn't connected to Tang. Right now, the most speculation she was going to give to that feeling was that Sam's (or the police, really; Sam just happened to be the one tasked with the job) questioning Tang had something to do with other Tang-related events. It could have been that simply being questioned by the police in that particular instance had led to Johnny's bounty or disappearance. Maybe he had some deal with DiGiovanni that they felt his talking to police betrayed, maybe he didn't. Maybe his family had gotten tired of his antics and seen to things, maybe they hadn't. There were too possibilities that she didn't have enough leads or evidence to narrow anything down. And she couldn't outright ask about Tang here -- that spilled into 'M. Hatterson' territory.

"People are gabbing about me taking a few days off of work?" Sam asked, unimpressed and a little confused as to why people would be talking about it, although she was very much under the impression that it was only Hero who was trying to talk about it. "I prefer to keep my personal issues out of things and I also prefer it when people don't attempt to make mountains out of molehills. Off the record? Me and my really, mind-numbingly painful menstrual cramps have no place in your 'human interest story'. You can believe that or not, but it's the truth." And it was the truth. Her cramps were mind-numbingly painful and they didn't have any place in the story. "'Stress leave' is the term the brass likes to use instead of 'female problems'. And me? I'm having female problems."

It was a sad fact that there were some people, some officials even, who still thought women should remain in the kitchens. And less extreme viewpoints figured women in the workplace should be in 'safe' positions such as typists and secretaries and waitresses and the like. Hell, Sam could've had an exemplary record -- which she had, at the police academy, and the six days she had been at work had been exemplary, according to Hero's homework -- and there still would've been officials touting whatever excuses they could to say a woman shouldn't be there. So of course those people had jumped on the mysterious stress leave.

"Off the record it is then," Hero conceded. And she meant it. Honesty and trust were important to her personally, but she couldn't do her job if she went back on her word. No source would trust a journalist with their anonymity and information if word was that journalist fudged quotes and couldn't even keep things off the record. "But since we're speaking off the record?" she ventured casually, because the curiosity thing went deeper than just her job, "Seeing as how menstruation is a monthly thing, how do you expect it to affect your job performance in the future?" She was certainly aware that the explanation could be little more than a brush off. If Sam's menstrual cramps were so bad, her record at the Police Academy certainly didn't show it. But it was also more than possible that, for whatever reasons, the severity of the cramps were a recent development. And if that were the case, Hero was honestly interested in hearing how Sam planned on dealing with both that and her job. Even if she couldn't report it.

"They're a recent thing," Sam said, taking a sip of her water. It was a careful explanation process here, one that she had to make sure was a good one, so Hero would just leave it alone. "I'm checked out, I have some medication, and it shouldn't happen again. It's just one of those things that happens. And our case load has lightened up some, so me not being in work hasn't been too much of a problem. With Jakob's 'street cred', some of, what I guess they like to call 'routine' homicides, the ones that are more or less open and shut? Aren't coming to us as much any more. We're doing more long-term investigations. So it's easier."

Hero let it drop for now. "Well, back on the record," she started, briefly only to wonder which question she should ask next. "I've noticed that you have bruises underneath your makeup. What's the story there?" She had noticed them earlier, but only held off asking them to ask about the stress leave first. But her mind returned to it now, and the question as usual came out directly.

With the stress leave question, Sam had braced herself for the question about her eye and she laughed, ducking her head and touching her hair. "My eight year old cousin and I realized the hazards of baseball. I'd rather the proper explanation be I was chasing down a perp and how you should see the other guy." Yeah. See the other guy. Sam was pretty sure that Johnny Tang was dead by now, hacked into a million pieces by someone who wasn't her.

Hero had no reason not to believe her there. Or, more, she had no reason to be any more wary about the answer. She knew human nature, and she wasn't naive enough to believe that everything every witness and interviewee had ever told her was truth. Hero could only work with what she had, properly quoting what she was given, and keeping the article itself as honest as could be. And if something later popped up to cast doubt or contradict something later on down the road? Then she publicly amended it. But right now Sam's answer wasn't sending off any warning sirens. Hero had damn good intuition, certainly, but she wasn't psychic.

"And your family?" she asked, taking a small sip of her now-cold coffee, "How did they react to your career?" It was a question she would've asked regardless of whoever Sam's family was. The family's or close ones' reactions were always important, especially when somebody was breaking a mold. It told either either what support or what challenges shaped a person.

Another laugh, this one even more genuine that trailed off into a sigh that spoke of long arguments. "My mother still isn't happy. She thinks I'm going through a phase. My dad wasn't too happy. My brother just put it off as one of those 'Sam' things. But after passing the detective exam, my dad was very proud of me and gave me an official blessing, which is nice. My mother wishes I was married, a nice housewife with kids and someday maybe I'd like to have kids, but not right now. This is what I want to do."

A bit of a goofy half-smile dawned; she liked that answer. Professionally she liked it for that casual honesty thing again; answers such as that were partly why she loved her job. It was for those candid moments that she brushed off or persevered through all the other crap. But on a personal note it was an answer Hero could more than relate to. Her friends and family had always been loving, but there were certainly some decisions of hers that they hadn't been to fond of (like, oh, the first time she told her mother she was dating a girl?). But, ever aware that this was an interview and not simply a personal conversation, Hero didn't dive into an 'I can relate' story. Or, you know, hit on Sam. That was definitely unprofessional.

Straightening up a bit to get a better glance at her notes, she appraised them silently. With the quotes, and general notes on Sam's behavior and how she moved about her place, Hero had more than enough for her human interest story. Unfortunately, that itchy feeling that had driven her to reschedule the interview for today still remained unsatisfied. But, for the moment, Hero Madison's hands were tied on that one. She didn't officially write about or blatantly ask about cases unless they spilled over into the realm of whatever piece she was working on. And there was no way she could bring up Sam questioning Tang as if it were relevant to the article -- because it wasn't. That was a subject 'M. Hatterson' was going to have to have his sources follow up on.

"Well," she smiled again, looking back up at Sam, "you'll be happy to know, I'm sure, that you're almost out of the hot seat. But," she flipped a sheet of the pad over to a new page, "I do have one more thing. The most important, in fact." Grinning, she gave herself time for an exaggerated dramatic pause before finally continuing, "I like to give the people I interview free reign over their closing comments. So, what words would you like to exit out of the article on? And, of course," she smirked, "officially end this interview with?"

Bullet properly dodged and now with the interview on the close, Sam's shoulders relaxed in relief. This was... definitely not something she ever wanted to do again. Never ever. "God, I don't know. I'm not a writer, I'm just a cop," she chuckled. "I'm better at shooting things than I am writing them down." She scratched her cheek, leaning forward to set her glass on the coffee table. "I'm really no one special. I'm just like any other cop." She shrugged. "I guess you could end with that."

The grin was wider; and although it certainly seemed on par a bit with her 'dialed up' demeanor, this wasn't exaggerated and wholly genuine. "I'd be more than happy to," she answered honestly, the grin slightly silly as she continued, "Cheek scratching and everything." With that she stood up, putting her pad and pen back in her bag and picking up her remaining cold coffee as she did so. "And interviewing you was a pleasure, Sam," she stated honestly and plainly, holding out her hand for a parting shake, "even though I won't be surprised if it wasn't mutual." Just because Hero would carry on questioning regardless didn't mean wasn't aware of being nerve-grating at times.

Sam stood and gripped Hero's hand in a firm shake. "You brought coffee and cheesefries. The least I could do was answer some questions. If I wasn't happy, you'd know it. I promise." She led the reporter to the door, unlocking the latches. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Oh, if only this had been a conversation in a bar. Or in a store. Or in Fontaine. Or in any non-work-related situation. "Only pick up a copy of the Echo this Monday," Hero replied, smirking. "I regret it might not make the front page. But between my writing and your looks I'm certain we could swing Page Two or Three," aaaaand there might have been a wink there. Yep. Well, technically the interview was over sooo... yeah. With that, Hero flashed another goofy smirk and made her way to the door.

She frowned a little. On the inside, anyway. That was. Weird. Was... she being flirted with? Brushing it off, Sam opened the door and smiled at her two guards. "Say good evening to the nice reporter, boys. She won't bite." The two Italians both frowned a bit and seperated, allowing Hero to be able to pass through. Sam grinned over at Hero. "I'll be sure to pick it up. I suspect that Jakob will have much to say over it," she chuckled.

Because it was always a good idea, Hero playfully made a teeth-baring 'grrrr' face as she stepped between the guards following Sam's 'she won't bite' comment. Again, they didn't seem nearly as amused by it as she was. Oh well, some people were just too hard to please. She grinned back at Sam from the hallway, "Good to hear. And I hope the Echo will soon again report on the cases of of its female detective." Of course, such cases weren't officially Hero's forte. But that whole 'Girl Power!' part of her certainly welcomed the Grand Return of the Female Detective to the 'boys in blue'. With that she happily half-jogged, half-bounded down the hallway, flashing one last super-wide grin at the bodyguards before exiting out.