I&#39;m learning to breathe on my own...

Kara's always prompt with the seatbelt buckling. It's a total priority.

"Thanks," She says to Wesley. "You look good, too."

And if the smell isn't coming from Fred it has to be Wesley. It's hard to tell with aftershave and perfume these days when everyone is a freaking meterosexual or whatever.

"You look great, too, Fred." Maybe she says that a little pointedly.

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Fred wasn't so focused on the road that she didn't catch when she needed to answer back. "Thanks Kara," she flushed a bit, because social talk had never been her skill. "I think it's fair to say it's a nice looking carful we have here."

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Wesley smiled over at her, then glanced back at Kara. "How are Tucker and Warren doing?" He was trying at least. "Is Tucker recovering?"

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"I guess, I mean, he's not going to die - but he didn't exactly zip back together like a ziplock bag or whatever either. And he lost a finger, which is kinda GROSS, but I never said that to him because it might make him sad - which I understand, because, hello? My hair."

She makes a face as if to say: I don't know what happened there.

...Although Tucker seemed less traumatised by his finger than Kara was by her hair. Weird.

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"Those bags never work the way the commercials say," Fred obsereved, merging over one lane. "Maybe he's better off not being one anyway." Fred peeked at Kara from the rearview, and flashed a small smile. "Do you think not talking about it will keep him from being sad?"

Fred almost rambled right into how she cut off nearly all her hair herself in the sixth grade, for no other reason than what kids could do each other. And a run in with one of those kids that did the doing, the best. But it just didn't seem to fit into the conversation.

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"I think they work pretty good." Kara says looking out the window. "They're multi-purpose. I used to put my gym shoes in the big one, to make sure they didn't stink out my gym bag and stuff."

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Fred pulls into the restaurant, parking the car in the first spot she sees, not really caring what is close or not.

"They just never seem to work all the time."

And ziploc bags aren't people.

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"They always work for me... maybe you need to squeeze the air out better or something?"

She only just misses a beat before she adds:

"Have I managed to offend you, Fred?"

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Fred nearly shutes the car door on her hand, the questions so unexpected. Not that ziplock bags made enough sense to give any real sort of direction, but whatever field this was, her question was from way left of it. At least until Fred really gets quiet, and remembers when Kara suggested dinner in the first place.

She steps around the car.

"You haven't offended me Kara. I got really angry that one time, but you know about that." She offers a small smile. "I think I'm just still having fits of trying to hard?"

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Wes frowns a bit, glancing betweeen them, but isn't sure what to say to that. Unsure what they might need and how he can help, or hinder.

So he opens Kara's door for her and helps her out and keeps his mouth shut.

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"You seemed sort of defensive about ziplock bags and stuff... were you speaking metaphorically or something? Because people might get defensive if you crack jokes about their mother but ziplock bags are generally safe terrain."

But Fred DOES use a lot of metaphors and Kara doesn't always get them, so it's quite likely she has missed the point somewhere.

"Besides. I don't really remember about you being mad except that you were all like that I would never ever be half as nice as you and I was like: Wow, you're so mean. But, whatever. You probably had your period - besides I'm over the internalisation of peoples negativity because, hello? I've been reading this woman called Susan Jeffers and she's got a lot of good advice. You should both maybe go buy a couple of her books. I think it would help you a LOT."

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"I've just never had much luck with them," Fred answers truthfully, a bit of a smile coming back. "It's really as simple as that." And then there was the rest --

"I don't either of us were talking very well to the other that day," she offers as evenly as possible. And that's the truth in her eyes.

"Susan Jeffers? She's supposed to help? Help what?"

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"People. She helps people."

What else is there to help?

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"How?" Wesley asked, possibly a touch suspiciously. He hadn't heard of her books, and that was a rare thing.

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"By helping them to be better people!"

Obviously!

"What is this? The INQUISITION?!?!"

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Fred shook her head, and smiled. She'd reached the door to the restaurant first, and help it open for Kara, then Wesley.

"It's not anything like that at all," she pointed out, the smells from inside already meeting them. "It's BBQ."

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