"Harrison," he corrects absently. "Yes. Harrison Wells." A brief handshake before he's pulling his hand away and attempting to put his focus back where it belonged, the expedition. Not on that peek of dimple or the way her smile seemed to make the rest of the world around her dim when faced with such brightness.

"The expedition will be ready in three days." Two if he pushes it. "And I just want to go on record again that going to Aum Shere is a categorically bad idea. There's a reason it's been avoided this long, a reason the Berbers call it cursed."

But he'll still go. Money is money and with the changing in seasons coming up fast he can't afford to be picky.