InsaneJournal

Who: Iris, Sam, and Tess
What: Sisterly meetings, hangs, and shopping
Where: Around Las Vegas... really, it's not that specific. A shop.
When: Today? Recently?
Warnings/Rating: Sibling teasing! Talk of naughtiness.

It seemed to Iris that she was always nervous recently. Nerves had become a near constant companion, and it was beginning to take its toll. She rarely had an easy time sleeping, but the nerves had kept her awake even more than usual, and though she never usually wore much makeup, she carefully patted some under her eyes to try to camouflage the darker circles there. Much like she was when she first met Sam, she was worried about meeting Tess. That, layered with worries about her next meeting with Damian, had her pacing in her room after she was ready for them to pick her up.

Even though it had been deemed “too old” and “out of fashion”, Iris slipped on the grey dress she’d tried to convince Sam to let her wear the other night. It was soft, not too clingy, not too revealing, and made her feel comfortable. It was safe, and wouldn’t stand out too much, attract much attention. She knew she would likely be trying on a lot of things, and to have some of her own clothing that made her feel safe seemed like a very good idea. Everything else ready, she continued to pace as she waited.

Sam was nowhere near Tess when Iris agreed to a joint shopping spree, but that didn't stop her from texting her older sister (Get your ass over here.) the address to Anton's place. Sam had been trying to agree to get Iris to meet Tess for weeks now, and she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity, even if it came with shopping, which wasn't Sam's favorite fucking thing. But, yeah, she found a cab, gave the driver directions, and kept her iPod buds tucked in for the entire ride. She tried to concentrate on the opera blaring in her ears, but her thoughts kept straying to everything that was screwed up in her life, and she gave up on Muzetta's problems in her ears after a few seconds.

By the time the cab stopped, Sam had spent half an hour focusing on Micah and Neil and Louis and Iris and Loren and Jack, and she wasn't any closer to figuring anything out. And that didn't even include her own shit, which she did her best not to focus on, ever. She'd promised Loren she would be clean for a week, and that was as far as she was looking. An entire fucking week of people running into her that she had to keep from lighting up with her blowtorch. It was sure to be a blast, especially on the work site. She groaned as she climbed out of the car in cargo shorts and a white wifebeater, and she paid the driver in loose change, which just pissed him off. She waited on the sidewalk, figuring someone would join her eventually.

Normally simple messages like the one Sam sent her would send Tess in a long drawn out game of twenty questions. But life had been uninteresting for her lately, and the exact opposite for her sister. When Sam told her to go, she went, bracing for an emergency but hoping for the opposite. With the way things were going in Vegas these days, the luck could go either way.

Once she arrived at the address and spotted the familiar figure of her sister, Tess animatedly shouted at her cab driver to stop and pull over. Paying him quickly she tumbled out of the cab, smoothing down the short fabric of her striped orange and pink dress, blonde hair messily tumbling over her shoulders. “Where’s the fire?” she asked as she shuffled over to her sister in in her flip flops.

The time came and went when Iris thought everyone was supposed to show up. She checked the time with every reverse turn of her pacing, wondering if she should call Sam, or at least text. Maybe they were both running late. Or maybe they’d both decided to not show up. Finally giving in, she sat on the chair in her room and pulled out her phone to text a quick Where are you? to Sam.

Sidewalk, was Sam's reply. "If we go inside, she won't fucking come out," she told Tess with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Sam did a whole lot of fucking pretending that she was ok, but her recent run in with a whole bunch of party drugs showed on her face, and she looked tired and worn out. She thought she'd masked that pretty fucking well, though, and it was only the momentary lapse and a cheek pressed to Tess' shoulder as she took the weight off one foot that gave anything away, she thought, but she missed fucking home. It was hysterical. She missed home. She was going fucking nuts. "Iris," she added belatedly. "We're shopping for her dates with that kid behind her door, the one I told you about."

The facade was a good one though Tess wasn’t fooled. They were close, after all, and the second Sam’s head pressed to her shoulder, Tess tilted her head to press her temple to her hair. It was a small, fleeting, gesture but there nonetheless, a small acknowledgement between the two in lieu of hugs and more obvious fretting. It was enough for them.

“Right, the bat bird guy. Robin?” Tess lifted her head to look at her sister, a quick question in her eyes. “Are we sure he’s not gay? I mean he wears hot pants to fight crime, or whatever, with a man in a rubber suit and mask.”

"They kissed or some shit? I don't think he's gay. I think he might be like five, but he's not gay. Anyway, I'm not really sure Iris would be able to tell. She's kind of- You know what? You just need to fucking meet her. You'll get where I'm coming from." Sam straightened, a tired smile on her lips the only indication that she was thankful of the gesture of affection. "Also, I've settled on the hot dark haired guy for you," she said, tucking a strand of blond hair behind Tess' ear, before shoving at her shoulder. "He's hot. You better give me all the dirty fucking details after."

“My new sister is dating a fictional crime fighting baby. God, I can’t wait for her to bring him home at Christmas.” Her headshake was stopped as Sam smoothed back her hair, and both blonde eyebrows shot up at the mention of their other future outings. “Only if you do the same. You got someone for yourself, right?” Complicated didn’t even begin to cover what little Tess knew about Sam’s love life but she was sure someone new would at least be a nice enough change of pace. “Where’d you find this guy, anyways?”

"I don't know. Things with Neil are- We kind of admitted we want to fuck each other? So, yeah, no fucking clue. I can bring him along. You should meet him anyway. Give me the old unbiased opinion about what the fuck is going on there," Sam explained, and then she smiled at the thought of Iris bringing some tiny Robin for Christmas. "You can bring the high chair, baby," she teased. "And if someone tries to steal the fucking turkey, we will be so set. He can batarang it back or some shit. Better yet, maybe Louis' cartoon guy can come instead of Louis. They can have some kind of comic book war over the cranberry sauce. We wouldn't even fucking need any E. That would be a trip all by itself."

“Bring him along! We’ll make it a double. I haven’t had a date date in... shit, I don’t even remember how long. So this’ll take the edge off.” The idea of a war waged at the dinner table probably was closer to truth than fiction, but still Tess couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. “This needs to happen. I’m demanding it. Think Iris will let me meet her new baby boyfriend? It’s my sisterly duty to judge all potential boyfriends. Not just yours, you know.”

"We'd need to have Christmas in one of those new fucking door rooms. Where, for the record, the stupid singer in my head is trying to fuck some guy I already fucked here. It's so fucking sloppy seconds." She texted Iris again (Get your ass down here), all without missing a beat in her conversation with Tess. "Ok, we'll see if I can get my old man on a double. We've done that before, kind of, and he was really fucking well behaved. I think he feels like he has to be, since our brother is his brother, and how fucked up is that?"

Iris’ phone chimed the text notification from a half-shadowed corner near the door to the building, where she’d been lingering while she waited for Sam and Tess to come to a pause in their conversation, not wanting to interrupt. She’d left the apartment upon receiving Sam’s first text, and it was nearly impossible to tell how long she’d been standing there. She’d admittedly been about to slip back into the building when the text arrived at her phone, announcing her presence far better than she had herself. Her pale eyes were wide as she took in the two of them standing there, looking for (and finding) the similarities between them, how comfortable they were with each other. For one brief second, she was surprised at how much of an outsider she felt, how little of herself she could find in their faces. Despite how ‘sisterly’ she’d tried to be with Sam, it wasn’t anything close to what was obviously a deeply forged bond between the two women standing there in the sunlight. One that had come through years and that she would never have with either of them. While part of her pulled back to wrap around the sharp sting that caused in her chest, the rest of her was glad that Sam had someone she could turn to in Las Vegas now. Iris had obviously been doing a poor job of it herself if the half-hidden signs of stress on Sam’s face could be believed.

“He’s not a child,” Iris said quietly, though her own uncertainties about their difference in age were obvious in her voice. She’d been doing her best to put her mental protests to the side, but hearing other people say the sorts of things that were in her own mind made it nearly impossible. Her hands shook slightly even as she folded them together, and no matter how tightly she twisted her fingers together, it didn’t quite help. The thought of venturing out to shops and trying on clothing had suddenly lost all appeal, especially since she was really only doing it for a meeting she wasn’t certain she should go to now. Taking a step back, she looked at Sam and shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, then winced to herself at the apology. “It was nice to meet you,” she said, attention shifting for a brief moment to Tess before she turned back to the building’s door to go back inside.

“Oh come on now,” Tess cooed, immediately untangling herself from Sam and slipping her arms over Iris’. Personal boundaries? What personal boundaries! Iris was now family and that entitled her to hugs and teasing, the order depending on the day. “Okay so he’s not a child, you got me there. I’m just jealous because he sounds totally better than my last husband. I mean, he’s a law abiding citizen wherever he is. Gotham?” She looked back down at Iris and then at Sam for some confirmation before shifting back to her new sister.

“Which means he’s leagues better than the con man I got hitched to and better than some of Sam’s ex boyfriends. We’re just jealous of your bat boy. Man. Bird. Boyfriend.” Tess flashed a wide smile.

Sam should have felt some embarrassment at getting caught smack talking, but, yeah, no. Maybe it was growing up with all those boys around. She nodded about Gotham, and she smiled as Tess tucked Iris in like a mother hen (Tess had always been good at that mother hen shit), and then she stepped away to hail a cab. She yelled back from the sidewalk, not giving a shit who heard. "Hey, fuck you! I dated that one decent boy when I was ten." Which was a lie, but whatever. "Anyway, he's a teenager. So what? Like I told Iris, the age difference is less than the age difference between me and Neil and nothing can top the thirty-year age gap between me and my unfortunate spouse." She gave them a mock bow, because she totally nailed that shit, and then her expression softened slightly as she looked at the two of them. "Who would believe this shit, huh? Tess and I used to wonder where you'd gotten off to when we were little. Well, Tess more than me, since she's the one that gossiped and told me about you in the first place." Sam had been born years after the two kids were sold, and it had been Tess who filled in the details. Her brothers just pretended no one else existed in the family.

Iris couldn’t help the way her entire body tensed at Tess’ embrace, blinking in surprise at the other woman. She hadn’t expected anything quite so forward as a hug from someone she didn’t even know. She wasn’t used to either hugs or teasing from anyone, even siblings. She’d always gotten along with her siblings, and while some of them had been quite close, she’d always been a little too quiet to be on the receiving end of any normal sibling behavior. And that was before she’d lost her vision; it was even worse after. Tess’ words moved quickly, and it was hard for Iris to keep up when she was still trying to process the arms around her. She nodded at the passing words, even though she wasn’t sure that Damian always quite followed the letter of the law in Gotham. It was a fine line for vigilantes, as much as she could tell.

Her gaze slipped between Tess and Sam when they both started talking, and she was again hit by how well they seemed to fit together, words flowing at the same time, back and forth. They continued what she thought was the teasing, Sam listing off all the different age differences, but Iris couldn’t quite be calmed by the listing. Sam was the younger of each of those couples, and it was different being the older party. Especially when the older party was a woman. But... spouse? Had she known Sam was married? A few quick blinks passed as she tried to catch up with everything again, feeling lost in the conversation even more than she usually did. She hadn’t quite thought past Louis and Sam to ponder the other siblings in the family, and the mention of the past pulled up memories of when they’d first. Of how Sam said they’d hated Iris and Louis when they were younger. That didn’t seem like the sort of “gossip” that Iris wanted to think about. It made her nod vaguely as she tried to slip from the embrace without seeming rude. “I know,” she finally said, still nodding at Sam. “You told us...” She wrapped her arms around her sides, knowing that she was drawing in on herself, but she couldn’t quite stop it. She gave Sam a flicker of an uncertain smile, barely a movement of her lips, before she turned to Tess. “I’m sorry,” she said again, truly sincere this time and trying to swallow back the way the apology made her throat hurt. She somehow needed to apologize for how her life had taken such a different path than the siblings that remained with their family, and she didn’t know how else to do it.

“Don’t be sorry!” Tess said gently, hands moving up to gently tuck Iris’ stray blonde hair over her ears. “You didn’t do anything. Just mom and dad being greedy fucks. And hey, you found us now. Or we found you. Or we found each other. Whatever, point is, you’re here. You’re family. I get to meet your boyfriend at Thanksgiving.” She gave her another warm smile before spinning the girl around and urging her into the cab that Sam hailed.

“Anyway, like she said, whatever age difference you two have is nothing against Sam’s mister or her not-boyfriend.” Struck by a thought, Tess leaned around Iris to squint inquisitively over at the other sister. “This guy you’re setting me up with. He’s not fucking ancient, is he?”

"Christmas," Sam corrected with a laugh. "We're meeting him at fucking Christmas. And first things fucking first, we need to find Iris an outfit for her next date," she teased, watching as Tess herded Iris to the cab. "Seriously, Tess, you should have been a fucking sheepdog or something. I told Neil you watched me like a fucking hawk, and he said you could check on me at his place."

Sam slid into the cab, and she winked at the driver, who clearly had no fucking idea what he was getting into. Neither did Iris, but hey, she and Tess were raised just a little unconventionally, and absolutely nothing was fucking sacred ever with them. Once the cab was moving, after Sam gave directions to a nearby shopping center off the strip, Sam turned slightly in the crowded back seat. "He's not as young as Iris' guy, but he's younger than anyone I've dated. He's... I don't think he's hit the big Three-Oh yet, you fucking ageist."

“I don’t think it’s really a date,” Iris protested as she was carefully shoved into the cab, her toes scuffing against the ground when she was spun quickly. “And he’s not my boyfriend... or my guy...” Her protests were still quiet though, and trailed off, barely able to keep up with her louder sisters as the three of them settled into the cab. She folded her hands in her lap after smoothing her skirt down and tried not to think about what Damian would say about those labels. She wasn’t certain if the reaction from him would be good or bad. At some point she caught up with the fact that Sam was setting Tess up with someone, and she tried to follow the conversation from there.

“Of course it’s a date! We’re going shopping for clothes. That takes us right into date territory.” Never mind all the other instances, specially non-date ones, that shopping could be for. Tess had a point. She was determined to make it. “What kind of things were we thinking of? To wear?” She looked to Iris expectantly for a moment before shifting her gaze to Sam, who might have a better answer.

“And just so you know,” Tess couldn’t help but wag a finger in Sam’s direction, “I don’t fucking care how old anyone is as long as they can buy me drinks. But with your track record I was just curious if I should be asking how long he has left to live and if he’s got a fuck ton of money.”

"I'm doing really well on the fuckton of money front recently, just so you fucking know. Wait until you see the Aria suite. It's a fucking monster," Sam said, pointing a finger at Tess over Iris' nose. "And my husband is still paying the fucking rent for our esteemed parents, so there. Age is just a number. Right, Iris?" she asked, sitting back, not really aware that it was fairly easy to misconstrue her and Tess as being out for cash. "Anyway, it's a date. He likes her," she said fondly, glancing at Iris, before sitting back and fishing a wrinkled ten out of her pocket to pay the driver, since the cab was slowing to a stop.

Fare paid (mostly, the driver was griping about a tip), Sam climbed out of the car and waited for Iris and Tess to join her on the curb outside the mall. "Iris should pick the store. We'll take her to fucking JCPenny’s or Sears," she said honestly. Iris bought nicer shit than either of them did, and Sam had no real idea where decent shit was procured.

Iris listened to the conversation move around her, not even answering Tess’ question about what she might want to wear because everything moved past shopping so quickly. Their conversation, rather than make her judge them about looking for money, made her look down at her hands and go quiet, guilty that she had never had to think about money in that way. The comment about Sam’s husband paying the rent shook her, and she stayed silent, not even responding to Sam’s question. It didn’t seem to matter much, since Sam continued on without an answer. When the car stopped, she watched as Sam paid, but easily heard the driver’s griping. She fished a twenty out of her wallet and handed it to the driver before reclaiming Sam’s money and slipping out of the cab. She handed it back to her with a shake of her head. “You said I had to pay today,” she said quietly, then softer, “We can go wherever. I asked you to help, so wherever you want.”

Sam rolled her eyes, but she grabbed Iris' hand and dragged her into the first small shop that didn't look like it catered to streetwalkers and showgirls. "Anyway," she added, glancing over to see if Tess was paying attention, which might mean she needed to talk faster, since Tess might freak or something. "I need a favor. I need Alfred," she explained, and it sounded like a bad idea, even as she said it. "Christine needs somewhere to live, and a guy has to rent it or something. Fucking 1900 France." Yeah, that was good, better to leave out the possibility of dying or causing multiple deaths. Yeah, sure, great.

Iris allowed herself to be dragged along, following wherever Sam thought would be appropriate to find something. Her footsteps hesitated though, at the next words out of Sam’s mouth. “Christine has no place to live?” The confusion was obvious on Iris’ face when she turned to Sam. “I thought...” She trailed off, trying to recall the things she’d seen in the journal, piece together bits of conversations that she only sometimes thought to read through. Even as she tried, a soft nudge in her mind caused her to reply. “Of course. He says he’ll help.”

“Getting your headcases to help. That’s new. Mine’s just a raging bitch all the time.” Tess paused a moment as a thought struck her and she rolled her eyes. “I mean she’s a frigid bitch,” she corrected to seemingly no one, a smug grin tugging at her mouth. But soon they were in a store and Tess whirled around the racks to find something suitable. “Okay what are we looking for? Dressy? Sexy? Where is this date thing? How does one date? I mean, date them.”

Sam didn’t seem to be answering Tess’ questions, so Iris cleared her throat quietly. She felt strange asking who Tess had, as if it was some sort of breach of whatever strange etiquette had been formed around the issue of alters. She focused on the questions instead. “I... We’re meeting at the hotel. There are rooms where it’s possible.” She watched Tess move, trying to track her around the racks and tables, but she moved so quickly. “It’s not really a date,” she continued to insist softly. “...Just a meeting.”

"It's a date," Sam corrected. "They kissed the last time. Definite fucking date. I made her call him to make sure he made it home ok, and I bet he wanted to see her again." She raised a brow at Iris, daring Iris to contradict her, and she stopped on the way to some nice, date-ish dresses to hold up some very flimsy underwear. "Do you have any of these?" she asked, waving them like a flag at Iris, not caring in the slightest that she was making a scene with a thong. Tess got the eye roll this time. "Listen, my fucking soprano has decided to emancipate herself or some shit, and all with some guy I fucked over here. Tell me if that doesn't suck."

Iris opened her mouth to disagree with Sam, to insist again that it wasn’t a date. The underwear made her flush though. “Sam!” She was quiet, but obviously a little shocked. “No! I... Not like that. I don’t... There’s no reason...” It was hard to finish a thought with how flustered she’d suddenly become. She didn’t even pay attention to the rest of what Sam was saying, inching closer and reaching out to touch Sam’s arm, nudge her to put the underwear down.

“What the actual fuck?” Someone was throwing her sister over for some fictional ass? “Whatever. Isn’t she being stalked by some scary dude? The one with the mask? That’ll show him.” She flashed Sam a grin but her smile grew even wider at Iris’ stuttering. “There’s no reason to wear underwear in his presence? I feel like I’m learning something new about Robin everyday.” She pressed her shoulders to Iris, hoping to remind her that this was all good natured teasing, before turning and looking at more actual clothing on the racks. “What about this?” Tess reached forward and spun around, showing off a little red dress for her sisters.

"It's not like I'm into him or anything, Daniel, guy over here, whatever. But he got me over my dick fear when I was super wasted, which was nice of him. Not the fucking point! The fucking point is that mask guy? Is going to kill him. He's going to straight up possess Neil and kill him." And as serious as that was, the idea of Iris not needing underwear around Robin was fucking awesome. "You asked for that one," she told Iris, a nudge of her shoulder against Iris,' and an easy grin. Despite everything, she was in a great fucking mood. Maybe she was finally losing it. Whatever, and so she whistled when Tess spun around with the little red dress. "That's nice, Iris, and more conservative than what I sent you in."

Iris wasn’t sure she could blush any harder than she currently was. Her face felt warm enough that she was certainly bright red. She knew they were teasing, the sort of ridiculousness she’d heard at times among her siblings, but had never truly been on the receiving end of. She covered her face with both hands, trying to fight back the embarrassment, but it only got worse. “That’s not...” She paused, shaking her head. “Oh god... That’s not what I meant...” Her words were muffled behind her hands, but she peeked out between two fingers when Sam nudged her, looking over at the dress Tess was modeling and finally dropping her hands, skin still pink. “...You sent me in half a dress,” she whispered as she looked at Tess. “It’s very bright, isn’t it?”

“He’s a crime fighter in a costume. I don’t think blending in is really what he’s into.” Still she sighed as she put the dress back on the rack, whirling around until she found something else. “He’s not going to kill anyone. Right? I mean. They can’t really possess us. Right?” That was freaky thought and the sound of the hanger scraping against the rack was louder than Tess intended. This time when she turned back to her sister, she pulled out a navy dress, similar in cut, even if it dipped a smidge lower in the neckline than the last. “Better?”

“It’s a dark costume,” Iris protested. Maybe Damian wasn’t entirely about blending in, but something red seemed like more color than she thought she was able to wear. “It’s just... bright colors don’t suit me.” That wasn’t entirely true though. They’d suited her just fine as a child, when she’d worn plenty of colorful clothes. She was still staring at the red dress at Tess’ shift in focus, and for a moment thought they were still talking about Damian. “No! He hasn’t in a while, that I know of. And he won’t. He’s trying to make peace with his father.” She looked at the next dress, her hand raising to her chest to touch where it looked like the neck would fall. “It’s... better?” She was still uncertain, and it was obvious in her voice.

Sam kept her mouth shut. Nope, no more conversations about possessing people. Damian was a better focus. Yep. "It's a dark costume," she repeated, trying not to laugh. Ok, well, maybe she didn't try so hard, and she burst out laughing after a few seconds. She shook her head at the blue, and she grabbed the red dress again and held it up to Iris. "No, this one's fucking perfect. You can wear red, Iris, and it'll be amazing on your skin," she insisted, not willing to let Iris' insecurity talk her out of a hot little number. And even though she understood what Tess meant about killing someone, she was perfectly willing to jump on the Robin-murder bandwagon, since it was somehow all less real. "It's Gotham, Tess. You know, like those fucking Batman comics and movies. They kill people all the time. It's not like here. In other words, chill, and do not fret, Tessy." She smiled at Iris. "Tess frets. It's an older sister thing."

“Right because that makes it so much better!” Tess couldn’t help but roll her eyes though really she no saint. “And less on the Gotham front and more on your possessed not boyfriend shanking people because they’re dicking your other self.” She caught a glance from a startled saleswoman and flashed her a grin. “Figuratively, you know,” she cooed before following Sam’s lead and tossing the navy dress overboard and returning to red.

“She is right, you know. You’d look good in red. I bet he’d love you in red too. Draws the eye and isn’t that the whole point.” Tess let her brows waggle for a moment longer than necessary before holding it up to Iris and spinning her to face a mirror to show her what the other two saw. “See? Gorgeous.”

Iris opened her mouth to argue again, to clarify, to say something, but then Sam was holding the dress up, and Tess was taking it and turning her, and Iris was caught face to face with herself in the mirror. She stared for a very long moment, the red difficult to look away from but her eyes finally moving up to double check that it was her face above all that red. She was still pink, the blush refusing to fade at all with the things that her sisters kept saying. She had to swallow more than once and clear her throat before she found her voice again. “This isn’t me,” she whispered, smoothing her hand over the dress that was draped along her body. She turned her head to look at Tess first and then Sam. “I don’t... draw the eye.” She couldn’t stop touching the fabric though, spreading fingers along her stomach.

"Of course you do," Sam said with a smile over Iris' shoulder in the mirror, and she rested her chin on Iris' shoulder. "We draw the eye everywhere we go, and you're family, so that means you do too," she said helpfully. And she and Tess did, though it was more demeanor than looks that managed that feat. "He'll love it. He won't be able to keep his hands off you," she declared, grabbing the dress and heading for the register with a brief stop in lingerie along the way. "Red or black?" she asked Tess who, admittedly, was much better with fashion than Sam herself was. "And, you know, the regular. Neil has the Phantom in his head. Enough explanation for today? Concentrate. Black or red?"

“Red,” Tess said with a tone of finality and a nod that made it extra official. “It’ll suit you, Iris. It’s a good color. He’ll love it. So then you’ll love it. And then you’ll admit that we did a good job.” Then she turned her official tones back to Sam. “Neil can’t let his headcase kill anyone. We’re going on a double date and I can’t hang with that shit. Con men, sure. Assholes, fine. Drummers, why not. Half murderers? Uh uh.”

Sam laughed. "You can tell him. Deal?" she asked Tess, and she grabbed a pair of red barely-there panties and a bra (which she held up to Iris' chest to guess at the size), and then headed for the counter. "Iris, come pay. We can all grab coffee after and discuss appropriate red-dress wearing behavior," she offered. Ok, maybe being un-drugged wasn't so bad for a day. She'd consider Loren's challenge, which, yeah, she'd been avoiding until then.

“I have my own underthings,” Iris tried protesting, but the red lingerie was already piled on the checkout counter on top of the dress. She reminded herself that she didn’t have to wear any of it, but she allowed herself to be herded to the register, handing her card to Sam instead of the clerk. The threat (or offer?) of behavior discussion made her shake her head, but she couldn’t help smiling at least a little at the sisterly feeling. She wasn’t any less nervous about the meeting, but the trip itself had been alright. Maybe more than alright, once she got past the embarrassment of it all.