''So long as you're paying for it.'' came through the line just before it went dead.
''Was that too easy?'' Kris asked Abby.
''Baby ducks, I hope this don't come as too painful a revelation, but I don't think that man likes you.''
Kris modeled wide-eyed shock. ''You think so!''
And got soap in her eyes for the dramatics.
''Hey, you're supposed to be looking after my safety,'' Kris sputtered as she wiped her eyes.
''Honey, how can you talk safety with you going where you're going.''
Which kind of let all the funny out of the situation.
''There is that,'' Kris said soberly and stood to dry herself off. Pulling on her new spider-silk bodysuit, Kris found herself remembering how the last one had earned its retirement. The black-and-blue places were still on her leg and belly, covered now by a layer of tanning cream.
The bra Abby handed Kris had extra room in it. ''Be careful how you use these, they're high explosives,'' Abby said, as she slipped the inserts in.
Suddenly Kris had boobs. Boobs she knew all too well how to make go boom.
The girdle was reinforced with ceramics. This gave Kris a bit of a rear, though not one man gave a second glance.
Abby must have read Kris's mind. ''Don't worry. Tonight, you'll have buns.''
''You're padding my rear?''
''What do you think of this dress?'' Abby asked as she slipped it over Kris's head.
''It's different,'' Kris agreed. Most of Kris's dresses had a narrow waist, then flounced out to leave the illusion of hips. That also left Kris with plenty of room to hide the odd grenade among her crinolines.
Tonight's dress was a sparkly gray affair that fit her like a second skin.
Except where it grew suddenly thick. Which it did around her butt. ''What have you got there? More armor?''
''Nope, baby cakes, offense, ma'am, offense. Feel around. See what opens up.''
Kris brushed her hand over her bottom and found extra thickness. She worked her hand over it a bit slower and found a pocket opening up.
From said pocket she pulled a…something. It was square and thin and invited her to toss it like a Frisbee.
''The gray ones are all whizbangs. Flash, smoke, and noise,'' Abby said. ''Depress the bump in the center of it and it's armed. Five-second delay. Turn it right for a four second. Left for a three second.''
Kris eyed the device. Clearly this was not something she'd find in any Marine armory. Then again, few Marines were trained to close and engage the enemy on the dance floor.
''The next row on your butt are green and carry disabling gas. I've included a filter in your purse,'' Abby said.
Kris felt and found there was a second row. And a third row.
''Last row is more of the whizbangs.''
Abby worked Kris's head into a wig with long, cascading blond curls to hide her automatic, then placed a lovely tiara to top it all. Not the usual Navy one, but a filigree confection that served better as an antenna for Nelly's search routines.
Being made of Smart Metal, the crown also afforded Nelly more raw material if she found herself needing to reinforce her nano-scouts.
As Kris rose from her dressing table, she found the shoes, unfortunately, were just as uncomfortable. ''Can't you do anything about these?'' Kris said, lifting one foot as high as the tight dress would allow.
And discovered the dress opened a slit when she needed it. She almost did a high kick.
''Sorry, my tinder-footed Highness,'' Abby said, ''but three-inch heels are three-inch heels. You should try wearing them more often and getting your feet comfortable in them.''
''Three-inch heels are not uniform compliant,'' Kris said.
''Or you could buy from the right place. Nelly, why don't you show Kris what she's really wearing this evening.''
''Oh, boy, can I,'' the computer said. Kris could almost hear hands rubbing together in glee.
And suddenly Kris found herself staring into her mirror at a Kris wearing a Kelly-green dress, with perfect cream-white skin and red hair. She had to squint hard to notice the tiara.
Kris's eyes widened as she thought of possibilities. ''How much can you change this?''
Abby laughed. ''If someone's looking for a blonde princess in a gray dress, they're gonna have to look long and hard to find you.''
And the dress was a royal blue, and Kris was a brunette.
''Just how far can this go?''
And Kris stared at a black hole in the mirror. Her face, her hair, her dress, her skin were as dark as a black cat in a coal bin at midnight.
And her shoes were pumps, great for running.
''Now that's what I call an outfit, but my nose is still too big,'' she muttered.
''I am only licensed to take care of so many of your problems,'' Abby sniffed. ''By the way, you've got a carbon copy of yourself running around tonight. One of your woman Marines has a dress just like yours. In black. For now.''
''That should provide some interesting options,'' Kris muttered thoughtfully, then centered herself on the moment.
''Okay, so how do I look tonight? Nelly, make the dress red. Easy for someone to spot if they're looking for little old me. Blond hair like usual.'' Kris paused, considered just what she could get away with and sighed. ''And three-inch heels.''
Abby handed Kris a tiny purse on a golden chain. ''It changes colors, too.''
''What if Nelly gets jammed?''
''Put the purse next to the dress. It will get the message,'' Nelly said.
And so Kris took one more look in the mirror, scowled at her usual self, and turned to face her future.
Outside, she ran into her team. Jack was magnificent in his red and blues. ''New set?'' Kris asked.
''My backup pair. Armored as well as the old set.''
''Good luck,'' Kris said.
Commander Malhoney offered Kris an elbow. He was resplendent in his white and blue formal dress uniform.
''You manage to armor up that?'' Kris asked.
He opened his white jacket. Someone had sewn sections of a spider-silk bodystocking into its lining. It might do some good there. Then again, it might not. And the wide expanse of white dress shirt covering his gut was likely backed up by nothing more impervious than his skivvy shirt.
The man is taking the risks he asked for, Kris reminded herself. Penny was next in a floor-length, soft orange taffeta gown. At her elbow was an unfashionably oversized purse.
''You monitoring the bugs tonight?'' Jack asked.
''Someone's got to cover for the chief. He's outside with Captain DeVar and his hardcases.''
Jack frowned at Kris's tight dress, then turned to Penny. ''I hope you've got some extra artillery mixed in with your petticoats.''
''What kind of question is that to ask a young lady,'' Penny quipped, then flipped up her wide skirts, showing two rows of bandoleers for grenades and spare magazines. ''Especially when the poor girl is feeling like a pack mule.''
''Or a gunrunner,'' the commander said with a raised eyebrow.
''Oh, I forgot, this is your first trip out with our princess,'' Jack said. ''Early on it always looks hopeless. We're all doomed. There's no escaping.''
''And then it gets better,'' the commander said, hopefully.
''No, it gets worse,'' Penny said. ''And worse, and worse.''
''And then we see daylight,'' the commander drawled.
''Nope, that's usually an oncoming train,'' Kris deadpanned.
''But you must get out. You're here, ruining what's left of my digestion.''
''Hey, this guy has the right attitude,'' Penny said.
''Kris, maybe you should keep him around,'' Jack said.
''Abby, where are you going to be?'' Kris said, turning back to her maid.
''In the Tac Center. Cara spent the afternoon there, with Gramma Ruth, hoping something might come in about Bronc. I can't think of a better place for me.''
''Keep an eye on Gramma Ruth,'' Kris said.
''Gosh, and I was feeling safer just having her nearby.''