Most of what Wiggy found fell firmly into the category of “Ick” or “Yuck” which came as no surprise. During her time on the team she had learnt quickly that when you were part of a crew, which continually placed the lives of racers like Alex and Joy on the line, it was essential that practicality trumped luxury. Unless the racer needed luxury and then it was apparently okay. Sometimes this little detail left Wiggy wondering if she should chance some time behind the wheel but, like always, those thoughts were promptly dashed by the prospect of being crushed, battered and splattered all over the race track. She couldn’t really imagine any luxury which was worth such a hefty risk.<br/><br/>After a brief time, the stubborn forager was almost on the verge of giving up when she accidently bumped her head against the top of the cupboard. As she was about to curse, Wiggy was suddenly blessed with the sight of a fat bar of dark chocolate, falling from the heavens. It landed with a quiet thud, right before her eyes, causing them to sparkle with delight. She hadn’t seen anything like it for nearly a full year. Unfortunately, her victory was short-lived as the techie’s insatiable sweet tooth was overridden by the mother of all killjoys, her conscience. She just couldn’t take the thought of depriving someone of their carefully stashed goods. And so with heavy regret, she carefully placed the tasty treat back in its secret spot although not before hastily scrawling a note which read, “Find a better hiding spot, or face the consequences!”<br/><br/>As she was about to continue her search, Wiggy was briefly startled to hear Frankie’s voice from the background. She immediately whirled to a stand, taking a moment to adjust her glasses as her team mate stepped up beside her to reach for something. It was enough to leave her squirming inwardly as she felt her personal space intruded upon by the spikey haired blonde. Most of the team knew of her dislike for closeness or physical contact although that never seemed to stop Alex from casually poking her in the breasts. The mechanic was on a roll however as she broke both rules just by the way she handed over the pasta. Wiggy could already feel a pleasant wave of goose bumps run the length of her arm as their hands lightly brushed. “Th-thanks,” she stuttered uneasily before suddenly ducking down and, much like an ostrich sticking its head in the sand, half-climbing into the cupboard below as she exclaimed, “You know, I think I saw some salt down here earlier, why don’t you get some water on the stove while I try find it?”<br/><br/>As Wiggy pretended to push boxes and packets aside, she carefully listened for Frankie to step away and do what she asked.