She fired off a return email to Tora, but didn't bother to wait for a response; she kicked back from her desk and stalked down to the mess hall, full of fury at Barton's antics. As least, she safely assumed it was Barton. Who else would do something stupid in the mess hall the hour after she got done briefing the president, the day after a fairly major op?
Halfway there, she realized that nothing made much sense. Even SHIELD agents didn't engage in foodfights or sabotaging the food of the mess hall. Well, not often, so perhaps they were overdue, but it felt wrong for Tora to be the one to call her down...
She stepped into the mess hall, and the number of people there, focused on her, made her reach for the gun at her hip automatically. With effort, she blinked the reaction away...though she felt a low-grade urge to fire the lot of them.
She'd forgotten her birthday. She preferred it that way.
...Tora had made a cake. And likely all the other baked goodies. She tried to remember the last time she'd had a cake on or for her birthday.
"Do not surprise me again," she grumbled, but stepped into the mess hall. She'd shot no one, or fired them. She'd even eat her cake, but she drew the line at singing. She had a rep.