None of this, Horatio is fairly certain, comes close to being life or death. That doesn't actually diminish the sensation of being useful, or the faint flicker of pleasure that runs up his spine at having been even the smallest bit of a help.

There's an ungainly moment of something close to imbalance as he secures the strand in place, but it doesn't actually end in disaster before he comes heavily back down onto his heels. That's a victory all its own.

"You hardly owe me anything at all, ma'am. It's a pleasure to serve."