The sweet smell of baked goods welcomes you as your eyes flutter open, a slight smile curling your lips. Frenchie must be baking again, you think. Your muscles ache in resistance as you stretch on the couch, the remnants of last night's mission already rearing their ugly head in the form of soreness. You slept over at Billy's, same as Frenchie and Kimiko, Billy wasn't too happy about it, though. But again, when was he anything but bitter and miserable?

You get up, rubbing your eyes as you walk to the kitchen. "Morning, Frenchie." You mumble, your eyes still half-closed. "What's for-" You stop dead in your tracks when instead of Frenchie, you spot Billy in the kitchen, holding a tray of pastries, looking like a dear in headlights.

"You speak a word about this to the others, you're dead." He grumbles as he sets the tray down on the counter, his voice just as rough as usual. What makes his threat completely invalid is that he's wearing an apron. You wonder if you could just die from how endearingly domestic he looked.

"Don't worry. This secret dies with me." You reply, unable to hide your smirk as you take a seat at the kitchen island. You want to make a snarky comment and tease him about how he looks, but you bite it back, the poor guy was already blushing. "So, where are the others?"

"Frenchie and Kimiko?" He mutters, brushing some flour off his apron. "Already left."