Spencer held the test tubes up to the chart and recorded their relative colors in the small journal he kept for that purpose. After he was satisfied the pool was properly chlorinated, he pulled off his shirt, stepped out of his flip-flops, and dove in.

He was always thankful to be alone when he did the part- the diving in. He knew he did it rather artlessly, as was the case with any athletic activity he undertook. But their brief trip to the islands had reawoken in him a love for swimming he'd once known as a child. It was excellent cardiovascular exercise, of course, but that wasn't entirely why he did it. He did it because of the solitude it provided. The auditory and visual sensory deprivation it provided was relaxing and refreshing to his very core. He made a conscious effort not to count the number of laps he swam; he simply exercised until he felt tired and relaxed, then got out.

He toweled off and went back in the house to shower. He hummed happily to himself as he bathed, then turned off the water and grabbed a fresh towel. He was stepping out of the shower when he drew the towel away from his face and cried out in alarm. Even without his glasses, as myopic as he was, he could nevertheless make out the mass of red atop the pale-complected, green-clad figure that was sitting on the bathroom counter. He even thought he could make out the smirk he knew had to be on her face at that moment.

He quickly recovered from his shock, wrapped the towel about his waist and reached for his glasses. "What on earth are you doing here?" he asked testily. "Aren't you supposed to be out shopping with the girls?"

"I was," she replied. Now that he had his glasses on, he could indeed see the self-satisfied smirk on her face. As angry as he was at being caught off-guard and embarrassed in the nude, he found himself smiling back at her. He always found it impossible to stay mad at her when she had that impish, playful look on her face.

"So what did you do this time to make them give up on you so quickly? Did you even make it to the store before they threw you out of the car?"

"Nope. We went to a yard sale instead."

"Fantastic. So what junk- I'm sorry, treasure- did you bring home with you this time?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Everything I buy at yard sales is a treasure. Same goes for flea markets and thrift stores. But this time I also happened to bring home a dress."

"Wait- you mean a wedding dress?"

"Yep." She grinned broadly.

"A wedding dress. For our wedding?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Not at all."

"And Garcia...what? She let you do that?"

"I don't know what choice she had. I am the bride, after all. Got a killer deal on it, too."

"I can only imagine."

"She told me she'd sell it to me for $25, and I told her I'd give her $500 and not a penny more."

He laughed and leaned against the counter. "You drive a hard bargain, dear."

"I know, right? Hey- it was her mother's wedding dress from 1952. I felt like I was stealing a family heirloom as it was, but she insisted she'd rather know it was being put to good use than stuffed away in a box gathering dust, so...I've got a dress."

"And I suppose I still can't see it, huh? I'm actually rather curious now…""

"Well, tough shit- you still can't see it. I thought a man who can't wear matching socks for fear of turning his ankle would understand that it's simply bad luck. Suffice it to say that it's not trashy, gaudy nor princessy. It's simple and cute, and I think it's lovely. That's all you need to know."

He leaned in a little closer to her. "Then it sounds perfect. Beautiful and unpretentious- just like you." He smiled at her for a long moment until his gaze shifted to her own smile. Suddenly, her lips looked irresistibly soft and sweet, and he gave her a long, slow kiss.

She laid her arms around his neck and blushed as she smiled at him. "This is actually happening, you know. There's no turning back now."

"Baby doll," he said softly as he moved to put his arms around her waist, "I've always known this was happening. The only fear I've ever had is that you would try and turn back."

She breathed deeply and raised her eyebrows. "Well, it's almost too late for that now, isn't it."

He nodded and kissed her again. "Yes," he murmured. "I'm not going to let you get away so easily now."

She giggled as he pulled her closer to the edge of the counter. "Careful," she warned playfully. "I'm gonna fall off. Speaking of falling off…what on earth is keeping this towel up, hmm?" She ran her fingers down from his belly and smiled. "Ah…mystery solved! I was wondering how you were holding this up, what with you having no hips and all. That's rather impressive, Sparky!"

"Oh?" he asked with a grin. "You think that's impressive? C'mere- I'll show you something truly impressive!" He moved his hands under her bottom and lifted her off the counter.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him nervously, saying, "Whoa, hey! Careful, now- Spencer! You're going to throw out your back!"

He laughed at her. "I'm not going to throw out my back!"

"Careful! I swear to God, Spencer Reid," she warned as he tried to maneuver the both of them out of the bathroom, "if you drop me, so help me God…ow! Hey!"

"What? What just happened?"

"I hit my funny bone on the door frame!"

"You hit your ulnar nerve?"

"That's what I just said, dork! Oh God, oh God! Be careful, Spencer! Don't hit me on something else, now!"

"I've got you, just hold still and-" Just then he stubbed his foot against the base of the bed and tumbled down on the bed on top of her.

"Ooof! Can't…breathe…think…you broke…my ribs!"

"No need to be so dramatic," he said, rather crestfallen. "We didn't land that hard- you are okay, aren't you?"

She laughed. "Yes, I think I'm still intact. What brought that on?"

"It seemed like something lovers might do in a movie- you know, I sweep you off your feet and carry you off to bed to ravish you…so much for trying to be daring and dashing and romantic…"

"Come here, you big, goofy sweetheart," she said, reaching up to draw him down for a kiss. "In case you haven't noticed, we live in real life, not in a TV set. And I love you precisely because I know you're not perfect. I find all your weirdness positively charming." She kissed him again and scooted over to make room for him on the bed. "Although," she said after several moments, "you know, if you want to try something adventurous and a little naughty, we could go do it somewhere else. We could run down to Alex's room and do it on her bed…"

"What? No. Oh God…how would we explain that- you know…the stains…?"

"Eh, she and Grant have probably dirtied up that bedspread already!"

"Oh, then definitely no!"

"Well, we've already done it in the parlor and library…how about the kitchen?"

He shook his head. "I eat there."

"The hot tub?"

"No. I soak there!"

She pouted for a moment. "The car?"

"Too cramped."

"The van?"

"It's too hot out. We'd have to run it for the A/C, but it's in the garage and the carbon monoxide from the exhaust could poison us."

"Are you saying sex with me isn't worth dying for?" She pouted again.

He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her. "Not at all. Sex with you is my favorite thing to live for, dear!" He sat up and look down at her, stroking her leg. After several seconds he said softly, "Christine, I love you very much."

"I love you, too!"

As she lay there, she lightly ran her fingers up his thighs to his groin, until they came to rest on his penis. He breathed in sharply when her hand squeezed him gently, and he proceeded to ease her shorts and panties over her hips and down her legs before tossing them aside. As he did so, she wriggled out of her t-shirt. He bent over to kiss her and fumbled briefly with her bra before finally successfully unhooking it and drawing it off her. He sat back and looked down at her again. She was smiling back at him as she yawned a little and folded one arm back behind her head. He closed his eyes for the briefest moment, hoping to fix in his mind forever the image of her and what he felt at this moment- this quiet, warm, lazy summer afternoon as his heart felt so full of joy and hope and promise that this beautiful young woman was soon to be his, officially, forever and for all time.

He opened his eyes again and smiled back at her before bending down first to kiss one perfect, pink nipple and then the other, thrilling at the sound of her happy little gasps and sighs as he did so. He laid down beside her to embrace and caress her, and lifted her smooth, bare leg up to his waist. His hand found the small of her back and pressed her to himself; she gave a soft moan of anticipation when she felt him pressing against her belly. He knew from experience that if he waited to take her until she was begging- almost demanding- it, that he could bring her to climax almost immediately. When she was kissing his neck and grabbing at him needily, he knew she was ready. He pushed her onto her back and thrust into her so that she cried out loudly. A moment later he was not disappointed, as her screams and helpless kicking confirmed he'd driven her to orgasm. After several long seconds her voice faded off into happy moans as her hands loosened their grip on him and wandered up and down his body.

He lifted himself up on his arms and smiled down at her. "Happy?" he asked softly.

She nodded as he bent down to kiss her forehead. "Are you?"

"I will be," he breathed, leaning in again to kiss her cheek. He found one of her hands, grasped it in his and stretched it up over her head, while with the other hand he lifted her thigh up until her knee was pressed back, nearly to her chest. Panting, he drove himself into her faster and faster.

"Harder, Spencer," she moaned. "Hurry now! Harder…!"

He obeyed with complete abandon, feeling the electricity rising within his body, growing at the edges of his mind until it had nearly blinded him to everything else that was happening.

"Hurry…" she gasped.

Suddenly her back arched and she writhed within his tight grasp. The sensation of her body, her every muscle, contracting around his own was more than he could endure any longer. He buried his face in the pillow beside her head and surrendered with a shout that slowly trailed off into a satiated moan as the waves of pleasure that had so suddenly crashed down on him subsided. At length he sighed and rolled over onto his back, still holding her hand in his. He brought it up to his lips and gently kissed her fingertips before holding her hand against his chest.

He closed his eyes and smiled. It was mid-day, still, and the afternoon breeze coming softly through the windows felt delicious on his damp, bare skin. If there could be a more perfect moment than this, he couldn't think of it- lying there, naked and perfectly satisfied, beside the woman he loved, the beautiful creature who in a few short months would be his bride. His thoughts drifted to daydreams of their wedding day, of visions of her in her bridal gown and radiant, floating toward him, one hand on her father's arm, the other full of-

His eyes flew open and his sat up. "Shit!" he cried. "The flowers!"

"What?" She sat up beside him, curious and bemused- it wasn't often she got to hear him curse.

He was already getting out of bed and heading for the closet. "The florist! I'm supposed to meet the florist this afternoon!"

She followed him and found him pulling on his underpants and grabbing clothes off hangers. He reached into a drawer for some socks, found two pairs Alex had folded and took one from each pair. "Hand me some panties," she said. I'm going with you."

"Huh?"

"Underwear. I need it. I'd prefer not to go commando today."

"You're going with?" he asked as he buttoned up his shirt. "But why? I thought you hated this stuff. I can handle it…"

"Leave the tie off. It's kinda overkill if we're just going to buy some flowers, donchya think?"

"Fine," he said, putting the tie back. "I'll look like a slob if you wish. That'll fit perfectly, considering how late I'm going to be." He walked past her to sit on the bed and pull on his socks.

"What time was the appointment?"

"In 18 minutes."

"Oh, for Christ's sake, it's only a 20 minute drive- 15, the way you drive. We've got plenty of time."

He pulled on his shoes. "Don't bother," he said, as he saw her pulling on her shorts. "We don't have time. I'm ready. I'll go alone."

"Unbunch your man-panties, Sparky. I'm coming with. Flowers are something I actually care about. That, and making your life difficult. I live for that."

"No doubt," he said with a sigh as he watched her wriggle into an old t-shirt and step into flip-flops.

"Ready!" she announced, holding out her hands.

"You're going like that?"

"Dude, they're not going to refuse to sell us hundreds of dollars worth of flowers just because I didn't dress up. Chill! And we're not taking your Volvo, by the way."

"Why on earth not?"

"It's not nearly cool enough for me to be seen in. We'll take the Mustang. But you're driving. I'm kinda sleepy."

As they walked out the door he said, "You're sleepy? As I recall, I did all the work just now."

"Aw, it's cute that you think so. You're still driving."

"Fine. Whatever. Just get in the car." He moved his hand to put it in gear and looked up as her hand came to rest on his.

"What? I like being with you," she said, closing her eyes and leaning back with a smile.

He smiled and squeezed her hand before pulling out of the drive.

"Well, that was fun!" Christine proclaimed as they walked in the door.

"You just like getting things for free," Spencer replied, taking off his shoes.

"That too," she said. "Where's Alex keep the vases?"

"In the cabinet in the dining room, where they've always been."

He followed her from there into the kitchen as she went to trim the flowers and fill the vases she'd chosen. "Awful nice of them to just give these too me…" she commented.

"Not to mention upgrading our flowers for free."

"And do you recall why they did that?"

"Because they said they've never had a bride who was so easy to deal with."

"Easy to deal with, Sparky. Ha! And you thought I'd just go and muck things up for you. So much for being a know-it-all. Turns out, if you respect their profession enough to tell them to just do whatever they think is best, they like you and offer you full-size roses for the price of the baby ones. And tulips to bring home, to boot," she added, tapping him on the chest with one of the blooms.

"Well, just this once I'll concede you were right," he said with a chuckle. "But when you're done with that, I'd like your input on another matter."

"What's that?"

"I've got everything in the library…"

"Okay," she said, drying off her hands. "Show me."

In the library, he sat down at his desk and pulled a box from a drawer. "We have to decide on our invitations, and soon. Here are my favorites as far as the design, paper and font, but we still have to decide on wording. Do we go with the traditional, "The honor of your presence is requested…" or something more modern? And would you rather have your parents listed as Dr. and Mrs. Paul Archangeli or Dr. Paul and Mrs. Marie Archangeli?"

She felt each sample invitation in her hands, thinking for a moment. "I think," she said without looking up, "I think I like this card best. It looks simple. Clean. Now, as for the wording, I'd like it to say something along the lines of 'Dr. Paul and Mrs. Marie Archangeli, together with Mr. William Reid and Dr. Diana Reid, warmly invite you…'. Something like that. I think that's how you handle it, anyway, when you're referring to a couple that's no longer married yet still shares a name…what is it?" she asked, looking up. "I believe that's proper etiquette. Or should her name be mentioned before his? What do you think?"

Spencer's face was set hard as stone. "I think that man's name should not be mentioned on my wedding invitation. He won't be there in person, and I don't want him there nominally, either. That's what I think."

"Aren't you even going to invite him?" Christine asked quietly.

"How could I? I don't even know his address."

"I, um…I have it. If you want it…"

"What? How could you possibly know that?"

"Well, you have your sources and I have…well, it turns out Joe's not as dumb as he looks, so I asked him-"

"You asked him? To find my father?"

"Sure. I new you didn't have his address so I-"

Spencer stood up behind his desk, has hands firmly planted on the top of it to keep them from shaking with the rage he felt rising inside him. "Christine, you had no right to try and find him!"

"I just thought…"

"He is my father, not yours- it was not your place to make this decision!"

"Not my place? Excuse me, but he's about to become my father-in-law, and since we're all going to be family, it seemed…"

"We're all about to become nothing! He's not my family- not anymore! All he is is the man who used to be married to my mother and who then sent us child support for a few years. That does not make him my family, and frankly I resent you interfering in this matter, Christine. That was out of line!" He began to pace furiously about the room. "Why is it, do you suppose, that since the day he left her never once bothered to contact me- not once! Never did he give any indication that he remembered or cared that he still had a child in this world. What sort of man does such a thing? You know, I've often wondered why that was. I know I must have been some kind of disappointment to him. I was odd and awkward and clumsy. He always wanted ours to be a normal family. Instead he wound up with a mentally ill wife and a freak of a child. Do you suppose he remarried, and maybe…maybe he had another kid- one that was normal enough for him to love? Is that why he never bothered to even call me? I mean, what was it about me, Chris? What? Wait…what are you doing?" he said, squirming suddenly as she moved to put her arms around him.

"Shhh," she said. "Settle down and let me hug you…"

"I'm a grown man, Christine. I don't need you to hug me to make my boo-boos all better…"

"Stop fighting it, and yes, you do. Come here," she said, with tears in her eyes. "You need this. I know you. You couldn't possibly hate this man this much if you didn't desperately want to love him."

He finally gave in, accepted the gesture and began to sob. "How…how could I have been that much of a disappointment, Chris? How?"

"You weren't."

"But then why-"

"Shhhh…I don't know. Sometimes things go on between adults that their kids never understand. It wasn't about you."

"But I'm the one he forgot, Chris! Even if he stopped loving Mom…how could he stop loving me?"

She stroked his hair. "I'm so sorry, Sparky. This is all my fault. I thought this would be a good chance for you two to reunite, but I was stupid and I was wrong and I'm sorry. You're right. It wasn't my place to make that decision, and this is not the right time to deal with any of this. I'm so sorry, Spencer."

"You know, every time you complain about your family, all I ever think about is how lucky you are to have them. They may not be perfect, but at least they're there…you have no idea how it hurts to feel forgotten."

As she held him, she whispered in his ear, "All that's changing now. You and I, we're going to be our own family now. And I promise you, I will never let you feel unwanted, unloved or forgotten. Never."

He clung to her, kissed her head, and nodded.