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The door open and America beamed at him in barefoot disarray. "Is it better," she asked, "to lick it form the bowl? I was gonna use a spoon but that sounds funner, gotta say. Messier, you know, in the good way."

And turning to walk back into the kitchen, leaving him to close the door and make his way through the house. Here and there were small signs that things had been rifled through, scattered about with no one bothering to anything back to rights again.

In the kitchen were half a dozen boxes of different type of cake mixes and a small pyramid of premade frosting cans. She asked for someone going on leave to grab them, 'cause Konstantin was all proud and fussy about his baking but he had more important things to think about right now, didn't he? Getting people to do things was easy peasy pie any way, just had to cry a little. Talk about the break up. Cry a bit more.

The humiliation of it, the ******** gall of it, was by far outweighed by how useful it was.

Tilting her head back, searching her mind, the question apparently warranted several long moments. When she came upon it, it dawned all over her face, bright and happy, "Every flavor. I want an every flavor cake."

She nodded and grinned, "Can we do that? If not then I guess...this one? This one is good too. All the colors make it an almost every sorta cake, doesn't it?" She'd picked up the Funfetti box and waggled it at him, "Even has fun in the name!"

She began to stack the frosting cans into wobbly little towers. "I don't know. People keep asking and it's not like...I mean, I wanted to marry him. Was gonna give the house to someone else, or keep it for folks that have trouble staying in the basement, just so he'd have one less reason to say no. But I think I'm doing okay? Not throwing myself off a cliff or anything."

Popping the top off a can of vanilla, she swiped a finger through it, and then asked, all simple curiosity, "Are we gonna have sex tonight?"

Humming for a moment she looked thoughtful until suddenly she was nodding. "It's what always used to happen. Break up, find someone I can trust not to make s**t complicated and..." she shrugged. "It's been awhile. Was with Taym longer than I'd been with anyone else really. Feels like..."

She paused to think again, "I guess I just want to know I can still enjoy things, nice n'simple like." With a pout she gazed at him around a finger caked with frosting, "That a no?"

Counter to stated reasoning she did, in fact, frown more. Morosely she gazed at the frosting, "Why wouldn't it be right?" Sulky, she finally licked off the frosting, "Don't I get a say?"

The sulk was transferred back to Dawson. "I want a lot of layers. They look nice."

"I'm in a lonely place right now, Dawson. And you're right it's not very good." Moving Dawson's hands off her shoulders, she went on, "So make me a ******** cake, cause you know what I need so much. I can talk a lot about cakes."

She was made of tense, angry lines as she hopped up onto the counter to unhelpfully watch him as he worked. "The first time we kissed, it was right before he treated me to this birthday cake he'd gotten for me. I made him promise me one to celebrate me ranking up to intermediate."

"Not that time, fact is the cake was a lie. Part of a big hallucination. So I bothered him about getting me a real one. He told he'd make me an every flavor cake if he could and that was the first time I told him I loved him, cause I wanted to say it but it didn't feel okay to just say it." Her brow scrunched up, trying to decipher the why of that.

"Seems stupid now. Add some marshmallows in I like the way the squish." A pause, "Actually just hand the marshmallows over." It was said in a dire sort of tone, the kind that prefaced phrases like ...and nobody gets hurt.

"The second one he made himself and that was the first time we had sex. It was about a week before he was leaving to go on a mission where we both thought he'd die. He'd volunteered to go." It was still too large, the facts should have made it small and logical and smaller and yet...