"Five, wha—"
Five lifted the plate hesitantly; when Sam's eyes fell on it, they widened considerably.
"Is—is that—"
"I don't know how it's going to taste," Five interrupted, her face flushed. "I couldn't make ice cream or anything, and I could only barely remember the recipe for cake…"
Sam opened the door to the comms wordlessly, and Five entered, too agitated to sit down at one of the empty chairs. Instead, she held the plate and fork out to him.
"I—I know you missed these," she said, stuttering slightly.
Sam walked to her unblinkingly after shutting the door, taking the cake and utensil in his hands. "How was this possible?" he asked quietly.
Five suddenly felt flustered, unable to gauge Sam's feelings regarding the surprise. "Runners get more rations than everyone else. You know that, obviously. And—and so I saved some of mine. I'm not running right now so I could afford to. So I just traded in some of my food portions for the ingredients and I tried to make this for you. Like I said, I… it might taste terrible…" Her voice trailed off with a squeak.
Sam swallowed. "You did this… for me?"
Five nodded nervously. For one wild moment, she thought Sam might think her stupid for wasting valuable food items on such a silly idea. However, Sam quietly set the plate and fork down on the comms desk.
Without another word, he reached out and grasped Five into a tight hug.
When Five had run into Abel township the night she was stranded, her terror and sobbing had obstructed any enjoyment of Sam holding and comforting her. Her mind had been filled with reverberating groans and her nostrils teemed with the stink of the undead.
Now, however, no such distractions existed. The comms towers was completely silent, and Sam's hug was solid and comforting, rendering Five completely out of breath. As the shock wore off, she finally wound her arms around him in return, leaning her head into his chest.
They broke apart—unwillingly, on Five's part, at least—and Sam smiled lopsidedly.
"Thank you…" he said. "I—I just can't believe you heard all that and remembered it too." He shook his head, sitting down at one of the rolling chairs and grabbing the plate again. "Want to share?"
Five smiled and sat down too, rolling close to him. "You try it first."
Sam shrugged, cutting into the small roll cake wannabe and placing a forkful of it into his mouth. He chewed, blinked, and swallowed, then handing the fork to the cook. She took it and tasted the cake as well, almost bursting into laughter as it touched her tongue.
It tasted nothing like a roll cake. It was, instead, a cocoa-flavored mess of flour and sugar. In fact, Five was unsure whether it could even qualify as cake. Or food.
"Oh, God…" Five said, swallowing with difficulty. "That's terrible!"
Sam burst into laughter. "I think I'm going to have to agree with you on that one."
The runner sighed. "I'm sorry, Sam. I wanted to do something special for you."
"You did," Sam insisted, setting the lumpy brown dough to the side. "I never, ever expected that someone would do this for me."
Five couldn't help but smile at that, her initial embarrassment vaporizing as she saw the truth in Sam's eyes. With another chuckle, they pushed the failed dessert to the side and talked deep into the night—and Five found she thought every ration she'd spent on the ordeal had become entirely worth it.