It wasn’t often that Spencer let loose, but tonight was an exception. After a grueling case and a much-needed day off, you’d convinced him to join you for a quiet night in with a bottle of wine or three. What started as an evening of casual conversation had quickly turned into slurred laughter and shared secrets as the alcohol worked its way into your systems.

“I’m just saying,” Spencer said, his words running together as he gestured wildly with his glass, “statistically speaking, the odds of you not being the clumsiest person I’ve ever met are… negligible.”

You gasped in mock offense, nearly spilling your drink as you shoved his arm. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you! How many times have you tripped over your own shoelaces during a case?”

“That’s different,” he argued, a wide grin breaking across his face. “I’m thinking about… important things! You’re just…” He paused, squinting at you, trying to come up with a rebuttal. “...distracted by shiny objects!”