Nancy looked up at Killian with shining eyes, bright with adoration. "You always know what to say," she confessed, blinking. The curse had gotten her, understandably, more emotional than usual. Everything was closer to the surface.

But she'd take those words and keep them close. Write them down somewhere, maybe in her Book of Shadows, where she kept her experiences with magic and the supernatural. To help her learn. She had another where she jotted down spells as she learned them, but it was good to keep records of everything else. You never knew when you'd need an alibi, anyway.

She watched Killian's feet closely, moving along with him. She slid into the rhythm easily enough, only occasionally thinking too hard about it and fumbling. But she was an adept dancer, part of growing up where she had. There was always music in the den, and you couldn't stay for more than a few days before being forced to learn something. Fagin was an old Fae, and you went with it for fear of upsetting him.

"You're a good teacher," she told her partner, moving in time to the beat. A glance over her shoulder told her it was best to really get into it, so, she did, for better or for worse.