Love was both the best and the worst thing that had ever happened to him. Killian wasn't sure that he'd be the same man if he had never lived it. It'd made him a better man, then, but age and distance had soured what had once been quite beautiful. It was hard to remember the good parts of being in love when he had spent so much more time mourning it.

Still, Nancy was young. Maybe there was hope for her. The world had never been terribly kind to him, wrenching away everything it ever given him only after he'd had long enough to mourn it when it was gone. Granted, the world did not seem to have been terribly kind to Nancy, either, but perhaps he had it in him to hope better for someone else.

She did seem to take to the steps quickly, and he thought that she might. It would have been a fools errand to take a completely graceless girl dancing, but he never thought Nancy to be such. She took the steps quickly and he did his best to guide her, even managing something perilously close to a grin as she started to get more confident. "A grand teacher and a grander student," he declared, and as she found the beat and the wild air around them, he didn't think too much about bringing her closer and doing the same. Salsa was a dance of life and fire, and he didn't have much of that left in him, but it was nice to pretend on occasion. They were a bolt of red and black on the floor, and hopefully in the end, she wouldn't think him a poor date.

He'd taken too many girls out in his three centuries to be a shabby date.