No. Seriously.

What the /hell/ am I doing?

So! The date was scheduled, the time set, the restaurant agreed upon. And it's about 10 minutes after the appointed time that the cab pulls up in front of Natalie's apartment complex and instructed to wait for Ryan to return. As he exits the cab, spiffy in his neat (if somewhat worn) dark gray suit and white collared shirt peeking out from his open overcoat, he flips open his phone, finds Natalie's number and dials, rather than bother with the inscrutable workings of the intercom and buzzer.

Natalie answers the phone with a slightly breathless, "Hello?" There's a quietly tight undercurrent to her voice, nerves wound tight, and despite her best efforts she can't quite seem to keep them entirely under control. So instead she frowns through them, leaning back into the bar in her apartment. "Ryan? Where are you?"

"Sorry I'm a bit late," Ryan begins with, his own voice slightly wary, cuatious. "Traffic. Just reaching your building now -- I've got the cab waiting. Want me to come up to your door, or just meet me in the lobby?" Brief pause. "Because I'm good at the whole gentleman route, coming up to your apartment to pick you up and holding doors and the whole nine yards, but some women think that's chauvanistic and patronizing, I've found."

"Oh-- oh!" A nervous laugh slides through Natalie's voice, and she glances around briefly before scooping up keys and coat and purse and heading to the door. She's halfway to opening it before she processes the rest of Ryan's statement, and this time she laughs, sweeping loose hair behind her ear as she shrugs her coat on. "Gosh. Patronizing, really? --I'll come down, but only because I'm halfway there already. Be there in a sec."

"Really," Ryan says, seriously, before laughing quietly himself. "I have been told off about it on more than one occasion. But I'll see you in a sec." And counting that for a goodbye, he hangs up the phone, and settles his hands in his pockets for the task of waiting.

"Are you sure /that's/ why they were telling you off?" Natalie wonders doubtfully before she grins briefly into the phone and tucks it ino her coatpocket. It's perhaps more than a sec before she shows up in the lobby, bundled in jacket and red fuzzy scarf and hair left loose around her ears, but it's less than two minutes. The elevator dings open. Natalie steps out.

"I'm honestly never /entirely/ sure why women tell me off so often," is how Ryan greets Natalie, picking up the thread of the conversation with a wry smile as he steps forward. "I'm sure there's many reasons for each instance. But I was told that specifically by one girl I dated back in college -- Women's Studies major -- so I've tried to double check from there on out." He pauses, eyes taking her in. "You look nice."

"Some women are crazy," Natalie allows with a smile that is perhaps a bit self-depricating. "Although you should be warned that I won't put up with sexist shit-- I look /warm/," she laughs suddenly in correction, tugging her coat tighter. There's a pause, and then Natalie looks at him for the first time, and her eyes widen slightly. "I-- gosh. Ryan."

Ryan seems slightly wary of this strange, smiling and laughing Natalie, but he nevertheless sets his hand slightly behind her back, just barely pressing into the fabric of her jacket to guide in the direction of the cab and start walking this way himself. "I consider myself warned," he says, and then quirks an eyebrow. "Gosh, Ryan, what?"

Natalie startles a little at his touch, as if it is entirely unexpected - and so it is! - before she sets herself moving forward toward the door at a quicker pace than is perhaps strictly necessary. "Huh?" she says, distracted before she recalls herself. "Oh. Um. You're wearing a suit," she shares blandly.

"Oh," Ryan says, looking down at himself as though to double-check the veracity of the statement. "Yes. But I'm not wearing a tie." He lifts his chin to demonstrate the lack of tie, the top button of the shirt unbuttoned. "That makes it casual." Upon approaching the cab, he steps forward to open the door for her, since it is apparently allowed.

"I don't think that makes it casual," Natalie disagrees, turning to watch him check the lack of tie with a flicker of worry that disappears only as she ducks into the cab.

There's a pause in the conversation as he shuts the door behind her and then walks around the cab to get to his door, open it, and settle in, immediately pulling out his seatbelt and clicking it around him. "Does it make it casual if every /actually/ casual item of clothing I own is at least three years old and either has holes or child-related stains? This is about the only way I have of looking nice."

"Wow," Natalie comments dryly, studying him anew once he's settled. "You really know how to sell yourself, don't you?"

The cabbie has apparently already been briefed on the directions to the restaurant; as soon as Ryan's settled in, the cab starts up again and eases out into traffic. "I'll work on that," Ryan says, wryly. "I just didn't want you to feel bad over being more casually dressed." Though the jacket /does/ make it somewhat hard to tell what she is actually wearing.

Indeed it does! Impossible, in fact, although the sharp cut of neat black slacks (the sort some college girls may be inclined to term 'ass pants') is visible enough. "By telling me that you own no clothing that does not shout 'single, sloppy dad?'" Natalie teases.

Ryan laughs. "All right, that was a bad opening," he admits. "And I will make a note to go out and buy new clothes that shout better things. It's not as though I can't afford them. Did I tell you I'm an engineer?" His eyebrows raise, a smirky smile hovering on his lips. "How's that for selling myself?"

"Better," Natalie allows, and there's a hint of real interest in her eyes as she turns toward him a bit to allows, "You did tell me, but you didn't tell me what you actually do--"

"Construction equipment," Ryan answers, looking up ahead at the street for a moment of distraction and then back towards Natalie. "I'm in A&G Construction's research and development department. Cranes, excavators, dozers, and so on."

Natalie's gaze follows Ryan's forward before she glances back over to him. "So you build things that build?" she wonders.

"Hadn't ever thought of it that way," Ryan says, with a tilt of his head and an amused smile. "But yes, I do. And other things that knock down the things that got built, too." He shrugs. "And you just got your doctorate in math -- but I assume you must have been a little more specific in focus than just mathematics in general."

"I'm not done asking about you yet," Natalie states firmly, frowning over at Ryan before she asks, "So what'd you study to do that? Do you have a Masters?"

"Oh, all right, then," Ryan says, leaning back for a moment in his seat in surprise. "Mechanical engineering in my undergrad, and then, yes, a master's degree. My focus was on hydraulics -- fluid dynamics, that sort of thing."

"Huh," Natalie says, and after a moment she smiles slowly. A Masters isn't a PhD-- but at least he's smart. Point. "So do you like it?"

And it's /such/ a pain to get somebody to call you Master Hewitt, too. Dr. would be much easier. "I do," Ryan says, nodding. "It's good work. Challenging. The industry is -- really slow right now, but we haven't had any layoffs yet. And it's nice to be able to see a construction site and know that I improved the brakes on the excavator or the hydraulic cylinder on the crane so it can lift more. And I'm always in high demand for career week at the public schools."

That reply earns a slow, genuine smile from Natalie, an expression that comes with a considering smile as she gnaws on her lower lip. The last earns a brief laugh and she rolls her eyes. "That's a plus, is it?"

"It is!" Ryan defends himself, though he also laughs. "I mean, most jobs get a blank look from a five year old. They don't know what a human resources manager or a sales account representative does. But they do understand 'I build cranes,' and they think it's cool." The cab slows down, pulling over to the side of the road as the restaurant approaches.

"Is that a life goal of yours?" Natalie teases carefully.

"To be cool to five year olds? Absolutely," Ryan replies with a laughing smile as he reaches into his wallet to settle up with the cabbie. "Especially given the make up about half of the people I see outside of work -- or did, at least." His expression grows sober for a moment, though at least he has the cover of paying the cab driver and then unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his door.

Natalie's expression shadows for a moment, and she falls silent in reply as she slides free from her own side of the cab and rubs gloved hands briskly together as she hops toward the sidewalk.

By the time Ryan has walked around his side of the cab to join Natalie on the sidewalk, the darkened expression has passed, for the most part. "Is there anything else you need to interrogate me about or is it your turn, now?" he wonders as he steps forward to the door of the restaurant to hold that open, as well.

"I imagine I'll think of something else," Natalie assures, following him inside with no comment for the door-holding. She tugs her gloves off as she goes, shoving them deep into the pockets of her coat, and then tugs at her scarf to pull it free.

Ryan steps up behind Natalie to help her with her coat once the unwinding of the scarf is accomplished, hands settling lightly on her shoulders for a moment as he does so. "Well, while you're thinking, can I go back to the question of what kind of math? I know you do something that involves operating an MRI machine."

Natalie startles visibly at the touch of Ryan's hands at her shoulders, and she seems almost uncomfortable as she shrugs it down to her elbows and then lets him take it. Her top is simple, but classy. Satin the color of red wine curves close, wrapping around her waist to emphasize the narrowness of it and slanting down between her breasts to display a smooth expanse of skin. She clears her throat slightly and turns, rubbing one hand down her forearm. "Oh-- ah. That's not exactly what /I/ do, that's what /we/ do. Did. I work with patterns."

The sweep of Ryan's eyes is appreciative as he steps back, hooking her coat over his arm and then shrugging out of his own overcoat, looking around for a coat rack before the host steps forward to take the coats and be informed of Ryan's reservation. It'll be just a moment, and they'll be directed to their table. "Pattern theory?" he guesses. "Although I'm sure I'm going to embarrass myself if I try to talk much about any math that's outside of my direct areas of expertise." (re)

Natalie's sudden smile is both impressed and excited, and there's a sudden glow to her eyes that Ryan has not likely seen before. "Yes!" she answers with enthusiasm. "I'm impressed that you know the name, even - most don't. I do a lot of work with alogrithims for computer programs."

"We covered it briefly in one of my algebra classes, I think," Ryan says, making a face as he looks up and tries to dredge up memories of it. "Or statistics. I did have to take a lot of math, you know. Of course, now I can be lazy and mostly use the computer programs that smarter people than I have made for the drafting I need to do." The server arrives to lead them to their small table, up front near a window looking out onto the streetside.

"I know," Natalie answers briefly, and there might be a note of approval in her voice for that fact as she follows Ryan and their server forward. She finds herself distracted from conversation, instead looking about the restaurant as they wander toward the front.

It is a nice little restaurant! It declares that it is Peruvian cuisine, which means that there are many things on the menu that are familiar -- tostadas, enchiladas, fajitas -- as well as some more unusual offerings. Ryan settles into his own seat and takes a menu from the server, ordering some wine to start off with. "So -- " he says, a bit distracted himself. "I think we've covered the what-do-you-do portion of the date, at least."

Natalie eventually glances back toward Ryan, and she surpresses a quiet snicker of a laugh as she slides into her chair. "Does that mean that you're bored with me now?" she teases.

"Bored?" Ryan raises his eyebrows at Natalie and leans back in his seat. "I don't think I've /ever/ felt bored around you. It would take a major course correction for you to get to boring, now."

"I don't know, all in all, most people find my life /entirely/ dull," Natalie shares very seriously. She leans forward, opposite to Ryan, and rests her elbows lightly on the table. She considers him for a moment, lips parted as if to add something more, and then shakes her head a touch and lowers her head on a small smile to study the menu.

"Well," Ryan says, taking advantage of her study of the menu to study her. Since he picked the restaurant, he already knows what he wants. "They must not know you very well, I think. Or perhaps I just liven up your life. And incidentally, they're quite serious here when they label an item as spicy, so you might want to keep that in mind."

"I can handle spicy," Natalie answers quite seriously before she glances up. She snorts quietly and allows, "My life is maybe a little different when you're around."

"Maybe," Ryan repeats with a wry smile. "So since we covered work, what's next? Home town, family, what you do in your spare time, favorite movies?" He gestures with an open palm, indicating the plethora of first date conversation topics available.

"Gosh," Natalie says, her tone all 'golly gee'. "Aren't we quaint."

Ryan rolls his eyes, and dodges having to pick the next conversation topic by looking down at his menu and pretending to study it.

Natalie catches that roll of his eyes, and it sends her into amused snickers as she trails a finger down her menu page.

"Is there a story to go with your tattoo?" Ryan wonders suddenly, eyes lifting from the menu with a slightly mischevious glint to them. "And if so, am I allowed to ask about it?"

Natalie startles abruptly, her eyes widened in surprise as she looks up from her menu to catch Ryan's gaze. "My tattoo?" she wonders, and hesitates slightly.

"Or we can pretend I haven't seen it yet," Ryan offers, a one-sided smile tugging at his lips.

Natalie does not /quite/ blush, but it's a near thing as she reaches hastily for her water and then, lowering it after a sip, clears her throat. "I don't know that it's really a story," she admits, dropping her gaze once more to the menu. Hi menu! "My um. Ex was really-- you know. She was into stuff like that. We got them together."

"I see," Ryan says. And yes, he /does/ get an interested look at the feminine pronoun, an eyebrow quirking upward. "I think that counts as a story, even if it's not a story that involves escalating dares at 3:00 in the morning."

Natalie snorts quietly and glances up at him. After a moment she allows with a very small smile, "It's a repeating pattern. The butterfly wings. I designed it before we went in to get them."

"Well, see, that qualifies as interesting," Ryan replies. "I would have never suspected it was a mathematical butterfly." He's on the verge of saying something more when the waitress arrives to take orders. (He gets the chile relleno.)

"What sort of butterfly would you /think/ I'd get?" Natalie wonders with bright curiosity after placing her order. (She gets the enchiladas.)

"I was suspecting a story that involved more drunkenness, and just picking a butterfly from the display wall," Ryan admits. He takes a drink from his glass, and then adds, innocently, "I'll have to take a look at it again, so I can make sure to notice the repeating pattern that I missed before."

Natalie's eyes narrow slightly at that innocence, but she does not comment on it. Instead she says, "I try not to get drunk and make stupid, life-long sorts of decisions."

"Very wise of you," Ryan says, propping an elbow forward on the table. "Not everybody who makes it through college can say the same."

Natalie laughs briefly and shakes her head. There is a pause, perhaps a bit heavy, and then she allows, "I've made some stupid decisions while drunk. But-- none of them, fortunately, have been life-long"

"I've made one -- life-changing one," Ryan admits after a moment of thought, smiling wryly. "Fortunately not something I had to regret, though."

"Did you propose while drunk?" Natalie wonders with morbid curiousity.

Ryan prevaricates for a second, turning his glass around and eyeing the level of liquid contained therein. "No. Well -- the first time. But she said no, so that doesn't count," he admits. "The real proposal I was sober for."

That earns, perhaps despite her better judgement, a brief laugh and a flash of a grin from Natalie. "Alright," she allows. "So what was the life-changing one?"

Ryan takes being laughing-at with equinamity, but delays further answering the question, taking a sip of water. And then, oh, look, there's their food! Ryan thanks the waiter and then enjoys the distraction of unrolling his silverware from the napkin before answering, "Well. Rocket. I mean, it wasn't /entirely/ a decision made while drunk -- we'd talked about it before -- but I'd always talked about it with the intention of it being later on than it was."

"Are you telling me a story about how your son was conceived?" Natalie wonders with a morbid delight to go with her curiosity. "Goodness, Ryan. On a first date!"

"I had /no/ intention of this coming up," Ryan assures Natalie, and, indeed, his face starts heating up a bit and the tips of his ears turn red. "It just ... your food looks good! I've never had the enchiladas here."

"Very smooth, Mr. Hewitt," Natalie answers in an amused deadpan, and she slides her plate toward him a bit, offering, "Want to taste?"

"Thanks, Dr. Simon," Ryan returns, dryly. "I try." Not needing a second offer, he leans over to stab some cheese-and-sauce laden tortilla with his fork and bring it to his mouth. After washing the bite down with some water, he declares it "Good" and starts to work on his own food.

There is a bright flash of happy pride in Natalie's eyes at the name despite herself, and she grins as she watches Ryan scoop up her food. For a moment she remains like that, watching him, and then her smile shuts off and she nods firmly. "It is," she agrees, and eats.

Having been sufficiently embarrassed by the last conversation topic he brought up, Ryan works on eating in silence, gaze occasionally flickering up to Natalie thoughtfully before returning to his food.

There is a span of mutually ackward silence, kept from being something worse by the fact that they each have food to occupy them. Eventually Natalie glances up and flails a bit before settling for a meek, "So. Um. Hometown?"

"Scranton," Ryan answers, pushing a bite of food around with his fork and then glancing up. "It's -- about as exciting as you would think. Which is to say, not very. You?"

"Akron," Natalie supplies. "Ohio. Rather the same, only with more academics."

"And less coal-related activities," Ryan conjectures with a wry smile. There's a brief pause (there's only so much one can say about Scranton and Akron) before he says, "So. I think this is going well so far. As far as first dates go, anyway."

Natalie snorts quietly and tips her head, studying Ryan across the way. "Is it? You mean because neither one of us has made the other cry, yet?"

"Which is better than I was expecting," Ryan says, and laughs briefly. "Though I shouldn't count my chickens before they hatch, either -- night's not over yet."

"I could kick you under the table," Natalie offers with a glinting flash of her eyes as she grins.

Ryan scoots back in his chair, trying to look under the table in order to judge the pointiness (and potential kicking pain factor) of Natalie's shoes. "I haven't hardly given you a reason to do /that/ just yet," he says as he does so.

Natalie's shoes are boots, heeled and black, and she swings a foot toward his as he looks. "Who needs a reason?" she wonders serenely.

"Reasonable people," Ryan answers promptly, lifting his foot back to avoid the swinging boot and then attempting to trap her foot beneath his. "But then, I'm not sure if that's a category in which you belong..."

"Oh, see, now the insults start," Natalie retorts, but there's laughter in her voice and her eyes as her foot stills beneath his under the table.

"Only under the threat of kicking!" Ryan defends himself, his own expression lightened with a grin. His foot slides forward to hook behind her ankle and rest there as he takes another bite of his chile.

Natalie's brows shift up and then down, a bizarre-looking flutter of confusion and indecision before she bends her head to her food again, ignoring Ryan's foot against hers under the table. Entirely. "Well," she says after a bite, almost defensive. "You deserve it."

"I probably do," Ryan admits, resigned though still with a lingering smile. "Or if I don't know, I will later." The toe of his shoe slides upwards a little against the ankle of her boot.

Natalie startles and whips her gaze up toward Ryan, wide-eyed. "What are you planning to do to deserve it later?" she wonders pointedly.

Ryan seems taken aback by Natalie's startlement, eyes widening in turn. "I don't know," he says, gesturing vaguely with his fork. "Something. Just in general. I can't always be the perfect date, after all."

Natalie frowns slightly for a second, an internally-directed expression, before she breathes out and finds a small smile once more. "Is that why you're racking up points holding doors and taking my coat?" she teases lightly.

"Yes," Ryan answers promptly, relaxing at the teasing. "Storing up goodwill. Besides, holding doors and taking coats is pretty simple. It's just a matter of remembering."

"Well, I do see how that might take effort for /some/," Natalie murmurs around a bite.

"Fortunately for you, you're not on a date with some," Ryan replies as he loads up his fork with another bite. "And I can remember those sorts of things. Birthdays and important holidays, too. I'm very well-trained."

"Housebroken," Natalie supposes with sudden glee. "Like a puppy."

Ryan laughs around his bite of chile. "Something like," he admits, ducking his head. "Although I'd rather you didn't put it quite /that/ way. It sounds..." He can't decide on an adjective, and shrugs.

Natalie lifts her brows delicately, and waits for Ryan to finish. Smiling.

"Undignified," Ryan decides, lowering his brows sternly in response to Natalie's smile.

"Well," Natalie allows simply, and scoops up a last bite of enchilada.

Ryan looks up at the ceiling and shakes his head. In the interest of moving things along, the waiter is extremely attentive, arriving to clear the dishes away almost as soon as the last bite is taken and disappearing with a promise to return with the check promptly. "So dyou want dessert, or are you set?" Ryan wonders.

"I think desert might explode me," Natalie answers swiftly, before pausing and backtracking that answer in her mind, turning over various possibilities for things that question-and-answer could have carried without her instant realization. She coughs slightly and tucks her feet backward, ankles crossing under her chair. "I mean. That was good. Thank you."

Fortunately, Ryan seems to have posed the question in a somewhat literal-minded vein, simply smiling with amusement at the first answer. As Natalie tugs her foot back, he looks momentarily surprised, but draws his back under his chair in turn. "Well. You're welcome," he says. The waiter returns with the check, and Ryan pays with cash, pulling the bills out of the inner pocket of his suit after just a moment of mental calculation and then setting them in the folder and the folder on the table.

Natalie finds herself out of conversation once more, uncomfortable and a little awkward as she folds her hands over each other atop the table and watches Ryan.

The payment set on the table, Ryan rises to his feet and offers his hand to help Natalie to hers. "So. Should we quit while we're ahead for tonight and get you home or do you want to go to a movie or -- something?" He apparently did not plan this far ahead.

Natalie takes Ryan's hand after a bit of hesitation, but when she does it's with a firm grip, twisting her fingers through his as she stands. "Er," she says with a twist of a smile that flashes amusement at the trailing 'something'. "I don't know, Ryan," she admits on their way out. "Quite frankly, I have no clue what we're doing here."

"Well, we just went out to dinner, and now we're getting a cab," Ryan says, taking the literal route, as he steps out the door. "Look. We have -- really great chemistry, if you don't mind me saying. And I like you. I will ask you out again, and I hope you will say yes. But it doesn't need any more definition than that, not yet."

Natalie laughs quietly, turning toward Ryan as they step outside into the chill, bundled against the cold once more. "Great chemistry, huh?" she says, her words a bit dry. "Come on, Ryan. Don't you think this is all a bit--" She lifts one gloved hand in gesture.

"A bit what?" Ryan asks, not getting the gesture. Spotting a cab tracking slowly along the street, he steps forward and lifts a hand to hail it.

"Bizarre?" Natalie tries, and then shakes her head slightly and substitutes, "/Stupid/?"

"It's only stupid if you're not getting anything out of it," Ryan says, nodding in greeting at the cab driver and then holding the door open for Natalie. "And I enjoyed tonight, mostly. It was better than watching TV or working late or most other things I could have done. How is that stupid?"

Natalie stares at Ryan for a minute, and then sighs quietly as she slides into the cab without further comment for the moment.

Ryan walks around the back of the cab to open his own door, ducking in and giving the driver the location of Natalie's building. Rather than buckle himself into the seat directly behind the driver, he slides over into the middle seat and then looks at Natalie with expectant, upraised eyebrows.

Natalie buys a moment by scrubbing her hand up across her face and then looks over to Ryan, her lips parted to offer some reply. Except she finds that she still has none, and she ends it in a quiet sigh, a reluctant nod. "Okay," she says.

"Okay," Ryan says, moving slide an arm around her as the cab begins to wind its way back to her place. His eyes flicker thoughtfully to her. "Think you need more convincing?"

"Are you asking if we can make out in the cab," Natalie murmurs, turning into him slightly to rest one hand lightly on his upper arm. "Or if you can come home with me?"

"Make out in the cab," Ryan answers -- though it does take him a moment of thought to come to that decision.

That answer startles Natalie, and she leans back a little to look up at him with surprise in her eyes. "Really?"

"Not that going home with you wouldn't be nice," Ryan answers, his arm around her sliding down so his hand rests at the small of her back. "But taking a step back for now is probably a good idea." He leans in to press a light kiss to the side of her neck.

Natalie shivers slightly, tipping her head so that the thick, dark mass of her hair falls away from her neck. Her eyes slide closed and then open as she watches Ryan, quietly curious. "Why?"

"There's something to be said for being left wanting more, I think," Ryan says against her skin, breath and lips warm as he presses another kiss, moving up towards her jaw. "I need to get you to say yes to another date, don't I?"

Natalie swallows, her throat working under the touch of his lips, and she draws one hand up to cradle at the back of his head. "I thought I already had," she points out with quiet amusement.

"Well, you might change your mind," Ryan murmurs before moving his lips to her ear, teeth brushing against the lobe in a light bite. "And besides, I want to make sure that next time you take me home, you don't regret it."

Natalie shivers against him again and then makes a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. Her hand tugs against his neck as she turns her head, pulling him toward her so she can capture his lips with hers, eager and hot.

Ryan presses into the kiss with equal eagerness, one of his hands moving to the side of her neck to brace her against him, thumb brushing the side of her jaw, while his other presses into her jacket and moves slowly up her spine. There must be classes on "keep your eyes on the road" in cabbie school.

Natalie draws him closer, deeper, pressing into Ryan with little care for their audience. Her leg slides against his, hooking at the ankles once more, and her fingers curve at the nape of his neck. She breaks away breathless after some time and exhales a tiny laugh as she leans forward, pressing her forehead against his. "You're going to drive me completely mad, you know," she murmurs, letting her thumb stroke small circles against his skin.

"Sounds like fun," Ryan says with a low chuckle, pressing a light, shallow kiss against her lips and then leaning his forehead back against hers. "You're doing your fair share on my end as well, you know."

Natalie laughs again and closes her eyes for a moment before remarking dryly, "You would say that." She leans in slightly to kiss him again, a light brush of her lips across his, then across his cheek before she pulls back entirely and drops her hand from his neck to his shoulder.

The cab turns in to Natalie's apartment, and slows to a stop. Ryan sighs with brief resignation, glancing out the window. "Want me to walk you to your door?" he offers.

"That is such a ridiculously bad idea, and you know it," Natalie answers with an amused smile. She leans instead to plant a chaste kiss on Ryan's forehead and pulls back, following the touch of her lips with a light brush of the backs of her fingers in the same spot. Without waiting for much reply, she slides back, swings her door open, and slides out into the cold.

Ryan's fingers grip tighter on Natalie's coat as she swings her door open, but then release as he finds no rebuttal to her comment. "Goodnight," he says, leaning over so he can meet her gaze as she steps out. "See you soon."

Natalie huffs a breath of laughter and, in a rush of spontaniety, leans forward to press one final kiss against his lips. "Yeah," she breathes in answer, and then grins as she pulls back and eventually turns to hurry toward the warmth of her apartment building.

Ryan watches her go with a smile of his own and then sighs, sliding into the seat she recently vacated and instructing the cab on the directions to his place. His smile fades a little as he slouches back into his seat and the cab putters off into the night.
Date.