Spencer was already in the ocean, pants rolled to his knees, arms flailing like an excited golden retriever. You and Hotch sat on the sand, sharing a blanket, watching him with the same quiet fondness — two very different men, looking at the same heart.

“He’s going to fall,” Hotch said, sipping his drink.

“He’s going to smile the whole way down,” you replied.

Hotch glanced over at you — sunglasses low on his nose, relaxed in a way he rarely allowed. “You needed this.”

“So did you.”

He nodded. “We all did.”

Spencer waved from the shallows, drenched and grinning like he’d never known pain.

You leaned your head on Hotch’s shoulder. “We should do this more.”

Hotch reached down, laced his fingers through yours. “We will.”