>>5319681As much as it pains you to admit, you’re probably better served as a walking wall of muscle.
With your imposing armor and exotic armament, you’re sure to deter anyone that isn’t suicidally idiotic from attacking Queen Bee.
Plus, you’ve developed something of a knack for investigative work. If she tries anything funny, you’ll spot it and call it in.
Of course, dealing with Queen Bee is probably going to be a pain in the ass. After all, her name is literally <span class="mu-s"> Queen Bee. </span> What kind of person picks that as their name?
When you let Warrant know your decision, his body language relaxes.
Guess he’s about as enthusiastic about playing baby-sitter as you are.
The trip to the palace is short, probably because traffic is ushered out of your way.
The palace itself is as opulent and grandiose as you figured it would be, given the legendary ego of its primary occupant.
After unpacking the last of your gear in your temporary quarters, you’re escorted to meet Queen Bee.
When you encounter her, your first thought is that her picture doesn’t really do her justice. You’ve encountered more than a few pretty women in your travels, but there’s something special about her that really kicks it into overdrive.
She’s speaking with some high-ranking military official, judging from his salad bar of medals and fancy uniform.
When you clear your throat and interrupt, he gives her a smile and strides away.
“You must be my personal guard. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She gives you a smile that could make dead men blush.
Despite your emphasis on pragmatic professionalism while operating in the field, you can’t help but get the slightest bit flustered.
> “Oh, right. Sorry, I’m, uh, Defcon.”What the fuck are you doing? Get your fucking shit together, goddamit.
You feel like smacking yourself right in your stupid face. Here you are, fumbling over yourself in front of the opposite sex like you’re back in high school. If Set were here, he’d never let you live this down.
Thankfully, Queen Bee doesn’t take offense at your stumbling introduction, seemingly finding it more endearing than anything else.
“Defcon. That’s an interesting name, for an interesting man.”
You’re glad that the helmet is hiding your face, because otherwise she’d catch a glimpse of the slight grin beginning to form.
In an attempt to re-focus and ignore your embarrassment, you get down to business.
