Millie leads her to an Italian restaurant. She wants to know if Judy is short for Judith, whether Judy wants to learn actual witchcraft one day, what her favorite movie/book/color/song are.

"Just Judy!  - My last name's Jenkins; my parents are pretty great in most ways but like come on; I've been excited to get married since forever just so I can change it - maybe I can do that now, since I'm already not going to have a legal identity, just say it's something different - witchcraft sounds pretty cool if I can manage picking it up without that being suspicious with me allegedly already knowing a bunch - ummmm Singin' in the Rain, Catching Fire, the literal color purple, uh, Radioactive and Astonishing from the Little Women musical are tied right now; it changes a lot.  - Radioactive from like, pop music, Imagine Dragons, not also Little Women."

"You don't like alliterating? I don't like my first name, Millie's short for Miller, there were like four Sarahs in my first grade -"

She doesn't quite flinch.  "I don't inherently mind it; my best friend's Mariana Madison and she did okay, but like, I feel like 'Judy Jenkins' in particular is just really easy to say sneeringly or whatever."

"Aw, I'm sorry." Shoulderpat.

"It's okay, I wasn't actually like bullied or anything.  Although I have heard every Hey Jude joke and every Scooby-Doo 'old man Jenkins' joke.  And one or two admittedly clever combinations of those."

"I won't repeat 'em," promises Millie. Here is the Italian place. It doesn't have a hostess; they can sit in a two-top little booth, feet nearly touching.

Judy politely tucks her feet out of the way the best she can.  She's in the mood for alfredo, and also for staring dreamily at Millie, though she only really notices the former.

Millie gets gnocchi al pesto with chicken in it. "Do you wanna split a cup of soup of the day -?"

". . . I don't have any idea how hungry I actually am underneath the - thing, right now.  If you want to get it you should and I might have some but I might not?"

"Okay. We can always take leftovers, though." She orders the soup.

"Sure, 'course."  It turns out that the amount of hungry she is is VERY and her pasta is HOLY CRAP DELICIOUS for like half the plate, and then she feels way too full and has to pause for a few minutes, and then she has a regular amount of appetite after that which leaves her room for a little soup but not too much.

Millie keeps smiling at her.

ee.

"Were you going to get dessert?"

"Oooh, maybe - do you have room for some of a tiramisu - do you like tiramisu -"

"I do like tiramisu but I'm fullllll.  - I could probably manage just a little."

"We can bring the rest home if we can't finish it," says Millie. A socked foot brushes Judy's ankle as she twists around to flag down the waitress.

Such is life in a tiny booth, Judy guesses?  She exercises great restraint in having One bite of tiramisu, and contentedly watches Millie eat her share, and puts down a few bills for the tip when then check comes.

"Aw, you're a good tipper," says Millie approvingly, chipping in too. She pays for the rest of the dinner.

"Well, tipping's important.  Thanks for taking me out!  I had a good time."

"You're welcome!" grins Millie.

Does Judy possibly want to hold hands on the way home. Millie's going to innocently link pinkies with her and see what happens.

Judy looks down at the hands and back up at Millie's face fast enough to be a double-take of sorts.  " - Hm?"

"Used to do this with my best friend in middle school - is it too weird -"

"Oh - no, not at all; sorry."

Smile! Pinky-linked, they walk back to the apartment.