Galen flicked through the TV channels while Quid worked her way through a book on quantum physics. He stopped and nudged her.

“Hmm?” Quid murmured, turning a page.

“Book down, time to watch some TV,” Galen said.

Quid glanced at the screen, Jeopardy was just starting.

“Galen…” she started softly.

“Quid,” he replied, leaning in and rubbing his nose against hers. “Every time you answer a question, you’ll get a kiss.”

She closed her book a little, pale blue eyes wary and skeptical, a small furrow between her eyebrows.

“Every time I answer a question correctly,” she clarified and Galen shook his head.

“Every time you answer a question, right or wrong,” he said.

Slowly, Quid closed her book and set it to the side, sitting up straighter, focusing on the host of the show. Even though he wasn’t asking her the questions, the knowledge that Galen was expecting her to answer made her mind go blank and a low buzz start up in her ears. She could barely hear the questions over that and the thud of her heart.

At the first commercial break, Galen put his arm around her and pulled her back against the couch and tugged her to lean against him. When the show started up again, he began to guess answers. Sometimes he knew and was right, most times he was wrong – ridiculously so. Quid didn’t answer any questions that night and was preparing herself for Galen’s disappointment. She opened her mouth to apologize, her throat aching with suppressed tears, but Galen just kissed her softly.

They watched Jeopardy for three weeks straight, Galen answering every question whether he knew it or not, laughing when it was tragically wrong and crowing with victory when he was right. He had to hunt down Quid and coerce her into watching for the first week. The second week she finally relaxed enough to smile at his antics and halfway through the third her mind ceased to be a blank wasteland. Every week, Galen would remind her that if she answered a question she would get a kiss, but at the end of every episode he gave her a long, sweet kiss regardless.

During the last show of the fourth week, Galen decided to answer every question with, “What is your face?”

In the middle of a commercial break, his phone buzzed and he looked down and rolled his eyes.

“Elliot,” he muttered, long-suffering and fond, and tapped out a response.

The show returned and the next question was asked before he was finished and out of reflex, when Galen said nothing, Quid whispered, “What is your face?”

Galen laughed, tossed his phone to the recliner across the room, and kissed Quid breathless.


Quid finished answering the General, her response slow and stilted, but a response nonetheless, and instinctively turned to Galen, her face upturned for a kiss.

“Good job,” he said, pressing his mouth to hers.

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