[ She turns, and he's holding out his coat, insisting she take it. Rachel draws in a breath, her lips ready to form around the usual polite words of protest... but it's cold. She reaches for it, shaking it open to shrug it on. ]

Thank you, Damon. I'm not really used to this kind of cold.

[ She stops short, her gaze drifting, but try as she might, she can't grasp at anything more than that fleeting thought. It's true, but she doesn't know why, doesn't remember being in Los Angeles, nearly never leaving California since she was born, not ever seeing this kind of winter.

She shakes her head. ]

I don't know why I said that.

So memories do start to come back. I guess I have something to look forward to. Unless they need to be prompted by recognizing someone you know, and then I may be screwed.