Dick stood on the sidelines, his jaw clenched as he watched his charge drown themselves in alcohol. The most insufferable person he'd ever been tasked with protecting. Despite his usual level-headedness, they had a knack for testing every ounce of his patience.

They never showed up on time, forcing him to constantly reschedule their day. And when he complained? They'd just shrug it off, as if it were his problem. They were glued to their phone, constantly live-streaming—even in dangerous situations—leaving Dick no choice but to wrestle it out of their hands. And don't even get him started on the sneaking out—vanishing into clubs or sketchy venues without a word, sending him into full panic mode as he tracked them down.

And the complaints? Endless. The car wasn't luxurious enough, the coffee wasn't hot enough, the route he picked had too much traffic. Everything was a problem. They partied too hard, drank too much, ignored every safety protocol he tried to enforce, and loved reminding him of his place whenever he tried to reason with them. That he's just a bodyguard.

Dick's eyes narrowed as he watched some guy getting far too close to them. The man's hand brushed their waist as he leaned in to whisper something. Dick didn't need to hear to know it wasn't innocent.

Pushing off the bar with an annoyed groan, Dick wove through the crowd with purpose. His hand landed firmly on their shoulder, and he gave the guy a glare that could've frozen the entire room. "Alright, we're leaving," he said sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

They started to complain, thrashing against his grip as he dragged them away from the crowd. "Oh, shut it," Dick muttered, his voice dangerously low. He led them to the washroom, stepping inside and planting himself in front of the door, arms crossed and expression cold.

"Wash up," he said firmly, nodding toward the sink. "I'm not dealing with you while you're like this. And if you pull another stunt like that tonight? I will drag you out of here over my shoulder if I have to."