Bag the window

Pete hurried in through the door, taking his coat off, only to falter to see the clothed yet humiliated Myka still covering herself.

"What-" he began.

"I didn't know, it doesn't feel like-" she began, suddenly frantic.

"Myka, it's fine, it's fine," he said. "You look.. dressed."

"What?" she said, cheeks flushed.

"Out there you looked... but in here..." Pete said.

She hesitated, stumbling out of view of the window. Pete took a couple of steps back, outside, still looking at Myka; through the doorway she still seemed normal.

"You still look..." he said. "Maybe it was temporary?"

"You're sure?" she said.

"I can see your pantsuit just fine," Pete said. "I don't know what that was."

"Maybe one of the things I was looking at," Myka said, uncertain. "Might be activated by vicinity rather than touch, or..."

Slowly lowering her arms, cheeks still red, she walked outside. She still... felt dressed, and Pete still seemed to think things were fine.

Then Pete moved past her, crossing the threshold into the shop.

"Still fine," he said. "I'll take a look. Going by the pictures, the artifact doesn't seem to bother men."

Myka nodded. Too wary to go inside again she stayed on the street, moving to watch Pete through the window. He cautiously neared the shelf, putting his own gloves on, then turned-

And the moment he saw Myka his eyes went wide. Once again he had a perfect view of his partner's most private areas, her pussy just there like it was nothing, her tits completely exposed.

He gestured, and that time Myka was quick enough to know what it mean, shrieking again and hurrying-

"It's the window!" Pete said, as soon as he moved to the doorway. "Myka, relax, you're dressed, it's just... I think it's the window, whenever I look at you through that then..."

"That-" she paused. "That makes sense. The window's new, and all the photos are views either into or out of the shop, and- oh god Pete, I've been waiting around by it all morning!"

"Well, good news is we found it," Pete said.

"Not funny!" Myka said, blushing.

She swallowed, trying desperately to not think of how many people had seen, and the cameras that had- oh god the cameras. She was going to end up as just another naked woman on the sites that had sprung up to document this town's problem.

She turned her attention back to that damn window.

"Clear everyone out," Myka said.

"What?"

"If it's the artifact, we need to break it and bag it, and it's easier to clear the shop than the street. I am not going near that thing while there are people on the other side."

Quite how the glass could be a relic of the artist she didn't know, but that was a puzzle for Artie and Claudia back at the Warehouse.

Pete nodded, going in, waving his badge around to try and get everyone out. Myka kept as far from the window as she could.

When it was empty, she smiled in relief.

"Go and get the bags," Myka said. "The sturdier ones, don't want broken glass to get out."

Pete nodded. Myka turned her attention back to glower at the window as he left. Once an artifact was in a bag, it was neutralised.

And the owner- oh god, he'd done it on purpose hadn't he? Paraded her around naked while she thought he was being helpful-

No, she was not going to feel guilty for this. She approached the window and gave it a sharp knock with the hilt of her warehouse-issue gun. A second harder hit, and it shattered; she took a quick step back.

At least no one could peer through the whole thing any more. Now she just had to gather all the shards so it would be easier to bag.

She worked slowly and carfeully, taking each piece at a time between her gloved fingers to move them. It was when she was reaching into the coffee shop however that she gasped, corner of the glass slciing through the thin glove; hastily she drew her hand back.

No way was she touching one of those things. She was relieved to note that she was still dressed, as she regained her balance by grabbing the window frame-

And suddenly it got a lot colder.

Oh god, oh god, stupid stupid stupid. It wasn't the window. Why would it be the window? She'd been told, the owner had rebuilt it, no doubt adding to the frame with bits and pieces of wood he'd found around the shop; maybe wood from an easel, or a paintbrush, or...

Whatever. It wasn't the window, it was the frame. The frame she'd just touched.

Myka shrieked, instinctively knowing that this time it was far more than perception. Directly touching the artifact had rid her of every strip of clothing, her shoes, her gloves, her pants, her blouse, her bra, her panties...

Oh god, she was naked, and she was stood out in the middle of the street.

Squeaking, Myka stumbled away from the shattered window, then ducked past the coffee shop door, cheeks crimson.

Oh god, there had been people outside, she'd given them an easy flash of her ass as she'd hurried in. Fuck.

And that was at best a temporary solution. She was still trapped here, and-

And her Farnsworth was outside. That hadn't vanished with her clothes at least, it had just been dropped. So she couldn't even get Pete to bring a change of clothes, unless she wanted to expose herself again.

Myka whimpered, pressing herself into the corner behind the door as best she could, just praying no one went too close to the huge, broken window and peered inside.