Gwen bares all.

“Oh, no. You’re going to lose, … on purpose.”

“Ye-no, … I will not!”

“We’ll see. One,” said Ben.

“Two,” said Gwen, suddenly sure that ‘paper’ was the right move.

“Three,” they said simultaneously.

Ben’s hand clenched in a fist just as she intuited, but Gwen’s traitorous hand seemed to form a peace sign on its own. “Rock crushes scissors.”

She stared at their hands with a complicated expression, then stood up, unclasped the garter belt, kicked off her new kicks, and slowly peeled off the stocking from her long legs. She had not needed prompting this time; almost as though wearing clothes was suddenly uncomfortable.

“Honestly, Doofus, what was the point of stripping me all the way? It’s not like seeing my bare legs is such a big deal.”

“You could have stripped slower, you know, and made a show of it,” he drawled, “but I guess you’re in a hurry. The waitress will be through that door any moment now. So... what are you going to wager next?”

“I—” She reached tentatively for the only thing she was left wearing. But, no, the pet collar belonged on her neck! She glanced at the door, at Ben, at the door, and back again. “You… you can’t be serious?”

“Time’s running out. I’m waiting...”