❝ this is your bodyguard for the next little while, agent brendon urie. ❞
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𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄.
𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐂𝐔, 𝐏𝐑𝐄-𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑.
𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄...
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"IS THIS OUTING AUTHORISED?" YOU ASKED, nervously glancing back at the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, which was no more than a speck in the distance at this point.
"No, of course not," Brendon scoffed, taking a right turn, "You think The Director would ever approve this?"
"No, never. That's why I'm asking," you said, "Doesn't S.H.I.E.L.D have cameras in the garage and GPS trackers on their vehicles? Aren't we gonna get caught?"
"I called in a favour with one of the tech guys," he explained, not once taking his eyes off of the road to glance at you, "We'll be untraceable for the next few hours."
You nodded, but then another concern struck you. "What if The Director wants to speak with us-"
"The Director is insanely occupied at the moment," Brendon cut you off, "He won't be wanting to speak with any of us anytime soon. Trust me, (Y/N). There's no way I would've ever attempted this if I wasn't sure it would work," he grumbled.
The car ride lasted for approximately an hour, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't get so much as a peep out of Brendon in regards to where you were headed. Considering the past seven months, you assumed that he was taking you somewhere secluded and unmapped, so you were as enormously surprised as ever when you pulled up to a lavish looking night club.
At first, you thought that this was just a quick stop, but once Brendon got out, opened the door for you and waited for you to get out with an expectant look on his face, your eyes practically bulged out of your head.
"Wait, are you serious?"
"I'm always serious," was his typically-Brendon response, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before furrowing his brows, "It's your birthday. And considering the lovely past seven months you've had, I thought you deserved a break. Albeit a short one."
You were speechless. This entire situation was so surreal and unlike your stone cold bodyguard, and you weren't sure what to feel at that moment.
Your lack of verbal communication was daunting, and Brendon's confident demeanour faltered a tiny bit.
"You don't like it."
"What?" you sputtered, "No, no, I-I love it," you reassured him, raising your eyebrows and opening and closing your mouth, trying to think of something to say.
