Trip of a Lifetime

Day One - Part One

We were an hour into our drive, the wind from my open wind tousling my hair as a barely there radio station crackled in and out of reception, when Spencer gave me a sideways glance and cleared his throat.

"So why did you decide to drive, rather than take a plane?"

I shrugged lightly, "I guess I wanted to make a trip of it and this seemed like a cheaper alternative, we don't all make special agent money."

I shot him a smile and a light laugh, taking a quick look in my mirror at the car coming up behind me.

"Besides," I continued, "I get travel sick easily, driving at least stems that."

Sparing a quick look towards him, I noticed him swallowing thickly while nodding, his eyes darting around the car and then towards the road on his side of the car.

"Hey," I said quietly, "I know you might be a bit trepidatious considering your last...uh...'road trip' but trust me," I smiled at him reassuringly, or at least how I hoped seemed reassuring, "we'll be okay and you've travelled further since, no need to fret."

"Yes, but usually by jet, which is considerably more private than the open road where police can stop you for small things," he looked at me. "Thirty-two million Americans are stopped by police yearly and sometimes it can be for something as small as one light being out for a five minute journey."

"Really? That many?"

"Mhmm," he nodded, "and that's in the US alone."

"Wow, that's a scary thought."

He gave a small hum and nodded again, then went back to looking out of the windows.

Although I was working purely on my own theory, I worried about him feeling uneasy about his first non-jet travelled trip and thus started to feel bad that I hadn't switched up plans to be more accommodating.

Spencer hadn't said anything and I could have widely missed the mark and maybe he was just making conversation with his comment from before, but my brain wouldn't shut up and that lead to me having to break the silence, lest I continued to feel guilty.

"What's your favourite dinosaur?"

His head snapped towards me and I gave him a glance, one long enough to notice the bemused expression he was giving.

"Huh?" He asked, for once sounding like the dumber one.

I laughed and turned onto the next road we needed to take.

"I said; What's your favourite dinosaur?"

"Um, I've never thought about it."

"Oh, okay," I shrugged, letting out another little chuckle.

There was a brief pause then he cleared his throat.

"What's yours?"

"Hm...probably a diplodocus or a brachiosaurus."

He laughed, shaking his head as he watched the road.

"Why?"

"I don't know, they're just cool, or maybe I'm making up for a secret height complex."

"Okay," he pulled his lips to one side then looked back at me. "What's your favourite cheese?"

The next hour or so was spent asking one another random questions, a viable way to learn small details that would otherwise be completely ignored.

Some were more serious than others but the outlandish ones were the ones that we had the most fun with, ones where we had to use our imaginations and creativity to start thinking outside of the box for a solution.

It was amazing hearing Spencer rationalise his choice in superpower, something about a certified genius even needing a superpower tickled me in the first place, as if that wasn't its own blessing and curse.

His very own burden of responsibility with the knowledge he had.

We eventually ran out of questions to ask one another and the car went silent again, though I felt considerably more relaxed this time.

"If the silence bothers you then we can put some music on," I said another half an hour later. "I brought an aux cord and an MP3 with a mixture of music to suit us both."

"You downloaded classical music just for me?"

"Hell yeah I did," I smiled widely, "I won't make you suffer with just my jukebox of trash."

"You really didn't need to do that," he protested, though his smile gave away his true feelings.

Perhaps he was flustered, grateful or both but either way, it was adorable.

"Of course I did, my music taste is pretty diverse but the closest thing I have to classical is some cello covers of rock music and creepy carnival music."

"I have nothing against carnival music."

"Of course not," I laughed, "you're a weirdo like me."

"I'd prefer to say that I'm a Halloween appreciator."

"That does sound classier than weirdo."

"Classic psychology."

"Okay, professor."

He shot me that classic 'cockily proud' closed mouth smile that was wholly Spencer, the only man around who could pull off that kind of expression without coming across as arrogant.

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, shaking my head.

"Yeah, yeah, show off," I laughed, "it's all in the glove box."