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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ: ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀᴇ

❝ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ. ❞

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CONSIDERING THAT – OVER THE COURSE OF THE PAST FEW MONTHS – YOUR PARENTS HAD BEEN BRUTALLY MURDERED, you had been ripped from normal life, your friends had gotten caught in the crossfire between the people trying to hurt you and those trying to protect you, you had been forced to go into hiding and cut any form of communication with the outside world, you have had to live in a drab, uninviting room instead of your own house, you had been tortured by someone you thought was your friend, you were constantly arguing with your bodyguard, you went on a super important mission to Germany where you just barely escaped death (yet again), you had uncovered your dad's secret journal and you were just being overall kept in the dark about most things going on within and directly impacting your own life, your 22nd birthday wasn't as bad as you thought it would be.

After your wonderful wake-up call of coffee and a delicious cupcake – courtesy of your bodyguard – you were in a great mood, which only got greater once you went to breakfast. Brendon had prepared your favourite breakfast: Croque Madame.

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At breakfast.

As soon as you stepped into the break room, the wonderful aroma of your choice breakfast food embraced your nostrils, and your face lit up with hope.

"Is that..." you started, taking a seat at the circular glass table in the middle of the room; you gasped happily when Brendon set the plate down in front of you, "It is! Croque Madame!" you gushed, wasting no time in grabbing a knife and fork and digging in.

"Your favourite," he commented, taking his place opposite you.

Chewing and swallowing the bite you had in your mouth, you gave him an incredulous look. "How did you know that?"

"I pay attention," he shrugged, taking a gulp from his coffee cup.

"Are you ever gonna give me anything more than just cryptic answers?" you sighed.

Brendon narrowed his eyes at you, tapping his fingers against the pale porcelain of the mug, before opening his mouth to speak. "Tuesday at training, while you were in the middle of one of your many proclamations about how much you hate me," he began; you averted your gaze in shame, "You said that given the chance, you'd run me over with a car for nothing more than a chocolate cupcake and a Croque Madame. Call it a hunch."

"Right," you cleared your throat before taking another bite, carefully swallowing before addressing your bodyguard again, "It's delicious. Thank you, Brendon. I really appreciate it."

"It's your birthday."

You gave a sincere smile (which Brendon had to summon all of his willpower not to return), and then resumed contentedly munching on your breakfast, looking forward to the impending day for the first time in seven months.

~

After your wonderful breakfast, Brendon was summoned by The Director to take care of some hiccups with some or other lesser priority case. He'd be gone for an hour or two at the most, so you were left in the company of Agent Hill, who brought the rest of her delectable chocolate cupcakes along with her.

The two of you spent the time Brendon was away eating the sweet treats and talking. It was delightful to be able to have a conversation with another person that wasn't your bodyguard or The Director – especially since Corvey was avoiding you like the plague – and it was an added bonus that the aforementioned person was Agent Hill. It felt almost like you were out having a good time with one of your girls. Although admittedly, it also sent a twang of pain through your heart; you missed your friends dearly. But you were extremely grateful for the incredible company that was Agent Hill, and the two hours flew by in no time.

Brendon was being noticeably more gentle and marginally more friendly and warm towards you, and the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon playing cards, reading, and talking. He even told you a few stories from past missions. It was nice.

When the clock struck seven, Brendon stood up and grabbed his jacket from behind the chair, beckoning to you get up too. Apprehensively, you did.

"What's going on?"

"It's time to go," he replied, slipping on the black jacket before pulling out his phone and tapping away.

"Go where?"

"I told you," he said, eyes still locked on the screen as he read the reply from whoever he was texting, "It's a surprise," he finished, looking up at you and cocking his head to indicate that he wanted you to follow him as he walked to the door.

"Right," you nodded, eyes squinted as you followed him out, "Can I at least get a little bit of info? Ya know, just to alleviate the dread that's coursing through me."

"Agent Hill is waiting for you in the garage; she has your change of clothes. I need to double-check something. Go down in the meantime and I'll meet you there," he said, using his key card to open the door that led down to the parking garage.

You frowned a little as your thoughts raced. Garage. Change of clothes.

"Wait," you said, opening your palm on the glass door to hold it as you turned back to face your bodyguard, who raised an eyebrow in expectation, "Are we..." you were almost too scared to say the next few words, mostly because of the disappointment you would feel if he denied it, "leaving HQ?"

Brendon fixed his steely gaze on you for a moment before starting to walk off.

"Don't let anyone see you."

~

You immediately spotted Agent Hill as you stepped into the parking garage; she was standing at one of the adjoining doors – the one leading into the restrooms – and she was holding a duffle bag containing what you could only assume was the change in clothes Brendon had previously mentioned.

As you approached her, she beamed at you and when you were close enough, she held out the bag, and you readily accepted it.

"You need to hurry," she quipped, holding open the door to the restroom for you, "You only have a few minutes."

"Do you know what Brendon has planned?" you questioned, entering the room.

She smirked at you. "Hurry."

The door slammed shut in your face, leaving you staring at it with a perplexed expression. Shaking your head lightly, you unzipped the bag and carefully removed the contents. A smile formed on your lips as you examined the items of clothing that you were positive Agent Hill had picked out for you; you were confident that Brendon's taste in women's fashion was not at this level.

It was a simple outfit; it wasn't stunning enough to attract too much attention, but it was still classically sexy. A strappy satin black dress made up the base of the outfit, and was complimented by a pair of matte black heels and a black leather jacket.

You made your outfit change as quickly as you could, stuffing the clothes you had been previously wearing into the bag.

With a glance in the mirror, you neatened your hair up a bit before opening the door and re-entering the garage. Brendon was there, standing and having a hushed conversation with Agent Hill; he did a double take when he saw you.

Both agents fell silent as you approached them, and their gazes were totally fixed on you, causing you to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and avert your gaze shyly. Hill was nodding approvingly, clearly proud of her work, while Brendon was wearing his signature poker face. He – naturally – wasn't showing any emotion at all, but you could see him swallow harshly.

"So, uh..." you started. This snapped both of them out of their trance, and Brendon moved to open the door of the nearby SUV, gesturing for you to hop in.

Shooting a quick smile at Hill, you gladly slipped into the car, and Brendon got into the driver's seat soon after.

After one last survey of the area and a curt nod to Agent Hill, Brendon sped off, up the ramp and out of HQ.

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Thank you for reading x

Note: Double update.