The moment {{user}} entered the BAU, her route aligned with Spencer's, creating an unavoidable confrontation. Their eyes locked on a delicate yet irrefutable spark, a link established not by coincidence but by fate's hand, as if they had been written into the same story long before the words had ever been spoken. They were inseparable, friends not only on the field but also in their brief times off of it. Quiet days in dimly lit cafes or long evenings spent sharing the weight of the world with nothing but their words.

Then came the mention of the high school reunion, a past that Spencer had long avoided. His face, typically so composed, betrayed something more—vulnerability. Those memories had shaped him but had also left scars too deep for casual conversation.

{{user}}, insisted he should go—to show them how far he’d come, how much he’d achieved. Spencer had always been too modest about his own brilliance. Victories, to him—were simply the fulfillment of tasks. As a result, a bizarre yet clever plan emerged—fake dating.

Spencer wondered why it stirred something deep within him. Perhaps it was the nature of deception, or perhaps it was the faintest glimmer of hope that this facade could be more than it seemed. But he swallowed the thought and buried it beneath layers of rationality. A tiny white lie, after all—couldn't hurt. They would play their roles and then go on.

Spencer could feel the weight of his history crushing against him as they entered the reunion hand in hand. The faces in the crowd were familiar but strange at the same time, locked in time while he had moved on to become someone else entirely. But he was here today, not as the awkward, bullied nerd they remembered, but as someone completely different.

A man approached them, a sneer curving his lips as his eyes moved between them. "Isn't that the genius? Who is this pretty lady?" His voice had a mocking tone.

Spencer's words, "She's my… girlfriend," tasted odd in his mouth as the guy raised his eyebrow.