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Mary has a milkshake, a Latin textbook, a Latin dictionary, and a half-written translation done in neat round lettering. She squints over all three for quite a while before she writes down anything new. (Mary is a perfectionist.)

Mary also has a knife, but it is sheathed and tucked in a pocket of her skirt, and is therefore not visible to the public.

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Like unto a Boy Scout, Mary prides herself on being prepared! She nods again and pulls the sheathed knife out of her pocket, holding it up.

"I have been carrying it in case you came."

He plucks it out of her hand and gives it the once over. "Fancy."

Then Duo draws it, holding the edge up to the dying light to make sure it's already sharp.

"I think it is very pretty," Mary says, without any self-consciousness whatsoever.

"It was a gift."

"I remember when you got it," he says in a dry tone.

"Keep in mind, it's not a knife's job to be pretty." He's checking the blade now, tapping it against the rock, looking at it up close. "It has to hold up through whatever you want it to do. I've seen some you could practically bend with one hand. Very pretty, completely useless."

"I know that."

Mary restrains herself from rolling her eyes, with an exertion of effort of which Duo should be proud.

"You know I am not the sort of person to care more if things are pretty than useful. I should much rather a thing be plain and work properly."

Duo snorts, amused. "I know. Just saying. Okay, so." The more serious look is back. "You've carried it around a little, held it some, I'm guessing. Probably looked at it too. How does it make you feel to have a knife?"

"It would make me feel much better if I could use it," Mary says, with heavy emphasis. "As it is it is only useful against someone who was very frightened or stupid."

"That's not what I asked you," he says, firm. "Tell me what you think, not what you think's gonna get me to show you stuff faster."

"I am not lying!" Mary says, injured.

"It is true that that is what I think. It does feel better to have it - it makes me feel more like someone to be frightened of. But I know I am not yet."

"I know you're not lying. And I'm glad you don't think so. A lot of people think they're hot stuff for having a gun or a knife or whatever. It makes 'em feel bigger than other people, because they can do what they want, and everyone will be afraid to stop them."

Duo shakes his head. "You can't ever get to thinking that way, because then you'll make a mistake. You'll hurt yourself or someone else who doesn't deserve it."

Mary inclines her head in another nod, very solemn and dignified indeed.

"I do not want to hurt anybody that I do not plan to. That is why I want to know what I am doing very well - that is why I want you to teach me."

"Flatterer. But good. Congrats, you're one step up on the street punks I used to know. Some soldiers, too.

"And to cement that thought of yours, we're going to have a little object lesson. Watch closely." Duo pauses to make sure he has her full attention.

Then he takes Mary's knife in his right hand and drags it carefully down in a line across his left forearm. It draws some blood, and it sure stings, but it won't need stitches. He's an expert, after all.

. . .

Mary stands in shock for a moment, and then grabs out, trying to take the knife back.

"Why did you do that! You hurt your- why would you do that!"

He holds it out of her reach, not teasing at all, but he doesn't want her grabbing it willy-nilly either.

"See how easy it is? The first time you want to use this on another person, you remember this. Because I don't want you doing anything you regret. I want you to be safe, I want you to be able to protect yourself."

Duo clenches his teeth a little. "But I was years younger than you the first time I...hurt someone with a knife, and I'll never forget it."

"I see how stupid that was!" Mary shouts, red spots blazing on her cheeks.

"That was not an accident, that was not unsafe, that was you hurting yourself on purpose. Only to show me something, as if it is nothing to you! I am the one who knows it is not nothing to hurt yourself - not you!"

Failing to reach the knife, she grabs for his arm, instead.

Angry, accusing: "I do not even know how to fix this, except only to wrap it."

"That's the point, Mary. You're going to hurt yourself learning how to use knives. It'll be by accident, and it'll hurt, you'll feel stupid, and it's over. It's not a big deal." He waves one scarred hand at her.

"It makes me feel like shit to hurt other people. Even if they're trying to hurt me. It sucks. I never want you to have to do it. But if you want to learn, you learn it all."

"I told you," Mary says, fighting back furious tears, "if I am going to hurt someone I am going to mean it. I told you! You maybe do not remember when I hit you - it was long ago now - but I remember! I learned! That taught me better about hurting people than you sticking yourself with a knife because you think it will make me feel bad - I am not responsible for what you just did, I do not feel anything but angry at you! And," she adds, glaring at the open wound, "worry that you will get tetanus if you do not do something about it!"

"I didn't do it to make you feel bad!" Oh boy, this is going downhill fast. "I don't want you to grow up like me, okay? So I'm a moron. Prove me wrong by never being as dumb as me, and you'll never have to use this." He wipes the knife off on a handkerchief, and hands it back to her, sheathed.

"I've got my shots," he adds, shaking his head and cleaning off his arm.

Mary snatches for it hastily and slides it back into its sheath before Duo can take it back and do something else lunatic.

Stubbornly: "You did, you said you did! Not in the way of being cruel, I know, but - it makes you feel terrible to hurt other people, you said, and you said I had to learn - you said that was the point."

"I meant-" Okay, Duo. In a conversation with a twelve year old, try to be the mature one, okay? Okay.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. Deep breath.

He takes a deep breath.

"Obviously we have some underlying issues that we should talk about sometime. But that time is not now. How about we start over?"

"I do not know what you mean by underlying issues."

Mary is still wary.

"I do not know what you mean by starting over, either. If it is from before the part where you cut yourself with my knife, we are not doing that again."

"...like I said, later. And no." She's getting to be a wise-ass! He is so proud. Duo tries to explain again, this time without dumping his worry in there too.

(She's right, he did want to scare her a little. He just doesn't want to admit it.)

"Look. You remember how hard to had to practice your punches. And even when you hit someone, you're not going to hurt them so bad they won't be walking around the next day. With a knife, it's different. I hardly used any strength at all. Just...think about it, okay? That's all. Moving on?"

We all know very well who's responsible for that!

"I still practice my punches," she tells him, chin jerked high - she's calmer now, but still clearly upset - and then jerks her head down again in a quick nod.

"If you tie that up with a bandage or something like, we can move on. Else," she adds, her sharp gaze almost a dare, "I shall start thinking I do not have to do anything about it when I am hurt, won't I? And we should not want that."

Duo manfully does not roll his eyes. He succumbs to the obvious manipulation anyway, in an attempt at peacemaking.

"Then let's go inside. I'll show you how to fix up a cut and tell if it's serious. And then, we'll talk about different kinds of knives, and the pros and cons of both, okay?"

Mary knows that knowing how to fix up a cut is useful information, if you're going to be using a knife.

(Or, apparently, if you're friends with Duo.)

Knowing the weak points of her own weapon, that's useful, too.

"Next time," she says, turning - and keeping an eye on Duo's cut, just in case - "will you start showing me how to use it? For real?"

"Next time, we work on how to carry and sharpen," he tells her, trying to sound stern. "In your pocket is not the right place, and you have to learn to take care of the knife before anything else."

He's still got the handkerchief on it as he gets up and leads the way toward the bar.

"It will do me no good to have it sharp and carried somewhere properly if I cannot use it -"

The argument undoubtedly goes on for a bit longer.

But there's probably some first aid instruction in there eventually, too.

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