Whatever Betty was aiming for here, Ruth thinks the outcome is rather nice anyway, even if different from originally planned. She doesn't mind. She certainly wasn't planning on being in Betty's arms when they started to walk through the park, so anything she gets now —hugs, kisses, smiles— she considers a bonus, a wonderful surprise.

She lets her lips linger, lets herself linger just because she can. She doesn't want to pull away, not ever, almost like every kiss she breaks she's afraid some spell will be broken, or that every time she opens her eyes again she's going to be in her bedroom, dipped in pitch darkness, and this will have been nothing but a dream.

But Betty's still there when she pulls away, and even her smile has an airy quality to it, almost breathless. "Not enough data. I need to," she trails off a little, sighs against Betty's lips and cheek. "We'll have to keep testing. Too many... variables. We need more results if we want this to be a credible study."