Steph isn't anything like the USO girls, and Steve's rather glad about that. Not that they weren't ... nice. That is, they had really nice attributes. And he means more than just the outfits that showed off their great curves and shapely gams, because he still can't admire a woman without turning pink and feeling the need to apologize for himself. Steph's from the neighborhood, like Peggy. Despite Steve's ability to be a complete heel in the company of remarkable women, it's inescapably comforting.

He bobs his head. "It's only been a few months for me. I thought it was, uh. Normal." That one's hard to explain without getting into the seventy-year nap that landed him in the future. "Part of my new station. Guess that tells you something, huh?"

His lips screw up in a hapless grin. He watches her muss her curls. Even that is strangely comforting, but for different reasons. "I was walking through a revolving door, and suddenly: bar."