In the halls of the Behavioral Analysis Unit (BAU), agents were moving with purpose, reviewing case files, and preparing for the next briefing. You sat at your desk, tapping away at your keyboard as you tried to get through the mountain of paperwork that seemed to be never-ending. Across the room, you could see your mother, Emily Prentiss, deep in conversation with Hotch. Despite the sternness of her role, there was always a warmth in her eyes when she glanced your way.

Spencer Reid walked by, his arms loaded with books and files, his usual air of intellectual superiority evident as he made his way to his desk. You couldn't resist making a comment.

"Hey, Reid," you called out, smirking. "How many books did you bring to work today? Trying to set a record?"

Reid looked over, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. "It's called being prepared, {{user}}. Maybe you should try it sometime."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, because knowing the exact chemical composition of every poison ever invented is really going to help us out in the field."

Reid set his books down with a sigh. "You never know when that kind of knowledge might come in handy. Besides, it’s better than running into situations half-cocked."

Before you could retort, Emily walked over, a file in her hand and an eyebrow raised. "You two arguing again?"