"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand in rapt awe, is as good as dead. His eyes are closed." -- Albert Einstein

It wasn't like one of those usual old mornings. It was like nothing that had ever been in Quantico history. The rain was pouring down outside, a thunderous noise as raindrops rammed the pavement, a stack of cases on JJ's desk as she sifted through them; paperwork on Emily, Derek and Spencer's desks, paperwork that seemed sky high; a small cup of untouched coffee on the edge of Rossi's desk, the steam wafting out the cracked open window; a spread out case that had just been solved being looked over on Hotch's desk; and Garcia at her computer, typing rapidly on her keyboard keys. All seemed silent and casual, and only Hotch knew of what chaos that was to rise through the doorway in just moments.

To her, the day was brand new , exciting and an opportunity for greatness, however the morning had not started out well. With car lying dead in the center of her driveway, she had to rely on her rollerblades to get her to her first day of work. Upon her travels, she hit a crack in the pavement and face-planted the sidewalk, scraping her forehead and chin and bruising her cheek. She was soaking wet with a busted wheel, yet still rolled into the building, swinging her backpack onto the floor to change into her sneakers. She pulled her wet hair into a ponytail with a yellow fuzzy pipe cleaner, tied it tight, and attempted to shake herself dry before quietly traipsing into the main room, spotting a collection of desks and well arranged offices and rooms.

She stopped in plain sight of everyone, though no one quite spotted her. Her initial instincts were to pick out the alpha and approach them. However, as she aimed for Derek, she was sidetracked by bumping into Spencer and spilling his papers. "Oh! Geez, I'm sorry!" She knelt down and began picking them up, noticing the order they were in and filing them in her hands. "I didn't mean to, I was looking for Agent Hotchner."

Spencer eyeballed her for a second, carefully examining her face. She had bulbous green eyes, brown hair that looked black in the rain and a crooked grin. And scrapes. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Why?" He then gestured to her face. "Oh, yeah, I fell. On my rollerblades. I'm fine."

"All right." He still eyed her cautiously. "Agent Hotchner is the first office on the left." He pointed up a small set of stairs. She veered away from him and felt her face, trying to decipher if her face did look really bad, like he had implied. She didn't quite think about what she was doing when she burst into his office.

"Oh! Sorry," She looked at the door and then to him, though he had only taken his eyes off of the solved case for a mere moment. "That was rude of me, not to knock."

"You're Ruth Eve, I assume." He sat up and took the time to look her over. For all her resume made claims to, she certainly didn't look or come off as a genius prodigy child. "It's an honor to have you."

"Oh. Thanks." Ruth looked rather uneasy as she examined his office slowly. "It's good to meet you, I've heard good things."

"From who?"

Ruth stared at him, and then wrinkled her nose. "I meant read."

"I'm sorry if I imply something, but I feel the need to ask. Are you all your resume said you were? You don't seem to be the kind of person who graduated from Yale at sixteen, after two years. Harvard after four. Medical school and law school after two…" Hotch watched her nodding along with him. "I've heard of you, many times. You always come off as a genius, as you are, and with your reputation… I'm just not sure how to react."

"It's okay. I get this all the time. I am a genius, really, I'm just the dumbest genius you will ever meet." She said, still a wide grin on her face. "I don't make great first impressions, I'm very clumsy, I usually insult people accidentally. I suppose in a roundabout kind of way, I just know too much."

Hotch didn't say anything. He simply watched her carefully as she fidgeted and felt her face, one again. "Is it really bad?" She finally asked, a semi-worried look on her face. "I hit a pothole on my rollerblades on the way in."

Hotch just shook his head and stood up. "It's fine, Dr. Eve."

"Ruth, please!" Ruth shot up quickly. "I much prefer Ruth."

"Call me Hotch… or Hotchner, whichever you prefer."

"Hotch. Nice. It sounds like something out of Miami Vice!" Ruth laughed, and Hotch eyeballed her again. "Really, honestly, I am a genius. I promise."

REG:

I'm not hugely adept to writing Criminal Minds. I tried my best, and wouldn't have done so had this idea not bestilled my brain.