Humming, herself, she reaches up, seemingly to smooth a hand over her hair, flustered, and comes up with a handful of bobby pins. Rather than just hand them to him outright, still selling the act, just in case, she puts her hand to his hip, pins palmed, and slips them into his pocket.

"I'm a ballerina," she answers, as if that wasn't answer enough. Like she wouldn't have a hairpin or two on her.