She had been practicing in the bug. Practicing and saving. And she had got pretty good. Well, she wasn’t terrible. Ok, so she wasn’t the absolute worst. But the time for her test was fast approaching and she couldn’t take the driving test in the bug due to the missing passenger seat. Plus she needed her own car. So she had been scouring the usual ad-type-places. Some reputable dealers, some less reputable. She figured as long as it wasn’t riddled with bulletholes it couldn’t be that bad. And she had found one that ticked all the boxes. It was large enough that Jack could fit easily in, it wasn’t too old, too shabby, too expensive or too many miles.


It was perfect.


After a few emails back and forth to sort out such details as where and when Zinnia shot off a message to her favourite rainbow shrimp.


>>“I’m going to buy a car, wanna come with?”


It was a simple fact of their relationship that having a big ol hunk of muscle in a shell meant that suddenly negotiating prices became so much easier, and people didn’t try to take advantage of the sweet and innocent nurse. The truck was an hour away by bus outside the city in a not-too-bad area, so if her girlfriend declined she could go by herself, just with a bunch of safeguards in place.


There was one minor detail she overlooked in the posting. This was a manual truck. She had only driven automatics, and even those with limited ability.
But it was overlooked, so it was unimportant.

The message surfaced on Jack's phone early one morning. "I'm going to buy a car, wanna come with?" Zinnia had been searching for a car for quite a while, now, so it came as no surprise when she requested company. The prawn was happy to oblige. There were too many stories of young women going to meet-up with sellers of cars and various terrible things happening to them. Jack had the benefit of not looking like a young lady, thus didn't have that concern.

<Sure,> the prawn had texted back, without much of a second thought. In California, you needed a license and car insurance to purchase a car. In New York, however, Jack had never looked into purchasing a car, so perhaps it was different here? Or maybe one of Zinnia's parents were coming? Then again, if her parents were coming, they wouldn't be catching a bus to get here.

Jack thus showed-up at Zinnia's place on a brisk weekend morning (one that she conveniently had off of work), donning jeans, a tank top, hoodie, and a polite black surgical mask. The prawn knocked lightly upon the door to Zinnia's place, running a hand over her antennae. She was bound to be up, the prawn thought with a mild humor, and on at least her second cup of coffee.

The prawn was unfastening her surgical mask when the door swung open.

"Good morning," Jack greeted, stooping low to greet her girlfriend.

The third cup of coffee for the day hit the table with a dull ‘thunk’ as a gentle tapping signalled the arrival of her girlfriend. Zinnia swung the door open and slipped out onto the landing, tilting her face up to meet that of the prawn.
“Hey, you.”
The smile was muffled in a fumbling of lips and mandibles. They pretty much had it down pat now, but there was still the occasional slip in a mirrored head-tilt, or a stifled sneeze. After a lingering moment she pulled back and grinned into lavender eyes.
“Have you eaten?”
Zinn’s Mom was always pushing food onto Jack, like she was scared the shelled girl would go hungry in her own place. There wasn’t much that could beat her cooking though, and definitely nothing that Zinnia cooked herself. If Jack wanted to eat there was plenty of time. If she didn’t they would get a head-start on the bus company and have time to bump elbows and knees in the bus shelter like awkward teens trying not to let on that they were dating. People were weird about different, and their relationship fit squarely into the ‘different’ box.
Slipping a hand into the hoodie pockets Zinn pulled the prawn inside. Somewhere a sibling sense tingled and an ‘eeeeewwwww’ hung in the air. Living at home had its benefits, like homecooked food and massive savings on rent, but it left something to be desired privacy-wise.

>> “Hey, you.”

As always, Zinnia was a sight for sore eyes. Luminous. The morning light was nothing in comparison. They exchanged a kiss (well, their version of a kiss, anyway), and the prawn smiled. Her massive primary hand had rose to touch Zinnia's cheek in the brief greeting. Her lavender gaze lingered on the smaller woman as she fixed the mask back into place. She was still timid about showing her mouthparts, despite the apparent ambivalence of Zinnias' parents and the rave responses from the little brothers.

>> “Have you eaten?”

Jack shrugged her shoulders. Whether or not she'd eaten was something else that the parents seemed ambivalent about. Even if Jack insisted that she had eaten, Mama Hourig was a force to be reckoned with.

"Yes," was the meager and knowing reply, a chuckle fringing her tone. Jack was hauled inside by her hoodie pockets, which the prawn willingly allowed. A far off cry of "eeewww" from one of the peanut gallery resounded down the halls. A mischevious twinkle glittered in the prawn's eye.

"How a'out 'e tell each uzzer how nuch 'e luzz each uzzer 'ile 'e get sun-ting to eat?" Jack inquired mischeviously, "'e coul' e-zen... cuddle."

"Aaaaugh, no, you're as bad as mom and dad!" came the imploring cry.

The two young women found their way into the kitchen, and the brothers were within their line of vision. They fixed their sister and the prawn with looks that ranged from imploring to droll.

"Cara nia," Jack purred at Zinnia, nestling her muzzle against Zinnia's shoulder. This earned shouts of protest from the boy's, cries of "Oh!" and "Stop!" She was mostly just giving the boys a hard time. But, to be honest, Jack could never seem to get enough of Zinnia's affections-- as if their relationship was some sort of illusion and at any moment, Zinnia would disappear in an instant of "Gotcha!".

Whenever their affection was tinted with torment for the younglings that still believed in cooties there was an air of playfulness that tickled her fancy. She donned her best smoochey-smoo voice.

“Oh yes,” she agreed, “I luuuuuuurve you sooooo much!”

Her breath caught in the back of her throat for a moment. It was true. Fake spewing noises from the table did nothing to ruin the moment. She did toss a teaspoon at the worst offender though. It bounced harmlessly off the table and onto the floor.

She tipped her head to rest against the bald carapace of her girlfriends… skull? Did an exoskeleton make it a skull?... and smirked at the boys for a long moment before grabbing a plate and dishing out hashbrowns and beans and other such weekend-breakfast goodies for her girlfriend. Offering up the plate she refilled her mug with coffee from the pot and took her place at her own half-cleared plate. Once they had eaten they would away, to adventure, and vehicular freedom!

“Have to say, I’m pretty excited about this truck. I looked up the details and stuff and it gets good miles to gallons and it’s not too expensive to replace parts if something breaks and stuff.”

It was important, she understood, to choose a secondhand car with these features. In her research she had heard far too much about people buying lemons, then not being able to get the sugar-and-water parts to turn them to lemonade.

Jack chuckled at the sibling antics, lightly rubbing her face against Zinnia's before stepping away. It was nice to have such a normal house... the kind of things that one might take for granted. The prawn watched as Zinnia dolled-out hashbrowns and beans and eggs, before handing the plate graciously to the prawn.

"Sanks," the prawn murmured. She unhooked her mask again. Really, the wasn't even much a point to keep it on in this house. The family had her over so frequently that, after the first few timid shared meals, she steadily warmed-up to the parents and the brothers and the domesticity of it all. She ambled towards the table, carefully taking a seat upon the open chair.

>> “Have to say, I’m pretty excited about this truck. I looked up the details and stuff and it gets good miles to gallons and it’s not too expensive to replace parts if something breaks and stuff.”

Jack trilled, "Nay'e 'e can e-zen see iss 'e can talk den down in duh cost."

Admittedly, Jack knew next nothing about cars. But she did know that you were supposed to barter a bit. Right?

"Jack, have you beaten any guys up lately?" the eldest of the brothers demanded excitedly, "At the club?"

Jack shook her head, "New clu-h now. Don't get to knock as nanny heads now."

"Ah, what? Why!! That's the best part!"

Jack carefully forked a glob of hashbrowns. She explained, "Sun-tines, you get older, and you need to 'ay rent to lizz in your house. Dis new jaw, dey gizz ne nore none-ey. Get to 'e a... nan-a-ger."

The prawn then took a bite, "Nake duh rules. I'n in charge."

The role of authority seemed to appease the brothers.

Jack made quick work of the breakfast, pausing occasionally to answer the boy's queries and amuse them with stories of school and work. She stumbled her way through conversations, occasionally casting an imploring glance towards Zinnia when the need for help arose. It wasn't polite to pull your phone out at the table, but her speech capabilities only went so far. Once the prawn's plate was clean, she went to the sink to rinse it off, but not without touching clenched mandibles to Zinnia's forehead.

"Sank you," the prawn reiterated, "Awe-sun, as al'ays."

If ever someone was going to be flexible on price it would be when there was a massive rainbow prawn overseeing the transaction. She’d seen that particular magic work before. She would feel bad if that was the only reason she was inviting her girlfriend, but seeing as any time spent together was good time in her books there was no guilt.

Her brothers pressed Jac for violent details, but the kind of violent from video games or movies, not the kind where actual people you knew and cared about could get hurt. She was pleased Jac had a safer job now. Much to the exaggerated groans of the brothers.

She revelled in the simplicity of it all for a while, helping finish the prawn’s sentences when she fumbled for a work, chiming in with her own work anecdotes where relevant. All too soon the meal was over and the lads excused themselves to get ready for their respective weekend extracurriculars.

She moved her own dishes to the sink and leant into the tender peck from the prawn.

“Haha, you know I didn’t cook that, not nearly burnt enough! But you’re welcome. Always.”

A moment later to collect a coat and they were on their way to the bus stop. It wasn’t too far, and time spent in good company always seemed to move faster. The bus was on time, their tickets valid, they didn’t even have any problems with fellow passangers aside from the occasional stare, which was really to be expected. Despite the prevalence of the X-gene in the city, many people hadn’t seen a visible mutant in the flesh, or in this case shell, before and definitely not one so shiny as Jac.

The ride passed without incident and she squeezed the large primary as their stop approached.

“This is us.”

The little envelope of cash seemed to burn in her inner coat pocket. She wanted that car.

Jack had lingered in the living room and the doorways and the entryway as Zinnia finished getting ready, looking at the pictures that hung upon the walls of the house. Family portraits. Happy portraits. There was always a burbling nostalgia when Jack thought about the idea of a mutant staying close to their family-- a yearning and a curiosity. If she wasn't all-prawn, all the time, would her family have kept her? Could they have overlooked the chitinous carapace and kept in-touch with her?

Probably not. Her dad had never been a particularly openminded fellow, even when she was still human. Zinnia had really hit the familial jackpot. And Jack was simply happy to be along for the ride.

Though public decency sort-of demanded that they bumble like anxious teens, public transport incurred a sort of protectiveness in the prawn. This was her Zinnia, and if anyone had the audacity to give them trouble just because Jack and Zinnia were riding together, they'd better adjust their attitude. Never-mind that they were both women. Most people couldn't tell that, just by looking at the two of them. Jack tucked a casual arm around Zinnia's shoulder and let her hand rest on Zinnia's side. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Besides, the prawn's arms were much too long to hold hands while the two were seated.

The ride proceeded in silence, for which the prawn was slightly greatful. She was self-conscious about her speech when in close quarters with strangers.

>> “This is us.”

Zinnia squeezed the prawn's hand, earning an affirmative and wordless burble of acknowledgement. Jack roused herself from the seat. It was an uneventful trip. Good.

Jack led the way off the bus, grunting a word of "Sanks," to the bus driver as they disembarked. Like a good prawn, she lingered on the sidewalk, waiting for Zinnia to join her. When her fellow young woman finally stepped off of the bus, Jack beamed at her.

"Okay ca'tain," Jack said jovially, " 'ere are 'e headed?"

Jac seemed somewhat pensive on the ride over, so Zinnia kept silent, running her fingers up and down the massive forearm until they arrived, unchallenged, at their destination. If she wasn’t so excited to go and collect the car she would have been happy to ride the bus for longer, snuggled up in the space between primary and secondary arms. As it was she practically bounced off the bus, barely containing her glee. She was so wrapped up that she almost forgot her coat, and had to scamper back for it before exiting the bus. That would have been bad.

“ere are ‘e headed?”

Zinnia looked up the street, then down it. For a moment she felt a flicker of fear that they were lost, but then she spied the unmistakeable yellow W suspended in the sky on a pillar, Wackdonalds, the cheapest, most averagest burgers around. There were always people around, and security cameras and the like, which is why she had chosen it as a meeting place. Even with Jac-backup she wasn’t about to take risks for getting rumbled.

“This way!”

They found the parking lot with no trouble, and there it was, gleaming and yellow in the sun like a lemon skittle. A man was leaning against it, he started when the pair came into view and his eyes clamped firmly onto Jac. Zinnia did a head-to-toe sweep looking for any tell-tale bulges of holstered guns before nodding to the guy.

“Tom, I’m guessing? I’m Zin, this is Jac,” she nodded to the towering bulk of muscle and shining shell. The man swallowed deeply and forced a smile onto his face, despite the terror that clearly gripped him.

“Nice to meet ya. Here she is. I guess you wanna have a look, do you wanna have a look, coz you can have a look. You can have a drive if you wanna, or open the hood or whatever, it’s all legit I swear.”

He had seemed a lot more cool and collected over the phone when they were discussing price, but the colossal shrimp sometimes had that effect on people. Nodding in agreement Zinnia lifted the hood and began checking all the things the internet had warned her to check, valves and tubes and sections which needed to not have rust. If all was in order here she was happy to settle on a price and let the poor guy go, as he was clearly soiling himself, as it were, at the proximity of Zin’s protecto-prawn.

The prawn followed Zinnia down the street, eyes roving their surroundings as they went. She stayed a few strides back. They past storefronts and a fastfood joint that smelled absolutely stomach-churning. The prawn burbled in discontentment, readjusting her focus on Zinnia's retreating form. In a few quick strides, the prawn caught up. Just as they rounded the corner into the parking lot.

The man looked like his stomach had dropped down past his knees. Absolute petrification. Jack made no indication to reassure him, just fixed him with an unflinching look. She was measuring him with her eyes. People who were uneasy didn't play stupid games. Zinnia introduced herself and Jack to the man, and Jack nodded upwardly at the man, again saying nothing. The smaller woman popped the hood, and the prawn hovered over her shoulder.

I don't know what the f**k I'm looking at.

But she made a show as if she did. Jack was picking apart the truck with a keen eye. Yup, that was definitely an engine.

"Had any issues 'iss duh truck?" the prawn grunted, her gaze cutting from the engine compartment. The man sputtered a response. It had had issues with some crucial mechanical part in the past, but he'd replaced, so it was in tip-top shape.

"N-not a lot of miles, either, for its age," the guy explained anxiously, "I mostly used it when I went on camping trips out of town. The beds decently-sized and it fits four full-grown Average Joe's no problem."

His gaze, which lingered on Zinnia, flicked towards Jack briefly. She was picking-up what he was putting down. The prawn would probably fit, is what he was suggesting.

"Should take it sore a ride, just to 'e sure it runs okay," Jack murmured to Zinnia.

(ooc: so I was thinking maybe, for the test drive [if they do one] perhaps the owner would drive it?)

Jac was making no efforts to put the poor guy at ease, he squirmed and Zinn made an effort to keep her poker face in check. Knowing how much of a softie the prawn was inside made it tricky to see her as the terrifying hulking figure that others saw at first glance. Though, to be fair, she had never really seen her girlfriend at work.

The guy’s attempt at political correctness with the ‘average-sized Joes’ almost cracked her again, but she nodded solemnly and noted the new replacement in her mind. She knew roughly where it was on the car, but she wasn’t going to point and risk embarrassing herself if she indicated the wrong part. She nodded at Jac’s suggestion and swung the hood shut, careful of all limbs primary or otherwise. It wouldn’t do to crush an antennae at the start of what was otherwise shaping up to be the start of an adventure.

“Ok, let’s give her a whirl.” The guy glanced at the keys and the pair of women. He said nothing, but the implicit risk that they would simply drive off and leave him rattled, carless and cashless was too high.

“You drive then.” Zinnia gave him an out without making him ask. It meant she could concentrate on listening to the engine, and watching for any billowing smoke or steam. She would also check that the heating and cooling worked, though they weren’t deal breakers they were points for negotiation.

The drive went without incident, out around the block making a combination of left and right turns to ensure that everything was in order. The truck made no unusual noises, and was remarkably quieter than she had thought it would be. The interior was clean(ish, it was a truck after all) and upholstery in good nick. All in all she was satisfied.

The only feature she overlooked, so focused was she on looking for defects, was that it was a stick-shift. It hadn’t been mentioned on the sales ad because it was a truck and weren’t all trucks manual?

After a final walk-around to check for any unforgivable dings or scratches she was ready to haggle. She opened with a price three quarters of what she was willing to pay, a fair chunk less than the advertised price. Tom didn’t even hesitate. He had the paperwork out of his ride and on the hood signed in all the relevant places and x’d in all the places she needed to sign. After a brief skim to ensure that it was all relevant paperwork, and that there was a copy for each of them Zinnia signed off on the papers and handed over the envelope (she had hurriedly removed the additional quarter and stuffed the loose cash into her purse while he was getting the papers).

With the briefest of pleasantries and the assurance that she would call him if anything unexpected turned up in the first three months of ownership (per their papers) the deal was done.

She hadn’t seen anyone hustle like this guy hustled in a long time. He was in his ride and encouraging the other driver out of the parking lot faster than she could say ‘stick shift’. She turned to her girlfriend, the long held poker face dissolving into to chortle.

“Well, bye then” she said to the rapidly disappearing car and rolled her eyes at the prawn, some people just couldn’t handle a mutation. “That went just about as well as it could have.” She indicated the glaring yellow letter above them with a barely hidden grin, “hungry?” She was only teasing of course, let the word hang in the air for a moment before dissolving into giggles. That pile of chemicals masquerading as food was bound to set off the sensitive tastebuds (taste…feelers?) in her special one’s special mouth.

Zinnia seemed profoundly amused by the prawn's stoicism, but kept it to herself. The quip about "four Average Joe's" also amused the prawn, but she betrayed no glimmer of amusement. Zinnia insisted that the man drive, quelling his hesitantce.

"I'll wait here," the prawn said, certain that the three of them wouldn't fit very comfortably, and not wishing to crowd Zinnia into the back. Jack squeezed Zinnia's shoulder in a quiet farewell, leveling a stare at the man as they climbed in. Jack didn't budge while they took the truck for a test drive. It sounded fine as it pulled off of the lot and, minutes later, it returned. Jack perked noticeably as Zinnia disembarked.

"How 'uzz it?" the prawn mumured. It seemed good. They circled the truck, assessing cosmetic damage, and then began talking prices. If it could even be called "talking prices". Jack knew haggling was part of the process, and that the buyer was supposed to try lower while the seller overpriced the vehicle. Unlike in a store, where the price was what you saw unless you had a coupon, pricing on cars (especially with private sellers) was fluid.

The guy zoomed away and spilled into the car of his friend, before the two of them sped out. It would seem that the massive prawn had given him the willies. Jack glanced over at Zinnia, who quickly eroded now that the man was gone.

>> "Well, bye then”

"Hey," Jack teased, lightly bapping her girlfiend's stomach with the back of her hand, "I 'uzz just trying to 'e sure he 'asn't going to railroad you. 'iss he's scared, he ain't gonna 'lay any gains."

The delight was contagious, though. They'd gotten a truck with surprising wheels. Now, Zin could take on the world.

>> "That went just about as well as it could have. Hungry?”

Jack gave Zinnia A Look™ and a discontented burble.

"I 'ould sooner eat your shoe," the prawn announced, a smirk touching her features. She touched a hand to the small of Zinnia's back, urging her towards her new truck, with the suggestion, "I'n sure 'e could signed sun-sing nor... edi'le? Like... tires? Nuclear 'aste?"

She was being facetious, of course, but anything was better than the Golden Arches.

There was definitely no games being played by this guy. He wasn’t even on the field anymore. Poor dude. But no time to think on him now, they had vehicular freedom! Partay! Jac seemed of the same opinion, guiding her into the car with a hand which spanned almost the width of her back.

“As delicious as these ballet flats look,” she wiggled them towards her girlfriend to prove her point, “I just don’t think they’d be filling enough for the both of us.”

She smirked along with Jac’s suggestions, making 'mm-mm' noises as if that was the most delicious lunch imaginable. She hop-wiggled into the cab of the truck and fumbled the keys into the ignition. Turned them. And there the problem started.

Gurh-gurh-gurh. The truck lurched forward, then back. A very uncomfortable noise indeed. Zinnia jerked her hand off the key and pouted.

“But… it didn’t do that before…?”

A hurried check of the dash lights (nothing other than the seatbelt light, which she rectified just in case) and the fuel indicator... nothing amiss...

"I didn't do anything?"

The gear stick waited patiently to be put into first.

>> “As delicious as these ballet flats look, I just don’t think they’d be filling enough for the both of us.”

"You could has duh sake sood," the prawn reassured her girlfriend, nodding sagely. As though this "fake food" would help mitigate the issue of shoes not being enough for the two of them. Jack went to the passenger side of the truck, popped open the door, and carefully folded herself into the passenger-side seat in the front. With some minor adjustments (sliding all the way back, reclining the back) she almost fit. Her legs still lightly bumped against the glove compartment, her head was an inch from the cieling of the cab, but here she was-- in the passenger seat of a car. Jack ran a hand over her antennae. It took her a moment to remember to fasten her seatbelt.

"Hasn't 'een in a car in years," the prawn observed. She'd ridden in a cargo van for a few Chrysalis events, but a normal size car? It'd been at least since coming to New York, she hadn't been in a normal-sized car.

Zinnia slid the keys into the ignition and started the car. She tried to accelerate, and the car sputtered and choked. The prawn trilled in confusion, looking towards Zinnia. It had driven just fine when they'd pulled out of the lot the first time. Jack had watched them drive away, no problem. Jack also had a limited knowledge of cars, even on the most basic, how-to-drive level. She knew it required a key to start... that you could put in park and reverse and neutral...

"Nay'e it's in neutral?" the prawn asked, not sounding entirely sure of herself. Her gaze drifted towards the stickshift, but she wasn't entirely sure of the purpose it served.

It was true, she could eat the deep fried death and leave the footwear to the prawn… but then she would be barefoot, and too greasy for kisses, no that really wouldn’t do at all. They would need to figure something else out for lunch.

“Hasn’t ‘een in a car in years.”

Zinnia fixed a gaze on her girlfriend. Sometimes it was hard to really appreciate just how big she was. Until moments like this, where she was squeezed into a space which to others would be positively roomy. Or sometimes when Zinn went to kiss what equated to her cheek, if Jac wasn’t ready and assisting there was no chance of getting near her face. Her chest, maybe, but her secondary arms presented their own challenges. What a funny life they led.

After a few deep, soothing breaths Zinnia reassessed the situation. Unless the seller had been some kind of car-sentience creator (which well may have been the case, it was difficult to rule out anything in a world where you were dating a giant shrimp and people were generally ok with it) then there must be a simple explanation for the noises. Said giant shrimp offered a suggestion which was as beautifully horrifying as it was simple. Neutral. This was a manual.

And she could only drive auto.

“You are a genius my dear. And I am an idiot. I haven’t driven with gears before.”

Well, not really, she had had a couple of lessons, but it was a bit advanced and the roads near their house didn’t exactly lend themselves to learner driver comfort.

“Still, no time like the present!”

She critically observed the stick looking for the lowest number, and with a bit of grinding and groaning, coaxed it into place.

“Onwards! To victory!”

The vehicle hopped and shuddered, but began moving in a consistently forward motion with the engine still running. So far, so good.