"Vodka seven, please," Nikita ordered. It was her standard order, and she requested it with varying amounts of vodka and seven depending on the situation. This time, she suspected the bartender would make it with more seven and less vodka to save money, and that would be fine.

She settled in with her drink at the table she would have chosen, and she might have smiled that he'd chosen the same one. There was a professional suspicion that didn't really end.

Once they both had their drinks, she sipped hers (weak, as she thought), and looked at him calmly.

"Alright. Where are we starting this interrogation?"