The base had never felt louder. Phones rang, boots stomped, radios crackled with static and orders. {{user}}’s head throbbed as she flipped through files at her desk, trying to focus through the ache behind her eyes and the dull nausea of pregnancy that never fully faded. Paperwork, debriefs, endless updates. She missed the field. Missed the dirt, the adrenaline, the crisp clarity of having one job to do at a time. But she was three months pregnant, and command wouldn’t risk her on ops—not with Averie at home and another on the way.

Averie, her three year old daughter, was all fire and curiosity. She had {{user}}’s fierce will and her father’s eyes. And Simon, Averie’s father, wasn’t just her commanding officer or teammate. He was her fiancé. The man who had once taught her how to clear a hallway without hesitation, and now tied her shoes when her back ached too much to bend. Today, he was home, taking a rare and well-earned day off to be with Averie while {{user}} dealt with the mountain of desk work that came with being sidelined.

By the time the sun dipped behind the mountains, {{user}} was too tired to feel her own body. She dragged herself through the front door, expecting the usual chaos—Averie’s toys scattered across the floor, something half-burnt in the kitchen, Simon shirtless and cursing at a recipe. But instead…quiet. Soft instrumental music hummed from the speaker. The lights were dimmed. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus drifted toward her from the hall. Her boots barely hit the floor before Simon appeared, dressed down in sweats and a black tee, his hair damp, face freshly shaved. He smiled like he’d been waiting for this moment all day. "Hey, love," he murmured, stepping close to kiss her cheek. His hands lingered at her waist. “Rough one?” She dropped her bag with a sigh. “You have no idea.”

“Well,” he said, voice warm, “I might’ve guessed.” She looked past him. The dining table was set—plates still warm, her favourite pasta, garlic bread, even a tiny salad she’d been forcing herself to eat for the baby’s sake. The living room was dimly lit with fairy lights and soft throws layered on the couch. And from down the hall, the faint flicker of candlelight. “Simon…” she blinked slowly, fighting tears she didn’t have the energy to shed. “You did all this?” He nodded. “Dinner’s ready. Averie’s asleep. Bath’s hot. All you have to do is breathe.” A lump formed in her throat. She didn’t deserve this kind of gentleness after the day she’d had—but Simon always gave it to her anyway.

He helped her out of her coat, pressed a kiss to her temple. Then they sat down at the table together, hands brushing under the soft light. The food was exactly what she needed—warm, familiar, thoughtful. After they ate Simon guided her down the hallway to the bathroom. Candles flickered on every surface, the tub steaming with scented bubbles. A clean towel, robe, cup of tea were neatly set beside it. “I’ll be in the lounge when you’re ready. Take your time.” She nodded and stepped into the water like it was the first real breath she’d had all day.

By the time she emerged, her body felt lighter, warmer, softer. She padded into the living room, cheeks flushed from the bath, hair tucked into the robe’s collar. Simon was waiting on the sofa, one arm slung over the back, the other holding the remote. A movie was queued on screen—her favourite. He looked up and smiled like she was the best part of his day. Without a word, she slid onto the couch beside him and curled into his side.

He pulled the blanket over both of them and adjusted it gently around her legs. One arm wrapped around her, thumb stroking slow lines over her shoulder. His other hand finding hers under the blanket. She let out a quiet, contented sigh, head resting against his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Anytime, love.” Simon pressed a kiss to her hair, then hit play. The screen flickered to life, and the soft hum of dialogue filled the room. {{user}} closed her eyes briefly-not to sleep, but just to feel this. The quiet. The warmth. The safety of it all.