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There isn't much hair to lift, what there is hanging just above the shoulders, but she obediently pushes it up and out of the way, turning so he can reach.

"I do--it's really pretty. I've never had anything like it before. And--I mean, it's from you, so--that means a lot, too."

Credence feels his face burning, but he's smiling a little bit, too.

"I'm glad you like it," he says softly, and closes the clasp at the back of her neck. It puts them...very close.

"It suits you."

It does put them very close, but she's finding she likes very close. Very close is nice. So is the light brush of his fingers against her neck as he fastens the clasp. Shiro looks down at the pendant, at the weight against her chest, turning and looking up at Credence with a smile of her own, one hand lifted to brush against the necklace.

"You really think so? It's--I like it a lot." She likes him a lot, so it kind of works, doesn't it?

"Good. I - I'm glad."

He doesn't know what he would have done, if she didn't like it. He takes a breath and steps back, alongside her, starting to walk.

"It's - about ten minutes from here. It's not far."

He wouldn't have wanted to take her too far out of her way.

"That's fine," she says, falling into step alongside him. Her pulse is pounding maybe a little more rapidly than it should, but then, this is the first time she's done anything like this. It's a lot of firsts, but she's more excited than nervous, at this point. "I don't mind walking. This place--there's a lot to look at."

Shiro glances to the side towards Credence, hand still occasionally reaching up to brush the pendant around her neck, like she can't quite believe it's there. "This is the first time I've gone to a concert like this. For real, I mean, and not just. In a breach, or something."

"Me too," he says, quietly. "Back home, I used to hear people playing for money on the street sometimes, but - Ma always said music was wicked, even religious songs, she didn't want to hear it."

He very cautiously reaches out, fingertips brushing Shiro's.

"I want to hear this, now. With you."

The brush of his fingertips is a welcome surprise. It's not so often he initiates contact like that, and Shiro's always pleased when he does. This time is no different, and she carefully reaches back, slipping her fingers into his.

"Me, too. I'm really glad you invited me. It's always nice, doing new stuff with you. Or just--being together," she says. "I really liked the last time we listened to music together. Dancing in the record store."

"Yes," Credence says, smiling at the floor at the memory. Until they'd reconciled, that memory had sat bitter and hard to think about, like a bruise. "Maybe...I don't know if it's that kind of place, or that kind of performance, but we might be able to dance again? Tonight?"

Where people could see them.

"I'd like that a lot," she says, brightening at the idea. It might not be that kind of place, or that kind of concert, but dancing with Credence again is definitely something she wants to do. The memory of that day--she'd tried not to think too much about it, the last few weeks, but it's been difficult. A surprising number of things make her think about Credence. It's good that she can think about those things again, and not feel sad, or disappointed. "You're--a good dancer. I had a lot of fun. It'd be nice to do it again, if we can." Whether or not people are watching. And if they are--well, she doesn't mind if they see.

"Am I?" he asks, surprised. "I mean - you are, too, you're very good. I was just...following your lead. I was learning from you."

"I just started learning. Maybe it's just--we dance really good, together." She flushes a little at the words, but stands by them. Some things just work better when you're with the right person. "Like--when we're in the kitchen cooking, you're never in the way. It just--works better, with you. Maybe dancing's kind of like that, too."

It's selfish, definitely, but he likes that idea. That things just...work better, when they're together. In the kitchen, or dancing in a record store, or...right now, walking to their first date.

"I think it must be."

And he squeezes her hand, very gently.

His agreement makes her heart leap, makes the quiet, bubbly feeling in her stomach feel a little fizzier. It's good to know he feels the same way. Good to know he wants to be here, good to feel the pressure of his fingers in hers, and she squeezes back, smiling at him. In this moment, she doesn't regret anything. For as much as the barge has taken and hurt, at least it's given her--given them--something like this.

The strains of distant music barely brush her ears, and Shiro looks away from Credence, away from their linked hands just long enough to search their surroundings. As much as she enjoys this part, the walking, the music is something she's been looking forward to as well. "Can you hear it? Is that where we're going?" She sounds excited, she knows it, but that's because she is.

"Yes - just across there."

The bar, completely unbeknownst to him but perhaps explaining the attraction, is very similar to the higher-class speakeasies operating underground in the New York of his home. There's a jazz pianist warming up the crowd, a number of circular tables, a few smaller booths - a dance floor. It's an eclectic crowd, from across time and space, some human and some not.

But everyone looks like they're having fun.

Shiro's eyes take in the entire scene, the juxtaposition of aliens in what looks like a movie set of a bar from a time before she was born. It's not jarring, though; somehow the scene just seems...right. It's right for it to look like this, for the people filling it to be there, for Credence and Shiro to be there. Curious eyes flick their way for a moment, interested, but it isn't every eye and none of them stay for long. Here, everything is normal, Shiro realizes, and the thought takes any remaining tension from her.

Still holding Credence's hand, she makes her way into the room, looking towards the pianist on stage whose hands seem to dance across the keys. "This is really cool," she says, a little awed. "I wish I could play like that."

"You could learn," Credence says, relentlessly optimistic if only on her behalf. "I'm learning magic. You can definitely learn how to play - jazz music."

"You think? I'm doing okay with sheet music, I can read the notes and play, but--jazz is different, I think," she says, but she doesn't sound doubtful, just considering. "I think it might be fun to learn, though. And if I practice more, maybe I can play without music, like that."

She smiles at him, happy to be there, to be able to talk to him again like this. "Is--I mean, how are magic lessons going? Are you still working with Quentin?" She does remember him saying that, before.

"Yes. And - Mister Scamander, a little. And I'm doing things on my own, with books. I found a lot in the library, they're - schoolbooks from my world, I think."

The reality of the education he never had is depressing, but he tries to stay optimistic. At least he can get it now.

He does a good job sounding optimistic, at least, and Shiro's happy he's getting a chance to learn and use his magic, instead of hiding it away. It's a wonderful thing, and he shouldn't have to keep it all out of sight. "That's great," she says, and if she sounds enthusiastic for him, it's because she is. "I'm glad you're getting to learn. Maybe, sometime--you can teach me something? Not magic, I don't think I can do that, but maybe something about it."

She's quiet for a moment, considering the idea. "Cold said maybe I should think about trying to take this test, like a high school replacement. A GED, he called it. But--I don't know. Only time I've ever been to school was in breaches. I don't know. It's good to learn new stuff, anyway, I think, even if it's not for tests."

The pianist finishes their song with a flourish, and Shiro lets go of Credence's hand so she can applaud with the rest of the audience. She still faintly remembers the feeling of being on stage from the last breach, but it's different, being in the audience.

Credence applauds, too, and the pianist rises from her stool to give a bow. When it dies down:

"We should - find somewhere to sit?"

Maybe later, they'll be on their feet, they'll - dance. But he'd like to sit with her, now.

"Oh--um, sure." Sitting sounds fine, and maybe later they can dance. There's space for it, after all, and maybe enough people will be dancing that it feels less public--not that she minds so much, but maybe Credence will be more comfortable. But for now, she scans the room, eventually pointing to a nearby booth with a good view of the stage, but reasonably secluded from the rest of the room with its high back.

"There, maybe?"

"That's a good place."

It gives them a good view, and they're close to the dancefloor, but they're not...exposed. The moment they've sat down a waitress in a short black dress and white apron appears, asking if they'd like a drink, and Credence swallows nervously and orders a soda.

Shiro orders a juice, and the waitress smiles and leaves them to go fetch the drinks. It's sort of a strange feeling; she's done this before--the ordering part, not any of the rest--but it feels different in a place like this, and with her current company. She feels--older, maybe. Just different.

"This is--I kind of like this place," she says after a moment, looking around. "It's kind of like a movie, you know? With all the different people here. I guess we're in it, too." Silly, maybe, but it does feel kind of unreal. Smiling, Shiro offers him her hand again. It's just nice, being able to touch him again, and she'd like to do more of it.

Credence smiles in his typically modest, secretive way - eyes down, head ducked - and puts his hand over hers on the tabletop.

"I've only seen a couple movies," he admits. "But - I think this would be a good one."

Better for her being in it.

He's got a nice smile. Sometimes she thinks she'd like him to not look so guilty about it, to know it's okay to be happy. Maybe he will, eventually. "I think so, too." It's better for having both of them, together. She's pretty sure it wouldn't be the same, otherwise.

His hand covers hers and her fingers brush against his palm, feeling scar tissue. It's different from her own, but still familiar enough to almost be comforting. "I know I said, but--I'm really glad you invited me. I really missed--spending time with you. You know?" And he remembered how much she enjoys music. That means more than a little, too.

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