He sat in the kitchen of his room, no longer in his armor. His black shirt was covered in a white dust, which was flour. He took a deep breath, sitting in front of the oven. Comet had only ever baked twice in his life. Once was a tin of Brownies to welcome a Spartan-II back to life. The other time was a chocolate cake he made with his mother when he was a child. And he was doing just that for someone. After thirty minutes, Comet pulled the cake from the oven, forgetting to put on oven mitts, and scorching his hand. He didn’t care though, because, his creation was beautiful. A double layered chocolate cake. He smiled, feeling completely relieved. He grabbed a silver can, and opened it. The smell of frosting filled the kitchen immediately. Then, his hand went to a large combat knife, brand new, never used. An engraving was on it, though. I couldn’t be seen, however, because he dipped it into the frosting, and then spread it along the cake, turning the black cake a bright pink. “That will do, I suppose..” He stepped back, rubbing his forehead, a smear of frosting going over the Spartan’s forehead. Comet pulled up the knife. It was an old, 21st century, TAC-Dagger. Completely reworked. He set it into the sheath, and carefully walked all the way to Yankee’s room, cake in box. The Spartan’s heavy hand banged on it quickly, and loudly, setting the box down, and the dagger, sheathed, on top of it, with a note reading, ‘Secret Admirer.’ He heard the door open, and, after a few moments, shut. He let out a breathe, and looked around the corner, seeing that the box was gone. Comet smiled to himself, before only two words rang in his mind.