[It's a bit of conversational whiplash for her, given that she was prepping herself to be serious and supportive and now it's pastry time. But Willow recovers in a second, used to conversational whiplash-- it's just been a while since she's talked to anyone that could keep up with the Scooby level of it.

She regains her smile almost against her will, a trace of somberness hanging about her, but fading.]

Far be it from me to deny the dashing Mr. Vantas his tribute. Though I hope he's planning on saving some of those few for later, or his dashingness might get sick from too much cinnamon roll. Never a pretty sight.

[She moves to go buy some even as she teases him.]