As he finished setting the table, minus the plates which he planned to bring out with the food on them, Reid took a step back from it to make sure everything was in order. For starters, he had set the table in the dining room, instead of the smaller one in the kitchen that he and Amber normally used when it was just the two of them. A red tablecloth covered the table. In the center of the table he had placed a vase containing six white roses and six sterling roses. On either side of the vase, a silver candle had been placed in matching glass candle holders to be lit when they sat down to eat. A bucket of ice awaited the bottle of wine that was still in the refrigerator. He had set places in the middle of the long sides of the rectangular table, moving the other chairs off to the side of the room for the night.

Satisfied that things were in order, Reid turned to head back to the kitchen to start the dinner he had planned for tonight - veal parmigiana, a rice pilaf, green beans and garlic bread. Dessert was going to be a homemade peach pie, from a recipe that he had gotten from Mrs. Henderson. He wasn't sure if it was what most people would consider a nice Valentine's Day dinner, but it was one that he knew Amber would enjoy, as veal parmigiana was one of her favorite foods. As he passed the stereo, Reid checked to make sure the CD of romantic jazz songs was ready. Approaching the doorway of the room, he was careful not to disturb the trail of red rose petals that graced the floor from the dining room to the front door.

As Reid started the dinner preparations, he thought about what had transpired at the office that day. Of course Garcia couldn't let a holiday pass without making it her own. The blonde tech had been dressed in red from the red bow she had clipped in her hair to the red shoes on her feet. Anticipating that many of her co-workers would not take it upon themselves to wear red, she had come armed with a bunch of red rose boutonnieres which she cheerfully pinned to anyone she caught not wearing red. Even Hotch had been wearing one within an hour of Garcia being in the building. ~Though perhaps she went a little overboard with the heart-shaped confetti, ~ Reid thought, thinking that the janitorial staff was going to have a hard time cleaning it up tonight. Morgan had brought in a single yellow rose for each of their female teammates.

The biggest surprise, however, had happened around lunchtime. A delivery man came in carrying a vase of twenty-four yellow roses with red tips. Reid had been in JJ's office when the delivery guy knocked on the door asking for Jennifer Jareau. When JJ had spoken up, the man had placed the vase on her desk and then left. By this time, Garcia and Prentiss had been attracted to the office and were standing in the doorway.

"Who are they from?" Prentiss asked, as JJ had plucked the card from among the roses.

JJ blushed slightly as she read the card. "Just an old friend," she replied, as she quickly tucked the card into the top middle desk drawer.

"You know, yellow roses with a red tip generally have the meaning that you're falling in love," he had replied casually, even as he shared a look with Prentiss and Garcia. Though their media liaison thought her relationship with a certain police detective in Louisiana was unknown to her teammates, Prentiss, Morgan, Reid and Garcia had figured it out months ago. They weren't about to confess that to JJ though.~Let her think she's got a secret from us if it makes her happy, ~ Reid thought.

Yes, it had been a nice day at work. They had all spent the day working on paper work, most of it having to do with their most recent case. Though Marshall's trial had yet to be set, they wanted to make sure they were ready for it when it was.

As Reid finished dishing the food onto two plates, he glanced up at the clock which read six twenty-five. Rossi should be dropping off Amber shortly. Leaving the plates on the counter, he glanced at the timer that was counting down how long the peach pie had been baking. There was still fifteen minutes left on it, as he left the kitchen and walked back to the dining room.

Back at the table, Reid picked up the book of matches he had left there, and started to light the candles. After lighting the second candle, he lifted the match, intending to blow it out and instead dropped it on the table cloth. Reid quickly grabbed the closest goblet and flipped it over to cover the match. Eventually the flame extinguished from the lack of oxygen. Reid picked up the goblet and the match, and looked at the scorched area of the table cloth.

~Well, so much for everything looking perfect, ~ he thought, as he headed to the kitchen with the goblet and match.

He disposed of the match, grabbed a new goblet, the bottle of red wine from the refrigerator and headed back to the dining room with them. One trip later, he was placing the plates on the table. Stepping back, he looked at the table again. Everything looked all right, well except for the blackened table cloth that stood out to him like a hunter's orange vest in the woods, but it couldn't be helped. He heard the front door open.

"Spencer, where are you?" Amber called out, a hint of confusion in her voice.

"Just follow the rose petals," he called out to her, as he headed for the stereo. It wasn't long before the soft strains of jazz music filled the air.

It wasn't long before Amber, dressed in the red blouse and black slacks she had changed into at the base before her dad had picked her up, was standing in the doorway.

"Happy Valentine's Day," Spencer said, walking over to her.

Amber looked at the table, down at the rose petals on the floor, back at the table and then back at Spencer. "This is lovely," she told him, as she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "I love you."

"I love you too," he told her, glad that she had enjoyed the surprise dinner. He had been worried she would be upset that they were eating in instead of going out. They shared a long, deep kiss. When they finally broke for air, it was Spencer that spoke. "How about we sit down to dinner before it gets cold."

The two of them walked over to the table. Reaching the table, Spencer took a hold of the chair and pulled it out for Amber. Once she was seated, he grabbed the bottle of red wine, easily got the cork out with the corkscrew, and reached for her goblet to pour the wine. Once her glass had wine in it, he walked around the table to his own place. Spencer poured his own wine, and placed the bottle back into the bucket of ice. Before taking his own seat though, he managed to knock his glass over with his arm.

"Shoot!" he exclaimed, quickly grabbing for the cloth napkin that was on the table to keep the wine from running off the table and onto the carpet.

"I'll go get something to clean that up with," Amber said standing up.

It wasn't long before she returned to the dining room, a roll of paper towels and a plastic bag in tow. In a matter of moments they were able to get the red wine cleaned up, and the wine soaked paper towels were placed in the plastic bag. Amber poured Spencer another glass of wine, placed the bottle safely in the bucket of ice, and they both sat down. After a quick blessing on the food the two of them began to eat, casual conversation passing easily between them. So easily in fact that Spencer didn't realize he had forgotten about the pie that was still in the oven.

"Is that smoke?" Amber asked.

Amber didn't quite catch what Spencer had said, as he jumped to his feet and hurried from the dining room. Wondering what was going on, Amber got up herself and followed him. Reaching the kitchen, she was greeted with the site of smoke coming from the oven. Spencer had grabbed potholders and had pulled the burnt peach pie from the oven. As he went to place it on the top of the electric stove, his finger touched part of the hot Pyrex dish. With an exclamation of pain he let go of the dish, which was over top of the stove by this point.

"What happened?" Amber asked rushing toward him.

"My finger touched the pie dish briefly. It's nothing. I'm fine."

"Yeah, I'll be the judge of that," Amber told him, guiding him over to the sink.

She turned on the cold water and put Spencer's hand under the stream of water just as the kitchen's smoke detector went off. Spencer started to move away but Amber held his hand under the stream of water. "I've got it. Keep that finger in the water," she ordered as she moved toward the smoke detector.

Reaching up, she took the smoke detector off the wall, and silenced it. Then leaving the kitchen she went into the entry hall, and placed the device on the stand against the wall to keep it away from the smoke from the burnt pie. Heading back to the kitchen, she turned the fan above the stove on, to help clear the smoke and then opened the one window near the door leading onto the back porch. Amber then crossed back over to Reid, glancing at the clock as she did so.

"Can I take my hand out of the water?" he asked.

"Not yet," she told him. At his exasperated look, she added, "the hazard of dating a paramedic."

Reid looked over at the burnt pie still sitting on the stove. "Sorry about dessert. I can't believe I forgot about the pie still being in the oven."

"Not to worry," she told him. "I can think of something else I would rather have for dessert," she added, in a low, sultry tone.

The suggestive comment did not elicit the response Amber had been hoping for. Instead, Spencer's face took on the lost puppy-dog expression that came so naturally to him, without him realizing it. "I wanted this night to be perfect. Instead, I burn the table cloth, spill the wine, burn the pie and here we are with you fussing over a minor burn while the rest of our dinner is getting cold."

"Relax," Amber told him, resting her hand on his shoulder. "It's fine."

"No, it isn't," Spencer said frustrated. "I'm sure this," he said, indicating the hand under the running water with his other hand, "is not how you expected to spend your Valentine's."

"Spencer, life is seldom what we expect," Amber told him. "As for this evening, you want to know what I'm going to remember? I'm going to remember how my fiancee went out of his way to cook me a nice dinner, set a romantic mood, and bought me a beautiful bouquet of roses. It doesn't matter what happens because I get to share my life with the man I love. I don't need perfection because all I need is you," she told him, leaning close to give him a kiss. "Now let's see what this finger looks like."

Amber turned off the water, and took a look at the burn. The skin was red but didn't look like it was going to blister. "I'll be right back," she told him, before running upstairs to grab the aloe gel and a sterile gauze bandage.

David Rossi parked his SUV in the restaurant parking lot at five minutes of seven. Grabbing the small bouquet of four yellow roses, interspersed with baby breath that he had picked up from the florist on his way to dropping Amber off at home, he climbed from the vehicle and headed toward the entrance of the restaurant. As he approached the front door, he saw the woman he was meeting approaching from the other direction.

"Hello Wendy," David Rossi greeted his third ex-wife as they met in front of the restaurant entrance. "You look lovely."

Wendy Dupree, as she had gone back to her maiden name after their divorce, had her graying hair pinned up. The free flowing calf-length skirt of the navy dress she wore was visible below the black, wool, winter coat she wore. Emerald earrings graced each earlobe.

Wendy was now an advertisement consultant for a big advertisement firm in New York City. After bouncing around from job to job following her separation from David Rossi, she had landed her current job and had been quite happy there. Though she had dated a few men, here and there, she hadn't gotten serious with anyone. While she missed the companionship of a long-term relationship at times, she couldn't say she wasn't happy. She had made several friends during her time in NYC and still kept in contact with her stepdaughter.

"Thank-you," Wendy answered as she accepted the bouquet of roses that Dave held out to her. As flattered as she was that he had brought roses, she was also glad that they were yellow, the color of friendship. Right now, that was all she wanted from David Rossi.

"Shall we go eat?" Dave suggested holding out his arm to her.

With a nod, Wendy looped her arm through his and Dave escorted her into the restaurant.

Dave gave his name to the maitre d', who checked the list, and promptly escorted the pair to a table along one side of the crowded restaurant. A waiter appeared promptly after the maitre d' had left their table. After Wendy had deferred the wine choice to Dave, the federal agent made a selection and left to get their drink.

"So you have Amber nearby for a while I hear," Wendy ventured as she glanced over the menu, trying to decide on what she wanted to eat.

"Yes, her current posting has her working in D.C. It's been enjoyable though I don't know how long she's going to be here. The Coast Guard tends to move their personnel around as they see fit. Have you seen her while you were in town?"

"Yes, we met for coffee yesterday afternoon. She seems much happier than she had been. Wish I could have met this fiancee of hers, Spencer right?" Wendy asked looking to Dave for confirmation. Dave gave a single nod. "He seems like a fine young man, and Amber certainly is taken with him though for her sake I hope he isn't a work-alcoholic."

"Like I was?" Dave ventured, finishing the unspoken sentiment.

"I didn't say that."

"No, but it is the reason you left me isn't it? At least I can't think of anything else I might have done. You always seemed to enjoy the time we did spend together and as far as I know there wasn't another man in the picture."

"No, Dave I wasn't seeing anyone else, I just tired of playing second fiddle to the BAU."

Dave nodded. He couldn't fault her for that. Looking back, he could see how he had often put his job above his family. It was a hazard of the territory. It was so easy to become obsessed with tracking down the bad guys, thinking that by doing so you're protecting the ones you love from some unknown threat. He wasn't the only one that had fallen victim to that kind of blindness and he probably wouldn't be the last.

The waiter reappeared with the wine, and he poured each of them a glass before placing the remainder of the bottle in a bucket of ice. As Dave and Wendy had been looking over the menu during their conversation both were ready to order. After taking their requests, the waiter left the table to place the orders.

"Amber said Spencer works with you?"

"Yes, he's one of the members of the team I work with. Quite a remarkable young man actually."

"But, not good enough for your daughter?" Wendy questioned, reaching out and picking up her wine glass. She lifted the glass to her lips as Dave responded to the question.

"Actually, I think he is good enough for her," Dave told her. "Not that I'm completely at ease with the thought of giving my little girl away, but as I have to, I don't think she could have made a better choice. I'm just hoping they don't make the same mistakes I did."

"Well, well, I never thought I would ever see the day that David Rossi would ever admit to making mistakes," Wendy commented, the smile playing at her lips softening the words.

"What can I say, I've done a lot of reflecting in my old age. There are definitely things I would change if I had a chance to do them over," Dave told her.

Wendy looked across the table at the man she had once been married to. The man she had once loved and had to admit that a part of her still did. Deciding that his last comment was pointing toward a door she really didn't want to open at this point in time, Wendy decided not to comment on it but instead steered the conversation in another direction.

"So Dave, what possessed you to go back to the bureau? Did your book tours become too routine for you?"

"Would you believe me if I told you I simply ran out of material?" Dave replied, with a wry smile. He hadn't told anyone yet about his true intentions of coming back to the BAU. About the one unsolved case that wouldn't stop haunting him. Perhaps sharing that with someone would lessen the burden. He knew his secret would be safe with her, as Wendy had never been the type to go blowing confidences even when she was mad at the person who had confided in her.

Their meal had concluded without further incident. Spencer had suggested that Amber go find something to watch on TV while he cleaned things from their dinner up. Reluctantly, she did so though she kept an ear out for any sounds of something breaking as she relaxed on the couch, slowly flipping through channels. Finally, she settled on a romantic movie that was playing.

It wasn't long before Spencer was joining her in the living room. As he sat down next to her on the couch, he held a card out to her. Taking the card from him, she opened it, smiling as she read the romantic words of the card he had picked out. As she flipped it open, a small rectangle card fell out of it.

"What's this?" Amber asked, picking up the card.

"Your gift," Spencer answered hesitantly.

Amber read the card.

The Rosewood Dance Studio

Janet McIntyre dance instructor

Underneath those two lines were the number and address. Amber still wasn't exactly sure what was going on. She looked over at Spencer who read the question in her eyes.

"I overheard part of your conversation with Garcia when the two of you were watching the dance competition, so I thought arranging for dance lessons for the two of us would be a good gift. Perhaps our first dance could be a waltz after all."

"You're actually going to take dance lessons?"

Spencer shrugged. "Who knows, it might be fun and I'd do anything for you. Garcia helped me find a place that offered private lessons along with group lessons. I'm definitely not ready for the group lessons but I talked to Janet McIntyre and she's willing to work around our crazy schedules by setting up the lessons one at a time. I've paid for ten to start with. We just need to call her to set up the first session."

Amber embraced him. "This is the best present you could give me," she told him.

"I do recommend that you invest in steel toe shoes, though," Spencer told her. "I don't promise not to tread on feet."

"Well, then I just might have to return the favor," Amber told him, before pressing her lips up against his.

"I think maybe its time we move this celebration upstairs," Amber said, a few minutes later when the two broke for air. "I think I'm ready for that other desert I told you I had in mind earlier. Besides, you gave me my gift now I think its time I gave you yours."

"You won't get any protest from me," Reid replied.

After another long kiss, the couple got to their feet. Amber turned off the TV as she and Spencer walked hand in hand out of the living room and toward the stairs. With any luck it would be a late night but not because of nightmares this time.