Melanie's stronger than she looks, too, so that isn't much of a reassurance. She drops her hand from the wall and links her fingers together behind her back, as if in weak imitation of being handcuffed.

She's still not sure about this dream stuff, but regardless of what's really going on, all that's happening so far is this man talking to her. If things continue in this vein, that wouldn't be so bad. She doesn't want to hurt him, and it seems she doesn't have to.

"Melanie," she answers. "My name is Melanie." Her eyebrows quirk as she looks up at him and repeats, "Aziraphale?" That's like nothing she's ever heard before. She silently mouths the name to herself, committing it to memory. Then, with careful good manners, "It's nice to meet you." She hesitates for a few long seconds, then takes a few steps forward, halts, and gingerly extends a hand, like she's seen adults do when they meet one another.