Nancy's all giggles as she finds a place on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. They can be gross and young and in love tonight, she doesn't care. The proprietor of The Three Cripples certainly doesn't care either- he's watched Nancy grow up and is close enough with Fagin that he lets her do what she wants. If other people have a problem with it... Well, sure, she works here sometimes, but this is a private party. Aaaaand she's drunk enough that she really doesn't care about Cesare's advice or warning or anything about Cesare Borgia because he was a raging piece of shit.

In case anyone was wondering, she still had the bruise on her arm from where he had grabbed her.

"Good," she promises him. "You should be. Here!" She pushes her glass of whiskey towards him. "Drink mine! I'll get another!" There wasn't really a dance floor, but there was music, and someone was drunk enough that she didn't care. Just let her be nineteen for a night, please.