Dory kept her face as neutral as possible as he told her about his occupation and how he got there. “No, not at all glamorous. But someone’s got to do it, hadn’t they?” She’d learned a long time ago not to judge books by their covers. People were far too complex to say that they were just “good” or “bad”. Besides, anyone with eyes could see that in no way did Stanley relish his job. She’d never seen anyone so broken and downtrodden as the times he had to dole out punishments.
"You need more self confidence," she said at last. "There must be something you’re good at. Something that you enjoy and makes you happy." She picked up her glass and took a small sip as she looked around a bit, pretending to be seeing things for the first time. "I’m glad that you have a friend who looks out for you," she said as she looked back at him. And she was, too. She didn’t know Lile very much (or at all), but she was glad Stan had someone besides Door.
The blonde looked down and smiled as he took her hands in his. She couldn’t decide if they were smoother than she expected or if her hands were just that rough. Either way, she lightly stroked her thumb against the back of his hands as she contemplated her next words. “If you’d like a hint about the flowers, I’ve always been fond of ‘mums. No one expects that I like them, but there’s just something there that always makes me smile.”
"Hmm… what I do…" she said playfully. Inside, she was frantic. She’d never thought about things like that. What did she do? Why would her hands be so rough? Why would her sleep schedule be so strange and why would she be seen so very rarely? What on earth could possibly meet those needs and be a position held by a woman? "That’s classified. I could tell you,” she teased. “But then,” and here she gave a great sigh, “I’d have to kill you and I didn’t dress for murder today when I left the house.”