Just who was the mysterious baker who left his or her scrumptious products in the kitchen for others to enjoy? An enigma who left no name or note, who did not seek any credit for the baked goods, but only left them on the counter for hungry students to find in the morning. Darren frowned as he munched on a freshly baked cinnamon roll, accompanied with a cool glass of milk. He did not frown because the roll tasted bad—God no, it tasted delicious—but rather because he felt a little guilty. He thought the baker ought to be receiving some form of thanks. The other students seemed fairly used to the reappearing foods, although some ungrateful gluttons complained they were appearing less and less frequently lately, and did not seem bothered like Darren did.

He wanted to do something to show his gratitude…

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“So I need how many eggs? And how much flour? Uh-huh…uh-huh…” Darren jotted down what his father told him, keeping the phone perched between his head and shoulder. The recipe was simple enough, but it was the teenager’s first attempt at baking something. Sure he knew how to make a few things (his omelets were pretty awesome), but desserts were something else entirely. He didn’t want to mess this up, not in the face of a baking connoisseur.

And Cal Argo’s sugar cookie recipe involved a very special secret ingredient…if he screwed the cookies up, he was probably going to disappoint his dad as well.

He gathered all of the ingredients: eggs, milk, flour, olive oil, sugar, and the things needed to create Cal’s secret stuff. He took out a bowl, a measuring cup, and a mixer. The kitchen was pretty void, save for a few hungry students looking for a snack. They gave him space to work, however, so he paid them no mind. Hopefully he wouldn’t make too much of a mess.

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A few hours later, the oven made a dinging noise, signaling that the last batch of sugar cookies was finished. He had made three in case he made any mistakes on the first one, which he did, incidentally. The kitchen had cleared out quickly when the smell of burning dough seeped out of the oven. The second one was a little better, but the third one was the one Darren was banking on. It would be his crowning achievement and well worth the work if the cookies came out well. He had done everything right that round, or so he hoped.

He slipped on the oven mitts and took the hot tray out of the oven, steam rising from the baked goods.

They looked good…but would they taste good?

“Uh, e-excuse me? C-can you t-try one of these c-cookies? I n-need a s-second opinion.” He waved down a random passerby, a girl who looked to be about ten or eleven. She smiled and eagerly grabbed one of the cooling cookies, blowing on it before taking a tentative bite out of it. If they tasted horrible, at least Darren wouldn’t be the one suffering.

“These are pretty good!” she said, still smiling. Only pretty good? The teenager pouted.

“Well, I mean, they’re good for an amateur. The guy who bakes down here at night makes these amazing ones. Tough competition, s’all I’m saying.” Well, that made Darren feel a little better. He hadn’t expected to match the success of the baker he was baking for, but if they were good for…an amateur…then he supposed he could still offer them. He took one and nibbled on it, seeing for himself.

They were as the girl described them. Good, but not great. Good for him, who had never successfully baked anything in his life. It was tough work, which was why he liked sticking to making other types of food. Hm. Darren hoped the baking master would like them, or at least tolerate them.

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On the kitchen counter laid a plate of sugar cookies, covered in saran wrap with a note attached.

The note, written in a teenage boy’s messy scrawl, read as such: Just a show of gratitude. Thank you for the cinnamon buns this morning.

A night in was rare for Drew these days but he felt it wouldn't be good to be out too often. For all his goofing and flirting with the ladies Sam was a pretty sharp guy when he wanted to be. Heck it was a must for the leader of the X-Men. Spending too much time out of the mansion would get more attention than he wanted. So Drew stayed in. This was the second night in a row he'd done this and last night he'd ended up baking just for old time's sake. The cinnamon rolls had come off well. What tonight's mission would be he wasn't quite sure. Maybe something different than usual? Coffee cake might be nice. It had been quite some time since he'd made that. Decision made Drew passed the time in his room quietly until most of the house was asleep and then trekked down to the kitchen. The saran wrapped plate took Drew entirely by surprise.

One of the students had taken the time to bake him something in return for the cinnamon buns? That was oddly endearing and out of character for most of the kids. Probably someone new that he hadn't met yet. Peeling back the saran wrap Drew bit into one of the cookies. Not bad. In fact they were pretty good for someone who likely didn't have as much experience as he did in this particular field. A smirk settled across his features. He'd show the kid how it was done while he was busy with the treats for the morning. Adding some sugar cookies to the rotation wouldn't be too difficult.

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The baking for the night was finished. A plate full of fresh sugar cookies matched the ones he'd been gifted by student unknown. There was coffee cake as well as two different flavors of muffins waiting for the students but the sugar cookies needed some special preparation. Darting out of the kitchen Drew slipped up to the offices for some paper and a pen. Back down in the kitchen Drew wrote out the recipe he used for his cookies on one side, folded it up, and then wrote a brief note on the other.

Not a bad effort. Try this recipe next time though.

Drew wrapped up the plate of cookies just as the mysterious person had done and put the note with it. Then he retreated to his room with a plate of sugar cookies to eat. Maybe he'd share a few with Verdy when they passed off Jack.