Her usage is ironic as often as it isn't. When it isn't, it does mean quite a bit to her. There aren't many people she genuinely considers friends; it's a small enough number to be counted on one hand, and several of those aren't here. It's a word that should mean something. They'd agree on that much.

She doesn't blink at the idea of someone Nida's age being an instructor. That's just as believable as the idea of Danny requiring Nida to go through his paces before he'd consider letting anyone claim that sort of responsibility. After all, he'd done something similar with her, too. If he didn't do the same thing with everyone that walked through the door of the dojo, she'd think less of him. Or rather, if he hadn't done. He's gone now. "Coworkers, then. I guess that makes us coworkers, too, then. I taught some here, occasionally. Nothing that formal, but still."

The smile gets an answering one from Natasha as she settles down, pulling out needle, thread and burlap patch to start working on the tear in the mat. "I wouldn't be surprised. I was usually in here at odd hours. I'm Natasha, by the way. I taught dance lessons, occasionally." He may recognize her name from the short roster Danny had kept up to date.