I'm not squeamish. There's no way I could be with a father like mine. I've dealt with enough blood and body fluids to last me the rest of my life.

So while the rest of the crew ran around making grossed out sounds, I went and located a mop and bucket and returned to see that most people had cleared away from the foul smelling mess.

Most of the band was hanging around, gaping like they'd just witnessed a car accident. But not Niall. He was over in the corner with Nails, crouched next to him with a look of concern on his face.

All I knew about Niall Penrose before I took this job was all anyone would know. He grew up in an affluent household to music-loving parents who pushed him towards a job playing orchestra. He was cultured. He knew how to ride horses. He had the kind of accent I'd only heard in movies.

I have to be honest. I was not expecting him to get this close to a pile of puke.

I walked up, brandishing the mop and bucket. "Thought we might need this."

"I've got it," the living legend of roadie lore growled, dabbing ineffectively at the puddle with a wadded up tissue from his back pocket.

"Hey Nails, don't worry about it," I told him, setting down the bucket. "Go lie down."

"Medic's coming' for you, big guy," Niall added. He caught my eye over the top of Nails' bald head. "Thank you," he mouthed soundlessly, then put his hand on Nails' back. "Seriously, mate," he told Nails. "You need to go lie down, yeah?"

"Clams are bad," the old roadie grunted.

"So we gathered," Niall reassured him. "Saved the rest of us from getting sick right as the tour starts. We'd have had to cancel the show tomorrow." He shook his head. "Thanks for being the sacrificial lamb, mate. You went above and beyond the call of duty, here."

His kindness was doing strange things to my exhausted and already wildly over-taxed head. I needed him to not be so damn close so I could focus a little better.

"Oy, Niall! Doc's here," Ewan called, still hanging back on the fringes.

I breathed a silent prayer of thanksgiving, but I still stopped mopping and watched Niall as he easily hefted the not-exactly-tiny roadie to his feet. He walked slowly, shortening his long strides to keep pace with the shuffling, bent over Nails. After a moment, Hudson seemed to snap to attention and came rushing over to hoist Nails by his other arm and together the two of them delivered him to the waiting gurney.

It took some effort, but I was able to tear my gaze away from the way Niall smiled and patted the old roadie, shaking his hand and nodding appreciatively. Once again, I wondered why it surprised me to see that Niall seemed like a pretty decent guy.

And then he was walking towards me again with that same appreciative look on his face. "Now you're definitely getting that raise you wanted," he chuckled as he watched me squeeze out the mop for the last time.

I wanted to hide my grin, but it caught me by surprise. "Oh, saving your life isn't good enough, but being the mop-up crew is?"

"Eh," he shrugged with a grin. "Ask that lot, they'll tell you. The health of a good roadie is worth way more than the life of one more bass player. I'm much more easily replaced."

The laugh that escaped my lips was far louder than I wanted it to be. I ducked my head. "Sorry," I mumbled, leaning to heft the befouled bucket.

"Allow me," Niall said, deftly lifting the handle from my grip.

"Really?" I blinked. "You seriously want to deal with that?"

He glanced at the sloshing contents and wrinkled his nose. "Well now, 'want' is a strong word. But I've got it. You did your part so I'll take it from here."

"Well..." In the space of only a few minute, Niall Penrose was turning everything I thought I knew about wealthy people, about celebrities, and about rock stars in general, upside down. "If you insist."

"I do." He glanced at the bucket again and sort of shuffled in place. "Ah...have any idea where I can dump this, darling?"

"Toilet would be my best guess."

"Ah yes. Of course, of course." He shot me a grateful smile.

"So um." I had to say something. "You know. Thanks."

"For what?"

"For helping Nails," I blurted. "He looked pretty embarrassed."

"Well I didn't much know him, but the way I figure it he's family for this short time we're on the road together. And you have to help your family."

I licked my lips. "Yeah." I could hear how faint my voice sounded and cleared my throat. "Course you do."

"So now it's my turn. Thanks to you, too. For - ah - quite a lot today I suppose. You're an angel for sure. Glad to have you on my team, Reese."

Something that felt very much like a cold trickle of sweat slithered down my spine at that and it made no blasted sense. Why on earth would it bother me that Niall looked at me as part of his team? That was a fucking good thing.

"Good," I said aloud.

Then I realized it sounded pretty ungrateful. But I couldn't think of a single other thing to say.

Niall's beaming smile drooped, and then slid from his face. "Right then," he said. "I'm going to go dump this."

"Have fun," I said, like a complete idiot. He wrinkled his forehead in confusion, then sort of shook his head and went off towards the toilets with his noxious load in tow.

I stood there a moment, wondering what the fuck to do next. Should I call after him? Thank him for being kind again? Tell him that I liked that he had green eyes when I'd expected them to be brown? Tell him that was just one more thing that had surprised me about him today?

Just like a four-wheeler stuck in the mud, I was stuck there, spinning my wheels until a voice jolted me back to the present, "Teresa? Hey Teresa, I need to talk to you!"

"It's Reese," I corrected loudly as I turned to see who was yelling my birth name.

Woody was coming towards me from the load-in doors. "Thank god you're still here," he said, jogging over to my side. "Something I need you to do for me. I know it's a lot but this is kind of an emergency, and you're kind of proving yourself pretty indispensable today."

I let my eyes close, soaking in the pleasure of those words before snapping them back open again. "Sure," I said brightly. "Whaddya got?"