Dress Off 08: Hotpants in Helsinki

[Authors Note: The much-delayed sequel to "Dress Off 07: Pillar of Purgatory" is finally here. Next week will see the release of "Dress Off 09: Bust out in Brisbane". As always, my apologies to long-suffering readers!

In our last chapter, Bree Carson and Monica Fairchild had escaped the Lesbian Strip Humiliation tournament in the Arena of Embarrassment, although at a cost. Monica was completely naked and, far more importantly, their friend Special Agent Tess Trueheart was captured alongside their arch-nemesis Elizabeth Harrington, who had also been in the tournament. Meanwhile, in Portland, Junior Agent Brittney Barecat has also had a narrow escape when she arrived back at the Agency's Headquarters only to discover that Director Foxwell has been hypnotised and is now under the control of an unknown enemy. Making a break for it, a naked Brittney, alongside chief engineer Olivia 'O' Berkeley, escaped Headquarters with the Director's laptop - hoping to make it to a safe-house, hoping to make contact with any other survivors and, more than anything else, hoping to make sense of these crazy turns of events.]

****

Brittney Barecat leaned against the side of the black Audi RS3 sedan that was parked up on the side of the deserted road. The car was carefully stationed so that it was as cloaked in the dark as was possible, and as far away as could be managed from the bright pools formed by the sporadic overhead lights. The thirty-two year old red-head pulled the white lab coat a little tighter around her, with the cool midnight air beginning to nip at her skin underneath. It had taken Brittney at least fifteen minutes of cajoling to convince her partner to hand over what was -- Olivia 'O' Berkeley had explained with an impassioned and dramatic monologue that Brittney felt a seasoned Broadway professional would have been proud of - "her most favourite and cherished lab coat in the whole entire world".

That Brittney would have been stark naked without it, having been very recently stripped completely nude by one of Olivia's own devices, had at the start merely prompted some prevaricating from Olivia regarding the unfortunate yet inescapable nature of collateral damage and that "clearly it was fated to be so".

It was only when Brittney had pointedly suggested that in that case Olivia could keep the damn lab coat and instead give her everything that she was wearing underneath it, that Olivia had -- still with much grumbling -- removed the precious symbol of her authority and status in her now abandoned lab, and had roughly thrust it at Brittney. Putting it on, she could feel the pockets weighed down by various gadgets that Olivia had secreted away, and because of this Brittney was steadfastly ignoring the urge to put her hands in her pockets to keep warm, for fear of what she might accidentally set off.

It was scarcely half an hour since Brittney and Olivia had made their escape. At least now they were both clothed, although the lab coat flapped slightly in the wind and Brittney was acutely conscious that every time the thin coat material shifted, she was potentially flashing all manner of skin and anatomy.

"Okay," Brittney said, while a still-somewhat-peeved Olivia was rummaging through the gear that she'd hurriedly deposited in the back of their car during their dramatic escape from headquarters, "here's how it is. The car's pretty much running on fumes right now, and that gas station we passed two or three minutes ago is probably our best chance of getting refuelled."

It had been too much to hope for that an experimental car stolen from a lab would have a full tank of gas, and in their mad dash to escape any possible pursuit, it had taken Brittney a little too long to realise that they were running desperately low. There was no conceivable way they'd reach Seattle, which was some three hours by car from their starting point in Portland, without getting more gas. However what would usually be an everyday straightforward activity was complicated greatly by the irritating technicality that both Brittney and Olivia were currently without any means of paying for it. Both Brittney and 'O's moods had darkened somewhat as Brittney had reluctantly pulled the car to the side of the road to consider their depleted options.

Olivia stood up, brandishing a large bazooka, and dressed in a tight grey t-shirt and dark blue slacks. "We could ask them to give us the fuel for free?"

Brittney reached over and gently lowered the front end of bazooka, which Olivia was currently waving in Brittney's face with the same nonchalant manner that was often commented on by 'O's colleagues as being one of her trademark characteristics, albeit typically in health & safety incident reports under the section "causes".

"I don't know 'O'," Brittney said slowly and carefully, "I reckon asking for free fuel while armed with a bazooka, even if I'm optimistically assuming for a moment it's got a non-lethal payload, may not quite meet the training manual's definition of stealth, and we are supposed to be keeping a low profile, remember?"

Olivia grunted, and after a moment's pause clearly tinged with regret, she then casually tossed the bazooka back into the car. Brittney flinched, half-expecting it to go off, but the still night air mercifully remained undisturbed. As she regained her poise, she glanced back at Olivia and added, "besides, we're more likely to get free fuel with what you're wearing rather than what you're carrying!"

Olivia looked confused for a moment and then followed Brittney's gaze down to her own chest. 'O's breasts may only have been A-cups by size, however the 'A' could equally have been the grading from any red-blooded judge who liked their breasts to be adorned with perfect nipples. Those nipples were currently diamond-hard in the cold night air and were poking through her t-shirt.

Olivia cheeks flushed to match the colour of Brittney's hair as she realised what Brittney was suggesting. "Certainly not!" she said, protectively draping an arm across her chest. Her mouth twitched though as she spoke, betraying the tell-tale signs of the nervous giggles that she invariably broke into whenever naked or embarrassed.

"Besides," she retorted, trying to change the subject before she completely lost control, "you're the field agent! Go..." she waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the gas station, "do field'y agent'y stuff! You can give me back my lab coat while you're at it, that ought to help!"

Brittney chewed her lip thoughtfully, and sighed deeply. Truth be told, she was barely a month or two out of basic training and, while she wasn't about to go admitting it to 'O', hadn't yet been on a mission that was more complicated than acting as a long-distance courier. And while the international jaunts had been fun, they'd barely tested any of the skills her trainers had tried to instil in her, and as such she was definitely feeling a little overwhelmed and under-prepared. Especially now that the adrenalin rush of her frantic escape was wearing off.

It was quiet on the road, but occasionally a car did blast past, the slipstream rippling her clothing and causing her to feel even more exposed, even though she was cloaked by both the lab coat and the dark.

"Okay well, we can't exactly stay here. We're going to have to do something!"

Olivia screwed up her face. "Well, we have to contact Monica if we have any chance of safely decrypting that laptop you stole from the Director's office."

"Liberated." Brittney interjected, distractedly, but stopped talking as Olivia waved her hand as if swatting away completely irrelevant technicalities.

"As I was saying, we have to find Monica. You said there was a safe house in Seattle we might be able to use to contact her, wherever she is. I have supplied the car. You have supplied the destination. The nice people back at that gas station can provide the fuel, and you field agents are always supposed to be good at persuasion!" Olivia peered at Brittney, pausing for a moment and scrunching her face up, as if trying to remember something she'd heard once that was not related to her own science projects, and therefore under normal circumstances would have been of no real value and not worth remembering.

"What's your field agent motto again?" Olivia asked, "'When the going gets tough, the tough get their tits out'?"

Brittney raised one eyebrow. "Surprisingly 'O', that's not actually our motto. Not even close. Indeed, the only way that could actually be further from our motto is if we actually had a motto, which we don't, and that motto was comprised solely of words that were the exact opposite of what you just said," she glanced sideways at her partner, "and those words were then translated into Swahili."

Olivia snorted, and muttered under her breath, "Well, that's what Agent Carson keeps doing, I'm sure."

Brittney, glad for something to momentarily take her mind of the impending crisis at hand, added for extra effect "In fact since that's literally the first time I've ever even heard that phrase anywhere, I'm going to chalk that one up to you and your imagination having had one too many accidents in the lab!"

Before Olivia could make any further retorts though, Brittney took a few steps back to the car. "That said," she continued, "we do have to get going. I don't know how we're going to get the fuel yet without getting ourselves on the police radar for stealing, but we have at least two minutes drive back there to figure something out! Saddle up partner, time for a little light improv!"

****

The gas station forecourt wasn't as quiet as Brittney would have liked as she pulled in. Two cars were also refuelling, and the blazing lights of the shop lit up the early evening, so there was no skulking or hiding in dark shadows. Brittney cast a nervous look at 'O', who in turn shrugged as if to say "this is your domain, not mine."

Sighing, Brittney stopped the car next to a free gas pump, and turned the car off. Gripping the steering wheel for a moment, she steeled herself for what was ahead, and then turned to 'O' again.

"You refuel, I'll go make sure we aren't reported when we drive off without paying."

Opening the driver's side door, Brittney stepped out and tried to wear her most confident expression, if only to compensate for the lack of much else that she had on. With only the flapping lab coat to protect her modesty, Brittney stared ahead and wondered exactly how she was going to phrase this.

She could just try flashing and hope that a little skin would pay for a little gas, but the thought of being caught on security cam didn't thrill her.

The store had only two other customers, both already in line to be served, and Brittney waited patiently while they paid. She noticed that the male attendant, a slightly overweight and balding man of perhaps forty years, was no longer entirely focussed on his current customer, but was also trying to checking out the delightful vision that had just entered.

Well, "delightful vision" was possibly a stretch. As beautiful as Brittney was, 'O's lab coat was designed for function and not form. Still, it was that or do it naked, and Brittney eyed the security cameras pointed at the sales counter with a high amount of apprehension. Outside, 'O' had already finished filling the car up with gas when Brittney reached the front of the queue.

"Umm, hi." Brittney opened with. The male attendant smiled back, his slightly pudgy face settling into what she supposed he thought was a friendly look, but which actually reminded her of how a wolf might look at sheep.

The problem, Brittney soon discovered, was that the inspiration as to what should follow "umm, hi" had not yet arrived as hoped.

"What pump were you on?" the man asked, managing to make the simple question sound like it was soaked in innuendo.

Brittney pointed a finger out at 'O', who leaning against the car, arms folded. "Pump... two." she replied, and smiled again.

He smirked in response. Somewhere in his brain something sexual had obviously occurred to him, and Brittney was just hoping he'd either keep it to himself or that her gag reflex would hold out.

He briefly checking his cash register screen. "That'll be eighty dollars." he winked. Brittney maintained a friendly smile to cover the groundswell of panic that are seeping in. A wild idea then crashed across her brain, and in desperation she latched on to it in the absence of anything actually recognisable as inspiration. She'd try on her old impression of a Valley Girl that she hadn't taken for a spin for at least a decade.

"Wow. I mean, like, this is so funny, but I kind of can't pay?" Brittney flashed a big hopeful smile.

"Ahh.. okay..." the man replied, eyes narrowing. He looked out on to the forecourt and then back at Brittney. "So you have no money whatsoever?"

"Yeah, totally. Like, I was just talking with my friend, and she was like, 'I don't have any money!', and I was like, 'Seriously?!'." Brittney gave a frustrated look as part of the act, but in her own mind she realised this, like the man's gaze, was going south. Hating herself on the inside, Brittney casually undid the top button of the lab coat. It wasn't enough to reveal anything major, but gave the hint that if there was anything under the coat, that it was at least very low cut.

This was taking too long. Her brain screamed at her to get this wrapped up, but Brittney was out of practice in the flirting department, and the lab coat wasn't exactly the greatest asset, even if the guy seemed to be growing in interest. As Brittney stumbled with her flirting, she felt her cheeks get hot as she went red. Her mind racing, she tried a causal hair flip and a girlish giggle, but ruined the effect by then having the blow the hair out of her mouth and swipe it out of her eyes. This was not going well at all.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw 'O' on the forecourt, waving her arms and trying to get Brittney's attention. Attempting to block her partner out of her mind, and focussing on the task in front of her, Brittney turned back to the store attendant, who had been spending the time while Brittney was distracted to hungrily look up and down her body.

"So as I was saying..." Brittney started, stopping mid-sentence when in her peripheral vision she saw 'O' pull something out of the car. "Oh God." Brittney whispered to herself.

Turning her head and giggling again in what she prayed would come across as a completely natural and playful move, she stole a second glance out of the window and tried to steady her nerves as she saw 'O' casually pointing the strip-grenade bazooka in her direction.

'O' held the bazooka in one hand, pointing at it with her other hand, and making exaggerated mouth movements which Brittney knew was her asking if she needed backup.

Frantically making as small a hand gesture as possible, Brittney tried to get 'O' to stop waving the bazooka around, and finally after 'O' mouthed a "What?!" while pointing at her ear, she finally seemed to get the message.

"OMG, look, this is like, so totally super embarrassing!" Brittney said, ramping up her late 1990's California-air-head impression beyond simply the realms of caricature and into some hyper-dimensional plane of wildly inappropriate stereotypes.

Brittney tried coiling a strand of hair around a finger, in a move that caused inner-Brittney to want to crawl out and slap herself across the face.

"I mean, I didn't bring my purse and --"

"-- you left your purse in... your other... lab coat? You're a... scientist?" the attendant said, grinning, while still trying to calculate what score Brittney would get without the somewhat unflattering white coat. He was coming up with a pleasingly high number, despite the handicap Brittney was currently working under.

"Like, yeah..." replied Brittney, acutely aware that her manner wasn't exactly gelling with her outfit.

"Maybe if you can leave me your number, you could come back later and... pay?" the attendant hinted.

Brittney almost swallowed her tongue, but managed a nod of agreement.

"Of course, if you know, you can't make it back, I'll have to..." the attendant gave the impression of someone helpless to avoid an unpleasant act, as he pointed at the security camera, but the leer on his face definitely undermined the sincerity of his supposed reluctance.

Brittney nodded again, trying to keep her face from twitching. That was not the plan.

As she opened her mouth to try a second line of attack though, she again caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Her jaw dropping open, she looked on in wide-eyed horror as she saw her partner turn to toss the bazooka back inside the car again. This time however, a careless touch by 'O' seemed to catch the trigger, and for a split second, the world seemed to slow down to a crawl.

A shiny metal sphere launched gracefully from the bazooka. It's trajectory was smooth and serene, arcing past surprised customers and a forecourt attendant who barely had time to point let alone shout, before the sphere sailed past on it's way to the shop.

Brittney was halfway through mouthing "oh sh--" when the sphere met the glass wall of the shop. The wall stood no chance, although it did at least achieve slowing the sphere down so that it bounced off a shelving unit near Brittney, who barely had time to duck. The sphere bounced and rolled along the floor until it came to a stop right by Brittney's feet.

"Oh come on!" Brittney yelled, in equal parts to the world in general as well as to her partner outside. "Again?! What the hell are the chances of this?!"

Before she even got the last syllable out, gas from the sphere was engulfing her, and she stood helplessly in the midst of an expanding cloud. It was too late to save what little clothes she had now. The attendant had ducked behind the counter, and started to make a run for it as the gas approach him, however he froze in amazement as he saw what was happening to Brittney.

As seam after seam of the lab coat began to disintegrate, the material fell to the floor in clumps, and the completely naked body of Brittney Barecat came on full display. Gritting her teeth, Brittney tried to cover up, but as 'O's gadgetry fell out of the now-non-existent pockets, she had to switch to trying to catch those, for fear of what else might go off.

Looking on in astonishment, the attendant didn't even notice the wisps of gas that began to wreak havoc on his own clothing, as his mental score on Brittney began to rack up extra digits. He couldn't tell whether it was the gas or the blood rushing south to other organs that was making him so light-headed, but as his head swam in visions of a naked and embarrassed Brittney, he silently cursed himself for not paying more attention in Science class.

Naked, and with expensive Agency equipment clattering on the floor around her, Brittney gave a little shriek and made a half-hearted attempt to firstly cover up her breasts and bush. Realising that she was hiding nothing from the security cameras though, she clenched her entire body in frustration, and switched instead to hurriedly picking up every device and trinket off the floor, all too aware that she was pointing her naked ass directly at the attendant and the array of lens that would now be capturing every embarrassing second.

After what felt like an eternity, she had everything in her hand, and turn to dash for the door.

Outside, 'O' had clearly realised what had happened.

"No!" shrieked Olivia as she ran towards Brittney. "Oh my God, no, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you!"

Brittney stumbled out of the store, her beetroot red face evident to everyone in the forecourt, with her arms carrying an assortment of shiny oddities. Seeing how upset 'O' was, Brittney's anger somewhat subsided for a moment, and she was halfway through calling out to 'O' that she was not hurt, and that right now the only important thing was to get the hell out of here, when she realised in amazement that 'O' had sprinted right past her and into the shop.