She lets out a tiny, exaggerated huff of air, one hand on a hip as she glances at the wiggling cheese grater. Part of her just wants to let out a snort of laughter and tackle him, but the rest of her holds on.

There's time for that later, after all.

"I've grated cheese before. That's one of the things mum would trust me with, since there was no heat involved," Fortescue scoffs, mostly for the effect of this teasing exchange they're in. Smirking, she holds out her hand for the grater. "If you're just going to stand there and look handsome, I'll ask for posing. It's the least you can do."