Clothing Choices (Mike)

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

Clothes.

There were clothes everywhere.

They’d been shopping before. The stipend they got was satisfactory for their needs, sure, but because they wanted to have just a little bit extra to buy movies, posters and books for themselves as well as clothes. So secondhand shops tended to be where they went. Naomi actually found decent, trendy clothes and Orion had gone for the more conservative wear, although the two styles seemed to be blending more. Sometimes Naomi found herself reaching for his shirts, and she’d have to do some hasty work to make it look hip. And once Orion walked out in one of her shirts and they were both overtaken with a laughing fit and found themselves late for class.

But to actually go to a normal, if not that expensive clothing store…well, it was weird.

However, so far the twins were inclined to like Mike. He had demanded their cigarettes as soon as he’d found out they smoked, but Orion had managed to tame Naomi’s fit on that score. He’d even said they could learn to drive.

They thought they should wait to figure out who had the better eyesight first.

In any case, Mike was more like the foster parents that Orion had had. He was kind, if strict, and gave them their space. Any wariness they felt—and admittedly, they did—was mostly from Naomi, for whom this wasn’t normal.

”So…we can buy things?” This was from Orion. Naomi was mostly keeping silent, and behind him for now. Whether she liked Mike or not, she was inclined to be reserved until she was absolutely sure about him. Too many bad experiences that she tended not to talk about to anyone.

”You’re not gonna start objecting, are you?” This was from Naomi, albeit quieter than she normally did as she leaned over Orion’s shoulder to look at him. ”I mean, if I pick anything…revealing, you won’t care?”

”Please don’t.” In the weird moments when they were fully synced, it made Orion feel like he was half-naked.

[Mike Batista]

Over the years, Mike had learned which places sold clothes that lasted and at the same time didn't break the bank too badly but weren't things kids stuck their noses up at. Old Navy had durable, if somewhat plain, clothes, but nothing too risque for the girls and nothing that hung too low for boys. Their fall and winter stuff was in for Back to School, a mix of thicker t-shirts, long-sleeved stuff, and sweatshirts and sweaters. There were also a number of sales, though Mike wasn't going to point them out.

"Yep," he said, nodding, looking around. "I want both of you to have at least of five pairs of pants or bottoms and a dozen shirts or tops, taking into account what you already have that's useable. Don't bother with underthings or socks, we'll get those next. Layers are fine. But I want you to try everything on before I buy and make sure you can sit comfortably in whatever bottom you get."

”You’re not gonna start objecting, are you? I mean, if I pick anything… revealing, you won’t care?”

Mike hid a grin at Orion's comment, but he said to them both, "Here's my clothing policy: I see all the clothes you buy on my dime, and I don't want to see, if you're wearing a top and a bottom, underthings in any way, shape, or form due to cut, tightness, or sheerness of material." He smiled. "And not because you're not wearing any underthings." Yeah, he'd done this before. "I also don't want to see butt crack if you bend over or sit down, or more than an inch of underwear at your waistline. But I'm going to trust that I don't need to make you both come out of the dressing room every time so I can check on this, since you're sixteen. If you want clothes that fall outside my policy, that's fine, but you buy them yourself."

He knew their stipend would cover a few trendier pieces for each of them if they so wanted, though he doubted Orion had taste any more exotic than what the current store had. Another reason he liked Old Navy, both of them would have to do some heavy digging to find things that fell outside what Mike required in clothing. "We'll get coats, any underthings you might need, and a set of stuff for good after this. So. Go to it."

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

The twins weren’t really familiar with Old Navy. Sure, they saw the brand around, but they didn’t really buy clothes from there. They mostly bought clothes used, and Naomi—and therefore, Orion—had a fair hand at fixing them. They could hem things, sew on patches, and do other useful things, including cooking and cleaning. There was a benefit to being left on your own. You tended to learn how to take care of yourself.

Which made this whole situation even weirder. It had been four years since they’d had a foster parent of any nature. And Mike worried Naomi. He was too…calm.

”You mean you’re dictating how many clothes we get?” Naomi asked. “C’mon, doesn’t that seem a little autocratic—”

”Shut up, Naomi.” They were trying to stay on this guy’s GOOD side, after all. Besides, he could tell when she was protesting just for the sake of doing it.

”But we can buy those clothes…not on your dime?” Not that Naomi went that far. In this, Orion had had more of an influence on her. She wore tank-tops in the appropriate season, sure, and her tops could be a little low cut, but her outfits tended to be getting more…conservative lately. ”Seems fair,” Orion finished, because it did, to both of them.

Naomi waited a minute to see if he had anything else to say, but when he didn’t, she bolted. Orion swayed for a moment, assaulted with new sights—he really hated when she did that—then blinked a couple of times and smiled at Mike. ”Thank you,” he said, and went off with his sister. Getting clothes was always a hassle. If Mike were to watch them, he would’ve seen most of the time they spent arguing and dragging one another off to a different part of the store, because being separated for too long was a strain on their system. Naomi wanted brighter colors, like the neons that were so in. Orion’s expression could be best expressed as long-suffering when she pulled one of those on over his head. Orion, on the other hand, stuck to the plaids that were out of fashion. Eventually, they managed to settle. A couple of shirts that were nearly identical, despite being for the two genders. A couple of pairs of dark jeans—the only thing they hadn’t argued on, although Naomi also threw in a pair of short-shorts for later—and then layers for Naomi and some plain t-shirts for Orion that Naomi didn’t hate.

Clothing shopping had been so much easier, they decided, when they hadn’t even been close to syncing.

They arrived promptly with a cart and gave Mike a look. It really wasn’t that full—their repairs and stipend had given them enough clothes—but each of them seemed to be anticipating a fight.

”How’s that?” Orion offered, in the politer tones.

[Mike Batista]

Mike had been expecting objections, but he'd never gotten one about the amount of clothing in question, especially when he listed the base minimum. It made him raise his eyebrows a little, but he hid another smile when Orion overrode his sister.

"Yes, if you want clothes outside those categories, you buy 'em yourself." He had an idea that Naomi might buy a few pieces just to spite him, but he'd wait and see.

”Thank you.”

"De nada. You're welcome."

As they shopped, Mike wandered. They had clothes in his size, but Mike required layers and thicker material now that he was older and his side effects were more acute. Mostly he just looked around, people watched, looked at what was in style, and kept half an eye on the Stewarts to make sure they were shopping and not making any trouble. They zipped back and forth across the store till Mike wasn't entirely sure where they were at any given point, and there seemed to be a lot of bickering. Naomi was the more animated, the more demonstrative, while Orion was more stolid and unexciteable, a reluctant tugboat trailing in his sister's wake.

When they seemed done, Mike stationed himself near the front of the store in an easy to see place. When they found him, he could sense an air of burgeoning defiance, but he just smiled and looked through their choices, giving each piece a cursory glance.

"It's fine," he said. "But did you guys get enough, and will you be warm enough in what you picked out?" Mike held up his hands with a smile. "I have to ask. Winters are pretty brutal." He jerked a thumb towards the scenery outside the store's plate glass windows. "We get that for maybe another month, and then you won't see the ground till May."

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

”I know that.” It was nearly sullen. Naomi didn’t take these kinds of things well, and she didn’t like that none of her clothing choices had been found objectionable. She preferred to at least get some shock on their faces. None at all was—depressing. But only Naomi would really think like that. He had pegged their actions just right. Orion looked relieved that nothing had been chosen out, while Naomi was eyeing Mike as if trying to figure out the next way to get him to react.

Luckily for him, she seemed to be failing this particular analysis.

”We’ve been here for four years,” Orion explained, since Naomi wasn’t inclined to do so. ”And in Michigan before that.”

“So we don’t mind the cold, thank you,” Naomi was quick to add. Orion’s lips pursed, and there was a long silence of them staring at each other before Orion looked back at Mike and spoke again.

”We have some jackets,” he said. ”We stopped growing young, and we repair most of our, uh, stuff.”

”Besides,” Naomi added. ”Most of the ones here are useless. But if you insist, we’ll add some long sleeves or something boring like that.”

”If you’d like.”

It was Naomi’s turn to roll her eyes at this one. Orion had to be too nice always. Always. She folded her arms over her chest but didn’t say a word. This particular conversation wasn’t going how she’d expected it to. She knew it was possible from Orion’s memories, but she hadn’t ever expected a host family to be, well, nice. Especially when you weren’t being nice. Orion had always had the advantage of being cute. She—well, not so much.

[Mike Batista]

If Naomi had wanted to shock Mike, she was more than eighteen years too late and the fact she wasn't using any curse words meant she was also not anywhere near the worst Mike had ever dealt with. She'd also followed directions and shopped, and hadn't caused any disturbances in the store. When she said they didn't mind the cold, Mike shrugged. "Just because you're used to it doesn't mean you can't pick out some warmer stuff now that you have access to more money. I know the stipend, and I know that it's completely useless for practical amounts of cold weather clothing. But now the option's open if you care to take it."

Listening further, he smiled. "You don't have to add anything you don't want to, but I want you both to be comfortable. We'll get you guys fall coats at the next store, and winter coats and boots if you need them."

And if asked, Mike did think Naomi was cute. The defiant, stubborn ones always made him smile, and the way she acted sometimes reminded him of a much younger child. All she lacked were the blazing eyes, pressed lips, and stuck out chin.

"I doubt either of you have completely finished growing, either," he added. "Talk to me about that in two years."

Though in that respect he had Orion in mind more than Naomi, if just height were involved. He thought the boy might have another inch in him somewhere. In terms of her, Mike knew girls her age were still finishing development in the curves area, which would affect her clothing choices in more subtle ways, though another inch wasn't out of the question for Naomi either.

"But if both of you are finished, we can check out."

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

Naomi and Orion said nothing on that score. It was true. The plus of being a Gestalt was it was easy for them to huddle together for warmth, even if neither of them would ever admit aloud that that was what they did. They’d also bundled up in multiple layers, which had only worked part of the time. ”Thank you,” Orion said after a moment, because the words came out much easier from his mouth than from hers. ”You don’t have to do that, so it’s…”

”Nice that you are.” This was from Naomi, since she had more experience with the bad aspects of foster families.

“Sounds good,” the two said in chorus. They looked at each other in surprise, as it was one of the first times they’d been in sync since they’d arrived for shopping, then shrugged. Oh well. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

And as for the typical aspects of a stubborn child, Naomi had had those too. She’d just found sarcasm worked better for her later down the line.

”Him, maybe.”

”Her? Not so much.” Which would be weird. Right now they were the same size and could swap things like jackets and shirts (all in a one-way direction toward Naomi, of course, since Orion didn’t wear woman’s clothing. Later they’d get more comfortable, but not right now).

’Let’s just check out then.”

”Where to next, mister?”

[Mike Batista]

"You're welcome, and I do." Mike smiled at them. "Fostering means you're my legal responsibility, and for right now, that you're my kids. And both of those things mean that I'm not about to send you out in inappropriate clothing." The corner of his mouth quirked. "'Specially when sleeping like a rock means you might be walking to school this winter."

Mike's house rules varied according to the disciplinary level he had to enforce to ensure functionality, but as the Stewarts were not violent, overly defiant, or prone to truancy, they were fairly simple. Mike drove to school every morning to arrive half an hour before classes began, and he left every afternoon about half an hour after they ended (with both adjusted for meetings or emergencies). If his charges were not in the car when he left either time due to oversleeping or detention, they walked.

When Orion said they should check out, Mike took them at their word and maneuvered the cart into a lane. "Next is a department store for the coats, any socks or underthings you might need, something for good, and boots, if you need them. Not wanting them isn't a choice. Wearing them is, but..." He shrugged. If they wanted to freeze their feet that was their business, but Mike made all his fosters take along boots in the car whenever they went out in case of car failure or accident.

The contents of the cart came to three numbers in front of the decimal, but Mike paid without blinking an eye. He was used to it, and the money he paid was bolstered by what the state gave him for fostering. When it was bagged and in the trunk, Mike drove them over to the bigger store.

Inside, they were going to have to do things one at a time since ladies' and men's were on different floors. "Let's start with stuff for good. So a dress or a skirt and top for you-" Naomi "-and good pants, a dress shirt, and a tie for you-" Orion "-and shoes, if you need them. Decide who goes first."

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

The twins stared at him, clearly not sure if he was kidding or not. And when they finally figured out that he was indeed not kidding, but gave shudders in unison. ”Getting up on time,” Orion said.

”Totally got it.”

Walking to school in the winter wasn’t fun. They knew of that through Naomi’s memories. They’d grown up in Michigan, and Naomi had gotten to be extremely good at either bumming rides from parents of friends, skipping class, or scrounging up enough money for a bus pass. No surprise there.

But it was true that the twins were not violent, overly defiant, or even prone to (regular) truancy. Naomi on her own had been somewhat of the second, but even then she’d known that if you had a good home, you didn’t want to royally screw it up on purpose. It was easy enough to do that by accident. And Orion, who had always been the better of the two, now tempered her, and that made things much, much better.

”Why do you require boots?”

”What’s wrong with tennies? Even though I like boots. Actually, could we get some of those ones that are fuzzy on the insides—”

”No.” Orion didn’t often put his foot down, but he would in this. He had absolutely no desire to wear fuzzy boots, and even if it was just Naomi wearing them, he would feel it and it would be disgusting. Besides, he could just tell Naomi wanted to push how much money Mike would actually spend. He could pinch her, but as he’d be the one feeling it the point was moot.

The twins edged a little closer together as the number on the register came up, and eyed Mike, but he didn’t say anything, and they seemed to relax.

No fuzzy boots. Nope. Definitely not.

”Why do I have to be the one—”

”In a skirt?” A pause there as they regarded each other, and then another mutual shudder as they looked away from each other.

”I have shoes.” Naomi sighed. ”He can go first.”

”She thinks I buy lame things anyways.”

[Mike Batista]

Mike had laid out the rules when they'd arrived, but some of them took awhile to really soak in. He didn't have too many rules, but he was strict about them and always followed through with punishments.

"I require boots because part of being a foster parent is keeping your kids in weather appropriate gear," he said with a smile, "and because I want you both to have the option of warm feet even if you don't take it." Mike shrugged. "I'll have you take them along in the car just in case something happens, but I won't make you wear them."

He knew what boots Naomi was taking about. "Those're 'on your own dime' items," he chuckled. "Besides, they're not waterproof. I'd like you both to choose boots that are."

Once into the department store, their question surprised him. The way they dressed normally didn't hint at anything other than straight cisgendered roles, but that they both spoke up said... interesting things, even with the reaction. "I'm sorry, I should've asked. But if you want to try on the skirts there's nothing wrong with that," he said to Orion. "We can put a few in your size in the cart and you can try them on in the men's fitting room." He looked at Naomi and considered. "But if you wanted to try wearing a suit we might have to look in boys and not young men's."

Naomi had the height but not the build, but Mike thought boys' sizes would fit her fine.

"Either way, you're both getting something for good." Looking back at Orion, he said, "Did you want to try...?" He shrugged, it didn't matter to him.

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

Both the twins had remembered the rules, but yes, they did tend to take time for things to sink in. However, there was also the fact that Naomi liked to test and prod at the rules. And as Orion understood her perspective these days, he tended to try it out with her, see how it fit, so to speak.

But Mike…well, so far he liked Mike. And as he couldn’t feel an emotion strongly without Naomi feeling it too—mutually, so to speak—he suspected Naomi did too, even as she crossed her arms and made a face at the idea that she was being ordered to buy boots. But Orion knew she didn’t really mind, and his lips curved up into what might’ve been a smile. ”Thanks,” he said. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

”Waterproof,” Naomi muttered. ”Foster parents have no right to be practical.”

The problem with being typically cisgendered while you were a mixed-gender Gestalt pair was that, well, it was easy to wake up feeling like you’d gained and lost parts. Eventually, they knew that they’d end up as one person in two differently gendered bodies. They were trying to find a middle ground. Sometimes this involved Orion wearing kilts—he did indeed have one—but more usually, Naomi wearing pants. Bras in particular caused a lot of problems. In truth, they were fairly sure—although not clear—that Orion had been just a little more effeminate than Naomi had, and that they’d ended up meeting in the middle to a point that Naomi called ‘normal.’

Kilts were one things. However, that did not mean Orion was ready to try a skirt. The twins both flushed a fiery red, but Naomi laughed.

”Nope. He hasn’t shaved.”

”Shut up.”

Orion did actually shave. Naomi said it felt too weird if he didn’t.

The girl, however, looked thoughtful. ”I might like to try one.”

”But no skirts.”

[Mike Batista]

Like most experienced foster parents, Mike fully expected rule breaking. It was the easiest ways for kids to find out how much they could get away with, a sort of fostering litmus test. Mike was consistent, never punished in anger, and always spelled out exactly what he was punishing for, why he was doing it, and what the punishment was. In all his 20-odd years of fostering he'd never given up on a kid, even the ones he'd had to use his containment fields on and pat down three times a day, but he'd had a few taken from him after they'd committed crimes they were old enough to be prosecuted.

He had no worries about that with the Stewarts.

He heard Naomi's remark and kept his smile inside. But he shrugged and said, face straight, "Sorry. It's part of the contract we sign when we become foster parents. Practicality. Section seven."

Mike had been completely serious with his offer. There was nothing wrong with dressing the way you felt best, and at Hammel especially they were very accepting of non-cisgendered clothing choices. Like that little Japanese boy who wore the dresses and nail polish. Had he known Orion owned a kilt he would've been curious as to why a skirt was so objectionable, past the obvious point that they were made for cisgendered females and thus sometimes had problems in the front laying flat the way they were supposed to.

Noting the blush, he tried not to laugh when Naomi made the shaving comment. He really did. Sorry Orion. But a bit of a chuckle escaped him. It was another thing he hadn't noticed, but then, past seeing they were both clothed responsibly (no parts or underthings visible and for the weather), he didn't pay much attention to details that fine in the early weeks.

"Alright, alright, no skirts." He smiled, and then spoke to Naomi. "But you might try to find a buttoned shirt in the women's section. They'd probably fit you better. I'm not saying you can't try on a men's shirt, but I don't know if the boys' shirts would be comfortable around your torso and I think a men's shirt would be much too long in the arm and wide in the neck."

[Orion & Naomi Stewart]

As well he shouldn’t. The Stewarts were many things: mischievous, argumentative, irritable, multifaceted, and just a bit of rule breakers, but they wouldn’t do anything illegal. Illegal activities was what had gotten them into the foster system. Illegal activities was what had led to their mother becoming what she was, and even though the twins had been very young when removed from their mother, they still remembered enough to know what that kind of lifestyle led to. When Naomi was younger, she’d shoplifted. That had stopped pretty quickly when bonding with Orion and Naomi had learned getting things legally offered many more fun opportunities for tormenting officials who kept waiting for her to try something. But they were, for the most part, clean. Hammel had given them an opportunity to change. Neither of them were going to waste it.

Naomi huffed and rolled her eyes. ”You could be a little less obviously amused by that.”

This time, Orion ignored her and just kept looking at the clothes. His blush did increase at the chuckle, as did Naomi’s, and then Naomi nodded, a little more thoughtfully.

”Thanks,” she said, with something approaching sincerity.

”Not that you’re curved enough to mean there’s any awkward—hey!” Naomi had pinched him, and both twins rubbed their arms, then mutually avoided each other’s eyes as they lumped some clothes in the cart. Periodically one arm would reach for the opposite’s clothing, but generally speaking they managed to control themselves enough to get things sorted before they headed to the changing room.

((Shall we call this a wrap?))