"So, wait, you have all the Star Trek movies?" I asked, glancing at the pile as the credits rolled from the first one.

"Yes."

"Isn't Star Trek, like, grossly inaccurate for someone as invested in scientific truth as yourself?"

"Actually, there aren't that many scientific errors in Star Trek, especially considering how long ago it was made. There are certain improbabilities, but not that many outright errors," Spencer said.

"Wow," I said. "So, other than Star Trek, what else do you watch?"

"I enjoy watching Doctor Who…"

"What about comedies? Disney movies?" I poked, sipping my coffee which was filled with sugar and milk.

"Not really," Spencer confessed.

"Okay, then I am picking out the next movie, and it is… let me see what I have here…" I murmured, getting up and walking over to the messy drawer that held my few movies. "What about 10 Things I Hate About You?"

"Sounds fine."

"Perfect," I said, crawling over to the DVD player. "Can you hand me the case?" I gestured to the open case for Spencer's DVD. He handed it to me, and I gave him a small smile.

"Careful," he said.

"I know," I said, gently removing the DVD and putting it back into the case. Closing it tightly, I placed it on the coffee table with his other movies. I put the DVD in, clicking play.

"So, what exactly is this movie about?" Spencer asked, obviously skeptical

"Okay, so it's loosely based off of Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew, but it's set in high school…it's one of my favorite movies of all time."

"Did you know that Shakespeare's shortest play, The Comedy of Errors, is only a third of the length of Hamlet, his longest play?"

"I did not know that… Did you know that Shakespeare's original grave marker showed him holding a bag of grain but in 1747 citizens of Stratford replaced the bag with a quill?" I said, remembering the fact that I had learned in a theatrical literature class I look in Italy that involved a trip to London and the Globe Theatre.

"I did…" he said, just as the movie began to play. We both fell silent as the screen lit up. Despite his disinterest in the movie, his eyes never wavered from the screen. I kept trying to focus on the movie, but I kept finding myself stealing glances at him.

Even when we were watching a movie, his face was contorted in concentration, his eyes scanning the entirety of the screen. His brain never seemed to rest; his eyebrows furrowed, a sign of that. He occasionally let out a chuckle when a joke was made, his breath would hitch ever-so slightly when something was revealed, and his eyes would narrow when he would find a hole in the plot.

Before I knew it, the movie was over.

"That was a good movie, but I don't understand why-" Spencer began, but I cut him off.

"Dude, just enjoy the movie," I said, standing up, grabbing both of our mugs. "Accept the happy ending!"

"But-"

"Nope! Accept the happy ending!" I protested, making my way to the sink.

"But happy endings aren't probable," Spencer said, following me with the muffin trash.

"How so?"

"It's estimated that anywhere from 40-50% of marriages will end in divorce," Spencer began.

"But that doesn't mean that a happy ending is improbable," I argued, putting the two mugs in the sink. "In your scenario, you base happiness on the notion of marriage. I prefer to think of happiness as a measurement of the good a person does and the good that is done unto them."

"But the theory of a 'happy ending' implies the ending itself… After all one in four people will die from cancer each year and one in fourteen people will die from a sudden heart attack. Those endings aren't happy by anyone's definition," Spencer said.

"Okay, but I don't think the emphasis is on the ending… it's on the happiness. Like, if you were to die right now, and you had the chance to look back at your life… would you feel happy or not?" I asked washing the dishes. Spencer didn't reply at first. "Well?"

"I don't know…" he said. "What about you?"

"I think I'd be content. Not happy. Not sad. Just…content," I said, shrugging as I dried off the dishes. I looked at Spencer to see him deep in thought. "What's on your mind?"

"What?" he asked, breaking from his thoughtful reprieve.

"Say what's on your mind."

Spencer paused for a minute, and I saw his eyes scan my face. He let out a breath before speaking.

"How do you know… if your life made you happy… I mean, how do we even quantify happiness?"

"Wow, just got a little philosophical there," I said, before pausing. "What does the dictionary define happiness as?"

"Happiness is a state of well-being, joy, or contentment."

"Well, constant happiness is not possible, and we tend to hold on the most tragic memories and attach to those, but there are happy memories that are just as attached to us," I said. "I mean, we remember those feelings of loss, but we also remember those of joy."

"But if those unhappy feelings are of such magnitude, how do those happier ones compare?" he questioned.

"They don't," I stated. "But it's whether we grow or fall under the weight of those. Life should be like… like the tide of the ocean! There are high tides, and low tides, and even the in between tides. But there are extreme lows and highs too. It's our job to not let those tides drag us and drown us in our sorrows. We have to hold on the good so we have something to keep us afloat when nothing seems good. And it's those moments that light the darkness, that are our happiest." I finished musing and looked at Spencer.

"That… makes a surprising amount of sense," he said.

"I try my best to make sense," I teased. "So now what?"

"Now what?"

"What should we do next, Dr. Reid?"

"We could turn on another movie?" he suggested. I glanced at the time before getting an idea.

"Let's do that after."

"After what?"

"We are going to cook a nice lunch," I said, grabbing an apron. "And you don't want to get that nice sweater vest all messy, do you?" Spencer's face was a perfect look of confusion and horror as I handed him the apron that Caroline had bought me two months prior. It was hot pink and adorned with phrase "I'll Feed All You Sexy Fuckers" in silvery glitter. I had never used it, but I figured Spencer would rather wear this than ruin his prized sweater vest.

As he put on the atrocious apron, I had only one thought.

Oh, this was going to be fun.