"Alors, we must not aim too high," Athos replies at a deadpan, a smirk flickering at his lips. With a touch of a sheepish look, he extracts the flask he has brought from his jacket, and after taking a drink, he offers it to Tris. She will likely refuse, but it only seems right to share a drink on a comrade's birthday.

As for Athos, he is in particular need of the liquor to bolster his courage. He clears his throat after the significant swig of vodka leaves it a raw. "There is something I have been meaning to tell you."

Perhaps she already knows. Perhaps this humiliation is for nothing. But it seems only fair, somehow, to tell Tris of the changed nature of his relationship with Aramis and Porthos.