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[originallutece]

Rosalind Lutece

Doctor of physics, professor at Recollé University.

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[originallutece]

I'm not--

[Her hand darts down, her lips pressing tight together.]

It was just a, an old habit. I used to bite on my fingers as a child, it's just . . . an echo of that.

[roseblooms]

Oh. Like biting your nails? I see.

[That's not so very weird, really. And they're sharing things like that about themselves, anyway; it's nothing to dwell on, not really.]

Red and silver, I was saying. Or possibly red and black — colors we still have.

[originallutece]

[Now her hands have gone to grab her mug, both wrapped firmly around the ceramic, for the record.]

I should think a motorcycle not particularly expensive - especially not compared to a car. Do you know how to ride one?

[roseblooms]

I've never had one of my own, but I learned on someone else's. Sport bikes are fairly popular in Japan.

[She's right on track with his whims, though, and he nods a little eagerly.]

There would certainly be advantages over a car. I think the only major downside is I couldn't carry passengers and cargo very easily.

[originallutece]

One passenger, perhaps. But cargo . . . you'd have to plan around it. Or learn how to balance things very, very well. Still: how often do you purchase bulk items? I think a motorbike is quite a good choice.

Your go or mine?

[roseblooms]

Oh, um.

[He takes a minute, counting backward on his fingers.]

I think it's mine again, actually, on account of the bit about your fingers. So.

[He hesitates. This is...something, maybe. Asking for trouble. Or at least actively inviting it, which is almost as bad. But...]

If I do get one, I'd like to have you as a passenger on it sometime. Late, after midnight. When there's no one on the roads but the city is lit up, and the speed limit is more of a suggestion than a stipulation.

[originallutece]

[Her fingers tighten around her mug, but Rosalind smiles. If his invitation is asking for trouble, her smile is most certainly answering it; that's a smile that's just a touch too eager, as she leans towards him once more.]

You'll have to invite me again, when the time comes. But if you promise to, I promise I'll say yes.

[roseblooms]

[Oh. Well, then. That certainly is a way she's looking at him, all right, isn't it.]

Then if it comes to pass — I promise to ask you. You have my word...Rosalind.

[originallutece]

Good.

[She lingers like that for a few seconds, watching him openly, that same slight smile on her face. But soon she relaxes back, settling against her arm of the couch, and sips at her cocoa.]

Mm . . . I told you I can sing. I can dance, too, and play piano.

[roseblooms]

Refined skills. Will you show me sometime?

[He ventures, nodding slightly.]

these new icons tho

[originallutece]

Piano, certainly. Singing, perhaps, and more likely if you keep coming over so late. Dancing . . . that, I think, would take a very special alignment of circumstances, but nor is it impossible.

[A beat, and then:]

You'd have to show me your dancing skills too.

uses all of them just for you

[roseblooms]

Oh? You'll only consent to sing when it's late? Why is that?

[CASUALLY GONNA DODGE THE TOPIC OF DANCING HIMSELF FOR A MINUTE.]

[originallutece]

Inhibitions get lowered the later it becomes, haven't you noticed?

[roseblooms]

Only when there's alcohol involved.

...As, ah, as far as noticing goes, I mean.

[originallutece]

I don't know about that.

[She certainly knows what she's saying, though, as she murmurs all this. She's still smiling, but there's something a little distant in her gaze.]

You don't think someone is more willing to indulge in things the later it gets?

[roseblooms]

...I think decisions come easier when it's late. Something about the cover of darkness makes them...easier.

[But he's watching her now, carefully, tracking her expression.]

It's why people are advised to sleep on a notion, when it's something serious. Isn't it...?

[originallutece]

Yes. That, and time helps add perspective.

[A beat.]

. . . For example. I don't think I would have asked you over the first time if it hadn't been nighttime. Not because it was a bad idea, but because my own reservations were lowered.

[roseblooms]

[Hmmm.]

And would I be here now? If it weren't nighttime...?

[originallutece]

Yes.

[Now that they've done this a few times? Of course.]

At this point . . . yes, Christopher. I would have asked you over at any point.