Wait! If she doesn't get her bra first, the rule is, like, she can't wear one anymore... or... something...

Bree frowned. With the panties, she couldn't get them at all anymore, so, no panties. Did she have to get her clothes in order, too? She should've written these rules down. It was different, though, to get them just not in order. Like, maybe she should just a penalty, like, she'd have to go a week with no bra? Or she'd have to retrieve it during the day, again, with no bra...

She shook her head, angry at herself. She was in a rush, and was wasting time. She should just follow the rules and get the bra first. She started to clop-clop-clop around the corner to the office, but immediately kicked off the shoes in annoyance as she tried to think out how the rules should work. She reached first into the wrong bin, searching for too long before realizing it, then snatched her bra angrily from the right bin. She started putting it on as she walked back to the security office. This proved obnoxiously difficult to do with her shirt already on, and especially when she was still distracted about the rules, and all while deciding whether this meant she could't wear shoes home or to school all week or what, so she yanked the shirt up and off in frustration, tossing it down into the chair in the hall, the bra instantly becoming hopelessly tangled in it as she did.

"Grrargh!" She shouted in frustration.

"What the hell-" Suddenly her naked body was silhouetted down the floor of the empty hallway in front of her. She turned, panicked, finding Mr. Weatherby standing right behind her.

In all her frustration, she had stopped listening for the thomps.

She jumped forward, starting instantly into a sprint.

"Bad plan." He said calmly, coolly, quietly behind her. Bree thudded to a quick stop in the middle of the four-way junction beside his office. He was right, she was not getting away. She turned around to face him, in all her nakedness.