Entente Cordial

She placed a finger over his lips, frowning.

"Be honest--are you really concerned over being clean, or do you just want me to touch you longer?"

"Both." He said honestly.

She sighed.

"I promise you will be thoroughly clean."

He nodded.

"Okay. And then, you have to put on my pajamas!"

She nodded.

"Zen, you get tea and zen bed."

He nodded.

"Are you going to go home at night?"

She nodded.

"Yes, I have a hotel I am staying at until I find an apartment; why?"

"My couch pulls out into a bed, if you need a place to stay." He said, shrugging slightly.

She blushed.

"...Mister Datta, zere is no need for zat. I will find someplace to say soon enough..."

He smiled at her anyway.

"If you ever need help, I'm here for you."

She smiled shyly, grinning on the inside.

"...Well, it has been difficult for me, lately...many horrible things have led me to take zis job, you see."

He nodded.

"I don't have much, but I'll offer any help I can!"

She blinked, surprised.

"...But you live in a mansion. You are rich, right?..."

He hesitated, then nodded.

"Of course I am!" He said, laughing nervously. He had been kind of out of money since he hadn't been taking any jobs, but he was sure that wouldn't last long.

She smiled again.

"Zen in that case...I suppose you could help me a little bit..."

"Yeah? How?" He asked happily.

She sighed, placing the sponge down and grabbing a towel to dry him off.

"Well, you may be wondering what a lovely French girl like myself is doing in Britain."

He nodded.

"You don't seem to like it here very much."

She nodded, grimacing.

"I was here on my parent's request, for school--I was studying law at Oxford."

"So?" He asked, prodding. "Go on."

"Well, I got bored and dropped out," she said bluntly, drying off his shoulders. "Maman did not like zat, and I was kicked out of my relative's home and cut off from my spending."

"Ah, so that's why you're doing jobs like this. Why didn't you just become a prostitute, like the rest of your people?" He asked, smiling obliviously.

She glared.

"I am much too good for zat--I refuse to waste my looks and body on every hideous British man who cares to buy it."

"You could make good money." He said simply, shrugging.

"I refuse to stoop zat low," she insisted irritably. "I am too perfect to merely sell--zese looks are priceless."