𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛
˗ˏˋ ꒰                                            ꒱ ˎˊ˗

VALERIE KNEW THAT the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI was composed of a group of well-trained and well-renowned agents; at least, that's what Aaron Hotchner and Erin Strauss had relayed to her and Cassidy at the beginning of their flight. She tapped her fingers against the armrest, already working through what little she knew about their soon-to-be teammates. Eight agents, each with their own skills, their own ways of thinking. They weren't just good at what they did—they were the best. Profilers. Analysts. People who understood the darkest corners of the human mind and still chose to walk into them.

The way Hotchner spoke about them, though, it was more than just a team. It was something deeper. A family.

Valerie wished she had something like that.

Graduating earlier from high school than most other kids had driven a wedge between her and her father, Timothy Bela, who disapproved of her decision to pursue medical school. He always pushed for something safe, more conventional for a young woman. Something that didn't pull her so far from the life he had planned for her.

"Teaching or even banking would be better for you, sweetheart." His voice was measured, but there was no mistaking the disappointment beneath it. She had heard it too many times before. Timothy Bela stood stiffly, arms crossed, his expression unreadable except for the deep lines etched into his brow. He studied his daughter with tired eyes, his gaze heavy with concern. "Why would you waste your talent on something like that? Medicine isn't stable, Valerie. It's long hours, expensive, and too risky."

Valerie felt her breath hitch, but she refused to falter. She tightened her grip on the acceptance letter in her hands, the edges slightly crumpled from how hard she was holding it.

"I'm being practical, Dad."  She said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I graduated at the top of my class. I worked for this." 

Fifteen years old. 

Too young in his eyes, but she had worked relentlessly for what she wanted. She had spent years pushing herself, sacrificing sleep, friends, and normal teenage experiences just to prove she could do it—that she deserved this opportunity. It was the night after her high school graduation, and she had planned to tell him on her own terms. Instead, he had found the letter first, and now here they were, standing in the dimly lit kitchen, a silent war waging between them with her little brother just upstairs.

Timothy let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "Val, I just don't want you wasting your life chasing something that's going to burn you out." His voice softened, but it didn't make the words hurt any less.

Valerie's chest tightened. "So, what, you'd rather I take a desk job? Push numbers around? Teach kids subjects I don't even care about?" Her voice rose, years of bottled-up frustration spilling out all at once. "I want this, Dad. I want to help people. I want to be able to make a difference. Mom would have—"

The words hung in the air like a slap. Timothy's face went pale, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and pain. The mention of his late wife always struck a nerve. His hands shook as he clenched them at his sides. "Don't you dare bring your mother into this," The man spat, his voice a low growl. "You think she'd have wanted this? Huh? You think she'd have wanted you to end up like her?"

Valerie recoiled, the sting of his words cutting deep. She had never seen him like this. His face twisted in anguish as he stepped back, as if he couldn't bear to look at her any longer. "I know what I want to do." Valerie whispered, her voice breaking.

Timothy's jaw tensed, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence between them.

Then, finally, he spoke. "You're making a mistake."

The finality in his tone stung more than she expected.

Valerie took a shaky breath, swallowing down the lump forming in her throat. "I won't sacrifice my dreams for your version of security. I can't keep living my life the way you want me to." Her voice wavered, but she held her ground. "I'm going to medical school, with or without your support."

She didn't wait for a response.

She turned on her heel, her footsteps echoing through the quiet house as she stormed toward the front door. The night air was thick and humid, but it did nothing to clear the tightness in her chest. Valerie had made it halfway down the driveway when something inside her made her stop. 

She couldn't leave.

Not without saying goodbye to him.

Her feet moved on instinct, carrying her back through the front door and down the hall to Antonio's room. His door was cracked open, and through the dim light, she saw him sitting cross-legged on his bed, flipping through a comic book.

His head snapped up when he saw her. "Val?" He frowned. "What's wrong?" He tilted his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes. He was only eight—too young to understand all of this, but old enough to know something was wrong.

Valerie stepped forward, her throat tightening as she crossed the room and pulled him into a hug, pressing her chin against the top of his head. His small arms wrapped around her waist, clinging to her like she might disappear at any moment.

"Tony, I'm leaving," she whispered. "I don't know when I'll be back, but I need you to know that I love you."

His grip on her tightened.

"Promise you'll come back soon?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "And when you do, we'll eat all the ice cream and watch whatever movies you pick."

Valerie let out a choked laugh, trying to blink away the tears burning behind her eyes.

"I promise."

She kissed the top of his head, taking one last look at him before pulling away.

This time, when she left, she didn't look back.

Fourteen years passed, fourteen years in which Valerie had thrown herself into her studies, burying herself in the pursuit of something greater. College. Medical School. A doctorate. She had built herself a life from the ground up, but not once had she returned to her father's door. 

Valerie had remained close to her brother, meeting with him whenever she could. Their meetings were her lifeline, and it was during one of those meetings that her life had changed forever, leading her down a path that she could never have imagined.

eft the house that night, not daring to look back. In the fourteen years that followed, she had went to college and medical school, earned herself a doctorate, and never met with her father once. She had remained close to her brother, meeting with him whenever she could. 

Their meetings were her anchor—the one piece of home she hadn't lost.

And it was during one of those meetings that everything changed.

That was the night that led her down a path she never could have imagined.

That was the night she met—

"Dr. Romero, coffee?"

Valerie's thoughts snapped back to the present as she blinked, momentarily disoriented. Her gaze shifted upward to meet the unit chief's expectant look.

"No, thank you." She replied softly, offering a polite smile before he turned away, heading toward the back of the jet. Valerie glanced out the window, her eyes following the land disappearing beneath the clouds. A nervous twist gripped her stomach, and the decision to join the FBI began to feel more surreal with every passing mile. The comfort of her former life seemed like a distant memory now, and she couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty. What had she really gotten herself into?

Agent Hotchner returned to his seat beside Strauss, balancing two cups of steaming coffee. He passed one to Cassidy, who accepted it with a grateful smile. "Your accommodations  should be ready when we arrive in Quantico," Hotchner informed as he returned Cassidy's smile. "If you two don't mind the jet lag, I'd like you to meet the team before you're off." 

"Of course, Agent Hotchner." Cassidy replied eagerly, though her appearance betrayed the exhaustion of the quick flight. Her light blue blouse was slightly wrinkled, the evidence of hours spent in the cramped jet seat. Her jeans bore faint creases from being hastily thrown on, and her usually neat hair was now gathered in a messy bun. Hotchner's gesture of offering the coffee was not lost on her—a silent acknowledgment of the long day ahead.

Aaron Hotchner observed the woman with a hint of amusement, his gaze drifting to the way she absentmindedly placed a pen in her mouth as she  carefully examined each line of the packet Strauss had handed her at the beginning of the flight. Cassidy's dark eyes flicked over the lines with a level of focus, her foot tapping rhythmically against the floor of the plane, a telltale sign of her restless energy. Even though her appearance was a but disheveled, there was something refreshing about the way she devoured the pages filled with profile examples and job procedures.

"Hotch."

Cassidy lifter he head, momentarily distracted by the voice, her brow furrowing in curiosity. "Sorry, what was that?" she asked, her voiced soft yet filled with genuine interest.

Hotch's gaze briefly lingered on Cassidy a beat longer than necessary, a rare warmth flickering in his otherwise stoic expression. "Everyone on the team calls me Hotch," he explained, his tone calm but with just a hint of something more behind it. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Cassidy gave him a small nod, her lips curving into a smile. "Got it, Hotch," she replied, the nickname rolling off her tongue effortlessly. She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice just a touch as she added, "But if we're being casual, you can call me Cass." She winked, before she returned to the papers in front of her.

The man blinked, his brow raising slightly in surprise at her offer. There was a flicker of something in his eyes before he gave a slow, approving nod. "Cass," he echoed, letting the nickname settle between them. Hotch cleared his throat softly, his gaze still on her before he turned his attention to his own paperwork, though a small smile tugged at his lips.

"Dr. Romero, you haven't spoken this entire time," Strauss' voice cut through the air, her cold tone dismissing any trace of the earlier moment between Hotch and Cassidy. Valerie shuddered as Strauss' piercing gaze directed he attention towards her. "I do hope you're not regretting your decision?"

"Of course not, ma'am." Valerie replied, smile faltering slightly under the scrutiny. Her smile faltered slightly, unable to hold against the weight of Strauss' scrutiny. She shifted in her seat, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks, and the three pairs of eyes now on her made her feel small. "It's just... a lot to process," she finished, her voice wavering just a little.

"Indeed," Strauss acknowledged, her gaze unwavering. The young doctor delicately tapped her fingers on her lap in attempt to steady her nerves, the sound of her own heartbeat echoing in her ears as she tried her best to avoid eye contact. "But I need you in top shape, Dr. Romero." Strauss continued, each word punctuated with icy precision. "You are part of the BAU team now. That means you represent us wherever you go. Be prepared, be focused. Understood?"

Valerie's pulse quickened as she swallowed hard, her throat dry and tight.  The weight of Strauss' words settled over her like a heavy blanket. The responsibility, the expectation—it was all coming at her too fast. She nodded sharply, trying to steady herself, but the tightness in her chest didn't go away. "Of course," she whispered, barely above a breath. She forced a smile, but it was thin, fragile, just enough to pass for confidence. The reality of what she had just signed up for hit her harder than she expected. 

Strauss' lips curled into a smirk, her eyes glinting with a mix of approval and cold satisfaction as Valerie's compliance seemed to please her. She leaned back in her seat with a subtle shift, her posture relaxed now that she had made her point. "Good." Her voice was cool, but there was a sharp edge of finality to it. "I wouldn't have expected anything less from you, Dr. Romero."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ★ ✧꒱ ˎˊ˗

The atmosphere inside the Quantico FBI Base was a world apart from the chaos of the outside world. Everything here felt perfectly orchestrated—dark, polished floors gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and the sleek, modern design of the walls spoke of efficiency and purpose. The hum of activity and the background only added to the intense focus. Both Valerie and Cassidy couldn't help but be impressed as they followed Hotch and Strauss down the winding corridor. 

Cassidy leaned in and nudged Valerie's arm with a grin, her eyes scanning the surroundings. "I gotta admit, this place is way fancier than I imagined the FBI would be. And—" she paused, her eyes flicking playfully to the stark white walls, "a lot less blood than I thought." Her grin was infectious, trying to break the tension that Valerie couldn't seem to shake. 

The younger woman managed a smile, but it felt thin. She swallowed hard, trying to focus on Cassidy's words, but the weight of everything around her—the unfamiliarity, the gravity of the job—pressed down on her chest. She glanced down, adjusting her purse strap absently, trying to ground herself. Cassidy raised an eyebrow, her playful tone shifting slightly. "Hey, are you oaky? If you're having second thoughts, we can go." She offered, her voice filled with genuine concern.

"I'm fine," Valerie replied quickly, though the words came out less convincing than she hoped. She plastered on a smile, but it felt strained, like she was trying to fit into a role she wasn't sure she was ready for. "I think it's just jet lag, honestly," she added, though even she could hear the lack of certainty in her own voice. She shook her head, trying to push the unease aside. She couldn't afford to let it show, not now, not when everything was about to change.

Cassidy didn't look convinced but didn't press further. Instead, she gave her arm another encouraging squeeze. "Well, you know I've got your back. You're not doing this alone."

As they moved deeper into the base, every step Valerie took felt heavier, as though she was walking into a world she wasn't sure she belonged in. Hotch led them through the labyrinthine halls with practiced ease, his posture exuding quiet authority. When they reached the heart of the operations area, he turned to face them, pausing as if to let the moment sink in. He extended his hand toward each of them, his movements deliberate and calm. In his palm were two badges and IDs, shining with a newness that almost felt surreal in Valerie's hands. "Welcome to the Behavioral Analysis Unit, Agents. We're glad to have you on board."

Valerie accepted the badge with a sense of reverence, her fingers lightly tracing over the embossed emblem. The cold metal sent a chill running down her spine, the weight of the badge heavy in her hand. Beside her, Cassidy's playful demeanor had returned. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she glanced at Hotch. "We were hoping you'd invite us in," she teased, her voice light and filled with the usual confidence.

Hotch's smile was brief but genuine, and his eyes softened just slightly as he gestured for them to follow. "Well, you're here now. Let me introduce you to the rest of the team."

Ahead, Strauss waited impatiently by the elevator, her sharp glare urging them to hurry up.  "Let's go; we have a job to get to."

Valerie couldn't help but feel a twinge of discomfort as they entered the elevator. She found herself tapping her black heels anxiously on the floor, a rhythmic beat that was both a sign of nervous anticipation and impatience. Her eyes instinctively flicked to the number above the doors, watching it slowly creep upwards. The elevator seemed to climb in slow motion, the seconds stretching into minutes as the tension in her chest grew with each floor. The number above the door seemed to taunt her—its slow ascent mocking the time she felt slipping away, as though she could somehow reverse the moment and walk out before the doors opened.

Strauss, engrossed in a packet of papers she'd received from the front desk, barely spared Valerie a glance, her expression as cold and disinterested as always. She was already lost in the paperwork, disconnected from the people around her. Valerie's gaze shifted to Hotch and Cassidy. Cassidy's face was filled with a quiet determination, but there was also a hint of amusement as she whispered something to Hotch, his lips twitching in response, a barely-there smile curling at the edges. 

At least Cassidy seemed at ease.

Valerie shifted uneasily on her feet, adjusting her blazer and smoothing out the wrinkles in her pants, trying to steady herself. She needed to look confident, even if she didn't feel it. With one last deep breath, she squared her shoulders, determined not to let her anxiety show. The elevator gave a soft chime as it reached the sixth floor—the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

As the metal doors opened, a bubbly blonde lady with a coffee cup in her hands was on the other side. The moment Valerie's eyes caught the striking green glasses perched on the woman's nose, she couldn't help but feel her curiosity piqued. The glasses seemed to reflect her personality extremely well. The blonde noticed them immediately, her eyes lighting up as she approached, her green and blue nails catching the light. She extended her hand eagerly, her smile broad and warm. "Oh, it is so great to finally meet you!" she exclaimed, her voice full of exuberance. "I'm Penelope Garcia, tech analyst." 

"I'm Valerie Romero." The young woman responded, her smile genuine as she shook Penelope's hand, appreciating the warmth radiating from the woman. "Nice to meet you, Penelope. I love your outfit."

Penelope's face flushed slightly at the compliment, her cheeks turning a soft pink, and a delighted giggle escaped her. "I-uh, thank you!" She stammered, momentarily flustered but quickly recovering. Her fingers tapped her coffee cup as she bounced. "If you ever want to go shopping, just say the word. I've got all the best spots."

Valerie's eyes lit up, her grin widening with excitement at the thought. She already loved Penelope Garcia. "I'd really like that, Penelope."

"Val, making friends without me?" Cassidy teased, strolling over to the pair, raising an eyebrow with a teasing look in Valerie's direction. She turned to the tech analyst, shaking her hand with a warm grin. "Nice to meet you, I'm Cassidy Easton."

"Penelope Garcia." The blonde nodded with a large, friendly smile. "Have you guys met the rest of the team yet?" She began, then quickly added, "Oh, duh—of course you haven't. You just got off the elevator." She laughed at herself, her eyes twinkling.

The air lightened as the women laughed together,  Hotch, observing the exchange from a distance, approaching the trio. "Garcia," He greeted her, gaining the blonde's attention. "I see you've met our new recruits."

Penelope bounced slightly on her heels, practically vibrating with excitement. "Yes, yes I have!" she responded quickly, turning back to Valerie and Cassidy. "Oh, you're going to love it here. We're like a big, dysfunctional family."

Cassidy snorted in amusement, her sharp sense of humor taking over. "Dysfunctional family? That sounds just like us," she said, wrapping an arm around Valerie's shoulders with a playful squeeze.

Valerie, still buzzing from the introduction, found herself smiling warmly at the exchange. Penelope's genuine hospitality made the transition feel a little less daunting. "Thank you, Penelope," She smiled. "We're really looking forward to being part of the team."

"Perhaps we should introduce you to the rest of them. Right this way, ladies." Hotch said as he gestured for the girls to follow him down the stairs to the bullpen. The moment they stepped into view of the team, Valerie couldn't help but feel the weight of their gazes. It was impossible to avoid, of course, the unspoken judgement of a team of profiles who were no doubt analyzing their every movement. She had expected nothing less, but the feeling of being under the microscope made her throat tighten slightly.

As they reached the bottom of the steps, Hotch turned to face them. "Easton, Romero, this is the bullpen," he said, gesturing towards the large space. "Your desks are over there." He pointed toward a desk near a muscular, dark-skinned man who was quietly scanning some files and another by a younger agent, whose intense stare was locked directly onto Valerie. "And here," Hotch continued, "I'll let the rest of the team introduce themselves."

With that, Hotch stepped aside, creating a small gap for a new figure to step forward. A blonde woman, who Valerie noticed immediately had an air of calm authority approached them with a wide, welcoming smile. She extended her hand first to Cassidy, then to Valerie. "Hi there, I'm JJ," she said, her bright blue eyes sparkling with kindness, her voice carrying an undertone of genuine sincerity that made Valerie feel at ease almost immediately. "Welcome to the team."

Valerie smiled back, a bit of the tension in her shoulders easing as she shook JJ's hand. "It's great to meet you, JJ," she said, her voice steady but warm. "I'm Dr. Valerie Romero, and this is Dr. Cassidy Easton."

Cassidy gave a playful wave, her usual confident demeanor taking over. "Nice to meet you," she added, her tone light, though still respectful.

JJ's smile widened, her eyes softening even further. "It's wonderful to have you both here," she replied, her voice carrying the hint of an unspoken promise that they would be in good hands.

"Valerie, French origin, derived from the Latin word valere. It means strong and healthy." A voice called out from across the bullpen, drawing Valerie's attention. She turned to see a man sitting at his desk, his posture relaxed yet attentive. His short, mousy hair neatly combed, and his chin rested thoughtfully on his hand, giving him a slightly aloof yet intellectual aura. Despite the slight judgment that seemed to be in his gaze, there was an undeniable allure in his sharp, calculating mind. "Dr. Spencer Reid," he continued, introducing himself with a quiet, measured tone.

Valerie couldn't help but feel a spark of recognition. There was something about the way he spoke that reminded her of her old professors back in med school—focused, intense, and maybe just a little intimidating.

"Our resident genius." Penelope chimed in, her voice carrying the usual perkiness that seemed to fill every room she entered. "I suppose we'll have to make room here for two, right Valerie?" 

Spencer's gaze flicked between the two women, his expression faltering for a brief moment. Confusion spread across his face, his brow furrowing as he tried to process Penelope's words "What?" he asked, his confusion growing as he looked between Valerie and Penelope, not quite understanding the implied meaning.

Penelope giggled at Reid's expression, a playful gleam in her eyes. "Valerie over here? She's got brains for days. We're talking 'Mensa-level genius' brains. She started med school at age fifteen, residency at nineteen."

"Looks like the genius club just got a bit more crowded, huh, Doctor Reid?" Cassidy teased, clearly enjoying the playful banter. She turned to Penelope, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You've got to show me how you know all of that."

"You've got it, doc." Penelope winked.

Valerie rolled her eyes, aware of the tension building between her and Spencer. Being in the presence of another genius was new to both of them, but she could tell that the prospect of sharing the title unsettled Reid. But to her, it was a way to know that she wasn't alone anymore. She was in the presence of a certified prodigy. "Alright, guys, that's enough," she interjected, trying to diffuse the tension with a laugh. She brushed a dark strand of hair behind her ear, meeting Spencer's frustrated gaze. "Two geniuses are better than one, right, Dr. Reid?"

Reid's eyebrow perked, his expression shifting from frustration to surprise. Accustomed to being the team's lone genius, the idea of sharing that title with someone clearly caught him off guard. His gaze lingered on her, and for a moment, the frustration melted away, replaced by a slight amusement. "Well, it appears so," he responded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Mensa-level? That's... that's incredibly impressive, Dr. Romero."

"Thank you." Valerie's smile brightened, and she could feel a soft blush creeping onto her cheeks. She couldn't deny the thrill of being acknowledged by someone as intellectually esteemed as Spencer Reid. "I don't doubt that I can learn a great deal from your expertise, Doctor Reid."

"I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we're glad to have the both of you join us on the team." A voice broke through the quiet murmur, and Valerie looked up to see a tall, black-haired woman with a confident smile. Her eyes flickered between the two new recruits with an assessing but warm look. Valerie noticed Spencer shift uncomfortably in his seat, quickly diverting his attention to scribbling something on a notepad, clearly uncomfortable with the ongoing introductions. "I'm Emily Prentiss."

Cassidy, always graceful in her approach, stepped forward with a warm smile and extended her hand toward Emily. "Nice to meet you, Agent Prentiss," she said with sincerity, her tone both polite and friendly.

Emily shook Cassidy's hand firmly before turning her attention to Valerie. "It's a pleasure," she said, her smile genuine and welcoming. "We've heard a lot of great things about you two already. It'll be nice to have a couple of new faces around here."

As Valerie prepared to introduce herself, the large door of an office swung open. her heart leapt in her chest as she looked up. Standing in the doorway, framed by the sharp contrast of the dim office lighting, was David Rossi. For a long moment, Valerie froze, her mind reeling. Of all the places to run into him, here? In the heart of the FBI? She had not expected this, let alone the emotional weight that rushed back like a flood.

David Rossi. 

The name alone conjured a flood of memories, each one tied to her mother. Her mother's closest friend. The man who had been a second father to her and her brother during their childhood. The man who had been there, at her mother's funeral, his face etched with grief as the two of them stood side by side. The somber clouds, the cold wind, the overwhelming ache of loss—all of it hit her once more.

Valerie felt the warmth of the office air turn cool. She could feel her breath catch in her chest, as though the years had never passed at all. The rush of memory was almost too much—her mother's laughter, the nights spent in their living room, Rossi always there with a joke or a steady hand to hold. The thought of those days, those happier moments, filled her with a bittersweet ache. The grief that had been so familiar at that funeral, a loss she still carried so deeply, rushed forward as if no time had passed.

Rossi's face, for the briefest of moments, softened into a quiet recognition. His features, stern and serious, gave way to a look of surprise. "Valerie?" he asked, his voice quiet and full of something unspoken. His gaze, sharp yet warm, fixed on her as if trying to reconcile the woman before him with the young girl he once knew.

Valerie's heart fluttered for a moment, as if it had skipped a beat. It had been years since she'd last seen him—sixteen, to be exact. The years hadn't dulled the familiarity, nor the surprise of seeing him here. She managed a small, bittersweet smile, the emotion too heavy for a true grin. She wanted to laugh at the irony of this encounter—here, of all places.

"Yes, it's me," she said softly.

David Rossi's expression seemed to shift almost imperceptibly, as if he was processing the enormity of seeing Valerie again. The small smile he gave her held more meaning than words could convey—years of loss, of friendship, and of the unspoken bond they had. "Well," Rossi said, breaking the silence, his voice thick with both affection and a touch of awkwardness, "you've certainly grown up, haven't you?"

Valerie nodded, feeling the weight of his words as they hung in the air. A strange warmth settled in her chest, the familiarity of Rossi's presence easing the tension in her body. Despite everything, despite the years and the distance, there was something about him that still felt like home. "Yes, I have, Uncle David."

"Uncle David? Am I missing something here?" The dark-skinned male, Derek Morgan, commented, his brow furrowed in confusion. The rest of the team, equally puzzled, glanced between Valerie and Rossi, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and slight disbelief. Valerie could feel heat rise to her cheeks, her gaze briefly flickering away from the group as she adjusted to the unexpected attention.

She forced a sheepish smile and met the man's eyes with a combination of amusement and apology. "Uh... long story," she murmured, feeling the weight of the room's collective curiosity. 

Derek, however, seemed undeterred by her hesitance. With a casual shrug and an easy grin, he raised his hand in a small wave, introducing himself in a way that was as friendly as it was genuine. "Derek Morgan," he said, his deep voice carrying an inviting warmth. It was hard to miss the natural charisma he exuded.

"Valerie Romero. It's a pleasure to meet you, Derek," she replied, her voice steady but touched with a hint of her earlier awkwardness.

Cassidy playfully hit the young doctor's arm, her expression teasing as she looked back and forth between her and Rossi. "You have a lot of explaining to do, Val. A lot."

Before Valerie could respond, she caught Spencer's eye. His gaze was uncharacteristically intense, fixed on her with a quiet curiosity. The way his eyes lingered, unblinking, felt almost like a puzzle he was determined to solve, or perhaps, a question he was trying to understand. Valerie could feel the weight of his scrutiny, the quiet intelligence behind his piercing hazel eyes. It was as if she was a subject he wanted to analyze, to dissect, and that realization left her a bit unnerved. She shifted, just enough to glance at him from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge his reaction to her. But Spencer's expression remained as unreadable as ever, his attention still fixed firmly on her.

The moment was broken as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs. Hotch appeared at the bottom of the bullpen, his presence immediately shifting the atmosphere in the room. "We should reconvene in the conference room. We have our first case."