[ Maker, she really doesn't know what to do with this. She shifts her weight from one foot to another, finally bringing a hand around to drag over her mouth, as if her mind is distracted. It's a way to cover a grimace, to get a handle on her expression again because even if she knows in other contexts, how to reply to banter like that -- he doesn't mean it.

So, she sighs, changes tack. She can be a bit more on surefooting here -- it isn't as if she's entirely stupid, she's interacted with people who aren't vulgar and rude and function mostly on jokes. It's been a while, sure, but she's definitely done it. ]

I'm quite sure you do, serah.

[ But that is sarcastic, very doubtful in turn and she can't help the roll of her eyes. She does watch his reaction to her asking him to dance, an eyebrow raising as he looks -- well, genuinely befuddled. That's a pretty interesting response. ]

Then you'd follow my lead. You can mimic, can't you? Watch the way others are moving on the dancefloor and try not to step on my toes.

[ Hawke offers a hand then, genuinely curious if he'll take it. She wants to see -- what this man or whatever he is, is likely to do in response to such an innocent act. It's just a dance, and Hawke isn't doubtful of her own ability to lead them so. It's curious, really. ]