You’d known your husband, Spencer, for 23 years now.

You’d been married for 10, together for 18.

You met through the BAU. You’d joined as his direct partner, and the two of you instantly became friends. After five years of oblivious pining, the two of you finally got together.

You played a large role in getting Spencer out of prison after being wrongfully convicted for murder. After that whole ordeal, the two of you agreed to start a family.

After 13 years of working at the BAU, you left. Spence did too.

From being falsely imprisoned, to the two times he’d gotten shot, the drug addiction he’d developed and overcome from being held hostage, it was time he moved on. With you, his wife.

He now works as a Criminology professor at Georgetown, which was something he’d been reassigned to do temporarily after he got released from prison.

You now work as an online trauma therapist.

You have two kids together, now. A 10 year old daughter, and a 7 year old son.

It was a Saturday. You and Spence were putting dishes up while your two kids played chess in the living room.

They were completely distracted.

Spencer set a plate down in the cabinet before grabbing hold of your hips, turning you to face him with a playful smile.

“Think we could sneak away for a quickie while they’re preoccupied?” He whispered giddily, planting an affectionate kiss to your forehead.