A/N: Okay, so the only real reason I've put this out there is because of my dear friend, CherryBlossomSpring, who insisted I do so... I hope you find my fanfiction worth the trouble of reading!

Basic Science

The girl smiled at her hand-made model after testing out a button that turned on all the lights and electrical equipment she'd wired into it. The remote in her hand feeling rather light (Though she had been holding it for about fifteen minutes or so...).

It was a approximately 1 meter by 1 meter, and was a display of a simple town with a dam nearby. The wooden (or popsicle stick) houses were all lined up, each having little wires attaching them to little electrical poles. The were all an equal distance from the hand drawn road. The dam was off to the furthest right hand corner, and the entire model had a river (with real water!) swivering around it, giving on-lookers the feeling that they were staring down on a simple town.

Of course, it wasn't the fact that lights came on when she simply pushed a button, no! It was what happened after she pushed a few other buttons, and then that button. Simple! So long as you pushed the correct buttons... and because of her talent of hooking things up and pushing certain buttons, she was now standing in a building that seriously needed air conditioning and was surrounded by a bunch of high school nerds who thought they were all so brilliant. Hah! As if half of them had the same basic theory behind all of their projects.

Unfortuanetly, she couldn't prove her projects superiority until the judging began, or else she might completely ruin her chances of winning. And that was something she would not tolerate! This was a regional science fair! How could she simply fail something so simple?

Then, being merely only eight years old and having little to no self-esteem, really didn't help her. Nor did the fact the everyone insisted on staring at her once they realized she was even there. Was the girl shy? Very. Did the staring annoy her? Yes. Yes, it did.

It was merely too obvious how much the young girl stood out. Even in this group of geeks/ nerds/ 'smart' kids. Her flowing dark red hair came down to cover most of her face, (which was really the only feature of herself she was proud of), but of course, her glasses (being big, black rimmed, steorotypical 'nerd' glasses) had to peek out of the cascading hair. And that made it near impossible for people to miss eyes.

Her eyes were larger than average, and where rather different than most in colour. The main colour was a brown-ish grey with specks of bright peridot green. But that wasn't the interesting part. Surrounding her abnormally large pupils, and irirs's was a rather starnge, but pretty, deep blue. Like a tanzanite gemstone. Anyone who wasn't scared away by her anti-social and rather odd personality admitted to finding her eyes rather beautiful. She disagreed with them.

She hated her eyes.

Not only did they constantly reminded her how weird and unusual she was, but it also made people either want to get to know the strange girl, or look at her like she were on display. Like her project.

She hated that feeling. Knowing she was different was perfectly fine. But when people simply stood there, staring at her. It made her extremely angry. Even though she never showed it. That was something she learned never to do a while ago. If your emotions didn't get the best of you, some one would use them against you. So really, either way you'd be screwed.

So pretty standard advice, right? Nope. Not when you've recived it the hard way.

The short ginger shivered at the remembrence.

"What's a little kid like you do' in in a big kid place like this?" An older boy sneered at her, pulling her out of her thinking trance (which was really just her standing there staring down at her project).

The girl was minorly startled by the question. Not because of what they had said, but because they had said it. Who would even bother talking to her?

She looked up at the teen male, blinking at him through her hair and glasses. Pointing to her model she replied. "I'm in the science fair." Was all she said, studying the boy as if she were about to disect him like a dead frog.

He was most likely 15 by his height and attempt to sound like some important young adult, but failing due to his slightly high pitched voice. His hair was blond and brushed (or perhaps combed) back, but a single strand hung out of place over his left eye. He had a dark peachy colored skin. She immediatly deducted that he wasn't from this country.

One: accent

Was the first one not enough?

Though his hair gave him a sophisticated look, once you looked at his clothing, all his 'sophistication' was tossed in the bin. He wore a simple navy blue shirt underneath a average costing jean jacket. He had simple dark blue jeans that looked a little rugged around the knees, and a pair of... airwalk sneakers.

An average look, for an average teen.

"No shit. Jes, i forgot how stupid you little brats are." The teen laughed.

The girl wasn't amused at all. His language was foul, he had no respect, and was probably as smart as a soggy busicut. For shame! picking on a little girl five times as smart as you.

She probably would have voiced her much more mature thoughts, if not for the signal that the judging was beginning. It was honestly about time!

The young girl was the last to present to the judges. Which she didn't mind at all, except that meant everyone would be focusing their attention on her. And by 'focus' meaning, everyone was gawking at her like she was a freak show there for there own entertainment.

Being anti-social and coy, she wasn't one for crowds, nor being the reason for the crowd.

Pushing her glasses back up on the bridge of her nose, she swallowed, going over her speech in her head. She knew her topic. In fact, she probably knew it better than the two people staring down at her ffrom an upstairs window...

Robert Munroe was a tall, lanky man with mousy brown hair and squinty eyes that were not hiden at all by his thin rimmed glasses that sat practically on the edge of his nose. He was also high up in the British Anti-Terrorist Department. Which confused some due to his knack of over-exaggerating simple situations.

Mara, a short, plump, dark haired woman stood beside him as his assistant/ secretary and good friend. Of course, neither had ever considered taking their relatonship to the next level.

"Sir, are you sure you're not over-reacting?" Mara asked him, clutching a clip-board to her chest.

"I haven't got the slightest clue, but if an eight year old child has managed to figure this out, whats stopping a group of fully grown, educated men and women, from figuring something just as bad out?" Munroe asked her, realising a long sigh, running a shaky hand threw his hair in irritation, not taking his eyes off the seemingly innocent ginger haired child.

Mara bit her lip, unsure if it was a rhetorical question or not.

Munroe sighed again, finally looking away and letting his hand drop back down to his side. "Never mind. We simply need to find out how this child came across this. And we also need to find out who she is... God! For all we know any one of those people could be apart of some bloody terroriest group!"

His assistant nodded, scribbling notes down on her board. "Will that be all?"

He nearly laughed out how she sounded so much like some waitress you'd find in some local cafe. "Yes, thank you, Mara... just find out everything you can on that girl. No matter how insignificant it may seem." He paused, considering something else.

"Sir?" Mara asked, pausing in mid note.

"See if you can get a hold of Whammy... He might be interested in this..."