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She's so quiet. Cordelia finds her writing on the wall of her room when she brings up food.
"Should you be doing tha-"
"Oh, I can cook, if you want, I mean, if it's a bother-" Fred paused, took the tray. "Thank you."
Cordelia wondered if maybe this time she could stay a little, but Fred's shuttered again, folding her body up concertina-like. Away from Cordelia.
"No, tha- that's okay, I mean … I just order—" She stopped. "You wanna cook?"
"Hm? OH! No, I mean – if you're happy doin' it, I just thought – if it was too much trouble I could –"
Cordelia put her hand out, almost. "It's okay, Fred. Not too much trouble. But, if you wanted to come cook for us, some time…" She smiled. "Might be nice."
Fred flicked on-off one of her smiles and nodded, mouth too full to speak.