Chuck looked at the part of the arm that was supposed to connect, and at the screw that was meant to hold it together. It was clever, really. Far more intricate than the wooden arm and hand that she'd once held, a long time ago. That hand had felt real, though; this one was fairly obviously not, even if it probably worked better.
"Does it hurt?" she asked. "For you, I mean." She thought the spark could probably hurt her if she touched it, but she'd be careful. She was more concerned with hurting him. And that was only if she got it right. What if she got it wrong?
She took a deep breath, too, and poised the arm in place, then met his eyes. "Alright. I'm going to try." And she pushed, trying not to wince in anticipation of the spark. It seemed to have worked, but it took her a few moments to remember that there was a second step. Reaching up, she turned the screw to tighten it, feeling almost as if she was drilling it into his skin. She really hoped it didn't feel too awful.