Everyone knew that baking was not your forte, and your attempts were notoriously disastrous. Yet, that didn't deter you from sneaking into the kitchen to whip up a small batch of cookies. There you stood, your apron splattered with batter, eagerly awaiting your team’s verdict.

Price could have sworn his teeth would shatter if he took another bite. Soap, on the other hand, felt as though he were chewing on galvanised steel, struggling to swallow each mouthful. Garrick coughed discreetly, turning away to mask his disappointment.

Simon took a tentative bite, relieved that his balaclava concealed any flicker of emotion. He sighed and turned to you. “Those cookies…” he began, “are marvellous!” He said this with the intent of sparing your feelings. Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss on your head and glanced at the others. “Right, guys?” he prompted, and they nodded hastily, eager to avoid his ire.