Disclaimer: See chapter 1

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Reid's lips moved from the suppleness of Phoebe's to her earlobe and down her neck, his nimble fingers made short work of the buttons of her blouse and he parted the deep blue silk fabric revealing the flawless smooth skin beneath. His mouth once again tracked downward until he reached the soft mounds hidden by gossamer black lace. He undid the bra clasp eliciting a moan of ecstasy from Phoebe as her breasts were released from their confinement and his hand gently cupped one, massaging it with his long fingers, while his mouth feathered the other with soft kisses until he found the nipple and slid softly over the hard center with his tongue. Phoebe threw back her head, moaning and shuddering in response. As he gently teased he could feel her body shake next to his own. His own body began to shake as well, almost like he had no control over it.

"Spencer, wake up," Fletcher said loudly in Reid's ear as he shook the man.

"What?" Reid said sleepily and a little irritably at being woken from the middle of a dream starring the lovely Phoebe.

"You were late getting in last night," Fletcher said while perching himself on the ottoman in front of the sofa.

"I wasn't aware that I had a curfew," Reid muttered into his pillow.

"Well, you don't. I suppose you were with Phoebe," he said the woman's name in a sing song voice.

Reid raised his head, resting it on his hand. "Can't put anything over on you can I?" he said feeling he might as well get this over with now. "What if I was?"

"Hey," the boy raised his hands in a defensive gesture, "I'm not saying anything but since you got home late, you must have made up, right?" He began to sing softly, "Spencer and Phoebe sittin' in a tree…" but stopped abruptly when Reid's pillow hit him on the head.

Theresa chose that moment to walk into the room. She stopped and put her hands on her hips. "Is that all the two of you can do, play games like children?"

"Technically Theresa, I am a child and Spencer's just enjoying some of the things he didn't get to do in his misspent youth," Fletcher said as he threw the pillow back at Reid.

"Yeah," Reid agreed.

"And you have to do this right now?"

Reid looked at Fletcher in confusion over Theresa's attitude. Had something happened while he was in dreamland? He hadn't blurted out Phoebe's name had he? "She's freaking out over the dinner party," the child explained.

Reid was momentarily relieved to hear that. "Why Theresa, you're a terrific cook? Everything will be great, I'm sure." Reid tried to assure the woman.

"It is not my cooking I am concerned about. Have you looked at your kitchen lately?"

Reid figured there was more than the obvious to this question and by the look on Theresa's face; he somehow felt there was no right answer. "Not in the last week," he replied, "you wouldn't let me in there except to do the dishes."

"It is the dishes that I am talking about. You hardly have any and the ones that you have, they do not match. How can I feed ten people when you do not even have ten plates? Where did you get those dishes anyway?"

"Well, I kind of picked most of them up at yard sales when I was in college. I didn't have a lot of money and there was only me so I didn't need much. I never have dinner parties. I mean, Morgan comes over once in a while and we have beer and pizza but we usually drink out of the bottles and just eat out of the box."

"How am I going to serve gazpacho for ten without a soup tureen?" Theresa began to pace.

"A soup tureen," Reid repeated as if he'd never heard the word before. "What would I be doing with a soup tureen? I think my mother used to have one but I pretty much sold all that stuff in my own yard sale when I left Las Vegas so I would have some money for expenses when I was at college."

"That is too bad because now we need one. There is only one answer. You must go on the computer for one of the department stores and I will pick out what you need to get and you must go and get it."

"Me!" Reid sat bolt upright. "I don't know anything about that kind of thing."

"I will send you with a note like a child if I must. You are a genius. I think you will be able to handle it," Theresa said as she turned toward the kitchen.

Reid stood and began to fold up his sheets and store them in the ottoman. "Why don't you come with me and you can choose what you want?"

"I cannot do that. I have beef to marinate and a cake to make. I must make preparating. Could you please do this for me?" Her eyes pleaded.

Reid opened his mouth to correct Theresa's English when Fletcher whispered through gritted teeth, "Don't argue with her when she's like this. She's got that hot Latin blood and when she blows, trust me, she blows."

"Okay, I'll get what you need and I'll take Fletcher with me so I can find out what kind of things he'd like for his room. That way I can get it redone while he's at school." Reid and Fletcher high fived each other.

"Gracias Spencer."

"No problem but first I need to go to the bathroom and have some coffee," Reid said as he headed for the hallway. Theresa poured some coffee, setting it on the island with a spoon and the sugar bowl.

After looking at pictures on the net and getting instructions from Theresa about what she needed, Reid and Fletcher got into his Volvo. As soon as Reid closed the door he took out his cell and punched in a number. "Good morning," Fletcher heard him say. "Would you like to go shopping?"

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Three pairs of eyes stared at the selection of dishes. "Theresa liked these," Reid pointed to ivory colored dishes with a large pink rose in the middle and smaller roses around the edge.

"They're very nice but I don't quite think they're quite you," Phoebe said. "Let's face it; you're a guy living alone." Fletcher cleared his throat. "Okay, living alone part of the time, sorry Fletcher. I figure you guys would like something more like this," she pointed to a black plate with silver and gold leaves around the edge.

"That would go nice with your black table," Fletcher interjected.

"You also said Theresa is going to be gone on Monday so who's going to be living with it, you or her?" Phoebe added.

Reid had to admit to himself that Phoebe was absolutely right. He did like the black. "Okay, you're right; I'll get the black. I guess it's time to get new dishes anyway. I don't suppose you'd like to come to dinner?" he asked.

"No," Phoebe replied, "as much as I'd like to meet the rest of the team, this is Theresa's party to say thank you. I'd be totally out of place. I'd love to come another night though."

"Yeah," Reid said as he started to load the box of black dishes into the shopping cart complete with extra platters and the all important soup tureen, "but another night you wouldn't be treated to Theresa's cooking. I can't cook like her."

"That's okay," she winked at Reid as she whispered; "I really wouldn't be coming for the cooking."

"I heard that," Fletcher said as both Spencer and Phoebe turned pink.

"Okaaay then," Phoebe turned away from Reid. "What's next, cutlery, candles, a tablecloth, napkins…?"