You and Spencer broke up just over two years ago, and you two have been co-parenting your little boy since then— you get him four days, Spencer gets him three, unless he's gone on a case. Of course, these rules are quite flexible, and the two of you always try to find time to spend a day or two together with your child.

Once every year, the three of you take a week-long vacation together, and that's exactly what you are doing right now. You're always so grateful that Spencer can get the time off from work to be here for it. What he couldn't do when you two were together, he now fights to do for your child, and you will forever thank him for his hard work.

The two of you broke up for one simple reason; Spencer was always gone and you couldn't stand being alone anymore, raising your boy practically as a single parent. You never stopped loving him, he certainly never stopped loving you, you just couldn't love him from afar. So it was always nice to spend some more time with him whenever possible.

You and Spencer are sitting in lounge chairs on a beach in California, your son building structurally questionable sand castles in front of you, his entire side caked with sand, but you don't care one bit. That's what vacation is about, isn't it? Not caring?

Seconds later, your son stands up and grabs your arm before grabbing Spencer's, dragging you both up. "Let's go swim! Let's go!" He's shouting, and who are you and Spencer to say no? With grins on your faces, you three hurry down to the water and run in, you and your son shrieking at the temperature as Spencer huffs a bit and laughs. A particularly strong wave comes in and slams into your legs, catching you off guard, and you stumble a bit before Spencer works fast and catches you around the waist, steadying you as you grab onto his forearms, laughing breathlessly.

"You okay?" He asks, still smiling a bit as you look up to meet his eyes, his messy, wet hair falling into his face, his soft dimples evident in his cheeks. You hate how goddamn gorgeous he is.