Martha's smile was no longer the cheeky, sly sort. She was enjoying herself--hell, more than just the flirty kind of enjoying herself--and it had been bloody years since she had done the whole dancing with a new guy who knew a little about her and liked her thing. (Which some people would call 'dating'. Martha preferred not to at this stage of the game.)

"Yeah," she agreed, and smiled at Nick, softly as she continued, "it is."