Emily would compare her to a whirlwind, but that was too violent. Too uncontrolled.
She had first met Dr. Jane Hart nearly a full two days after her paperwork was officially accepted by Agent Hotchner, and it wasn't orthodox by any means.
They hadn't any cases yet, but Agent Jareau - JJ - was showing Emily the ropes, making sure she knew their protocols and who does what and what goes where. Because of that there was no reason to gather as a whole, so everyone was introduced on the fly. First JJ, then their Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia, in her full colorful enthusiasm, and then Dr. Reid, who was both walking oxymoron and encyclopedia, it seemed. When Emily finally met Dr. Hart, she was just finishing the rest of her paperwork while perched on the edge of her desk.
There was no way to describe her. When the woman first walked in, Emily had thought that she was a local detective or a consultant. She was dressed professionally, yes, but not like JJ did or even like Garcia. JJ was formal and clean, designed to look credible and trusting yet still professional and attractive. Garcia was all dresses and heels and color, but everything was of good quality and fashionable, however odd.
Black long sleeve turtleneck tucked into the black belt on her black slacks tucked into black boots; thick black hair tied messily up into a haphazard knot on the back of her head. Yet the excess of the pigment wasn't goth or punk by any means, just dark. Excluding her olive skin tone, the only spot of color on her was a suit vest in a dark burgundy that looked like it had seen far better days worn over her shirt like an afterthought. Slung across her shoulder was a black satchel and clutched in her hands - covered in black fingerless gloves which exposed her black glossy fingernails - was a clipboard she was rapidly writing on, weaving through the desks and agents expertly, headed their way.
Stopping right in front of Emily.
"This is your medical form." The woman had stated without prompting or introduction - shoving the clipboard into Emily's hands before she could even fully put her paperwork down. Her voice was somehow flatter and less emotional than even Agent Hotchner's. "You need to fill this out completely before you can enter the field. This -" she continued, reaching over to flip to a later page in the deceptively thick pile, "- is about your mandatory physical evaluation. This must be completed before your first month in our department has been completed. You may either use a doctor of your choice, a Bureau certified medic, or myself. If you choose to use a doctor of your own they must be vetted for quality so you'll contact me -" reaching over again, pointing out a yellow sticky note "- using the first email address. If not, use the second number or email to schedule an appointment with either me or another doctor of the selection here."
Stunned and baffled, Emily could only watch as the woman pulled a pen and pad of paper out of her satchel and scribbled something before tearing the sheet free and passing it over. "These are where you can submit these forms. Also: any injuries in the field must be checked out, no exceptions. I have the authority to pull you from the field immediately, mid-case if need be, to ensure the health of my patients and colleagues. Any questions can be directed either to me or Agents Hotchner or Gideon. Any pressing?"
Emily gaped unattractively and rather fish-like for a minute there as the woman waited neutrally for her to get her bearings. She gathered herself, glanced down at the clipboard and steno sheet she'd been gripping tightly, and back up at the woman.
"Who are you?" Emily asks once she finds her voice, trying to keep the confusion and surprise out of her voice. "I'm sorry, that was rude. But you never introduced herself."
'Great job, Emily.' She scolded herself internally. 'Insult a senior agent or doctor or whoever she is the first time you meet them.'
"Apologies," The woman stated with no inflection. "Dr. Hart. They call me Jane."
And then with the same measured control, she turned on her heel and Hurricane Hart left the bullpen.
Emily turned around slowly at the sound of Reid's poorly contained laughter at her expense - not even realizing that he had been behind her the entire time.
"Oh laugh it up, Reid. Laugh. It. Up."
