Spencer's smart. So smart. He quite literally remembers everything he's ever been told, taught, or has heard in the slightest.

But you, god you, everything seems to go in one ear and straight out of the other. You're job, for Spencer, is to sit there and look pretty and love him.

Call him a terrible person, but he loves it.

Especially now, when you're stood there in the middle of the office, sticking out like a sore thumb, on the tiptoes of your heels as you look over the heads of everyone about for Spencer. You've got two cups of coffee in your hands and your favourite afghan coat, blinking those long, long lashes in confusion.

Your glossy lips are parted and he doesn't think he can control himself as he finally puts you out of your misery, unable to fight off his now rarely seen grin as he hears that gorgeous giggle when you spot him.

Oh, he loves you.

"Hi, gorgeous... What're you doing here, hm?..."