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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ: ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ ғᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ

❝ ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴍɪssɪᴏɴ, ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟsᴇ. ❞

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RIDING SHOTGUN IN A S.H.I.E.L.D SUV with Brendon in the driver's seat, you rested your arm on the car door and looked out across the vast expanse of noise and bright lights known as Las Vegas. Sin City was the one place that had eluded you in both your personal and work related travels, and now that you were finally able to experience its mezmirising beauty and uniqueness in person, you felt giddy.

Unsurprisingly, your partner felt the exact opposite.

He hated, with a capital HATED, returning to Vegas. Nothing good ever happens in Vegas. Why the fuck were they stationed in Vegas?

"I love coming back to Vegas," Ambrose piped up from the backseat, poking his head in between your and Brendon's seats, "Good things always happen in Vegas. I'm so hyped that we're stationed in Vegas."

"Say 'Vegas' one more time and I'll throw you out of the goddamn window."

The Lunatic scrunched up his face and poked the side of Brendon's jaw. "Who pissed on your battery? Lighten up."

With a low growl and an angry glare, the icy agent elbowed the Hound in the chest, propelling him back into his seat. Everyone else in the car seemed overjoyed at the prospect of visiting the illustrious city, and that only added to his irritation.

"This isn't a joke," Brendon's stern voice chased away the excited buzz in the SUV, "We're here for a mission, nothing else."

"I'm sure we could squeeze in a little bit of sightseeing," you chided, looking to the driver with a raised eyebrow, "Or are you determined to spoil this trip for everyone with your..." you made hand gestures all around him, "angst?"

He stared at you blankly. "Nice to know I can count on you to take missions seriously. Really," he looked up at The Hounds in the rearview mirror, "I'm so lucky to have all of you with me."

"Buzzkill."

"Guys, Urie's right, okay?" Ever the voice of reason, Rollins leapt to the icy agent's defense. "Until we close this one, every ounce of our focus should be on the mission. OOO, 100% ARIBICA BLEND!"

Scooting closer to the door, Rollins pressed his face against the window and gazed up in awe at the giant billboard advertising ground coffee beans. From the opposite end of the back seat, Reigns gave a condescending stare.

"Every ounce of our focus, huh?"

Rollins gave an unapologetic shrug, then turned to his fellow Hound with wide eyes. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find decent coffee back home? I don't think you do."

"Okay, but what has that got to do with the mission?"

"Nothing, but it's just-"

"Can everyone shut the fuck up?" Brendon snapped, hitting the steering wheel frustratedly, "Please. Shut the fuck up."

Startled by the agent's sudden outburst, the rest of you stared unblinking at him, then shared a wide-eyed look before settling into your seats quietly. The drive into the city continued with an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air and a sense of agitation prevelant in the SUV.

Brendon was frowning, hands gripping the wheel tight as he focused on the road ahead. You'd sneak a glance his way every few seconds, just to make sure he wasn't about to veer the vehicle off of the road out of anger.

And to try and decipher what the hell was going on with him.

He was colder than usual, barely paying you any mind and brushing off every bit of communication from your part. Any slight comment or minor inconvinience set him off, resulting in everyone around him falling victim to his death stare and overly harsh words. It was as if he was constantly on edge, and for the sake of everyone's wellbeing – including Brendon's own – you needed to get to the bottom of it.

From the onset, it was crystal clear that the prospect of being on a mission in Vegas was not an exciting one for your bodyguard. The moment Dallon spoke those two syllables during the mission briefing the previous afternoon, the colour drained from Brendon's face and his jaw had pulled taught.

Much like now.

You looked at him, watching as tiny beads of sweat started forming along his forehead, but didn't say anything. Instead, your hand moved to where his was gripping the steering wheel, and your fingers closed around his white knuckles.

Without tearing his gaze from the road, he twisted his hand so that his fingers could intertwine with yours.

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A short while later. S.H.I.E.L.D safehouse, Las Vegas.

"Talk to me, Weekes."

Brendon rolled up his sleeves as he strutted into the room, stopping next to where you sat at the head of the glass table; Dallon's hologram loomed over the centre.

"Alllllrighty then," the techie's animated voice flooded the room, bringing everyone to attention, "Let's start with a bit of a recap, just to make sure that those of us who never pay attention are all caught up."

Looking down over the rim of his glasses, Dallon tossed a patronising look in Ambrose's direction.

"Wha...?" the Lunatic looked up from the tablet in his hands, genuinely confused. The rest of you rolled your eyes.

"My point exactly. ANYWAY," Dallon shook his head before running through a breakdown of what was already known, "We've got a series of abductions occuring in major cities the world over. Victimology is consistent – young, healthy couples who seem to have been runaways. They've been reappearing a couples weeks after their disappearances and displaying superhuman abilities. Now..."

The techie scooted his chair closer to the screen, and began clicking away on the keyboard. "We don't have much more than that to go on, buuut I did find something interesting..."

Each of your tablets lit up with new information, and everyone began studying it immediately. It was a world map littered with red dots.

"There's been twenty reported cases so far. Those are the locations. Notice anything interesting?"

Rollins picked it up first, trailing one gloved finger along the screen. "They're following a pattern. Starting in Toronto and ending in Cape Town, then repeating the hits."

With a toothy grin, Dallon pointed his Chewbacca pen at the Hound. "Bingo. They hit Toronto last weekend, and the next location following the pattern is-"

"Vegas," Brendon finished, eyes glued to the map. "We don't have much time."

"Yeah, we don't have a plan, either," Reigns reminded, resting his forearms on the tabletop. "We have no idea what we're dealing with, or how to go against it."

For the first time since sitting down, you spoke. "It's simple, really."

All five males turned to give you their undivided attention.

"Brendon and I will pretend to be a runaway couple, they capture us, we take them down from the inside out," you shrugged, standing up, "Easy as that."

Brendon narrowed his eyes slightly, giving you an icy stare. Your suggestion was a tad surprising to him; things were still severely fractured between the two of you. It wouldn't take much for your simple plan to backfire.

Picking up on his thoughts, you lolled your head to the side and blinked at him. "Unless you have a better idea?"

The brooding agent gave the smallest shake of the head.

Clasping your hands together, you pressed your lips in a tight smile. "So it's settled, then. We'll get to work in the morning. But until then..." Spinning on your heel, you looked to Rollins with a raised brow. "Coffee run?"

"Fuck yeah!"

The Hound was on his feet and next to you in a matter of seconds, and you playfully ruffled his hair as the two of you headed for the garage.

"Brendon."

Dallon calling for him caused Brendon to focus solely on the techie once again. He gave an expectant look.

"There is one tiny detail I forgot to mention..."

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Thank you for reading x