Most of the touch Nancy had recieved in her life was cruel, or laden with ulterior motives. But for a beautiful woman to touch her so sweetly, to offer her so kindly to take her for a drink. Hell, to stop her to ask if she was okay, that was beyond the sort of thing that Nancy was used to at all.

But really, it was the touch to her hair that solidified it. Consider it a weakness.

"I do," she said needlessly, following Mab to the pub. She slid in to the bench across from her, her shoulders hunched forward. She doesn't offer information immediately, but it's here in the light of the pub that she can get a better look at her apparent savior. Beautiful, something about her... She wasn't human. Familiar, even. But only vaguely so. She didn't have her wits about her enough to try to place her.

"I'm sorry to have ruined your afternoon. You probably have loads of better things to do than sit in a pub with a crying girl." Everyone did.