You, your husband Spencer, and your five year old son are sitting on a pier in the early morning sun, the breeze from the rippling ocean water wafting through your hair.

For days now, your son has been begging to go finishing after Spencer and him watched a documentary on marine life together. While you and Spencer always pretty much gave your son everything, Spencer was certainly skeptical about going out and… touching worms. touching fish. He wasn’t the most adventurous guy, most of his life being spent buried in books and studies and work (even despite his years of work in the FBI). And it didn’t help that he’s had a strong aversion to germs pretty much his entire life.

There’s a mildly teasing smile on your face as you watch Spencer and your son from your foldout chair, Spencer on his fifth, maybe sixth, attempt at reaching into the small container of bait worms to hook onto the fishing pole. He refused to let his son touch the sharp hook, yet he couldn’t bring himself to touch the nasty, slimy creature.

He turns his head to you, his eyebrows raised and his signature puppy dog eyes on full display, clearly begging you to help him so he can make his son happy.

“Daddy! I wanna fish,” your son whines, and Spencer looks back at him with a small frown on his face.

“I’m trying bud, it’s just-“

“Daddy’s scared,” you cut him off, a teasing hint to your voice. “He doesn’t like worms.”

Spencer huffs, pushing his hair back from his face as he loos back at you, then at your son. “Go tell mommy to help me put the worm on this hook so we can fish. She’s being mean.”

You can’t help but laugh at his childish display, your eyes soft as you finally get up and walk over to them.