Once they were in the kitchen, Miles produced a pair of scissors from a drawer, and carefully cut the band from her wrist. He left it on the counter so she could take it if she wanted to, then put the scissors away.
"How do you take your java?" He asked with a bit of a grin, then moved to the fridge to pull out some milk. He had sugar on the counter already.
"I figured comedy would be the way to go. That or blowing shit up with big, fucking guns." He smirked.