Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.

There are many things in life that will catch your eye, but only a few will catch your heart… pursue those. – Michael Nolan

o o o o

3 January, 2011

CALLIOPE SELLERS GETS ENGAGED

By Katie McCullough

January 03, 2011

It's confirmed! After eight days of speculation, we are happy to announce that Virginian royalty Calliope Sellers of the historical Sellers family that has owned the Dahlia Plantation in Williamsburg, VA since 1694 is indeed engaged to her boyfriend of two years, FBI Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid. The two were spending Christmas Eve together at their home in Fredericksburg, VA when Dr. Reid surprised his sweetheart by slipping an antique Art Deco engagement ring (picture inset) into the Scrabble tile bag while she fixed coffee.

"She said yes so many times and so loudly that Perses jumped off the couch and started barking at us," Reid is overheard telling his friend and coworker SSA Derek Morgan on Wednesday. For those out of the know, Perses is the couples' one year-old Bernese Mountain Dog named after the Greek mythological Titan of Destruction.

It isn't yet known if Reid, 29, and Sellers, 28, who met in July of 2008 at The Hobbit Hole in Fredericksburg, have set a wedding date. "I feel like I'm floating on air," she tells her friend Jillian Ackerman, a beaming smile spread across her face.

Recitation at First Sight

When Sellers, a reputable artist, businesswoman, and sole heir to the Sellers' family fortune, met Reid two years ago, she admits she was initially attracted to him because he was the first person to pick up her favorite book, Homers' The Odyssey, in two months. After an unexpected recitation of a portion of The Odyssey and a half hour of banter, Sellers left without telling Reid her name. It was Reid who avidly pursued Sellers, returning to The Hobbit Hole every day he wasn't with the BAU, Behavioral Analysis Unit, on a case until he saw her again, immediately taking her out on a date to a local hamburger joint in town.

Reid asked her to marry him after having permission from Sellers' grandfather for just under a year. "So that's why you've been so nervous the past two weeks," Morgan teases Reid on the subway. "It's a good thing you asked her already or we'd never solve another case."

"His mother (Diana Reid) and I have met Calliope and are very happy to welcome her as Spencers' wife," William Reid, Dr. Reid's father, tells PEOPLE over the phone from Reid's childhood home of Las Vegas, NV. "She is a lovely girl," says Diana Reid. "Just like the muse she's named for."

Sellers' grandfather, Dr. Benjamin Sellers, has only high praise for the couple, telling PEOPLE that Reid's exactly what he wanted his little girl to find. "Spencer and Callie are brilliant together. They compliment each other in every aspect. And neither one of them is afraid to tell the other when they're being a moron. That's the making of a good marriage."

Derek looked up from the glossy magazine he'd grabbed at the stand outside of Starbucks before coming to work and grinned. Spencer was standing over in the kitchenette pouring sugar into his coffee, completely oblivious to the fact that he was, once again, on the cover of People magazine. Well, not technically – Calliope was inset on the front of the magazine next to a small teaser, but Spencer wasn't pictured until the page inside the magazine.

"Hey, Loverboy." Derek called in a sign-song voice.

"What?" Spencer didn't look up from stirring his coffee.

"Your happy news finally made it's way into the rags."

"I know. I saw them at the train station. Star thinks Calliope's pregnant. OK! leaked a draft of the prenuptial agreement. US Weekly's decided that Carrie Underwood is going to be Calliope's maid of honour. And Globe's decided we were abducted by aliens and want Oprah to visit their planet in exchange for our safe return to Earth."

"I hope Oprah pays up." Emily quipped as she sat down at the desk across from Spencer's.

"Cal's making you sign a prenup?" Derek asked, surprised. "That doesn't sound like Cal."

"We've been engaged less than two weeks. We haven't even talked about it yet. I'm sure the lawyers are already thinking about it, but we haven't talked about it."

"Are you gonna sign it?"

"Of course. It'd be crazy not to."

"Does Calliope even know Carrie Underwood?" Emily grinned.

"I don't think so," Spencer shook his head, lifting a hand to his temple as he did. "Just some wild rumour."

"Hey, you okay?" Ashley asked, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. Spencer sidestepped away from her touch.

"I'm fine. Just have a little headache. Excuse me." Spencer gave her a nod and turned, walking towards Penelope's office.

"What'd I do?" Ashley asked, glancing at Derek.

"He, uh, isn't fond of being touched," Derek lied, his eyes shifting to Emily before back to Ashley.

"What was that?" Ashley looked between them. "That look. What was that look?"

"Well, uh, it's just," Emily fumbled over her words, desperately searching for a lie that wasn't too much of a lie, but she came up empty. "Well, Cal and Spencer sort of had a fight."

"They just got engaged like two days ago. What's there to fight over?"

"It was before they got engaged," Derek looked down at his hands and then back up. "And it was about you."

ooo ooo ooo ooo

"Mammy, you're killing me here." Calliope put her head down and threaded her fingers together over the back of her head, elbows set into her knees. "I don't know. I'm not trying to exclude you from anything, I promise. I just don't know yet. I have no idea when the wedding's going to be. I don't know what my colours are. I don't know who's going to be the bridesmaids. I don't know if Jill or Penny's going to be the maid of honour. I don't know what I want to serve. I don't know how big it's going to be. I don't know if I'm taking his name. Mammy, I just don't know. Please, give me a break. All I know is that I'm marrying Spencer at some time at Dahlia and Grandpa's walking me down the isle. That's all I know."

"What about Spencer's parents? Are they going to sit together?"

"I don't know," Calliope whined pitifully, pressing her fingertips to her temples.

"What's wrong, Callie? Why are you rubbing your head?" Brenda asked, looking up from lists and lists of names she was looking over.

"I've got a headache."

"You just got engaged, this should be the happiest time of your life, why should you have a headache?"

Calliope rolled her eyes up to the top of her skull and prayed for a lightening bolt to cut through the brightly sunny sky and strike her dead.

"I'm going to go get some aspirin."

"Come right back, we have so much to do."

"You bet."

Somehow, she managed to make it out of the room before she broke out into a run, down the hall, down the stairs, through the foyer and into the kitchen. In the kitchen, she grabbed the Double Stuffed Oreos in the pantry, the gallon of milk in the fridge and, checking the empty room before she did, opened the door to the cellar and disappeared inside.

"S-O-S."

Calliope sent the text to Spencer once she was hidden in the corner behind neatly ordered boxes full of Christmas decorations. She ripped open the Oreos and shoved two in her mouth at a time. This is what her Mammy reduced her to: hiding in the basement stuffing her face with sugar-based comfort.

Half the case and a quarter of the gallon of milk had been consumed by the time her iPhone rang in her pocket.

"Eehoo?" Calliope mumbled around a mouthful of cookie.

"You Morris Coded?"

"I don't know what colour I'm wearing." Calliope leaned against the wall, closing her eyes, as Spencer's voice filled her ear.

"You could look down and check. That always works for me."

"To the wedding!"

"Well, I assume you'll be wearing white. You will be the bride. Brides usually wear white."

"What did I say?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I called you, what did I say?"

"'I don't know what colour I'm wearing.'" Spencer repeated her opening line after 'hello.'

"Oh. I meant I don't know what the wedding colours are."

"Probably something bright. A few shades below than nuclear neon. Are you okay, Sweetheart?"

"Are your parents going to sit together?"

"Yes, of course."

"Okay. Than, yes, I'm okay."

"This was all about my parents sitting together?"

"No, but at least I now have one thing I can tell Mammy I do know." Calliope twisted another Oreo and scrapped the stuffing off with her pinkie and shoveled it into her mouth.

"Are you eating?"

"No," she mumbled around the crème.

"Spit the cookie out."

"I don't 'ave a cookie."

"You're with Brenda. You always stress eat when you're with Brenda. Spit the cookie out. You shouldn't eat when you're stressed. You only eat junk and then you overdose on sugar, put too much glucose into your bloodstream and then you're body produces too much insulin and your glucose levels fall too low."

"Stop pretending you're a doctor," Calliope snapped as she pulled another cookie out of the bag.

"I am a doctor."

"Not that kind of doctor."

"Put down the cookie."

"I'm not Eme, you can't tell me what to do."

"I know, Eme actually listens. There's no case today. Is it really bad? Do you need rescuing?"

"No, I'm okay. I'm hiding in the cellar. I don't know anything. I don't know when the wedding is. I don't know who the maid of honour is. I'm useless, String Bean. Useless and stupid."

"No you're not. You're brilliant, Sweetheart. Don't let Brenda do this to you."

"I can't not let Mammy do this to me. She's Mammy. She's in my head. She knows how to get me. She's my mother. She knows me. Mom's can do this sort of stuff to their daughter. They get in their daughter's heads and drive them insane. And then, for some sick reason, after a while, they stay in our heads and we start to think like them. And then, if that isn't bad enough, we become them. All of a sudden, you say something and you're like, 'Who the hell just said that? I don't even like Brussels sprouts!' and before you know it you're eating salad everyday and joining the D.A.R. and wearing pastels. You're marrying a future Brenda. Are you sure you want to do that? You're going to come home one day and find me sitting at the table with senators' wives, dressed in a light pink silk chenille pants suit with my hair cut in a short, monocoloured bob and gossiping about who's husband is sleeping with his secretary and you'll go, "Who the hell's that? Where's my wife?' and Eme'll be cowering in a closet somewhere because I tried to put her in ruffly underwear."

"I really like your ruffled underwear. Especially the green lacey ones."

"Spencer!"

"Calm down, Sweetheart. You're not going to become Brenda."

"Of course it's going to happen! It happens to all women. It's like menopause. Men's butts disappear after the age of fifty and women turn into their mothers. It's a sick, twisted law of nature. Like childbirth."

"Calliope, you're not turning into your mother. You're going to be fine."

"I'm a failure."

"You are not a failure."

"What kind of bride doesn't even know her wedding date?"

"The kind who's only been engaged for two weeks. August twenty-eighth is a Sunday this year. Why don't we get married on our anniversary?"

"August? That's only eight months. Can we get a wedding put together in eight months?"

"If anyone can, you can. Sweetheart, it's going to be all right. Just take a breath and put away the cookies."

"But I don't want to put away the cookies."

"I knew you had cookies. I love you, Sweetheart. You sure you're going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay. I love you too, String Bean. I'll talk to you at home."

"Talk to you later. Bye."

Spencer hung up the phone and put it in his pocket with a smile before exciting the bathroom. With his smile firmly in place, he walked the last few years to Penelope's office. He knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for an answer.

"Hello Merry Groom in Tights. How do?"

"Merry Groom, yes. I draw the line at tights," Spencer smiled at her and picking at butterscotch Dum-Dum from the mug on her desk. "I've got a wedding date for you."

"AHH!" Penelope squealed and jumped up, giving him a hug that nearly knocked the lollipop down his throat before rushing to the calendar on her wall.

"What is that?"

The neon green calendar had the words "WEDDING CALENDAR" above it in pink and orange bubble letters and purple streamers exploding on either side.

"What's the date?"

"August 28."

Penelope bent over and circled the number enough times to tear through the paper. "Oh my GOD! I can't believe you're getting married. Ahh! This is so exciting! Has anything else been decided?"

"Well, Calliope's the bride and will be wearing white. I'm going to be the groom and my parents are sitting together. That's about it."

"Very funny. How's Callie doing?"

"She's hiding in the basement of Dahlia eating cookies and rambling about turning into Brenda and wearing pastels," Spencer plopped himself down into the second computer chair.

"Oh, so everything's right on schedule." Penelope grinned and took her own Dum-Dum from the mug. "This is so great. It's going to be at Dahlia, right?"

"I assume so. Emeline's wondering when Auntie Penny is coming over to play dress-up again."

"Whenever my little angel niece wants me to!" Penelope's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "How about this weekend? You and Callie can go see The Tourist. She's been dying to see it, but hasn't gotten the chance."

"You sure?"

"Yeah! Eme and I can play dollies and dress up and have a tea party and I can give her the new dresses I got for her and –"

"Please tell me you haven't been buying Emeline every pink or purple dress you've seen."

"No! Of course not."

"Good."

"Some of them are other colours."

"You're going to spoil her," Spencer shook his head and then winced, reaching a hand up to his temple.

"You've still got that headache? Reid! It's been, like, three days!"

"I've got a doctors appointment tomorrow morning."

"Have you told Callie?"

"No, not yet. She's stressed out enough."

"Spencer, you have to tell her," Penelope narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'll tell her if it's something. I don't want to worry her over nothing."

The door opened and Hotch stuck his head in. "Oh, there you are, Reid. I've been looking for you."

"I'm right here."

"Reid, I want you to look through some of these files and build preliminary profiles," Hotch placed a thick stack of files on Penelope's desk, away from the computers, and juggled the remaining folders in his hands that Reid assumed were for Morgan and Prentiss.

"What are they for?" Spencer asked, taking the top one and opening it.

"U.S. Marshalls sent them over. All are violent criminals, a handful of murderers. All of them have been on the run for at least a decade and all of them are at least five years cold."

"How much is in here?"

"Everything the Marshalls have. Some more than others." Hotch dropped some of the files and sighed. Spencer and Penelope help him pick up the files, straightening them and handing them back. "Thank you. Okay, just whenever you have a prelim, just put it on my desk. Current cases take precedence, of course."

"I've done cold cases before," Spencer nodded.

"Right, right."

"You okay, Hotch?"

"Yeah, Jack's going through a clingy stage. He's missing Haley and I haven't had much sleep lately."

"Let us know if you need anything. Really," Penelope laid a hand on his arm with a sad smile.

"Thanks, I will. Nice calendar."

A/N:

Thanks for sticking with me, guys. It's been a rough writing patch this past while. I'm trying to work through it.

Also, everything just really sucks lately. It's been terrible. My precious pooch has been sick and he had to have surgery to get his gallbladder removed. He's feeling better, but it was scary and he's going in tomorrow for testing to make sure if he has Cushing's Disease. And he needs knee surgery. But he's going to be okay, and that's the good part. Then, on top of our upstairs neighbours being loud, obnoxious assholes, their apartment got fumigated and all the bedbugs ran downstairs to MY bedroom. It took a few days to figure out what was biting me. I thought they were mosquitoes at first and then I thought they were spiders, because I've riding the nature trail lately. We finally figured it out, but, by that time, I'd been bitten about 100 times. So we had to pack up everything in our bedrooms, wash ALL the clothing we had, and get OUR apartment fumigated.

Then, the day the bug guys came (last Friday), my godfather passed away. It was awful. He's been really, really sick for a long time (like several years 'long time'), but it was still horrible actually hearing that he's gone. My heart hurts. He was my favourite of my father's family. He was the only one who made me feel like my mother, brother and I were a part of the family. I wish we lived closer and I knew him better than I do. I love you, Uncle Bob, and I miss you already. But I learned that I work with the best people in the world. Not only did they get me through the first eight hours after his passing, they actually made me smile and enjoy the staff training and have fun with them when I really wanted to go hide in the bathroom and cry.

I finish my finals tomorrow and I haven't had time to put my room back together and arpigfuyaerbnrj. Ugh. But I have a great trip to look forward to! I'm going up north to see Jen and Britt and my baby cousin Christina. I'M SO EXCITED YOU CAN'T EVEN IMAGINE. It's like the light and the end of the tunnel.

I hope you liked the chapter, I hope it was worth the wait (bleh!) and please, tell me what you think, good or bad.

Love, Thalia