She sent a genuine smile to the glass of wine he handed her - she recognized the label, and loved this particular region for Pinot. To humor him, though, she allowed the scent to waft over the glass to her and then lifted it to toast his own drink, "What are we drinking to this time?" She asked, grateful in a weird way that he'd stepped around the topic of the explosion with such care. Her 'new' arm still bothered her sometimes, and she still had coughing fits some nights, but she was pretty sure the latter was just anxiety - her lungs were fine, but she could still so clearly recall the fear of not being able to breath.