The last time she'd seen that kind of smile and eyebrow raise, it had been Carla, wondering about Michael. Before that, it had been Carla wondering about Gray. And before that, well, Michael again. Carla didn't really believe that Cousin Michael was a cousin, and Nikita couldn't blame her.

"Fighting types?" Nikita replied, letting a little smile play around her mouth. "Dunno what you mean. I'm a waitress. He's a bike courier. No fighting here, unless you're talking about people who want yesterday's special today."

It had almost become a game to pretend she didn't know what Tris meant. It had started with her statement that she'd fallen down the stairs when Tris bandaged her arm and had just kept going. It was entirely good-natured on Nikita's part, at least, and she hoped it was on Tris's part as well.