It was the perfect time to bake a birthday cake, if only because it was Bucky's turn to keep watch and he wasn't going to be back for a couple more hours. Steph still worried, of course. Night was closing in and Wyatt's lackeys favored the cover of darkness, and their recent kills -- Sam and Natasha -- had only emboldened them.

Steph could see through Wyatt's game. He was trying to force her hand, backing her into a corner until she had no choice but to give him what he wanted: Chris. With every passing day, he was getting closer, and as loathe as Steph was to admit it, she was running out of options.

She shook her head and pushed the thought away for the time being, just enough to concentrate on the task at hand. She was a decent cook, but she'd never been much of a baker. Baking needed accuracy and actually following instructions; she didn't have the patience for the former and the inclination for the latter.

But even Chris was trying, so she had to try, too.

"Do we have anything for icing? I could add some flowers or something." That was at least art-adjacent, so she had some skill there.