"Campbell residence, Ethan speaking."

"Ethan, it's Spencer." The young agent said sipping his coffee and looking around his apartment. He truly hated talking on the phone, it made him feel as if he were talking to thin air the whole time. That is why he preferred hand written sentiments.

"Spencer! It's been a while, did you get the invitation?"

"Yes I got it, but I was wondering, why the short notice?" He asked, running a hand through his hair and grinning slightly at the sound of his old friend's voice. It had been a while, and that was exactly why Spencer was going to the wedding. If he died on a case or something happened to Ethan, his last interactions with the man should be pleasant and not Ethan chastising him for lying to his team.

"To give you less time to think your way out of it."

The man replied without missing a beat, making Spencer smile. There was always a certain carefree attitude that Ethan had while talking to anyone, even though he held wisdom far beyond his years. "Well, it worked. I'll be there."

"Great, can't wait for you to meet the future Mrs., oh, and you'll have to take a dance class."

"Wait, what?" Spencer asked, leaning forward in his chair. He would not take a dance class. No chance at all.

"Kat wants everyone on my side to take a dance class so... you're screwed man. She said something about me making friends with people who had two left feet. I can't blame her, she's seen me dance."

Spencer was far from a bad dancer, but that did not mean he was an expert. After all, the only dance he knows how to do is a simple four step slow dance, and sometimes he forgot where to go next. "I'm not taking a dance class, Ethan."

"Yes you are, Genius Boy. It's not negotiable. So stop your pouting, put on some dance shoes, and get your ass on a plane before I get you here myself."

Spencer rolled his eyes in exasperation, same old Ethan. "Well, do you at least know who's teaching the class? I don't want to learn how to dance from someone who will only make me look like an idiot."

"I highly doubt that anyone could make you look like that. But yeah, his name is Sander Mason, one of Kat's friends and he works cheap."

"Sander? That's a weird name." Spencer said, he honestly thought that the dance teacher would have an alias that sounded as if someone had wasted too much time on and thought they sounded clever.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I asked Kat what the deal was with this guy but all she said was that he has a hard time staying in one place for long."

"So he's a drifter? How old is he?" Spencer asked, already piecing together an unintentional profile for the dance teacher.

"Yeah, and he's twenty-eight. Real good friend though, every time we had a fight she'd call him up and cry to him. If he was in the area he'd come over and help her through it before coming over to my place and getting my side of the story before helping us work it out."

"Sounds like you found a future marriage counselor." The agent remarked, more pieces of the puzzle coming together. Late twenties, good with people, able to compartmentalize and use that to help others. A good friend, dancer, and he possibly has no family, hence being a drifter.

"Definitely, we won't waste money on some shrink when we have our own. Anyway, I have to get going, some more wedding preparations that need me."

"See you in a couple days, Ethan." Spencer said before standing and stretching, getting ready for bed after the twenty minute conversation. The young agent quickly collapsed into bed, letting his mind wander to the impending wedding and the people that might be there. His thoughts also brought him to the dance teacher.

He despised shaking hands with someone he just met, how could he dance with someone he didn't even know? Spencer just sighed before letting himself fall asleep. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

New Orleans, Louisiana

"Sander, you're coming to this wedding even if I have to drag your sorry ass here myself." A young brunette woman with green eyes says, talking into her cellphone and watching her soon-to-be husband talking with an old friend on the house phone.

"Kat, I'm not sure if I can make it. I'm all the way in New York, how the hell am I supposed to be there in two days?"

"Maybe if you lived with me you wouldn't have this problem." The woman, Kat, says into the phone, glaring at the counter top.

"Kitty, we've went over this, staying in one place means that I might see him again, and I can't have that happen. Especially near someone I care about."

"San, you can't keep this irrational fear that your father will find you wherever you go. It's going to kill you!" The woman says, all thoughts about the wedding forgotten.

"That man is not my father, not now, not ever."

"Alright alright, just- Try to make it Sander. It would mean a lot to me and I know how much you like dancing, you'll be able to teach Ethan's family how to dance." The young woman snickered into the phone, hearing her friend's breathy laugh over the phone.

"Agh! I can practically feel the puppy eyes- I'll try, but don't kill me if I'm late."

"No promises Sander, just don't drive straight here okay? Get some rest before you make the trip." She says worried, just as her fiance hangs up the phone and writes down the name of whoever just RSVP'd.

"No worries Mother, I'll be fine."

She rolls her eyes at his sarcasm before replying with, "goodbye Sandy, now get some rest."

"Yeah yeah, see you in a couple days. And don't call me that!"

She hangs up the phone before turning to her fiancé, "who called?"

"An old friend of mine, Dr. Spencer Reid, works with the FBI, said he'd come down for the wedding." Ethan says, wrapping his arms around his wife and yawning, "damn this wedding stuff is hard."

"Yes, it is, but it'll be worth it. I called Sander and I talked him into coming down in order to teach your relatives how to move next to a human being without breaking something." She says with a tired smile, remembering when they moved into this house, his dad dropped the table. the table was fine, but his dad broke his damn leg.

"You're hilarious. Good thing he could come, I just told my friend he'd have to take a dance class before the wedding, and I just happened to mention Sander's name." Ethan said, kissing his fiancé before asking, "I'm dead on my feet, bedtime?"

"Hell yes, if I have to answer another phone in the next four hours I'll rip my hair out."

"That would not be good." Ethan nodded, grinning before throwing his fiancé on his shoulder and bringing her to the bedroom for some well deserved rest.

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