Pretty well.

The hostess showed them to a table and they sat down. After the waiter brought water and menus, they began to discuss the food.

"Are you in the mood for anything?" Ryan asked expectantly. Jane flashed him a quick goofy grin then went back to looking at the menu thoughtfully.

"Hmm, I don't know. The shrimp carbonara looks good, but I'm also thinking about the manicotti. What do you recommend?" She smiled conspiratorially and added quietly, "...how was that?"

He put down his menu and sighed. "You know, you'd be a lot more convincing if you didn't constantly ask if you're being convincing." She nodded with mock solemnity. "Anyway, I'd go with the manicotti. They tend to overcook the shrimp here. Yes, yes, I know, you'll enjoy it no matter what, but we're trying to behave normally, right?"

She nodded. "Ok, yeah. Manicotti it is." She put down the menu. "So Ryan, I feel like I barely know you. What's your story?"

He took a long drink of his water and shrugged. "It's not that interesting, really. I can't say where I got the anesthetic, but I can say that I've been researching things like this for a very long time. I'm self-funded and I don't really do well in academic or institutional settings."

"So you're more like a hobbyist?" Jane asked thoughtfully. "So you did this to me without really knowing what would happen?"

He bristled at her description of his work. "Look, just because I'm not funded by some bureaucratic eggheads-"

She cut him off there. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that as an insult. Still, though, it seems pretty risky. What if something had gone wrong?"

"Nothing was going to go wrong. I can't tell you how I know that, but I do. Trust me, you're in good hands." He chuckled. "Not that it would matter if you weren't."

"Wow, that's pretty insulting. I'm not a moron now and I'd appreciate a little more respect if we're going to work together on this," Jane replied. "I don't think I care for the way you're talking to me. You're treating me like a guinea pig instead of someone with real thoughts and feelings."

He stared at her in shock and she broke out in a grin. "Look, I can't keep this up if you're going to stare at me like I grew a third eye the whole time."

"Sorry," he replied. "It's just... wow, you sounded so genuine that I thought for a second it had somehow worn off."

"You would be in so much shit if it did. God, if this somehow wears off you know I'm gonna kill you, right?" She idly played with her silverware while she described it. "All this shit with the massages and the cold water and everything, if I ever get back to normal you're gonna need to go into hiding. I'd go nuclear on you."

Before he could respond, a waiter came to take their order. They ordered a bottle of merlot and their meals. When Ryan said he wanted the lasagna, Jane frowned.

"Hon, don't you think a salad would be a little healthier?" She turned to the waiter. "I swear, getting this man to follow a diet is like trying to teach arithmetic to a donkey." He stared at her in shock for a second so she just sighed and waved her hand. "Fine, get the lasagna. It's not like you give a shit what I think anyway."

The waiter awkwardly excused himself, leaving Ryan staring at Jane. She giggled and shrugged. "I spent most of my life pissed off. I haven't forgotten how to be bitchy. That bit about the donkey was good, right?"

Ryan had an enthusiastic and slightly ominous smile. "This is... really interesting. Really good data. Thank you, Jane."

She flashed him a goofy grin and winked.