Fiona had got into a bad habit, and it was proving particularly difficult to break.
She knew that worrying about Adam was something she shouldn't do. Not because he wasn't in danger – he was every single day – but worrying about this made Fiona want to make him stay tucked in bed and not have to put on a suit and stride into work and save some lives.
Everyone at the Grid had always seen the better side of Adam – cunning, charming, brilliant, all the things that had initially attracted her to him. Back when she was Amelia who became Amal who became Fiona. Three separate identities and the latter she wished to stick with. Fiona had him.
No-one knew just how many scars he held, physical and emotional. No-one saw him so torn apart by exhaustion that Fiona sometimes found him sprawled out on the sofa, shoes still on. No-one knew that sometimes he drank too much coffee to pretend to have energy he didn't possess.
And all of this made her love him a little bit more, because every single day he would get up and push aside anything that would jeopardise his ability to work.
But he wasn't invincible. And Fiona didn't know how she could help if the day came that Adam Carter got broken irreparably.
Fiona drew her knees to her chest and flicked the TV channel to another mindless show; the selection was pretty thin at this late hour. Adam had been undercover for a week in Istanbul and he was due to call over two hours ago. Fiona knew, of course she did, that there could be simple communication issues, but she also knew that a failed communication could mean that something was dreadfully wrong.
Laughter erupted from the TV and Fiona winced, turning down the volume, conscious that Wes was sleeping. She shifted off the sofa to stretch her legs, moving to the fridge to find something to drink as she waited for Adam's call. One of his beers was lurking at the back, supposedly hidden. This always made Fiona smile. They were both spies and could spot microscopic cameras hidden in ceilings, but he still thought that the bottle of beer behind the packet of grapes would evade her view. She smirked, popping off the lid and returning to the lounge.
The sound of the phone jolted her awake. Fiona winced at the fact she had nodded off, the beer now warm in her hand. She flicked off the TV and reached for the phone.
"Go to bed, Fi," he said. "I love you."
Fiona didn't need to hear anything else. "I love you too." She replaced the phone and breathed properly for the first time that evening, shrugging off the blanket tucked around her and vacating the sofa to go and steal some sleep. She could at least be appreciative of the lack of duvet-hogging she would receive from Adam that night.