"Nice t'meetcha, Captain," said Zinda, offering a salute once her hand was returned. She grinned at the kiss- bold, definitely, but he had the charm to back it up. "And I'd say you prob'ly wouldn't believe me if I told ya, but considerin' where and when we are, I might as well go for it," she reasoned.
"I flew with a squadron called the Blackhawks back in World War II... or, the World War II back in my world. Crazy little thing called Zero Hour dropped me in the 21st Century. Then, of course, I ended up here. Somehow, an entirely diffrent world's a whole lot easier to get used to than it was to get used to the same one, sixty years later."
She took a sip of her drink after she finished explaining. "I won't blame ya if ya think I'm crazy, but I got the feelin' you won't, Captain," she noted, eyeing his style of clothing with a smile. "Normally, I'd guess your grandaddy gave you that coat, but since showin' up here, I've learned the simplist explanation is never the right one. Reckon Occam's Razor's gotten a bit dull 'round these parts."