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Maisie likes to think she and Reece make a good team. Despite all his quirks—irritation, neuroticism, and love of all things spooky—he’s a genuine man who once spent two weeks converting a dollhouse into a haunted house. For Maisie, who grew up watching him on The League of Gentlemen (even when she probably shouldn’t have), he remains a huge inspiration.
It’s no wonder that Maisie is terrified of disappointing him. Fear pools in her stomach like ice, twisting with every imagined mistake; each moment is laced with her desperate need for his approval, the dread of letting him see her falter snapping at her heels.
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The day before, the two of them completed a very strange task (though aren’t they all?), and they were awful at it. Opening the envelope, Maisie read:
Steal the statue of Archimedes.
Despite Reece having once played a burglar on Inside No. 9, his approach was unexpectedly... interesting, leading him to make rash decisions from the conspicuous black van. The pair maintained their cover as lost guests and birds darting to and from where the statue was kept.
“Reece,” Maisie started, her voice filled with thinly veiled irritation at this task, “Why are you always taking that umbrella with you? Alex isn’t that stupid as to not be able to see through a transparent object.”
Turning to face her, Reece replied:
“Haven’t you noticed those clouds? It’s going to rain sometime soon, and I paid too much money for this coat to have it ruined. It’s the Withnail coat, I’m not going to let it get sullied by rain!” Reece spoke in his strong northern accent, with his usual matter-of-fact tone, somehow irritated even at the thought of his prized outfit being ruined.
“No, of course I haven’t had time to look at the fucking clouds, I’ve either been sitting in this van or running ‘round like a lunatic trying to get this Archi-what’s his face”, Maisie said.
“Archimedes.”
Maisie snapped, “Fuck off,” and rushed out to try again.
Unfortunately for her, as soon as she took one step outside the van's safety, she felt raindrops on her skin. She left her leather jacket behind because all the running around was making her quite hot and sweaty, even though the weather was starting to get colder. When she woke up this morning, she felt a bit warm, but it kept getting worse throughout the day.
‘It’s fine,’ she told herself, ‘I’m from the Dip, I’ve dealt with weather way worse than this in my sleep, and much worse stuff...’
But the rain quickly grew into what felt like a torrential downfall. By the time Maisie returned to the van, she looked like she’d been dragged through a very wet bush backwards—probably because she had been. Her heart crashed against her ribs, her breath catching as Reece turned to look at her; his eyebrows furrowed deeply, jaw clenched ever so slightly. Heat prickled on her damp skin, and anxiety bloomed in her chest, leaving her small, exposed, and aching under his sharp, silent gaze. Every muscle braced for his disappointment.
Maisie winced, bracing herself for his reaction.
“Christ, Maisie, I told you it was going to rain. Why didn’t you put your jacket back on?”
‘Oh no, I’ve really started him now.’ She thought to herself. She needs to distract him.
Reese was about to start a tirade before Maisie spoke up, thankfully stopping him before their task attempt derailed completely:
“Well, there’s no point in both of us getting wet. So, how about you stay here and signal to me whenever Alex is away from the statue, and I go out again and try to get it? Switch it up a bit, yeah? You can be the bird this time.”
Reece agreed, reluctantly, and Maisie braved the elements again. And again. And again. At least she got to hear him do a terrible bird impression.
At one point, she fell into what was becoming a very large puddle, and by the time she and Reece were being driven out of the grounds, Maisie’s clothes and hair were soaked. It feels like she was trapped in an iceberg for thousands of years; she was shivering so harshly in her Sandy cosplay that Reece could hear her teeth chattering from across the van. He scrutinised her over his glasses, before giving in to his favourite habit of pushing them up his nose:
“Are you feeling quite all right, Maisie? You look a bit...soggy, shall we say.” Maisie pulls her jacket tighter around herself.
“Will you be quite right getting back to your hotel room? I’m worried that if you spend one more minute in that rain, I’ll end up finding you face-down in a puddle in the morning.”
Maisie finally spoke, “Honestly, Reece, I’ll be fine, a bit of water never hurt me. Now, c’mon, we need to discuss what we’re going to do tomorrow. Do you think we should come up with some sort of team name?”
They talked about mundane things and the like. But Reece noticed on the drive back that Maisie would gravitate toward him, almost as if she were trying to absorb his body heat despite the fact that she was half a meter away from him.
Maisie and Reece were staying in the same hotel for filming; her room was on a higher floor. Even as she insisted she was fine, just wet, Reece walked her to her room, clearly unconvinced.
As soon as they were dropped off at the hotel, Reece brought out his umbrella, which he definitely didn’t steal, and used it to walk both of them to the front door. The hotel wasn’t anything fancy, but it was nicely decorated and didn’t fuss. Without asking, he escorted her to his hotel room, walking just a couple of paces ahead of her, and stopped when they reached her room, number sixty-three.
Reece cleared his throat and began, "Right. Hot shower, please, then dry off properly. I need you in top form tomorrow—we can't be humiliated any further by that prick."
Maisie nodded, they wished each other goodnight, and Reece started to walk away.
Suddenly, Reece hears something.
A small, almost unnoticeable sneeze rang out throughout the corridor.
His mind could just be tricking him; it has been a long day after all, but he’s sure that he heard a sneeze. He turns back to check on Maisie, but her door has just clicked shut.
Interesting...
‘I’ve been watching too many horror movies, I’m starting to go mad. How fitting.’
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When he goes to collect Maisie that morning, something is wrong.
He knocks.
Reece waits a few seconds and can’t hear any movement.
He knocks again, “Maisie?”
Still nothing.
Suddenly, the door opens, and Reece Shearsmith comes face-to-face with a very pale Maisie Adam. He looks her over: her frame shakes slightly, as if there is a draft in her room; her blonde hair is plastered to her forehead with sweat that’s beading at her temple; her eyes squint at Reece like he personally offended her; the hallway lights seem to be too strong for her; she’s weakly gripping the door handle so Reece doesn’t notice how much she’s swaying.
Maisie addresses him weakly, “Oh. Hi, Reece…” She coughs but tries to stifle it with her fists. “Sorry, didn’t realise it was so late. Ready to go?”
Reece doesn’t consider this the most convincing argument; he would know, after all, he is the actor in this situation. Reece isn’t exactly the best at social interaction, but he figures he should at least try.
“Now. Maisie. Are you sure you’re feeling up to it today? I don’t mean to be rude, but you aren’t looking your best.”
Maisie looks aghast at this and fixes her wilting expression to a more upbeat one. She can’t let him down.
“Yep! No idea what you’re talking about, all good here! You ready? Let’s go!”
She walks off very quickly after that, taking charge like she always does. But Reece can’t help but notice the slight sway in her step.
“Maisie, don’t just run off without me!”
Soon after, his worries are forgotten as they begin completing tasks.
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To put it simply, Maisie feels God awful:
Her aches and pains grow by the minute; her chest is tight, breath coming shallow and laboured. Waves of heat and cold crash through her, leaving her shivering and feverish all at once. A relentless jackhammer throbs in her skull. With each passing hour, Maisie can feel her body unravelling into raw illness, her mind foggy and desperate. The frustration sharpens when Alex assigns the two of them the most infuriating task yet:
Discover the name of the person in the lab. You must take it in turns to ask one question and the person may only say yes or no. The other team members must remain in this room until the questioner returns. Each person in your team must address the person in the lab by the correct name before the task is complete.
Tensions are high. The constant bickering over vowels and consonants, and the relentless chase between rooms, gnaw at Maisie’s weakening resolve. Every harsh answer from Reece feels like a sting, each clipped tone burrowing into her with guilt. She senses his rising frustration—for every falter, she aches with the fear of disappointing him. His furious pacing from the lab to the living room rattles her nerves, and her confidence drains, leaving only brittle resolve.
It all boiled over when:
“THAT’S A VOWEL!” Maisie furiously cries; her voice is hoarse and croaking. This is further exaggerated when she doubles over, coughing, clutching at her chest as if it will help her breathe normally again. Someone stands up. She feels a cautious hand place itself on her back. It starts to move in slow, deliberate circles. Alex nervously looks at the interaction between the two figures before him.
Maisie looks up slightly to find that the person whose hand is on her back is Reece’s. His mouth is pinched, brows furrowed, and jawline tense. And he looks at her so fiercely, it is almost unbearable. He speaks in a calm and controlled voice:
“Easy. Take deep breaths. Let it pass.”
While Maisie catches her breath, Reece rambles on about mundane things. Turkey sandwiches. What he picked for the prize tasks. The strange hayfever he gets at the start of October.
Once she recovers, Maisie uprights herself despite a wave of dizziness. Reece’s hand withdraws - but not before hesitating, its warmth lingering longer than she’ll admit out loud.
“Ehem. So,” she starts sheepishly, “Back to the task.” When, in reality, all she wants to do is lie down on the sofa Reece was just sitting on and take a really long nap, but this is important.
“Maisie sto—” Reece yells, but Maisie is already gone.
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Maisie runs into the lab and addresses the woman sitting there:
“Is your name Lyndsey?”
“Yes.”
That single word means more to Maisie than she ever could’ve hoped; she hasn’t let Reece down. However, as soon as that thought sinks in, her illness catches up with her. She doesn’t realise how much her hands are shaking, or how cold she feels, and she hugs her jacket ever closer. She slowly makes her way back to the lab, holding onto the wall for support. Another wave of dizziness hits her suddenly, and it doesn’t pass as she’s hoping it would. The room is spinning, and she can’t tell the walls from the floor from the ceiling. She clings to the wall harder.
Quick footsteps.
Maisie looks up, and the lights are stabbing her head. Reece is standing in the doorway, and there’s...two of them?
“Hey Reece,” She whispers, “Since when did you have a twin?” Looking at him with wide, watering eyes.
Her vision is blurring at the edges, as if a fog were in her brain. It’s so cold. And hot. Her legs felt so weak. Suddenly, she feels her legs give out beneath her, and she braces, awaiting the floor. But the floor never comes. Instead, she feels strong, warm hands holding her up by her arms. Trying to look up at Reece, those dammed lights, Maisie sees that he is making that face again. The one that means he’s being irritated by something. Probably her.
‘Hey... he’s finally taller than me. Good for him...’
It’s getting hard to think, Maisie finds.
“Anyway, Reece...” she starts again weakly, “Her name’s Lyndsey...We finished the task!” Maisie’s face held so much joy in that moment, vastly contrasting Reece’s.
However, instead of the reaction Maisie was anticipating, Reece sighs and huffs out:
“Fuck. You really aren’t feeling good, are you?” He then wraps his right hand around her waist to support the majority of her weight, and places his now free left hand on her forehead, “You’re burning up. How could you do this to yourself?!” But the feeling of Reece’s warm palm consumes her thoughts; she decides to lean further into his hand, hoping to enjoy whatever small relief she can get and hoping he won’t stay cross for too long this time. Reece wasn't expecting Maisie to do this, and froze for a second before regaining his composure and clearing his throat. “What am I going to do with you?” He sighs. Maisie doesn’t respond, and Reece doesn’t know what to do. So, he thinks back to his own life experiences; he has children, so he can do this.
‘Maisie isn’t a child anymore, but surely something I’ve learnt from having kids might be useful.’ He thinks to himself.
He looks down at her and sees the dazed look on her face and her unawareness of her current situation; she can’t stay like this any longer, she needs to be taken care of, or a sofa to lie down on at the very least.
‘Poor girl.’
“Right, Maisie.” He addresses her, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice to spare the girl. He’s aware that Maisie finds him ever so slightly...intimidating. “How about we get you to the sofa, let you find your bearings, then we can see about getting you back to your room at the hotel? That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”
Maisie comes back a little, “Reece, I feel fine, you don’t have to patronise me...Come on, let’s do the next task.” She tries to wrestle out of his grip, but she’s far too weak and ends up exhausting herself further.
“No. You’re done. We’re going to the sofa, you need to rest. See, you can't even keep yourself upright. What do you think you’re playing at?”
Maisie nods her head up and down slightly before wincing from the resulting pain. Reece retracts his hand, causing Maisie to let out a tiny whine at her loss, and he positions her arm around his shoulder and his around her waist, and together they creep towards the living room. Time slowed to a crawl as the usually angry duo solemnly approached the sofa. Maisie was so hot against him, like she was his own personal space heater.
‘I need to get her out of this stupid house.’
As soon as they got to the living room, Reece gently deposited Maisie onto their plush reward. She slumped over on a small pile of scatter cushions. Her breathing is laboured, and Reece can see tiny coughs wracking her shivering frame. Suddenly, she mutters Reece’s name.
Reece lays a tentative hand on Maisie’s shoulder and asks, “What is it, huh?” He sounds tired...
Maisie takes a second, then: “I’m sorry, Reece...I really tried not to let you see me like this...”
Reece’s eyes widen, and his mouth opens and closes slightly, before he sighs for what feels like the millionth time that day, and the hand on her shoulder starts to move in a comforting rhythm. “Silly woman,” he begins quietly, “What are you talking about?”
His touch briefly distracts her from how awful she feels. She clears her throat, which makes her sound like she has something dying in there:
“I can’t let you down, Reece...I mean no offence, but you’re fucking terrifying...” She chuckles weakly at this and closes her eyes.
Reece rolls his eyes at the last part, “What are you talking about? I’m always calm and collected.” But then his face slackens, he drags a hand across it and rests it there, he sighs again, and continues, “You don’t have to worry about letting me down, Maisie. I’m not going to spite you for maybe messing up in a task every once in a while. I can see that you’re trying your hardest for the team, and I appreciate that. Really, I do. So,“ His hand stills, and he lifts his head to look at her. “Just relax, you’re doing alright, love.”
Silence rings out throughout the room. It seems that neither of them knows what to say until Maisie shifts herself closer to Reece and rests her head very slightly on his shoulder, so as not to overstep boundaries.
“You’re...Warm...” She’s speaking very lightly, almost whispering. Reece can feel her shivering through his coat. He gently repositions Maisie to be leaning back against the pillows.
Maisie starts to panic, ‘Oh fuck, why did I do that? I’ve annoyed him again.’
Her fever is causing her thoughts to spiral, but it all stops when she feels herself being righted again, and a warm weight is placed upon her shoulders, stiff but still soft fabric brushing against her neck. She finally feels warmer. Looking down, she sees taupe tartan. Reece had placed his coat around her shoulders and then fussed for a second, buttoning it up with skilled, deft hands. Then he pulls her back towards him, to her original place, with her head resting on his shoulder, but more firmly than before. Finally, he leans back and brings her with him so that they are both resting against the back of the sofa. Maisie closes her eyes. Before she’s able to fall asleep, she hears:
“Take a small kip, then we’ll see about getting you to a proper bed. Don’t worry about anything.” Reece’s voice is slow and steady, and starting to muffle at the edges as Maisie begins to drift off.
The warmth and comfort pull her into a light doze; her exhaustion finally overcomes her, and it all fades to black.
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When she wakes, Reece is gone, but his coat remains draped around her like a protective shield. Maisie carefully looks around the room, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. It seems someone has pulled the curtains shut. He’s not in the chair, not by the window, not by the bookshelf.
He left.
‘This is so stupid...’ Maisie told herself, blinking back tears, ‘I shouldn’t be so bothered, we can’t complete tasks anymore with me like this, no wonder he’s already left’
When all of a sudden, he appears in the doorway with a cup of tea in his favourite blue striped mug. “Ah, you’re awake! How are we feeling?” He settles himself on the edge of the sofa, not too far from her, and smiles; he’s in a better mood than before. He looks much smaller without his coat, more human and less like the vampire from that movie he’s told her about. Maisie doesn’t know what to say.
Moments pass. Reese starts again:
“Maybe that’s too open a question, I’m sorry. Do you feel well enough to make it to the car? I’ll be with you the whole time, and it’s only a few meters away.” He’s speaking so patiently and attentively, like she could do no wrong, looking at her like she was someone to be protected.
What does she do?
Before she knows it, she nods and finds herself approaching the car. Then suddenly she’s in the middle car seat with Reece on her left, with his arm around her shoulders to keep her steady. Maisie feels so weak and sore, and what’s worse is the hum of the engine is starting to make her feel nauseous. She wants to go home. Tears prick at her eyelids; it stings, and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe, and her head hurts, and she just wants to go home.
She bites her lip in an attempt to stifle her crying.
Reece turns his head to look at Maisie when he hears her muffled gasps; tears are running down her cheeks and soaking into his shirt.
“Now don’t bite your lip, you’ll feel worse. And if it gets infected, then we’ll have to amputate, and you’ll end up looking like some kind of skeleton with no lips.” Reece tries to look her in the eyes to reassure her, wanting to see her smile again. This just isn’t like her. However, she’s too out of it to take notice.
He starts to rub circles into her shoulder with his thumb, desperately hoping that he provides some modicum of comfort.
“Shh, it’s alright, love, we’re nearly there. Just a few more minutes, then we’ll get you into your bed, and you can have some drug of some description. All you have to do right now is just keep breathing for me. You can do that, you’ve already done so well today. For example,” Reece squeezes her shoulder lightly. “Look how well we did with that stupid cupboard task. I bet the other team messed that up.”
Maisie moves to rest her head into the crook of his neck, tears still escaping her, but slower and more quietly. He stills again. All is quiet until, suddenly, Maisie lets out two very quick sneezes, making both of them jump. Her nose and face are burning. She starts crying all over again, and Reece just pulls her tighter against him and lets her cry into the crook of his neck. Her tears make his skin itch, but he knows that she is suffering much more than he is.
Internally, Reece is disgusted and trying not to flip his lid at being sneezed on. Twice.
Deep breaths.
Calm and collected.
He continues shushing her and letting her cry, rubbing circles into her shoulder, until Maisie starts to slow down. Reece can see that they are approaching the hotel and signals the driver to keep going past it. He remembers something that always worked with his children: taking them out for a drive in the car. He doesn’t know the science behind it, but is smart enough not to question it.
Maisie slumps against him more and more. Her breaths are getting quieter, her tears slowing to a stop.
Until eventually, Reece feels her slump against him fully.
She’s out.
‘Good. She finally fell asleep. Ah fuck, how am I going to carry her all the way back to her room?’
Reece groans out of frustration, but immediately stops when Maisie shifts.
Whispering, Reece apologises, and the rest of the drive back to the hotel is silent.
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Maisie wakes up for the third time that day.
Or is it the fourth now?
Strange that keeps happening.
She feels soft sheets pooling around her and a comfortable pillow under her head; she always brings one from home. The room is dark again, thank goodness, too, because if she has to look at any more lights, she’s going to jump out the nearest window - that would stop the pain at least. Also, she finds she’s still freezing; her shaking ripples the sheets, so she curls into a ball to try to conserve some body heat. Now familiar with her surroundings, she realises she’s back in her hotel room. That explains the pillow, then. Furthermore, she realises that Reece’s coat is gone; she mourns the loss of warmth and the feeling of his protection. But not only that, Maisie regrets not having Reece here.
Reece...
Reece?
Wait a minute.
A chair has been dragged up to her bedside, and in it sat one Reece Shearsmith, his head bobbing up and down in a light doze. Tiny snores escaped his mouth.
What to do?
She makes the smart decision to kick him.
“AH, Maisie, what are you playing at? You can't just kick people, especially not an old man who just broke his back getting you to bed!”
‘Oh God, I’ve really set him off now’
“Oh, forget it...you’re my teammate, I can’t be cross with you...for too long anyhow.”
Reece stands up and crosses the room to where Maisie’s suitcase is located.
“Are you alright for me to look through your bag to get a pair of pyjamas for you? Or would you like me to bring it over?”
However, what Reece didn’t realise was that all that kicking (one kick) exhausted Maisie, leaving her breathless. She starts coughing harshly, her whole body shaking.
She can’t breathe.
Oh fuck she can’t breathe.
Reece crosses the room in three paces and sits at her side again in an instant, practising the same old routine of rubbing her back and telling her to breathe.
“Ughh...I feel terrible...”
Reece rolled his eyes and said, “Well, no wonder. Did you even take that shower yesterday as I told you to?”
“Of course I did!” Maisie shouted, she sounds like death. “I took the shower then went to bed.”
“And did you dry yourself properly?” Reece retorted.
“Not really, figured I’d let the air do it - it was super windy last night.”
Reece sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Yes, that would do it...”
‘He’s disappointed.’
“I’m... really sorry I got sick, Reece. I promise I’ll try to get better as soon as possible. Ya know what I bet I’ll be all better b-”
“Maisie, stop. Please, just stop.”
He makes that one pouty face he always makes, but then quickly slumps his head so he’s staring at the bed. Another sigh. He finds Maisie’s hands that were kneading the duvet and holds them with both of his own. Reece looks up again, with anger in his eyes.
“Maisie, I couldn’t give two shits about the tasks.”
“What but Ree-” Maisie is quickly shut down.
“I’m not finished. Now, you don’t have to be afraid of letting me down. I will not be cross, I will not be disappointed. Not in any way that really matters. However,” his head tilts slightly to look her in the eyes better, “I will be if you do not take care of yourself. Am I understood?”
“Oh...sorry.”
Reece looks at her disapprovingly, “I asked you a question.”
“Yes, I will take care of myself. I promise.”
Finally, he smiles at her again, and it causes his eyes to crinkle slightly, “Thank you. Right,” He claps his hands. Maisie winces at the sound, “Sorry, won’t do it again, no loud sounds. Back to business: let’s get you those pyjamas.”
He reaches into her suitcase and finds a suitable pair, black, fuzzy ones with little Hello Kitties on them. Maisie catches Reece smirking slightly at them. Not everyone would’ve been able to catch that, but after completing tasks, you tend to get to know each other:
“Oi, don’t judge. Hello Kitty is elite.” Reece laughs slightly.
“Apologies, my fair lady, the kitten pyjamas are very becoming.” He mimes a little bow, “I’ll wait outside while you get changed, just call for me when you’re done.” He pats her knee twice and leaves the room.
Maisie smiles at him as he leaves, then starts getting changed as soon as the door clicks shut.
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Reece is patiently waiting outside the door, checking some emails on his ‘telephone’ after taking the time to remember his passcode. When suddenly:
A “REECE!” rang out and was soon followed by hacking coughs that he could hear even through the door.
He glides into the room and settles back down onto the bed next to Maisie.
“Much better.” He adjusts Maisie to lie her back down and tucks the duvet around her head. He then settles his palm onto her forehead to check her temperature again, and he tuts. “You’ve gotten worse.”
“Shit...”
“Shit indeed.”
“H-hey, do you think you could keep your hand there? You’re really warm...”
Reece raises his eyebrow, “Do you really think you need more heat? I’m starting to sweat just from being near you. I don’t have a thermometer on me, but I’m betting you’re a good thirty-nine, forty degrees?”
“Just- please.” She begged, looking just a bit pathetic in Reece’s mind.
He sighed, “Alright. But only for a bit.” A pause, “Would you like something to eat, drink?”
Maisie thinks for a moment before she delicately says, “I think...if I eat anything...I will throw up...” To support this, her stomach gives out an ominous gurgle, and she groans. Her face turns even paler, if that was possible. Reece’s hand, which had been on her forehead, moves to smooth out her blonde hair, arranged around her head on the pillow as if it were a halo. His touch was slow and tender. Maisie relishes the feeling of his fingertips grazing her scalp; it reminds her of when she was sick as a child, and her mother would sit with her, stroking her hair just like this. Reece reclaims her attention:
“What about a drink, hm?”
Maisie nods her head ever so slightly and is glad that it doesn’t remove Reece’s hand.
“Alright. Thank you.” With his other hand, Reece reaches for the landline on the bedside table and rings the front desk. Maisie isn’t sure what he’s saying; she isn’t paying too much attention, too engrossed in the feeling of Reece’s careful touch and his soft voice, which has lost all aggression.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door.
“Mmm...?” Maisie groans out, but Reece is already up and walking to the door.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon, this is just the drink I ordered.”
Reece comes back, tray in hand, and sets it on the bedside table. Then he sits on the bed beside Maisie and quietly warns her before helping her move up the bed, then he puts a pillow behind her to support her.
“Come now, try to have a drink of that, it isn’t too hot.” He hands her a classic white hotel mug of ginger and lemon tea. Maisie’s hands are still shaking, much like the rest of her, and she spills some on the duvet.
Reece reaches out to steady her, but:
“Honestly, Reece, I’ll be fine. You don’t have to stay, you know... I can do this.”
His forehead creases deepen ever further, “Maisie, you’re not well, it’s okay to have help. I want to help you.” He takes the mug from her and holds it to her lips for her. “And anyway, we’re teammates, consider this another task.”
Maisie drank in silence with his help. She managed only a few sips before she started coughing, and only then did he pull away.
“Thank you for being here, Reece.”
Reece places the mug back on the table and squeezes Maisie’s shoulder:
“That’s alright, love.”