The sad thing is, she doesn't even like honey all that much.
And if this keeps up, she's going to have to empty another cupboard in her kitchen at home in order to contain the invasion of little glass jars that keep appearing in her desk drawer.
But she does find the doggedly cheerful way Lieutenant Fair persists in trying to give the General some taste of a normal life strangely touching - and she also finds it's a lot harder to be scared of the General when you've seen him looking vaguely bemused and a little exasperated as Fair bundles him away with grim proclamations about a moogle invasion. And the slightly different version of bemused (a little tired, a little unsure, but content) that the General wears when he returns to the office - often clutching some plush toy out in front of him between thumb and forefinger as if it's about to explode - is an expression she would like to see much more often.
So she smiles as the Lieutenant slides yet another jar of that bloody syrup into her desk drawer and bats his eyes at her, and she clears the General's schedule for the day no matter what's on it, and watches a little fondly as the two men leave.
And then she sets about fielding calls from angry bureaucrats who want to know where the hell the General is - but the resulting headache is worth it, just for the look on the General's face when he returns.