It's Friday night, and I'm fiddling with my arm warmers as I'm lounging on the sofa in the Abrams' den. Okay, so technically Artie and I are supposed to be having a "date" but a severe lack of transportation (as well as money) on both our parts has us essentially sticking to our usual routine. I might be dressed a little more nicely than usual (I'm wearing the new boots and a skirt without any obvious safety pins or rips—however my shirt is one I did modify myself and my jacket has studs, so it evens out), but for the most part, it's pretty not date-like in the slightest.

Well, except for the fact that my legs are resting in his lap. And his hand is absently rubbing along my knee in slow circles. Those actions are surprisingly date-like, and intimate. I can't say I mind too much though. We're watching Raiders of the Lost Ark together, determined to make it through all of the Indiana Jones movies (even the "dreaded fourth one" as Artie likes to say) over the course of the weekend.

By the time the movie's over, we've switched positions and Artie's resting his head in my lap while I absently brush my fingers through his hair. A quick glance at my watch reveals it's barely nine, and although I am interested in starting in on Temple of Doom, another part of me wants to do something a little different. I nudge him gently in the shoulder with my free hand.

"Hey, Artie," I say, glancing down to make sure he's not fallen asleep on me. "Let's get ice cream."

"Right now?" Artie sits up, looking vaguely interested by the prospect. "What made you think of it?"

"I did say we'd be having a date tonight," I remember, ducking my head for a second to make sure I'm not blushing too badly (I still remember what else happened that afternoon, too). "I know we're probably not going to do anything too crazy, but I could use a break before we start in on the double part of the double feature."

"And you want ice cream?" Artie's shaking his head at me in good natured amusement, even as he's busy resettling himself back in the chair.

I grin, delighted that Artie's going to go along with my idea. "Yeah, it'll be fun. It's not like it's a far walk and it's not that late and come on, it's not like we've never done it before. Think of it as an extended intermission."

"Just for you," replies Artie with a smile of his own. "You can even get extra sprinkles if you want?"

"How generous," I tease back, even as we're heading down the street toward the ice cream parlor.

"You'd get them anyway," replies Artie. "So if I say you can have them now then it makes me look better, and you're happy, so it's win all around."

I roll my eyes and attempt to look annoyed as we stroll into the shop. "Just for that, I'm keeping the maraschino cherry that comes with my sundae."

He frowns a little bit at that. "But you don't like them."

We order our ice cream and because the store is fairly crowded, quickly decide to take our sweets down to the park to enjoy them. Artie hands me his waffle cone to hold while he settles himself down on the grass, and I not so sneakily take a bite from it.

"Hey!" grumbles Artie as he catches me daintily licking some of the hot fudge from the top of his cone. "That's my ice cream."

"And here I thought you were being nice, giving it to me and all," I say. I kneel down next to him and delicately offer a bite from my caramel and strawberry sundae. The bit I've scooped has the cherry on it (which I know he likes best). I hold the spoon out apologetically. "You can have a bite of mine?"

I deftly feed Artie the ice cream, and feeling a bit daring, I carefully lick another bite of his cone before handing it back to him.

"Thief," grumbles Artie once he's swallowed. His cheeks are a bit pink though, and I suspect that mine are too.

"Like you really mind," I say, digging into my own sundae. "If it makes you feel better, you can have some more of mine?"

Artie doesn't respond, instead, he reaches his hand out to take a bit of the whipped cream from my sundae with his finger.

"Now we're even." I scoot next to Artie, and wrap one of my legs around his. This makes him smile, which has me beaming while we're quietly finishing up our ice cream.

The silence is comfortable, but a bright light from above shines in the corner of my eye, so I turn my head up to see what it is. "Look," I say excitedly, pointing up at the night sky, "it's a shooting star. Make a wish, Artie."

"Do I have to?"

I ignore the teasing whine in his voice, instead closing my own eyes, starting to recite Star Light, Star Bright under my breath as I make a wish of my own. It's silly and childish, but it's really pretty, and I already sort of know what to wish for, so I go ahead and take a chance. (Besides, my luck seems to be on a definite upswing these days, and I'm feeling daring.)

"So, what did you wish for?" Artie's poking me gently in the side, trying to get my attention again. He's still looking up at the sky.

"Can't say, or else it won't come true," I say, feeling glib. "I'd like to hope it was a star though. You can't really see them very well here because of all the other light pollution."

"Did you seriously just say light pollution?" Artie's tone is playful and I have a feeling about what he'll say next, so I quickly cut to the chase.

"Sometimes, I actually do pay attention in science," I say, smiling mischievously. Before he can start teasing me again, I lean forward and place a quick kiss on his lips. (Well, I intended for it to be a quick kiss, but when I go to pull away, he's the one deepening it and it's several minutes later before the kiss finally ends. I don't exactly mind.)

"See? I said dates would have more kissing." I'm trying to sound confident, but it comes out a little bit breathless. I settle for smiling happily, hoping inwardly that it doesn't look too dopey or ridiculous.

Artie leans forward to kiss me again, and I'm really okay with that.

When we break apart much later, we realize it's getting late and if we are going to get through the second movie tonight, we'd better head back to his house and get it started. We're quietly moving along together on the sidewalk just outside of his house when he stops abruptly. I pause mid-stride and give him a curious little look.

"So, does this mean you're my girlfriend now?" He asks, looking a little nervous and a lot hopeful. He's biting his lip nervously, even as he's looking at me.

I can't help it, it looks so serious and thoughtful, and I want to make a sarcastic quip. But if I do, I know he'll probably be devastated, so I instead perch myself in his lap on his chair, so we can regard each other eye to eye.

"Yes," I say, and he immediately looks relieved, which enables me to add in a sarcastic comment anyway. "Because I always make out with people I'm just friends with. You know me, Tina C., flighty with her affections like that."

Artie frowns at me. "Don't put yourself down like that."

"Then don't ask such silly questions," I reply. "People generally don't ask will you be my girlfriend, you know, Artie. Does that ever happen in real life?" Shaking my head, I smile giddily at Artie.

"How should I know? I've never had one before. " Artie's gaze narrows a bit at me curiously, even as he's flushing a bit. "For that matter, how do you know?"

"Because I read too much," I reply lazily, leaning back against Artie in the chair. "It's not like I've had any experience either," I mutter, also feeling nervous.

"So, Temple of Doom?" asks Artie, breaking the silence that's settled over us.

"Sounds like a plan," I say good-naturedly. I make an attempt to get up from his lap, but he takes my hand with his before I can start moving.

"I'll give you a lift." I shrug my shoulders good-naturedly and decide to go with it, resettling back into Artie's lap. The giddy happy feeling continues to wash over me, and I can't say I really mind it. Together we roll back into the den, eventually curling back up on the sofa together. We're cuddled up next to each other, and Artie's taken a throw from behind the sofa, wrapping us both up in it.

I'm half-asleep, relaxed and comfortable, but before I do close my eyes, Artie suddenly shifts and straightens, which has me looking up. "Everything all right?" I ask, concerned.

"Yeah."

I give him a bit of a pointed look, wondering if he's going to leave it at that.

"So, Tee…"

"What?" I ask, growing curious. "You can ask me anything, so spit it out already, Artie."

"Thanks."

I laugh, leaning back again against his side. "I have no idea what you're thanking me for, but you're welcome. Now be quiet, because the movie's just about to get to the best part."

Artie laughs as well, and complies.

I'm thinking that dating might not be so bad after all, especially when it's with your best friend. Feeling completely at ease, I realize that it would be very easy to get used to this. Artie must be reading my mind again, because he mumbles the exact same thing to me during a lull in the action sequences.

I decide to reply with a kiss, and well, let's just say that neither of us really paid attention to Indiana Jones and his escapades for the rest of the evening. (Not that that was a problem, necessarily.)

---

Author's Note: I meant to have this chapter up--oh, three days ago. But my desktop computer died and I was lucky to find the pre-edited version of this chapter saved on Gmail, and I went and re-edited it, but apologies if I didn't catch everything the second go-round. I have a laptop that I'm borrowing at the moment, and my desktop went into the shop today. Cross your fingers and hope that whatever made it not work can be fixed. (I'm serious.)

I still love all of you--especially the ones that send me messages and e-mails. They really make my day! I love responding to reviews and replies, so don't hesitate to leave either. (hint, hint.) Reviews are love, and so are all of you. :)