There's something quietly gratifying about the way that he just lets her tug him around the rink. There aren't a lot of people with that kind of faith in her. Barton. Fury, maybe. But she can't see herself dragging either of those men out to go ice skating with her, and she can't see them accepting the hand.

The more time she spends with him, the more she realises that he really is one of a kind. "Neither you or me are most people," she points out, effortlessly edging them around a flailing couple without even looking over her shoulder to see what she's doing. "This isn't any more complicated than blowing things up. I could let go now, and you'd be fine."