"So far." There'd always been a point at which she wasn't any fun any more, she remembered, before, and she wasn't unaware that that had been before Prometheus made a wreck of her already fragile ability to deal with the world on its terms. That might've had something to do with why this wasn't a nice dinner date with someone who had a last name, a pulse, and any expectations about where it might be going.

(Then again, the girl did have a type.)