Page 4

CHAPTER 4

JACK

T he Twin Oaks Museum of Natural History looms before us, its granite facade catching the moonlight. My access card beeps against the reader, and the door clicks open.

"Are you sure we're allowed to be here?" Vanessa whispers, her breath visible in the February air.

"I have special privileges as faculty." I hold the door, watching her hesitate. "Most humans prefer restaurants for initial courtship, but I thought this might be more... illuminating."

She raises an eyebrow. "Most humans? You say that like you're not one."

My pulse quickens, but I laugh it off. "Occupational hazard. Anthropologist, remember?"

The security lights cast long shadows through the dinosaur bones in the main hall. Vanessa's footsteps echo against the marble floor as she approaches the T-Rex.

"This is definitely different," she says, but her eyes sparkle with interest. "I haven't been here since that field trip in third grade."

"What do you remember from then?"

"Mostly that Tommy Peterson threw up in the planetarium."

I guide her toward the anthropology wing, my hand hovering near the small of her back but not quite touching. "And now?"

She stops at a display of ancient tools, pressing close to the glass. "Now I'm thinking this is either the most creative first date I've been on, or you're planning to murder me, like some kind of nerdy Patrick Bateman."

"If I were planning to murder you, I wouldn't have chosen a building with security cameras."

Her laugh echoes through the empty halls. "You've really thought this through, huh?"

"I find traditional dating rituals limiting. Dinner, movies, small talk about the weather." I wave my hand dismissively. "How can you truly know someone over breadsticks?"

"So instead you bring them to a dark museum after hours?" Her smile grows wider. "I have to admit, it's working for me."

I lead Vanessa around a corner where I've set up a small table near the closed snack bar. The security lights cast a soft glow over the cheese plate, crackers, and bottle of wine I'd arranged earlier.

"You really did plan this out." She runs her finger along the edge of the table. "Should I be impressed or concerned that you've got food smuggling down to a science?"

"The guard and I have an understanding." I pour the wine into plastic museum gift shop cups. "He gets the leftover cheese."

"Bribing security? Professor Tanner, I'm shocked." She accepts the cup, her fingers brushing mine. "What other rules do you break?"

"Only the ones that don't make sense." I gesture toward the nearby evolution exhibit. "Like the idea that first dates require awkward small talk over overpriced meals."

She takes a sip of wine, studying the display case of early human tools. "So instead you prefer awkward small talk over stolen cheese?"

"The cheese was legally purchased." I pop a grape into my mouth. "And I find nothing awkward about discussing human mat- dating rituals while surrounded by our ancestors."

"There's that 'human' thing again." She moves closer to examine a Neanderthal skull. "You talk like you're writing a research paper."

My heart rate increases - a physiological response I'm still getting used to in this form. "Professional hazard. Sometimes it's hard to step out of observer mode."

"And what are you observing now?" She turns to face me, challenging.

"That you're more relaxed here than you were at the coffee shop." I step closer, noting how her pupils dilate. "That you prefer direct questions to social niceties."

"Questions like…?"

I stop myself for a moment, thinking my next words through before I say something I can't take back. It's too early to tell her how bright here eyes look, for example. Or how soft I bet her lips would feel against mine.

"Why do humans place such emphasis on shared meals during courtship?" I ask, watching her reaction carefully. "The biological need for sustenance seems unrelated to pair bonding."

Vanessa laughs, a genuine sound that echoes off the ancient artifacts. "You make it sound so clinical. But honestly?" She takes another sip of wine. "I've never thought about it that way. Maybe we just need something to do with our hands while we figure out if we like each other."

"And have you figured that out yet?" The words slip out before I can analyze their implications.

"I'm still deciding." She moves to the next display case, but her smile gives her away. "What about you? Any other burning questions about human behavior?"

"Why do couples exchange hearts as symbols of affection? The anatomical organ bears little resemblance to the stylized version."

"God, you really don't let up, do you?" She turns to face me, her eyes bright with amusement. "Most guys just ask about my zodiac sign or what I do for fun."

"Would you prefer that?"

"No." She steps closer, and my enhanced senses pick up the slight increase in her heart rate. "It's refreshing. You actually listen to the answers."

The warmth in her voice triggers something in me - something dangerous, something beyond mere scientific curiosity. I shouldn't be feeling this pull, this desire to understand her specifically rather than humans in general.

"What about you?" she asks. "Why are you really so interested in how relationships work?"

"Perhaps I'm trying to understand why they so often fail." I move to stand beside her, close enough to catch the scent of her shampoo. "Why humans keep attempting them despite the statistical improbability of success."

"Wow." She lets out a soft breath. "That's... actually exactly what I've been wondering lately."

The security lights flicker, casting shadows across her face. My mission parameters flash through my mind - observe, document, maintain distance. But the way she's looking at me now makes those parameters feel like arbitrary restrictions rather than vital protocols.

"And have you found your answer?" she asks.

I realize I'm standing too close, caring too much, risking too much. But I can't seem to step away.

This is a dangerous road I'm walking down, but I'm simply too stubborn to veer off of it.