Cole listens to her speak, face neutral, and he waits until she's finished to react. When he does, it's to look up at her, one eyebrow raised in something edging towards amusement.

"Human taser," he reminds. He lifts the hand farthest from her and lets electricity crackle over it, and maybe Nikita can feel it reverberate like a lightning strike across a field, in the hand on her shoulder.

"No matter what's thrown at us, I think we can handle it." Unlike Nikita, Cole isn't used to measuring his words. The 'us' slips right out.