"Epistaxis! Boom!" Toby picked up his empty tray, dropping it on the floor for emphasis. "I believe my domination has been proven again."

Cabe squinted at the Scrabble board, still too stubborn to admit that he needed glasses. "You made that up."

"Person who didn't go to Harvard says what?" the shrink asked with mock offense. "It's the medical term for a nosebleed. Tell him, my sweet little caramel."

Happy rolled her eyes, both at his bragging and the saccharine nickname. "Unfortunately, the doofus is right. Let him have it."

"That's seventy-two points," Toby said, leaning over Allie's notebook to make sure she entered it correctly. She snatched it away, shooting him a dirty look. "Oh, come on. Luggage was a solid effort too."

Allie frowned, glancing over at Cabe. "Why do we do this to ourselves?"

The agent shrugged. "I've been asking myself that from day one." He put a hand on Toby's shoulder, pushing him back into sitting position. "Get out of my wife's face before that tray goes somewhere you'll need a doctor to pull it out of."

Toby's cocky expression faded and he grimaced, shifting uncomfortably at the mere thought. "I believe it's the lady's turn."

"Please," Florence snorted. She arranged her tiles neatly on the board, a self-satisfied smile appearing on her face. "Actinide."

Sylvester glanced sideways at her. "Are all of your words going to be chemistry terms?"

She stared back at him, her expression clearly indicating that she didn't comprehend the purpose of his question. "Yes."

"O-kay. In that case…" The human calculator laid down his letters, offering her a warm smile. "Moiety."

Her grin was even bigger than his. "You're so sweet," she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Ugh. Gross," Ralph muttered. "Effluvium."

"There's no way," Cabe grumbled.

"Real. And you're pretty effluvious yourself with a few pieces of beef jerky, Agent Gallo," Toby cut in, leaving him and Ralph snickering and bumping fists.

Walter bit back a laugh himself. No one could say the joke was unfounded. "Yo, Walt, you playing or what?" Happy called out to him.

"Skip me. I'll play the next round." He wanted to crank out the last few lines of code for Elia before he joined the festivities, but he couldn't help splitting his attention. Walter found the team's banter oddly relaxing after a long case.

The genius spared a peek over his laptop, smiling as Happy and Allie high fived to solidify their pact to bring down Toby together. Cabe tried his best to appear grumpy about his dead last standing, but he couldn't help grinning at Ralph's gentle ribbing.

Paige would appreciate this. It was his fault she wasn't there to see it. All over one stupid mistake that he would have gladly rectified if she'd allowed him.

Happy shoved Toby's arm gently—well, gently for her—while simultaneously picking up a loose tile off the floor. "Go check on Brandon. If he sleeps too long, he'll never get to bed tonight."

"Yes, dear." The shrink obediently disappeared upstairs, where their son was passed out on Walter's bed. Brandon seemed to sleep a lot for a five-year-old. Walter didn't know if that was normal. He didn't have any frame of reference.

Well, not yet, anyway.

The front door creaked open, and Walter bolted up from the couch, regaining his grip on his laptop at the last moment. He set it down on the table and walked over to her at an only slightly increased pace. She hated when he rushed over like something was horribly wrong.

"I got the paperwork you missed," Paige said with a smirk, handing him the stack of documents. "Signatures are all there."

"I told you I would get it," he said, placing a hand on her back and leading her to the couch. She gripped his arm for stability as she lowered down, exhaling when she was settled.

"And I told you…pillow." Paige motioned with her hand, and Walter helped her forward, positioning a red cushion behind her. "That I was closer. There was no point in you going all the way back out there. Besides," she rested both hands on her swollen stomach, smiling through her pretend annoyance. "You won't let me go on any of the fun cases anymore. What the hell else am I supposed to do? Knit?"

Walter raised his eyebrows. "We agreed you wouldn't participate in dangerous cases anymore. I can hardly make you do anything you don't want to do."

"Mm. That is true."

He grabbed one of the unopened water bottles off the table, offering it to Paige. She took it gratefully, unscrewing the cap and swallowing a few large sips. "How was the appointment? I'm sorry I couldn't come with you."

She shrugged. "Yeah, well, Alaska was going to blow up. What can you do?" Paige scooted closer, tucking her head into Walter's shoulder. He put his arms around her—he could still do that, though just barely—and kissed the top of her head. It was illogical and insulting to worry about Paige every second of every day just because she was pregnant. But he always did feel a little better when she was next to him. "It was good. We're healthy. Did I miss anything?"

"No." Walter smiled into her hair, watching the team erupt into laughter as Sylvester and Toby finally gave up on the game and started to hurl tiles at each other. "Nothing important."