Getting Myself into the Battle of New York ~Avengers~

34; VANILLA AND NEOPOLITAN

"We are here!" Steve exclaims excitedly as he parked, parked? Yeah, parked in front of a shop.

The shop displayed it's vintage theme, which helps me recognize the store.  Again, as stated, we are in Washington DC... So...

Anyway, its whole design, made me feel like I am brought back to the forties.  Or fifties, but that doesn't really matter.

What matters is that this beloved store is known in the whole city, or nation for that matter, as Sweets' Parlor.  As the name states, sweets are sold and purchased by lovely customers everyday from the store.  Specifically ice cream.  My literal favorite food in the entire universe.

My lips curl straightaway in a five-year-old's grin at the sight of the frozen dessert's store beneath my motorcycle helmet.

Steve hopped out of the bike as I gaze up at the ice cream parlor's sign, my face plastered with happiness.  He doesn't notice although at my happiness beneath my helmet, therefore he frowns, "Amelia?  Is there something bothering you--?"

I squeal.

As I remove the helmet out of my head 'cause I'm sweating inside.

"Of course not!  I- I mean, Steve... You brought me to one of the happiest place on Earth!" I reason, still with that five-year-old grin plastered on my face.  "I mean, honestly this place is second to those Disney Parks, but hey!  Its ice cream!" Displaying my awesome jazz hands at the ice cream parlor's sign, Steve let out a husky chuckle. 

"That is great," he says still chuckling, then he offered me his arm.  "But Disney?"

Hopping out of the bike, I gladly accept his well-built, masculine arm concealed beneath the sleeve of his plaid shirt and brown, leather jacket.  "Where dreams come true.  Especially for toddlers and your inner toddler!"  I remark as he lets out another laugh, both of us walking towards the ice cream store.

"Walt Disney... All I've seen from him was Snow White."  Steve asserts as he opens the door leading to the ice cream parlor, the door emitting a small jingle of a bell.  "Plus, I think I am too old to have access to my inner toddler.  Considering for I'm asleep for like what, seventy years?"

I roll my eyes, scoffing, "Steve, you look like you are on your late twenties than in your nineties.  Besides, biologically speaking, you are around on your late twenties accordingly to the deduction of the number of decades you were frozen."  Ah... Science-y talk.  Like who says 'biologically speaking'?  Me, myself, and I.

The ice cream parlor is surprisingly lacking some customers due to the time of the day, like who eat ice cream eleven o'clock in the morning?  Me, well, sometimes.

Steve sighs, "well, thank you 'cause I'll take that as a compliment." I give him a smug look when I notice a middle-aged man, in his sixties, enter the ice cream counter on where you'll obviously order your ice cream.  "Ah, Amelia!" Steve suddenly became confused.

Meet Joe Blair.  Proud owner of his family business, another well-renowned family business in DC, of Sweets' Parlor.  Since 1942!  "Good morning, Joe." I greet back with a warm smile.  Again, I am a regular.  It is ice cream...

"The usual?"  He asks, wiggling his eye brows at Steve.  "And same goes for, wonder boy?"

Blushing hard, I noticed Steve does the same.  I defend myself linguistically, "erm, I don't know, but does Steve," I turn to face Steve from behind, "like Neapolitan? In a cone...?"

"Erm, vanilla in a cone is fine." He answers while scratching the back of his neck, some red still creeping .  Joe just laughs as he turns to Steve, "son, isn't vanilla a little too, I don't know, old-fashioned?  I recommend cookie dough."