“I might, uh, need your help getting the thing off.” He knelt down, realizing that she’d used approximately seven rolls of tape to strap the gun in place. Also, being Steris, she’d worn shorts under the dress—in case she had to do what she was doing. Two pairs, judging by the bit of cloth he saw peeking out from under the top one. Wax set to work extricating the gun. “I see you didn’t want this coming off accidentally.” “I kept imagining it falling out and firing,” Steris said, “mid-dance.” Wax grunted, working at her thigh beneath her dress. “You realize that if this were a play, this is
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