hawaiian shirts - SCP Foundation

Oh, Christ, not this asshole again.

"Iris? You in there?"

Oh, Christ, not this asshole again.

"I need to talk to you about something."

She tried her best not to audibly groan, instead audibly yawning. There was a little bit of groan in it, unfortunately for her. He didn't take particular notice.

"You're not in trouble, Iris."

Well, that's some relief. She's fairly sure there wasn't anything recently to be in trouble for, but with her very "public" position, she feels like she's constantly walking on eggshells. Like the whole project, the only reason for her (relative) freedom, could go up in flames at the slightest touch.

"Clef, what the hell do you want?"

She imagined him smirking that damn smirk of his. The door was closed, so she couldn't actually tell, but it was enough. "This would be easier if you opened the door, kid." Kid. This man was so god damn infuriating, she was starting to wonder if he was doing it on purpose.

Who was she kidding, of course he was. "It's not locked, sir." Almost immediately, she heard the door click.

There he was, in all his middle-aged, vaguely scummy glory. He stepped into the room, feigning interest in his surroundings, before sitting onto the small loveseat on the opposite side of the room from her. His movements were weirdly lethargic. Aside from the garish outfit (even for him), she noticed his hat was off. He only took his hat off when he had something to say, so she started to emotionally brace herself for… whatever this was.

She may have put too much effort into bracing. Clef looked at her, and feigned a grin. "Oh, at ease, already. It's not about Alpha-9, for once." That was something, at least. Unfortunately, that meant it was something personal, which worried her even more. It could only be one of about four things, and he shouldn't know about most of them.

"I just wanted to ask if you know why M–" He caught himself, and swallowed. "–why 166 was given updated privileges." Fuck. So he knew. You don't waltz into someone's room and ask that if you didn't already know the answer. This was going to be… tricky, at best.

She could try getting out of this. "I don't exactly have the power to grant other objects more autonomy, sir." That "sir" came out more harshly than she wanted.

"You're a terrible liar, Iris." Clef's face was twisted in a way she hadn't seen before. "Adams showed me the paperwork." Fuck. The Foundation makes everyone who starts a relationship to sign hours of forms officiating it. It was even more of a pain in the ass, with both her and Meri still being considered objects. She tried to ignore the thought.

Meri thought it would have been pointless to even try, that it was unprecedented, that they would never approve it. She worried a lot about the details. So did Iris, of course, but she was (unfortunately) loyal to the Foundation. She'd proven that several times over by now. It was more of a curse than her supposed blessing, sometimes, but it worked out in the end.

Except for this. Except for this. It was a fairly poorly kept secret that Clef had a daughter somewhere in the world. A lot less people knew that daughter was likely in Foundation custody. The few people with full access to Meri's file knew her full story, more or less. She wouldn't be in that last camp, if not for an off-the-books trade (it was more an appeal) with Dir. Light, and she immediately knew she got more than what she bargained for.

She was not looking forward to this conversation, and had been putting it off for… months, now. He approached her first, though, which was deeply worrying. When Clef willingly starts a conversation with you, it's either so he can insult you somehow, or because you're about to do a job no one wants to.

Or because you're about to lose yours. She was desperately hoping it was the first one.

"Just to be clear, you are dating her, right? I didn't read the whole damn packet, there could have been something I missed." Not wanting to delay this further, Iris quietly nodded. She was certainly starting to shake, but she suppressed it as best she could. She'd gotten good at it over the last 10-odd years.

"Okay. Neat." It was cold. "So then, I have to ask. What the hell were you thinking?"

She immediately stiffened, as Clef's already cold eyes turned to glare at her. She was on his bad side for this, apparently, and it was going to get a lot worse for her if she didn't approach this carefully.

"I'm not even sure how you managed this. You went over my head, somehow, because I know Adams shouldn't have known about this first. You've both kept it miraculously hidden, otherwise, because I didn't know you knew each others names." This was new, at least to Iris. Clef got mad at people, but it was never this… wet. He seemed weirdly emotional about it. Any other man, and it wouldn't have surprised her.

"I— you're damn lucky I was busy before now. Do you have any idea what you've gotten yourself into here?" He was… teary? She wasn't sure what that really meant, and unwittingly shook her head. He let out a breathy chuckle. "You don't. FUCKING fantastic. You really don't know what this means."

Iris was definitely shaking by now. Her overboss was yelling at her, apparently on the verge of tears, and she was worried. He wouldn't dare hurt her right here, but he was powerful. Powerful enough to end all of this out of… spite? She couldn't tell anymore.

It would mean the worst, really. It would mean she'd be at risk of getting kicked out of the project that (as far as she was concerned) started with her. It would probably mean getting her privileges stripped, again, and re-condemned to sanitary, pristine hell.

It would definitely mean, if nothing else, that they'd never see each other again.

Her thoughts, flipping through every worst case, were interrupted by Clef. "Iris, what it means is that in 23 fucking years, I've talked to her twice, and she doesn't remember a thing!" He took in a shaky breath. "It means the only one she's ever loved is a woman who hates me."

He wasn't sobbing, yet, but he was close. "It means her horrible truth is going to be forcibly revealed to her, and I'll have failed her for the fucking umpteenth time." She couldn't tell who was shaking more. "God DAMN it, Iris." Clef slumped over, his face in his hands, three watery eyes staining his shirt. That mesmerizingly awful shirt.

She was too scared to say anything, so they sat in an uncomfortable silence, Clef failing to stop crying. The air was heavy, and she couldn't tell why. This man, who had been an harbinger of terribly sexist jokes and ugly corporate sass and terrible fashion sense, who parades himself as the actual biblical Devil, who was one of the people Iris was still scared of, broken down in front of her. Over a girl he could never meet, and one who would undoubtedly hate him if she knew.

She couldn't help but tear up too.

"S-sir?"

He exhaled, in that way you exhale when you try to laugh while your throat is doing other things. "Shut it, Iris. I don't…" There was no words. This was excruciating.

"I won't tell her, Clef." She didn't mean to call him by name, but she wasn't in a position to stop herself.

He looked up. It was weird, seeing three shot eyes looking at her. "Iris, I don't care what you do." He sat himself up, still shivering. "But don't fuck it up. Please." Clef looked cold, again. Well, as cold as he could be, with a wet face and even wetter voice.

"There are so many things I want to tell her, Iris. With any luck, I won't get the chance to say them." Iris exhaled. She wasn't aware she was holding her breath, but with it gone, she felt… looser. "I won't ask anything of you, but I need you to be good to her. Don't… don't be me, if you can help it." After a minute of staring at the floor, he wordlessly stood up, turning for the door.

"Clef?" Of all the people to be asking this. "Are you alright?"

He chuckled an actual, genuine chuckle, before turning around. "What do you think, kid?"

"…I think you need to get a new shirt." Tear stains usually aren't obvious, but on the dirty rayon, they stuck out.

He didn't say anything before he left, leaving Iris alone to stew in what just happened, and to think.

She thought about Meri, and about Clef, and then the whole project, the fire within the Foundation that she sparked. She thought about the others, the poor souls roped into this with her. Then she thought about herself, and then about Meri again.

Iris cried until her eyes closed for her.

The next morning, she found Meri sitting at their usual spot in the cafeteria, looking unusually upbeat. When she waved her over, she got a little worried. When she saw what the deer was wearing, she nearly fell over.

Before she could say anything, Meri cut in quickly. "Are you alright, Iris? You look like you've been crying, what's wrong?"

"I'm fine, Mer. Didn't sleep well, but nothing out of the ordinary." The conversation would need to happen at some point. But not today.

"I'd pry, but you don't seem to be in the mood. You got here a little late, so I don't know what all is left, but I saved you a bagel!" She looked proud.

"Thank you. Can I ask about the elephant in the room?"

"And what would that be?"

"What the hell are you wearing, Meri?"

It was a pink and blue Hawaiian shirt. Not the same colors as last night, but the same kind of mind numbing pattern, if you could call it that.

"Do you like it?"

"…I guess I don't mind it."