It was 11:30am on a Tuesday morning. The Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI had been gathered in their meeting room – an unfamiliar woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and brown eyes stood at the front of the room, her arms folded across her chest anxiously.

"Everyone," said Hotch, picking up a file from the table in front of him in the meeting room, "This is Agent Lola Greenwell. She'll be joining the team."

Waving awkwardly, Lola surveyed the room.

Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid looked between each other, seemingly surprised at this announcement.

Agent Rossi, however, held his hand out to the new girl. "Hi, Dave Rossi, nice to meet you. Welcome to the team."

Lola smiled at him and shook his hand. "Lovely to meet you too."

Garcia shook her head and jumped from her chair. "Yes of course where are my manners." She came over and took Lola's hand enthusiastically. "I'm Penelope, it's seriously great to meet you hun."

Reid, Jareau, Morgan and Prentiss all followed suit, coming over to shake her hand and greet her. Hotch stood by the screen, observing. Once everyone had been properly introduced, he coughed to get their attention.

"Agent Greenwell, I hope you don't mind us jumping head first into a case?"

Lola smiled. "Of course not, sir, if anything I'd be disappointed if we weren't."

Morgan chuckled. "Oh yeah, she'll fit in great here."

Grinning, Lola winked at Morgan, and then went over to sit in the vacant chair at the table.

"So," said Garcia, clicking on the screen. "Josh Penwood, a 23-year-old sports marketing manager was murdered in North Carolina yesterday. He was found by his neighbour Tammy after she came over to complain about his dog barking, then found the door unlocked and Josh very... well... Not alive."

She clicked the remote and the image of a wide-eyed young man, sitting and slumped forward on the dining table with a trickle of blood coming from his mouth, popped onto the screen. His skin was tinged with blue and lips were stained a darker pink than natural.

"Poison?" asked Prentiss, lifting an eyebrow.

"Mmhmm," said Garcia, clicking again and showing a closeup of an almost-empty wine glass that sat next to Josh's lifeless hand. "Local PD have already taken samples of whatever was in that glass and they're being tested for a variety of poisons."

Morgan shifted in his seat. "Why exactly have we been called in?"

"Because," Garcia said, "Of this."

Another image popped onto the screen. Lola had to stop herself from cringing as she stared at the words 'NICE TRY' carved in large gashes across Josh's chest.

"'Nice try'?" said Reid, biting his lip, thinking. "Is it a warning of some sort? A taunt maybe?"

"But why do something as subtle as poisoning if you're going to brutally mutilate his chest?" asked Jareau

"This is what we're not sure of yet," Hotch said, standing and opening one of the files he held. "Which is why we need to get to North Carolina as soon as possible so that we can find out what exactly was in that glass and why the Unsub felt the need to leave that message. Wheels up in 30."

With that, Hotch left the meeting room, and everyone else began to stand.

"Listen, when Hotch says 'Wheels up in 30', he really means 'wheels up in 5'," Morgan stage-whispered into Lola's ear, "So don't be fooled, we should probably get a move on."

Lola chuckled, "Thanks, I figured he was that type. I just have to run and grab a few things; I'll see you on the jet." She then left the room, wanting to get some last bits and pieces before they left.

As soon as she was out of earshot Derek, Emily, Penelope, Spencer and JJ all turned to Rossi accusatorily.

Rossi jerked his head back in surprise. "What? Can I help you all?"

"Did you know about this," said Emily, "About her?"

"Yeah," said JJ, crossing her arms, "I'm sure she's great but don't you think we should have been told we were getting a new member of the team?"

Penelope nodded. "I'm all for new people, god knows we need fresh brains in our little hell-corner of the world, but since when is it a thing that we do to just surprise everyone with a newbie?"

"Woah," said Rossi, putting his hands up in front of him, "Slow down, don't shoot. I did know, yes, but only a couple hours before the meeting. I think Hotch only had about a day's notice as well."

They shared confused glances.

"Surely they'd give more warning," said Morgan, "I mean Prentiss just appeared, but even Hotch didn't know about her."

Emily rolled her eyes, smirking.

"Listen," Rossi said, beginning to leave the room, "All I know is she's good and she's new – but she's a part of the team now so we've got to play nice. Deal?"

Everyone nodded, muttering, and they began to file out ready for the flight out to North Carolina.

"So," said Reid, closing his book and placing it gently on the arm of the plane seat, "Greenwell, why'd you join the FBI- and more importantly, how old are you?"

"Reid," JJ chastised, amused, "You can't ask a woman how old she is, it's not polite."

Lola only chuckled, turning properly in her seat to face the two of them.

"Well, no I wasn't trying to be rude," he said, "It's just that you look young, and I was wondering if I'm still the youngest on the team – actually to be more specific, how old were you when you were hired by the FBI?"

Morgan laughed. "What kid, you're afraid someone's overtaken you as the youngest FBI agent in history?"

Reid opened his mouth to protest but closed it, sheepish.

"I'm 30," said Lola, grinning, "And I was hired three years ago. So don't worry I'd say your record is safe Dr Reid, I think I'd be right in saying you were 22 when you joined the FBI?"

Prentiss raised her eyebrows, the corner of her lips turned upwards. "Someone's done their homework."

Lola blushed. "I mean of course I looked you all up, I wasn't going to join a team without knowing anything about you. Oh god," she said, ducking her head in embarrassment, "That sounded so stalker-ish."

"Only a little bit," said Rossi, smirking. "Don't worry about it, kid."

"Guys," said Garcia, popping up on the screen that sat on the wall of the jet, "Check this out – the tests for whatever was in that wineglass came back. There was a very expensive Merlot in there, like crazy expensive, but more importantly to us there was a significant amount of hemlock in the glass as well."

"Hemlock?" questioned Hotch, "That's a very specific poison to use, the Unsub had to have a purpose."

"It was said that hemlock was used to kill Socrates," said Reid, furrowing his brows, "He was sentenced to death for 'poisoning the minds' of the youth of Athens, they forced him to drink from a goblet spiked with hemlock – a while after drinking it his legs began to go numb and shortly after, he died."

"Could the Unsub have a similar goal?" asked Prentiss, "They could think they're doling out a deserved punishment to Josh for 'poisoning minds' of someone – maybe the message on his chest is a kind of angry revenge."

"Hemlock works internally – it paralyses your limbs and other body parts before finally paralysing your lungs, leading to death," Reid continued, still thinking hard, "But the most interesting part is that it doesn't affect your brain at all. Victims are totally conscious and aware of what's going on but unable to do anything until eventually they die."

"So, the Unsub wanted Josh to suffer," said Lola, "They wanted him to know he was dying, feel scared and alone."

"This is looking more and more like a revenge-motivated killing," said Hotch, turning to the screen on the wall. "Thank you, Garcia, be on stand-by – once we get to the site and know more about the scene, we'll hopefully have more to give you."

"Aye-aye captain," Garcia said, saluting, "See you lovelies later." And then her face blinked off the screen

"What?" said Lola, raising her eyebrows. They had made it to North Carolina – Hotch, Reid and Prentiss went to the scene while JJ, Rossi, Morgan and Lola went to the local police station to set up and go over the crime scene images they already had. Morgan had been staring at her, a crease between his eyebrows.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head, "Just thinking about how little I know about you."

Lola smirked. "Well, that could be because I only met you this morning. But fine, what do you want to know?"

Morgan cocked his head to the side. "Hmm. Okay, how about the question you never really answered on the jet – why did you join the FBI?"

"Alright," said Lola, nodding, "Nice question." She paused, thinking. "I mean, I guess if we trace it really far back its because of the cop shows I watched as a kid. All that action and adventure, it was too good to pass up."

Chuckling, Morgan perched on the corner of the desk that had the crime scene photos spread out on top of it. "Okay no, surely there's a deeper motive than that. C'mon, what's the real answer?"

Lola sighed. She really wanted these guys to like her, to trust her, but she wasn't sure about letting them know her whole life story, at least not yet. "Sure, okay. Well, ah... I wasn't exactly the most well-liked person ever in high school. I could never figure out the right thing to say, didn't understand people and how to be a normal teenager - I didn't really have a lot of friends. So, I guess, once I was given the chance, I wanted to know what makes people tick- how to figure them out, to know them better. And I wanted to be likeable, I figured saving and protecting people would be a good way to do that."

Morgan nodded, then crossed his arms across his chest. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news," he said, "But I'm not sure that becoming a cop and arresting people will make them like you very much."

Lola snorted. "Yeah well, my seventeen-year-old self hadn't thought about that part."

"Obviously not," he said, smirking.

A knock sounded on the door - it was Rossi.

"Guys," he said, "We've got to get a move on. Hotch says he wants us at the morgue to check out the body."

Morgan looked over and shared a glance with Lola, nodded and the two of them followed Rossi out of the police station.

Lola had been around dead bodies before, but nothing as violent as this. Josh was laying on the metal table in the middle of the room, a sheet around his waist. His skin was that too-grey colour of death, in stark contrast to the bright red gashes across his chest.

Morgan was peering close to the engraved words. "Were these post or ante-mortem?" he asked the ME.

"Ante," she said, walking closer beside him. She stretched out a gloved finger and hovered it over the 'N'. "You can see the blood in the wounds – he was alive the entire time they were being carved into him."

"Yikes," said Lola, unable to help herself, "Poor dude."

"The Unsub definitely wanted Josh to suffer," said Rossi, pacing around the body. "It takes a lot of anger to do this to a person, especially while they're still alive."

"A sociopath maybe?" Morgan suggests, "I mean, there's a lot of control here too, if it was just pure anger there'd be more violence to the body, but the only mutilation is on the chest. That seems pretty careful and driven."

"But," Lola chimed in, furrowing her brow, "Wouldn't a sociopath want to see their victim in the most pain possible? Why would the Unsub paralyse him first, when instead he could witness the victim pleading and writhing?"

"He could be small," said Rossi, "Or weak – the poison out of more necessity than anything else, maybe he wouldn't have been able to subdue Josh without it. But there's still something we're missing." He turned to the ME, "Is there any other forms of physical torture on the body, any more carvings?"

"There weren't any more carvings or signs of violence," the ME said, "But we did find dried residue of light blue nail polish near the wounds."

Morgan frowned. "Nail polish? Maybe we've got this all wrong, maybe this Unsub's a woman? We should get back to Hotch and the others, see if they learnt anything from the crime scene."

Lola nodded, Rossi thanked the ME and the three of them left to return to the station.

In the car on the way back to the station, Lola felt her phone buzz in her pocket. Pulling it out, she grinned when she saw the name 'Grant' displayed across the screen.

"Hey," she said, pulling the phone to her ear "What's up?"

"Hey yourself," Grant said, and she could hear his lopsided grin. "What, you become a part of the prestigious FBI club and suddenly you're too good to call your oldest and dearest pal?"

"Grant, it's been literally a day since I saw you, what the hell are you complaining about?" Lola chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah well some stupid loser misses his emotional support brunette. So, how's the team – any charming lady serial killers you want to hook me up with?"

"Grant!" she exclaimed between giggles, "Babe I love you but you really can't just call me while I'm in the middle of a case," she lowered her voice trying to avoid Rossi or Morgan in the front seats overhearing "I've got to at least try to make a good impression, it's my first day!"

"Fine, fine," he said, "You've got to tell me everything when you come back though – I can just imagine your midget-self busting down doors and interrogating people, I've gotta hear all about it."

"Don't worry," Lola said, "I won't spare you any details. Bye-bye now." And she hung up before he could drag any more conversation out of her.

Rossi and Morgan shared a glance. Morgan was smirking.

"What?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

"Who was that – a Mr Lola Greenwell perhaps?" said Morgan, and she could hear the amusement in his voice.

And then Lola burst out laughing— massive, heaving (and most likely very unattractive) chortles. Morgan's mouth opened in confusion.

"What? Hey c'mon what's so funny?"

"Morgan," she said, once she'd regained her breath. "You really haven't known me for that long, huh– I'm gay. Like very gay. Grant's my childhood friend, we live together."

"Oh," was all he said after a second, and for a moment Lola worried she'd just outed herself to people who were about to have a less than pleasant reaction, which would make things very uncomfortable for the rest of the case.

Her eyebrows creased and she looked between Morgan and Rossi, trying to gauge their reactions. It was only silent for a couple of seconds at the most, but it felt like an eternity. And then Morgan's face split into a smile, and she let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"But c'mon, you called him babe? Was that really such a hard conclusion to come to?"

Rossi scoffed. "That's rich, coming from you Mr 'Baby-Girl'."

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah okay, I see your point. Is there a Mrs Lola Greenwell then?"

"Unfortunately, not yet," said Lola, sighing dramatically, "But you never know."

"Hey, maybe Rossi can loan you one of his ex-wives," he said, grinning, "One of them is bound to be a lesbian after being married to him for however long."

Lola snorted and covered her mouth trying not to laugh too hard.

"Watch it Derek Morgan," Rossi said, unable to keep the smile out of his voice, "I'm the one driving the car here, I will not hesitate to swerve."