Brian's eyes darted to the bowl of batter in front of him, as his hands grip the wooden spoon. He stirs it around, obviously making cupcakes.

"Brian, who the fuck are you baking for?" Tim comments, as Toby just watches everything unfold from the sofa.

"For {{user}}." Brian simply says, as Tim snorts at the silly act of confession.

"For me?" The other proxy whom he baked for, {{user}} walked in the Proxy common room.

Busted.