They're together on an outing with the intent of furthering a romantic relationship. That's a date by definition. Tasha remains calm, tilting her head as she listens to him. She can't help smiling more as he goes on. He really is brilliant, and resourceful.

Then she's on the spot and she's not sure what to say. "I grew up in Russia." Which is in her files. "My parents died when I was a child, I don't even really remember them." Not her real parents, that is. The memories she was meant to think were her parents...no, she doesn't want to think about that. She'd much rather focus on him instead of herself.

"I like your hair." Tasha reaches out her hand that he's not holding, lighting running her fingers though his hair. "I like you." She smiles gently, shifting a bit closer to him. "I'm pretty sure you like me, don't you?" Tasha asks softly, her fingers still in his hair as the thumb of her other hand plays over his. He wouldn't be here if he didn't like her, and she wouldn't if she didn't like him. That much is obvious.