The urge to respond in kind is too strong for Jason to resist, though he's been attempting to stick to this relatively new policy of not trying to actively antagonize every person he meets. He smiles, not wholly pleasant or unpleasant but an easy, reflexive balance of both, and puts his hands in the pockets of his fleece.

"Was thinking about it," he says, mock-flirtatious, a manner that he's aware would better suit his usual attire. But then, she seems to see through it anyway.

Then a step forward, which still leaves a perfectly respectable distance between them, but wasn't strictly necessary for conversational purposes. "Can I buy you a drink?"