Today the skirt was shorter than usual, and the top's cut lower than he recognized. Today his little girl was wearing an outfit he did not see as her Sunday best. In fact, he didn't like how he, and perhaps - well most likely - the rest of the male population, suddenly noticed how white her thighs were. "It's a bit cold outside," he said, putting down the television remote without a pause, "Don't you think you should change? And those heels look horrible. Like you'll fall and die." After a few minor alterations, his only daughter came pretty close to a 3AM hooker.
Alice blinked rapidly. Her eyes were painfully dry and irritated from her new powdered makeup, so there was also plenty of squinting. "I'll be fine Da," she stumbled over in baby steps and sloppily kissed his cheek. He felt better, in a small perverse satisfaction, when he realized that everyone could look safely down her top and find nothing to see.
She straightened her back and flipped a jacket over her shoulder. "Besides," her heels clicked like little bullets in the hard wood floor, "I have my pepper spray, rape whistle and taser all tucked away in this purse." All this was said with a comforting pat.
"Mm," he hummed, feeling more comfortable by the minute. "Did you remember to get the house keys?"
"Ah hah, I knew I forgot something!"