A/N: Thanks to everyone who had read/reviewed so far; I'm really enjoying writing this. They've all been a bit gloomy so far though, so if any of you would prefer a couple of light-hearted chapters I'm happy to write some!
Dimitri had pulled her into a hug just before leaving and told her to get some rest, but Erin knew tonight was be one of many sleepless nights.
When he left, she locked the door behind him before checking the back door too, feeling a sudden urge to ensure that her home was safe. All the windows were shut, the blind drawn, curtains pulled tightly across. Erin took a few seconds to assess the state of the lounge - there were too many coffee mugs scattered on the table and Rosie's toys littered around the carpet. The whole place screamed of disarray and lack of control which Erin tried so hard to recover that she was on her knees, tidying away the dolls and colouring books and carrying the mugs to put by the sink, ready for the dishwasher tomorrow. Erin always wanted to make sure that her house looked the part even if she was having trouble with staying composed.
She paced back up the stairs as quietly as she was able and went back to her room where Rosie was still sprawled out, asleep on Erin's bed. Erin moved to her side and knelt down, smoothing a strand of her brown hair that had fallen across her face, and didn't want to think of what she would be feeling if her daughter hadn't been brought back to her.
Juggling MI5 with a child was something that every single person said Erin wouldn't be able to handle. She was younger than most on the team and sometimes people underestimated her, but Erin knew that she was a capable leader and had all the necessary skills to be an effective officer. But still, people doubted her. Senior figures looked down on her. Even her mother suggested she worked fewer hours, but Erin made it work and balanced her family with her career and thought that it would always go to plan.
It didn't today.
Erin would be naive to think that there wouldn't be difficult days with terrorists and bombs and guns – she had worked in the Service long enough to figure out that these were typical ingredients of a day at MI5 – but it always happened to someone else. Another family lost their father or brother or daughter: never her. It had never been so close to home before.
And so Erin cried silently for the first time in years, careful not to wake her safe, sleeping child, and wondered if her career was ever going to be at the expense of her family.