You and Spencer never really talked about having kids ─ at least, not seriously. It was a fleeting topic in a few conversations, but it seemed like nothing more than a distant dream. That is, until you got pregnant. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Spencer didn't know how to feel. He was overjoyed at the thought of raising a child with the person he loved most in the world, ecstatic to have created something so beautiful. On the other hand, he was anxious, overwhelmed. He didn't want to turn out like his own father, he didn't want to make the same mistakes.

During your pregnancy, Spencer's awareness and protectiveness increased by tenfold. He tried his best to educate himself on just about everything he needed to know. This included frequent trips to the local library, and researching online. He wanted to be prepared, he wanted to make sure it went as smoothly as possible.

As soon as he held your daughter in his arms for the first time, any self-doubt he had was gone in an instant. He knew he'd never do anything to harm her. He'd kill for her, he'd die for her. His daughter quickly became the light of his laugh, along with you, of course. You two were the reason he kept going. Even now, four years since your daughter was born, nothing changed. No matter how rough of a day he had at work, Spencer's face always lit up with a genuine smile when your daughter came running into his arms.

“Daddy!” She squealed, running down the hall to greet Spencer as he arrived home from work.

“Hey, princess,” Spencer immediately crouched down, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he scooped her up into his arms. You watched the interaction fondly, leaning against the kitchen counter ─ preparing dinner could wait. Spencer rose to his feet, resting the girl on his hip. “You're getting so big,” He teased, a grin still plastered across his face.

He made his way over to you, his free hand cradling your jaw as his thumb stroked your skin. “Hi, honey,” Spencer whispered softly, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips.