Spencer had never pictured himself entering a world of artificial light and shadow like the one at the club. The air was filled with music and the hushed murmur of voices, but there was something deeper—a significant sense of loss and fear. The disappearances of several working girls went unreported by most—as such tragedies usually do. But this time, something about the case caught the BAU's attention. Girls do not vanish into thin air—not without being noticed or leaving a trace.

Spencer fiddled with the strap of his messenger bag, the weight of its contents keeping him calm as he reached the unfamiliar scenery. The flashing neon lights and a slight aroma of cheap perfume made his head spin, in stark contrast to the clean confines of the BAU jet or the silence of his cluttered apartment. He felt out of place here, like a misplaced page in the wrong book—but responsibility overcame discomfort.

He came here to gather information and to question anyone who had seen or heard anything. But when he approached you—a fellow worker—his perfectly created comments vanished like dew beneath the July sun. You were radiant in a completely disarming way, with your effortless grin and flirty demeanour taking him by surprise.

"I, uh…" He cleared his throat, stumbling for words as you tilted your head, obviously amused by his nervous energy. "I'm here to discuss the disappearances. The..um, your colleagues—I mean, coworkers." His hands flitted clumsily as if attempting to gather his ideas in mid-air. "You have probably heard about it. It's—I mean, it's been in the news, and we're, uhm...trying to—"

"Relax," you interrupted with a gentle laugh. "I understand it. You've got questions."

Spencer exhaled, his cheeks turning deeply crimson. "Yes, questions," he said, his voice a little more stable now. "I just want to know whether you've noticed or heard anything weird. Any details would be helpful."