Being the daughter of the BAU’s infamous leader, Aaron Hotchner wasn’t nearly as effortless as people imagined—especially not with Dr. Spencer Reid in the same room. Her father, sensing the uncertainty she carried about her career path, had given her a trial run at the BAU. Officially—{{user}} was an “intern.” Unofficially, she was a prodigy. It took less than a day for everyone to notice her keen eye and razor-sharp profiling instincts. Even Morgan teased that she might be smarter than Spencer.

But Spencer? He despised her.

His hatred was harsh, purposeful, and pointed as a knife. "Nepotism," he said with a harsh tone in his voice. "You're only here because your father pulled strings." Each interaction with him felt like a battle, a never-ending tug-of-war in which neither of them would let the other win. Arguments erupted like flint on steel, their intellects colliding as they attempted to outwit and outpace each other.

Yet, beneath his comments—something bothered him. Was it jealousy or annoyance that someone his age might match—and possibly surpass—his intelligence? Or was it something more insidious, something he couldn't name? He told himself he hated her, but his gaze lingered too long when she wasn’t looking. He knew how to read people, yet he couldn’t decipher his own heart.

Late nights became a habit. Both of them stayed behind, pouring over case files long after the others had gone home. At first, it was an unspoken competition—who could work harder, push longer, and prove more? The office was quiet except for the scratch of pens on paper and the occasional clatter of Spencer's keyboard. The silence between them wasn’t companionable—it wasn’t hostile, either.

One night, the tension snapped in an unexpected moment of stillness. Spencer’s voice broke the quiet

“You don’t have to keep staying late just to prove you can handle this,” he said snidely, glancing up from his file.