Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
24 hours later. A school corridor sometime around noon, empty except for a group of official looking people, guided along by a rather nervous looking principal.
"I have to say, your visit came quite unexpectedly, superintendent." The principal hoped his shirt didn't show any sweat stains. Superintendent Cramer himself! Oh, he was so screwed.
"Well, parents have been complaining… one chemistry class in particular was mentioned again and again. Lack of discipline, teacher can't assert himself… That's the class we'd like to visit first."
The principal could literally feel his shirt soak through. "That's Mr. Fontainebleu's class you're talking about. He's chaperoning a school trip this week and his substitute took over only just today."
Fontainebleus's newest substitute, he silently added. That class with those brats straight from hell had sent two substitute teachers running so far. "As you of course know, it does take time to gain student's acceptance…"
"Good teachers win their students' hearts by storm with their love for the subject."
Oh boy, when had that man last actually stood in front of a class and tried to teach the beasts something? They had arrived at the chemistry classroom now. The principal expected a madhouse. To his great surprise no sounds of turmoil were coming through the door. He knocked curtly, opened it and was met with... silence!
Complete, utter silence.
It was unbelievable, all students, even the jocks from the back row were sitting at their respective tables, back straight, pen in hand, face turned towards the teacher.
The teacher.
He was surprisingly short in build and looked rather gaunt, especially his face. The principal felt reminded of a rat or a ferret, but there was something about him, a certain air he couldn't quite pinpoint, that invoked images of animals far more dangerous.
But the students were silent, so what?
"We were just about to prepare an experiment on fossil fuels. These are all young drivers here, figured it might be interesting for them to determine which is the cleanest burning", Guerrero explained to the unexpected visitors. "Chastity, could you tell us the difference between alkenes and alkanes?"
Chastity Burke's face was one big question mark. "Alkenes are… uh-oh…"
"According to Mr. Fontainebleu's notes you talked about them as recently as last week", Guerrero pointed out.
At this very moment, the new girl that had, much to Chastity's chagrin, been seated right next to her, slightly shifted her hand and revealed a piece of paper with keywords.
"Alkenes are much more reactive than alkanes because alkenes are saturated", Chastity slowly began. The new girl kicked her underneath the table. "Unsaturated, I mean." Her eyes darted to the piece of paper again. "An alkene can't…" another kick "…CAN be distinguished from an alkane by shaking the hydro… hydro…" Damn, what was the word? The girl scribbled it down in larger letters. Thank God Gordon Peters was sitting in front of her, so the teacher and the people from the school board couldn't see what she was doing. "…the hydrocarbon with bromine water."
Guerrero nodded thoughtfully. Very interesting answer.
A couple of minutes later the superintendent, his entourage and the principal left again. "Is it just me or did the students look a bit scared?", one of the superintendent's assistant remarked.
"Concentrated", the principal quickly corrected him. "They looked concentrated."
… … …
The warehouse at the same time.
"Dude, no one would believe you in any kind of teaching role", Guerrero had said as they had layed out the plan for today's operation, as per usual not mincing words.
"They need a chemistry teacher, Winston", Chance had tried to calm the waves. "Guerrero's knowledge in that field is quite expansive."
Naturally, Winston was annoyed nevertheless: "So if surveillance from the van isn't necessary, Ames is posing as a new student and Chance as a janitor, what does that leave for me to do?
At that, an evil grin had started spreading across Guerrero's face. "I suggest you fulfill your promise to Mr. Burke and take a look at the evidence, CSI Winston. "
So now Winston was standing in the office's kitchen with a field surgery kit borrowed from Guerrero and doing exactly that: Looking at the evidence, aka the Burke's untimely deceased cat Fluffy.
Or what was left of it.
The carcass was in pretty bad shape, a mess of sandy colored fur, gaping wounds and curdled blood. A tiny microchip, the size of a grain of rice, stuck out of one of the wounds. Winston sighed and retrieved it with a pair of pincers. The animal must have meant a lot to the Burkes if they had gone through the trouble of chipping it. To be honest, he had no idea what to do with the cadaver. But he had made a promise. Maybe he could somehow establish if the nailing had happened postmortem? It could be a scrap of comfort for the Burkes.
He cautiously turned the cadaver around. Ugh, it was cut open so deeply, the intestines were clearly visible.
Hang on a sec.
Winston put on his glasses.
Wasn't that…?
… … …
Back in the school. Recess.
Janitors can go practically everywhere without raising suspicion. Most people don't even realize they're there. They just look right through them. No surprise janitor was one of the roles Chance used most back when he was called Junior, and even in his new life he played the part quite often.
The first thing Chance had done after getting hold of the building's skeleton key was a quick check of the school's less frequently used rooms, especially card rooms and storage rooms, hoping to find the stalker's hoard. All the stuff that had been stolen from Chastity must have gone somewhere and with the security checks at the school entrances and exits, the stalker probably wouldn't have wanted to take the risk to get caught with it, especially not with the bag containing Chastity's cheerleader uniform.
What Chance actually found, however, was a place of retreat. Judging from the look of the corner behind the oversized map of the United States, this spot was regularly visited: It was furnished with pillows, a lamp, books…. He had seen something like that before, during a case, years ago. A young boy had been bullied by his classmates and he had created a safe haven for himself right inside the school.
Out of curiosity and maybe on a hunch, Chance came back every hour, hoping to meet the occupant. She showed up during recess.
"Wouldn't it be easier to read in the library?", he asked, careful not to scare her. She looked at him with pale blue eyes behind huge glasses. Her skin was unnaturally white with lots of zits, her choice of clothes was not really odd but slightly off the mark, her hair was dull and dry.
Yes, she looked like a bullying victim.
"Or the cafeteria? I've heard it's Cookie Thursday."
She shook her head. "Don't feel like eating. React allergic on practically everything anyway – dairy goods, pollen, furry pets… Just name it and I have a rash break out."
"And all the other people…"
"Yeah, all the other people…"
This was one of the many moments when Chance's good looks really came in handy. People tend to trust good-looking people more than scruffy ones and the girl was no exception. His smile, his totally non-threatening body language put her at ease and she relaxed a little. Nevertheless there was an almost palpable air of sadness surrounding her. Chance looked around. The space behind the map was equipped quite well. Amazing that no one had discovered her so far. "Who is usually sitting on the other cushion? Are you waiting for someone?"
The girl shook her head. "Sophie isn't coming. She's in hospital." Tears slowly started running down her face.
Chance rummaged in his pocket and brought out a handkerchief. "Would you like to tell me what happened?"
The girl choked on her sobs. "She tried to kill herself."
He sat with her for more than half an hour. She cried her heart out, told him everything about Sophie, the sad story how her father died in Iraq, how she and her mother were barely making ends meet, how she was the only real friend she'd ever had…
The one thing she didn't tell him, however, was why Sophie had tried to kill herself.
… … …
After recess. The school corridor, now populated with students.
"There are people you want to be with and people you don't want to be with", Chastity told Ames. She had obviously decided to initiate her into the finer workings of the school's social stratums, as a way of saying thank you for her help during chemistry class. "Some people so totally ruin your reputation." Her entourage, a group of about half a dozen girls Ames found really hard to tell apart, agreed in unison.
"Well said, Chastity", a girl with shoulder length dark brown hair they just happened to pass by, said.
"You've got a problem, Eve?", Chastity snarled.
Eve, who was in the process of removing the blouse she was wearing above her T-shirt (the temperatures had risen significantly since morning), didn't even bother to look at her. "All I'm saying is that I completely agree with you." She stuffed her blouse into her locker. "There are people you want to be with and you don't want to be with."
The last sentence was clearly directed at Ames.
"And I bet Kelly and Sophie would totally agree with you, too."
"Prove that I played that little joke on Kelly and we can talk again."
"Proof or no proof, you mixed real milk into her lactose free shake. She had to be taken to hospital with an anaphylactic shock, one day before she was supposed to go out with Gordon Peters." Eve was facing Chastity directly now. "And I don't even want to know what you did to Sophie for her to react like that!"
Chastity's face paled a little, but really only a little. "Sophie brought all that upon herself."
As Eve walked off, Ames' mobile phone signaled. Good job reading up on hydrocarbons. G.
Praise from Guerrero!
Normally Ames would have jumped up and down with excitement and vowed never to delete that message. But at this very moment, her happiness was drowned out by a long lost or, more correctly, long thrust aside, memory. She had heard the phrase "There are people you want to be with and people you don't want to be with" before.
Spoken by her own voice.
A/N: Thank you, Dreaming Sio, for your fast help! another-all-nighter: It makes me incredibly happy to hear that people enjoy what I write!