That smile of his slowly infected her. The tension in her slid down, away, crawled into darkness, and left her standing with him in this strange corridor, feeling far less alone than she had before. She took a step. then another when one just wasn't enough.
His corporeal form was far taller than hers. She was smaller in stature; people had been smaller in stature, in her day. When she leaned her head against him, it meant listening to his heart. Her eyes closed. Finally, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held to him -- not tightly or desperately, but in the same way she'd done after dessert in New Orleans.
"I'm a git," she said, her voice carrying some mirth to it.