Anarchy in the UK

Christine ducked down between a hedge and a concrete barrier, glancing out at a group of tourists who were carrying far more cameras than she was currently comfortable with.

She had been to London twice before for medical conferences, and this was one of the biggest tourist spots, so she knew she was by the London Eye on the south bank, near Waterloo station. She also knew, from talking to Stephen, that somewhere in the city there was one of the Sanctums, a building that helped protect the Earth from mystical threats in a way she did not completely understand. Neither of these things she knew, of course, was of any help to her now, although the presence of the Sanctum was probably connected to her being dragged there.

Christine knew she could not stay where she was, there were too many people around and it was getting busier. She edged her way along behind cover, feeling the leaves of the hedge she was pressed against as they tickled and lightly scratched her bare skin in a way which was not entirely unpleasant.

She reached the end of her cover. She was away from the London Eye now, and fewer people were looking in her direction. This was the best opportunity she was going to get, but she did not know where to go.

"Where can I get some clothes?" she whispered to herself desperately. She knew there were shops in Waterloo station, but every time she had been there it had been packed with people so she was not keen to go there.

She spotted a row of blue bicycles on the pavement, their frames filled in with Barclays advertising signs which would provide some cover.

Dashing for them, Christine grabbed one that had not been put back and locked, and she crouched behind this to walk, hiding herself from the bigger crowds to one side, although several vehicles driving past on her exposed side honked their horns appreciately at the sight of her shapely backside, her full breasts jiggling gently.

Christine reached a red phone box, it had windows on all sides but some of these were smoky with age and at least it would give her somewhere to stop. She dropped the bike and stepped into the phone box, closing the door behind her.

There was no phone book, not that she believed a mystical Sanctum was the sort of thing she could have looked up, and when she looked at the phone she saw it was vandalised, the cord hanging loose with no reciever attached. At least this meant no one would disturb her because they wanted to make a call.

Christine looked through the glass, up and down the street. Not a clothes shop to be seen.

But there was someone familiar. A young girl, dark red robes and dyed hair to match, striding purposefully across the road. The girl who must have brought Christine here.

"Hey!" Christine dashed from the phone box, after the girl. The girl smirked, and disappeared down a street. That was when Christine realised her mistake in both leaving cover, and shouting out.

Trying desperately to cover her naked body, Christine spotted a stall selling London memorabilia, including Union Jack t-shirts.

"Give me the biggest t-shirt you've got!" she said to the woman running the stall.

"Sure thing." the woman replied, "But I can't help wondering where you're keeping a purse."

"What?"

"You don't look like you're carrying any money."

"Well, no, I'm not, but... Look, I'm a doctor from America..."

"And now you're a nudist over here?"

"No, but, I didn't mean to end up in this country, or naked, it just sort of happened."

"Oh, yeah? Big night out, was it?"

Christine sighed. The longer she stood here arguing, the more attention she was drawing. She considered just grabbing a t-shirt and running, but now that more people were realising her predicament she was very **** to move either of her hands away from her body.

Christine risked a look over her shoulder. Past the growing crowd of people she could just see the girl in the robes, heading across a bridge over the river Thames.

"Oh, hell." Christine left the stall, pushed past her admirers, and dashed after the girl.