Percy forcibly kicks his brain back into action. Maybe he can take the dress off again later - wow, no, he needs to focus. On her back - no, the dress. Which needs to be done up.

"One of these days I really will stop talking, and you're going to miss my voice," he decides, once he's sure that his voice is going to work properly. He steps in closer, and if his fingers absently trace down the line of her spine - well. He's only human. He starts at the bottom, working the buttons with an ease born not from dealing with women's clothing, but taking armour on and off over the past half decade.