You were bringing your children to visit your wife, Spencer.

Spencer was a cop, so you were taking your babies to the precinct.

You had your baby girl, Olive- or Liv, in a baby wrap so she would stay close to your chest, and you were walking hand-in-hand with your son, Indigo or Indie.

You smiled as the precinct’s elevator doors opened, and your son smiled, tugging on your hand. “Go,” you said, smiling at your son, “Go say hi to your Momma!”

Your beautiful wife who was working on a case, dropped it and caught her son when he came running at her.

She stood up with a smile, lifting Indigo and spinning him around, before sitting down with him in her lap.

You walked up to your beautiful woman, your hand patting your baby girl’s back. She stood up again, moving Indigo to her hip as she leaned in for a kiss.

Your lips collided with hers in a moment of sweet, sweet oblivion. Spencer tasted like mint and coffee, just like always.

You pulled away from the kiss, the hand that wasn’t on Olive’s back coming to her cheek. You stroked her face with your thumb, foreheads pressed gently together. “Σε αγαπώ, Σπένσερ. Πώς πέρασε η μέρα σου?”

Spencer was Greek, and she knew how to speak it, so she had been teaching you. She was so proud that you were learning.

“Η μέρα μου ήταν καλή, Πασχαλίτσα. Μακρύ, αλλά καλύτερα τώρα που θα δω εσένα και τα παιδιά.” She replied, pressing another kiss to your nose as she sat back down.

You sat down as well, grabbing a glass Tupperware container of pasta and meatballs from your bag and putting it on the desk, as well as a napkin and fork.

You started patting Olive’s back as she started to fuss, shushing her as Indigo grabbed at the beads in his braids.