Milly is a firm believer in rewards after hard work, and if kicking D-lister butt isn't hard work, then she doesn't know what is. Okay, so, maybe not as hard work as busting up some serious supervillains or taking on TRIDENT affiliates, but between that whole musical fiasco and the time travel nonsense she and Raiden still haven't really talked about, Milly has seen enough hard work that she thinks a little treat is warranted.
Which is why she's dragged Raiden out for ice cream after a long evening's work of patrolling.
She insists on making him wait while she changes back into civilian clothes before they head to her favorite ice cream place -- not too far from the apartment she shares with Teddy, and a childhood favorite. She used to go here with her parents before her mother died, and with her father after that, but her relationship with her dad has been...pretty lacking lately. Crazy how secretly installing a transforming gun into your kid's hand might disrupt father-daughter relations a little. She's not talking to him much lately.
But none of that shows in Milly's sunny disposition even as the last traces of daylight slip under the horizon; she's absolutely bouncing as they arrive. It's one of those road-side ice cream stands, basically a glorified hut with counter service and it's obviously been here a while. "Here we are," Milly declares proudly, hands on hips. "They've got at least eighty different flavors of soft serve, see?" There is, in fact, a very long list on the board next to the service window. "So, what's your favorite, huh? I mean, you have had ice cream before, right?"
CRASHES INTO THIS FOR CYBORG FAMILY BONDING TIMES
Which is why she's dragged Raiden out for ice cream after a long evening's work of patrolling.
She insists on making him wait while she changes back into civilian clothes before they head to her favorite ice cream place -- not too far from the apartment she shares with Teddy, and a childhood favorite. She used to go here with her parents before her mother died, and with her father after that, but her relationship with her dad has been...pretty lacking lately. Crazy how secretly installing a transforming gun into your kid's hand might disrupt father-daughter relations a little. She's not talking to him much lately.
But none of that shows in Milly's sunny disposition even as the last traces of daylight slip under the horizon; she's absolutely bouncing as they arrive. It's one of those road-side ice cream stands, basically a glorified hut with counter service and it's obviously been here a while. "Here we are," Milly declares proudly, hands on hips. "They've got at least eighty different flavors of soft serve, see?" There is, in fact, a very long list on the board next to the service window. "So, what's your favorite, huh? I mean, you have had ice cream before, right?"