Spencer Reid has always been different. He's smarter than most people his age, as well as those older than he. But, he could also see things. When he was little, his parents smiled and told him he had a wonderful imagination. As he grew older, and told his parents of the fairies in the neighbor's garden, or the new mailman with the features of a cat, his parents' reactions were very different. While his mother smiled and told him that, yes, Mr. Leon's whiskers were very nicely groomed today and of course the Feylettes were drawn to Ms. Marconi's rhododendrons, his father scolded him to grow up and Diana, for God's sake stop feeding his delusions and take your meds.

So, he stopped speaking of it, and wrote it down, drew it. And when his mother pointed out things he saw and didn't speak about, he just smiled and moved on. When he was in high school, and the popular kids tied him to the football post and left him there alone until dark, he was set free by a small, white ferret-like creature with blue eyes. It's fur sparked with electricity. It chewed through the ropes, and its paws felt like static shocks climbing up his arms and the body felt like an electric blanket when it draped itself around Spencer's neck.

When he got home and realized his mother was having a bad day, he holed himself up in his room, and the small creature was still there, perched on his knees as he sobbed. When the tears dried and his hysteria had reduced to hiccups, he looked at the little thing.

"H-hello. My name is Spencer. What's yours?"

It tilted its head almost as if in askance.

"You don't have one?"

The little rodent head shook vigorously.

"Are you male or female? I can help you find one."

The little thing tapped a paw to Spencer's leg.

"You're a boy?"He nodded and chittered a bit."Okay!" The twelve-year old genius thought hard about all the names he knew. There were a lot. "Albert? Albert Einstein is kind of my hero. He was a genius like I was. No? Hm. Thor? Norse god of thunder and lightning. He's also their fertility god, but I'm not sure you want to be known like that. Well, you do seem to be a rode-Ow!" Rubbing the shocked knee with a finger-and most definitely not pouting-Spencer hummed in thought. "Well, you did save me, and your fur is quite nice. The name Finian means 'handsome warrior.'"

The little weird rodent zipped up to Spencer's neck and rubbed his head on the boy's cheek, his body sparking furiously. "Is that a yes?" There was more excited chittering. "Okay! Finian it is. Fin."

That night, Finian slept curled into a ball on Spencer's pillow next to his head. Occasionally, he gave off little blue sparks that fizzled around the room like periodic fireflies. It was comforting; Spencer never did like the dark.

The years passed as they had before, with the exception that Fin was almost always at his side. He had discovered the small rodent was a Raijū, a mythical creature whose origins began in Japan. They could come in different forms, badgers, weasels, cats, or foxes, with the occasional monkey or wolf thrown in the mix. Spencer wasn't sure if Fin could transform between forms; he'd not received an answer when he'd asked. He was a fairly tame creature, but he preferred to be outside during any storm that involved rain. The bigger the storm the happier, the zippy ferret was when he came back inside.

Normal people didn't seem to see Fin unless the creature wished it. When they did, it seemed that all they saw was just a normal albino ferret. Even the odd people, the people Spencer didn't want to see, saw the same.

Until one didn't.

It was a normal day during one of the odd summers that Spencer spent in Pasadena, rather than Vegas. He was in the park, and if anyone looked over at him, it would seem that he was playing himself. Really, Finian was sitting in his vest pocket, moving chess pieces with a little blue-nailed paw.

The mythical rodent was no Bobby Fischer, but every once in a while, he pulled a move that stumped Spencer, even after these seven years together. Spencer was contemplating on such move now.

As he was reaching out to move a piece, Fin zipped from his pocket, onto his outstretched hand and stood there, tail swishing, staring at something.

"Fin? What is it?" The little guy couldn't talk, but he had ways of getting his point across.

Fin chittered a little bit and his fur sparked like it did when he was excited or angry, his tail wrapped around Spencer's wrist.

Spencer wondered what riled him. "Show me, Finian."

The hair on Spencer's arm stood up and his skin stung as Fin Flashed. When Spencer was thirteen, he found that Fin had an ability to travel by expanding his body into electricity and moving like light. For lack of a better term, the boy had called it Flashing.

He didn't go far, just to the bench five yards away. Follow the leader it is.

It went that way for a few minutes, leading into a small wooded area about half about a hundred years away. Once Spencer passed the tree line, he started to hear a woman shouting and Fin disappeared. He walked a little faster. He wasn't a physical man, by any means but he couldn't leave someone in need. What he saw when he found her was definitely not what he was expecting.

She was being attacked...by Feylettes? He was momentarily stunned into inaction. Her hair was a long, thin, dirty blonde color that whirled around her head as she spun to yank the strands out of spindly, luminescent fingers. One arm swatted at the motley of Fey grabbing at her, and the other was outstretched, the hand it held was glowing a soft purple that sparked and spat embers reminiscent of a driftwood fire. The shine coming from her hands also surrounded a floating messenger bag.

Which was not actually floating, when Spencer looked at it. It was in the rangy hands of two Feylettes, a blue and a green one.

Feylettes were tiny people, with shimmering, translucent wings that varied in shape like a human's fingerprints. No two Spencer had ever seen were the same. They were drawn to all aspects of nature, plants, fire, water, and rock, namely; they also varied in colors, neutrals, rainbow, and shades.

They were also incredibly mischievous and loved all things sweet and all things shiny.

Spencer idly wondered why they decided to pick on this girl. After a moment of confounded observation, he saw Fin on her shoulder jumping at the Fey that got too close, bounding off of them and back onto her shoulder, knocking them out of the air. His fur sparked furiously, and Spencer could hear a rumbling growl, like the quiet roiling of distant thunder.

The mysterious victim shouted some more in a language Spencer was sure he had never heard before. He was startled when Finian Flashed onto his shoulder and nipped his ear hard enough to sting and left again. "Ah! Okay, sorry." He hurried forward, stumbling a little on a stick here and there. He dug around in his own messenger bag, and finally felt cool plastic.

He whistled a small, sweet tune, having to repeat it a few times to cut through the pandemonium. When Spencer felt he had a sufficient attention from the gang of other-worldly miscreants, he held the palm-sized vial up in the air to show off its contents and promptly poured the sugar out onto a clear patch of dirt.

The Feylettes seemed to vibrate for a moment of indecision, before angrily releasing both bag and hair, before flying to the forest floor to pick up the minuscule crystals. While they were muttering furious unintelligible things in their bell-like voices, Spencer counted five in all.

Stepping back, pleased with his intervention, he waved at the disheveled girl who was steadily catching her breath. There was a bit of an awkward pause. "Hello."

"Hey. Thanks."

"We, uh, should probably get out of here. This won't take them terribly long." He fidgeted with the strap of his bag, while she picked up her own.

"Yeah, yeah. That's probably a good idea." The two hurried back down the path that Spencer had come through. On the way back, Fin jumped from her shoulder to his old friend's. She startled a bit and looked at the mythical creature.

To Spencer's surprise, she stopped walking to face Fin, and spoke something in Japanese as she bowed, a deep formal bow. Only shocking him further, Finian bowed back.

"You speak Japanese?"

"Nope."

What? "Then how-"

"It's, uh, it's a thing. I don't just see Other-Planers, I've got the ability to speak with them, as well."

"That's...that has to come in handy." He said slowly, his brain already churning out questions. "How does it work? Can you still speak them when there aren't any creatures around? Do they have their own languages or does it work based on the background lore's country of origin? Does it sound like English to you or does it just translate in your mind?"

Spencer seemed to run out of steam, as he realized she was buying her lip, looking like she was trying to keep from laughing.

Oh.

"Hey, no! Don't look sad! I'm sorry. I just didn't- That was-" she grunted in frustration, her round cheeks red. "I'm sorry, dude. I didn't mean to offend you. The flood of questions, it was just a little funny to me. Not bad funny! Just a, " her hands floundered for a few seconds, "cute funny."

"Oh. Thank you?" He fiddled with his bag strap, and Fin slipped down to curl up in his shirt pocket again. They started walking once more.

"I think that's my line. Seriously, thank you. For helping me with them, I mean. It was a neat trick." Brown eyes met brown eyes, "Normally, I don't have a problem with Other-Planers, but I made the mistake of stepping into a fairy ring. Kinda paints a target on your back. I'm Bryanna, with a y. Bryanna Thomas." Her hand held out to shake.

He just stared for a moment before realizing that he should reply. "Spencer. Spencer Reid." He repeated his earlier wave. "Other-Planers? You've said it a few times."

The outstretched hand retreated to brushing through her hair. "Yeah. That's what I call them. It looks like they mostly reside on another plane of existence. Sometimes, theure on ours, but you need a certain amount of oomph-that's a technical term, by the way-to see what they really look like. Since you can see them and you have this guy as a permanent ornament, I'm assuming that I can trust you not to tell anyone about this?"

Spencer merely nodded, still attempting to process what had happened in the last fifteen minutes. Someone beside he and his mother could see them.

She can see them. We're-I'm not alone? I'm not delusional?

"Yes, of course." Then as an after-thought, "Can you imagine anyone believing me anyways?" There was a bit of a laugh from them both.

"Yeah, that's fair." They reached the table that Spencer had left his chess set at, and there was a bit of a lull. "Listen, I've got to get to work; I'm running late thanks to those damned things. But, can I-can I give you my mobile number? I've never met anyone that can see them too."

"Please do!" He spoke hastily, before realizing how that must sound. "I mean, I haven't either, and it would be nice to, uh, speak to someone else about it." Internally cursing as his face heated, he dug in his bag for a pen.

As he searched for paper, his spare hand was grabbed and he blushed again as she wrote her number and name on the ticklish skin of his wrist in a loopy, semi-cursive scrawl.

"There. Call me sometime, Penny."