She's a little dizzy with the easy affection and the ease with which he gives it. That annoying little voice in her head (her own, not Eros) is telling her that her Steve had never been this smooth and he'd had to learn it from somewhere, which is just another reminder of the gap in their lives; hers from losing him to now. His, from crashing into the ice and then waking up.

"They were bloody idiots," she announces with firm annoyance. "If you had awoken in 1945, the doctors would have had to fight me tooth and nail to stop me from being at your bedside when you woke."