[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.
