Detective Erin Lindsay was drunk. Forget drunk, she was pretty fucking wasted. She rolled over on the couch, wondering why she was suddenly so cold. Then she figured out that he'd gone into the kitchen. A couple of minutes earlier he'd been lying on top of her, his erection so far inside of her she could practically feel it inside her stomach. She'd lay there in the darkness, let him have his way, and then he'd disappeared into the other room leaving her cold and naked.

She forced herself onto an elbow and stared around the lounge. It was no lie that she'd let the mess get the better of her. Empty beer bottles and condom packets littered her floor. Several stubs of (his) cigarettes lay in the ashtray on the table. Her dirty clothes were in a heap next to the couch. Erin reached for her tank and yanked it over her head, forcing her arms through the holes. She sniffed, leaned forward, and noticed the baggy he'd left on the coffee table in front of her. A gift, you could call it, for how well she'd performed. Oh well what the hell she thought I deserve this.

Erin found the already-used rolled up dollar bill and emptied the clear packing of its contents. She practically fell forward onto her knees and snorted, the white powder rushing its journey up her left nostril. The thrill of it only lasted seconds and then she was back to feeling like shit. Her everyday feeling these days. She slouched back, her exposed shoulders in line with the couch. Erin ran a hand underneath her nose, making sure she hadn't left any trace of the drugs. Not that it mattered, her apartment already resembled a drug den anyway.

Her iPhone lay on the messy coffee table too. She touched the home button and the screen came to life, telling her it was already midday. Although, she couldn't remember the last time she cared about what time of day it was. Still, she couldn't lay around all day…she had to get to work. With a huge sigh, Erin lifted her weight from the floor and dragged her feet into the kitchen.

He was smoking a joint, leaning out of the window. "I have to go," he spoke with his back to her, although he must have heard her come in.

The spliff he inhaled filled the room with a disgusting aroma. Erin wafted a hand in front of her face, straining to see him through the cloud of smoke. She stood frozen to the spot and watched as he threw the stub out of the window and down onto the street below. A habit of his she hated because the neighbors would file a complaint against her one of these days. They were bound to figure out they were coming from her apartment.

Her company, she couldn't remember this one's name, turned to face her and closed the gap between them. His breath was a foul concoction of whisky and fag ash. He pulled her chin into his palm and planted his lips against hers, squeezing her ass with his other hand at the same time.

"You're a good fuck you know," he laughed, finally releasing her from his grip. "We should do this again some time."

Fat fucking chance she thought, internally. Erin waited and watched as he walked away from her, back into the lounge where she assumed he'd left his clothes. She wiped the back of her hand against her mouth, the desire to remove all traces of him from her body was intense. She fought against making a gagging noise whilst he was still in the vicinity, yet when she heard the door slam closed, she stormed into the bathroom.

Why did she do it? Every single time afterwards, she felt disgusting. Ashamed. Used and worthless. But then she'd have another line and feel exactly the same again. It was an endless cycle, one that she thought would never get in the way of her job.

Today though, it was making her late. Erin stepped into the shower and scrubbed at her skin until she was red raw and almost bleeding. She forced two fingers down her throat and threw up the contents of her stomach, removing every trace of what had happened last night and this morning.

She stayed beneath the shower head, drinking large gulps of the water, her mouth so dry. Without looking down at her body, because that was something she hated doing, Erin turned off the water, stepped out, and wrapped a towel underneath her arms. Grabbing her toothbrush, she forced herself along the apartment towards her bedroom. Somewhere she hadn't paid much attention to in the past 24 hours. Her patrol uniform lay inside-out on the floor where she'd carelessly left it after yesterday's shift. Her king-sized bed still unmade after she'd rolled out of it, the comforter ruffled so she could practically crawl back into it. The thought definitely crossed her mind.

Erin threw the towel onto her bed and walked to her closet, wriggling into a pair of jeans and a fresh tank. No need for any patrol uniform today. She shuffled back to the bathroom, spat up the contents of her mouth then searched around for her glock and badge. They never seemed to be where she left them. She located them eventually, beneath the piles of laundry and trash in her room.

"Gotcha," she said to herself and reached for them, grabbing her sunglasses and leather jacket before straightening herself up to look presentable.

The smallest part of her, in the back of her mind, told Erin that she shouldn't be driving to work. She always ignored the rational part of her thoughts though. So, locking the apartment behind her, she threw herself into the Jeep and started the engine.

Turning up the radio loud- to drown out all her thoughts and memories of this morning- Erin kept both eyes on the road on her route to work. By the time she reached the District, Erin was having the all too familiar withdrawal of caffeine, of her fix. Realizing she couldn't do anything about it, she pushed her sunglasses further up her nose and made for the building. She ignored snarky comments from the desk sergeant and headed for the bull pen, using the majority of her energy to climb the steps.

The rest of her team were huddled around one desk in conversation when she interrupted. They turned to face her, hearing her footfall, and Voight spoke up.

"Lindsay," his voice was low. "Nice of you to grace us with your presence. My office," his head tilted to the direction of it. "Now."

Erin used one hand to push her sunglasses off her face and followed him, glancing at the rest of her unit as she walked past. She shuddered slightly as Voight slammed the door behind them.

"Sit," he barked and she did, unzipping her leather and folding her arms, waiting.

"What the fuck, Erin?" one of his palms slammed against the desk. "What time do you call this?"

She shifted position to check the time on her cell phone. It wasn't in her pocket and Erin realized she hadn't picked it up off the coffee table. "I'm guessing 1pm?" she exhaled. "I thought I was on the late shift today-"

"You're not," Voight moved to occupy the chair opposite. "And this is becoming too much of a habit." As he looked at her, his face appeared to soften slightly. "I can't keep making excuses for you Erin," he shook his head. "The team, not to mention the Commander…they'll start to ask questions."

"I know," she replied, only just refraining from rolling her eyes. This was something he'd said before. "It won't happen again."

"You said that last week," Voight remembered. "And the week before."

"I know," the Detective repeated. So what if she was going through this so-called 'rough patch'? It wasn't like he was gonna do anything about it.

"This isn't okay, I can't rely on you turning up out of your head or three hours late for work," Voight continued. "I don't want you to lose your job Erin but you can't keep going on like this."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Voight sighed. "It means I have a proposition for you," if she had lost any interest in the conversation, she was definitely listening now. "Put it this way, you have two choices. I send you to rehab," Voight watched his Detective twist her face at this: he knew she didn't wanna go there. He paused for a minute to make her sweat, before rising from his chair and walking towards the window. "There is another option. You know the Royal family, right?"

Erin's head shot up. "As in, the Queen?"

Voight nodded. "Yeah-"

"Well obviously I don't know them," she sassed. "But I know who they are."

Her boss opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to think of a quick remark back. "Enough," he gulped. "They need somebody from the Intelligence Unit-"

"I'll do it."

"You don't even know what it entails-"

"Can't be that bad," she shrugged. "Cause I'm not going to any fucking rehab."

Voight's gaze drifted to the view outside. He wasn't even sure anymore if he could trust her, he didn't recognize the person she was turning into. Should he even be offering her this opportunity in the first place? One glance back at Erin though, and suddenly she'd morphed into the vulnerable sixteen year old girl he used to know.

"Listen to me right now," his tone took a serious turn. "This is pretty fucking serious. They want somebody as a bodyguard for the Queen's youngest grandson."

Erin fought not to laugh out loud. "Bodyguard? Me?!"

Voight avoided eye contact. "You're the one who doesn't want special treatment because you're a woman," he sighed, shook his head. "You do this…I draw a line in the sand."

She actually did laugh this time. "You mean, you'll actually get off my back?"

"…and you need to get off the drugs, get clean," he continued. "I doubt you'll have time to do them anyway."

"What do you mean?" she tried to maintain interest in the conversation. "All I'd have to do is babysit the Prince for a few hours, right? How bad can it be?"

"Erin," Voight folded his arms. "The Princes isn't four. He doesn't need babysitting." He moved for a minute, walking towards a pile of papers he had, seemingly to remind him of specific information. "Prince James Halstead isn't a child, he's 26." He watched her face change and head her gulp. "I'm doing this to challenge you. Let's just say he's got a bit of a reputation-"

"Enlighten me," Erin rolled her eyes.

"His family…they have their suspicions about his recreational habits," he said. "I'm betting you're gonna be around drugs. I'm betting you're gonna be around alcohol. And you're gonna have to resist the temptation-"

"Maybe I'll go to rehab," she interrupted, only half joking.

"I'm serious," Voight sat in front of her. "He's getting the Royal family into the media for all the wrong reasons. You'd be the one accompanying the entourage in public engagements, acting professional, taming his behavior-"

"He's not a fucking lion, Hank-"

To her surprise, Voight laughed. "There's a part of me that believe you can do this. You're probably the best candidate I have to put forward: there's nothing to tie you down to this city, you have no commitments-"

Erin shifted position, one arm dangling down the side of the chair. "So what you're saying is I've got no choice? Or rather, I do but the alternative is a rehab? What if I don't wanna fly half way across the world to….I don't care how you spin it, it sounds like babysitting."

"Oh Erin, it's not babysitting. They're relying on you to not let the media see him wasted. And yes, think of it this way: you go, you're proving to me you can work clean. You stay, and you're temporarily off my team and on unpaid sabbatical."

Erin rolled her eyes. "Unbelievable." She wished she hadn't bothered turning up for her shift today, perhaps she could have avoided this conversation. Her chair was suddenly uncomfortable so Erin shot out of it. "How long do I have to decide?"

"Go home and decide. You'll be no use to me today," he said, taking in her appearance. Judging by the huge purple bags beneath her eyes and the constant fidgeting, she wasn't far from another fix or another pill. Voight knew he was being harsh. But she needed it. "Call me with your decision. Because they need somebody out there by the end of the week."

"Right," she huffed, turning her attention away from him. It was annoying that he had so much power over her but then again, he was initially the one who'd taken a chance on her. Erin held her head low as she walked out of the office, avoiding eye contact with the rest of her team. It kinda felt like she'd just been summoned to the principal's office, in front of all the other kids. She could feel eyes burning into the back of her until she reached the bottom of the stairs again and she was out of their sight. God knows just how much Voight had told them. Probably everything, considering they were a close unit.

When she reached the car, Erin slid into the driver's seat and thumped her forehead against the wheel. A bad idea for the headache that was already brewing at the front of her skull. The sooner she got back to the apartment, she could sleep it off. Erin rested against the headrest and pushed her sunglasses back over the top half of her face. She kept her foot on the gas until she reached the apartment block, probably having gone over the speed limit twelve times too many.

She was barely through the apartment door before she slithered her arms out of her leather, removing another item of clothing with each step she took towards the bedroom.

An annoying but familiar repetitive ringing sound disturbed her an hour later. Erin's head lifted slightly from her pillow and she threw the comforter off the top half of her body. The headache was gone, but she could definitely have slept for another hour. The cell phone by her bed told her it was just before 4pm and she'd expected the incessant bringing to be coming from the device.

It wasn't and it took her a second to realize that it was in fact the doorbell, somebody kept pressing and pressing so the ding-dong tune was constant in her eardrums. Erin huffed and slid out of the covers, pushing her messy curls away from her face. She threw the first long-ish shirt she came across over her body and swayed in the direction to the apartment door, her eyes scrunching with the brightness. "What the f-"

"Erin," oh. "Did you forget about our appointment?"

"No you're just in time," she replied, stepping back so he could get in. At least she could remember the name of this one- Tyler, right?- and Erin watched as he threw off his jacket, kicked off his shoes and seemed to make himself at home. "Beer?"

"Of course," Tyler smirked, widely so she could see his yellow teeth. "I brought you a present."

Intriguing. Erin directed him into the kitchen and watched him stand in the middle of the room. What the fuck was he looking around for? He'd been in this apartment countless times, there was no change and yet he was acting odd.

"What did you bring me?" she asked, jumping so she sat on the counter and her legs were swinging down the front of it. Her company turned towards her, a wicked grin taking over his face.

"Oh," Tyler reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced a baggy. He licked his bottom lip as he metaphorically saw Erin's eyes light up. As she reached eagerly for the white stuff, he held it out of her reach and tutted, shaking his head. "Ah, ah, ahhhh…" his head tilted in the direction of the lounge (or her bedroom, Erin couldn't tell because they were both to the left) "…You haven't given me what I want yet," he sneered.

Erin clicked her tongue then held it to the roof of her mouth. Of course. She shouldn't expect anything less of Tyler, he always had the same fucking thing on his mind.

"The lounge then," she said, her hands playing with the bottom of the shirt she was wearing. Or rather, the one she wouldn't be for much longer. "Now."

"Oh a girl that tells me what to do is hot," he seethed, removing his jacket and throwing it carelessly onto her kitchen floor. He followed her into the lounge, looking on seedily as she let down her hair and with a deep breath, reached to take off the top she was wearing. As he walked towards her, he looked down at her arms and the tops of her legs where new bruises had formed, definitely since the last time he was here. "Who did this to you?"

"None of your business," Erin turned her back to him and lay on the couch, her hands resting on either side of her head. "Come on then," she gestured for him to come closer, lying in wait. Erin looked on as Tyler stripped himself of his clothes and climbed on top of her.

Her mind was elsewhere tonight and she lay there letting him have his way. She looked in his direction when it was necessary, to make it look as though she was interested. The reality was though, she was far from fucking interested.

When he was done, quicker than usual so he was either gonna be pissed or wanna do it again, Tyler stood above her and immediately started rolling up a joint. He lowered his naked buttocks onto the coffee table and inhaled, blowing a puff of smoke in front of him.

Erin rolled onto her side and stretched a hand to him, wanting her reward. She couldn't remember how many hours it had been since her last fix but she was beginning to feel it. A quick line would sort out her feelings for at least the next half hour- and that's all she cared about right now.

"I have a question," she said suddenly after he'd handed over the baggy.

"Shoot," Tyler spoke between puffs. "What is it?"

Erin's gaze was fixated on her new present but she still continued the conversation. "You have guys in London, right? I mean, you have guys all over the globe?"

Tyler narrowed his eyes. "Why do you wanna know?"

The next bit of news wasn't gonna go down well. "Work might be sending me to London-"

"Fucking London?" he shouted, his leg bouncing constantly against the table. "Why the fuck are you going to London?"

"It's work, I might have to go," Erin shrugged, forcing herself into a sitting position. "Answer the question."

"Of course I have guys in London but that doesn't mean I'm happy about you going to the other side of the fucking world," Tyler replied, slamming a fist against the coffee table. "When would you be going?"

"I don't know yet man," she said, truthfully. "But I'll need their numbers if I do go-"

"Yeah that's no sweat," Tyler shrugged, reaching for his pants that he'd dropped onto the carpet.

"That's all I needed to know," Erin laughed, throwing her head back against the couch cushions. "You can go now."

"What?" Tyler looked taken aback: she wasn't one to cuddle afterwards but she wasn't one to chuck him out of the apartment either. Today he could tell she wasn't into it, not like her usual eager self. "You're kicking me out after I just gave you all of that?"

"I'm not kicking you out honey, I just have places to go," lie number one. "People to see," lie number two. "I don't even know if I'm going yet," lie number three (she'd already decided she wasn't going to rehab) "…so I'll definitely see you again soon before anything happens." And that was lie number four: if she needed to be in England as early as next week, she wouldn't be seeing Tyler again before that.

Tyler shrugged his disapproval but started moving towards the door anyway. "Fine," he was pissed off that he'd only got one round today. "Bye Erin."

She waved a dismissal and waited for the apartment door to click closed before heading back to the bedroom to find her cell phone. It's still on the unit next to her bed and Erin picked it up, exhaling literally all of the air from her lungs. Her fingers hover over the home button for long seconds before she decides to unlock it.

There's at least five people in her contact list that she could talk to right now: the top pick of which would offer her narcotics or something to settle her craving. She rubbed away sleepiness from her eyes, her gaze focussed on the screen until she came to the letter further down the alphabet that she needed, she kept all her contacts under surname.

"Jesus fuck," Erin cursed to herself as she thought about what she was about to agree to. It wasn't as though she had a choice in the matter though: she'd be out of a job if she didn't agree to it.

Her boss picked up when the phone had only been calling for a second. "I need to know more," she spoke first before Voight had the chance to.

"What do you need to know?"

She could almost hear the laughter coming through in his tone: why the fuck did he find this funny? Erin realized he'd not told her many details about the job, he was sure to know more than he was letting on. "How long?"

There was a sigh from the other end of the call. "Initially, it's three months. Call it a trial period-"

"Trial period. Right," she mimicked, rolling her eyes because he couldn't see. "…and then what happens?"

"That depends on you," there he was again, laying the ball in her court. Or rather, making her feel that was the case when in fact she didn't have much choice in the matter. It was this, stay at work but on the other side of the world, or some rehabilitation centre where she'd be surrounded by people she didn't want to be. Junkies. Crack-heads. And she wasn't one of those.

Erin didn't say anything for a minute and Hank took it as a sign for him to continue. "Why are you calling me Erin?"

She trapped her tongue between her teeth, pulled it back. "I'll do it, okay?" she finally said. "I'll do it."

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