"Good luck with that," she teases, and tucks into her salad.

As for the steak, well, as delicious as it is, she's not nearly as valiant as Bill. She's willing to concede defeat a little more than halfway through, breathing a soft sigh of contentment.

"Mmm, god, that was good."

She tips more wine into her glass, the simple movement sending images of the night she and Bill spent with Beckett in Provence flashing through her mind's eye; she takes a slow sip to hide the sudden flush in her cheeks.