It’s after the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, and let’s just say you and Lando haven’t been particularly active lately, with both of you focused on work.

You’re sitting next to Lando on the private jet, Max and Oscar seated opposite you. You can feel Lando’s gaze on you—persistent, lingering. You don’t even need to look at him to know exactly what’s on his mind.

A few hours after takeoff, as the cabin settles into a quiet lull, Lando leans in closer. His voice is low, barely above a whisper, meant only for you.

Lando: “Bathroom?”