A/N: I love Munch... Munch is God... Oh, yeah, and I hear Jesus is pretty holy too... Please reveiw, pretty please?

Chapter Three

Munch's POV

As Lizzie sat perched on the edge of my partner's desk as she always was after school, chatting animatedly with Fin, I couldn't speak. Couldn't say anything. And, I've heard, that's a big thing for me.

I just felt so guilty. There was a sexual predator praying on kids at her school, and none of us had told her. We were supposed to be her friends, her protectors. Well, we were doing a hell of a job protecting her then.

"Whatcha workin' on, John?" she asked, sounding particularly cheery, and it pained me even more that I wasn't telling her. I knew she was just a little girl, but she was also more mature than everyone thought. Instead of saying all this, though, I looked at her over the rims of my glasses.

"Think about it, Liz," I said. "I'm a detective. You're in a squad room. What do you think I'm doing?"

She laughed, and it was so childlike, as if nothing had ever hurt her. She may be smart, I thought to myself, but she's naive and young, too.

"Munch, Fin, you talk to that Prescott girl, yet?" Cragen called from his office, and I wanted to smack him in the forehead. Of course, since he was my boss that might be considered a breech of authority, so I didn't. He had forgotten Lizzie was sitting right there, and that she might know Annie Prescott, considering she went to her school. Fin, however, didn't notice that fact either, and called back to him.

"We were waiting till school got out, Cap'n," he said. Cragen looked at his watch.

"Which was an hour ago," he informed us. "Go, now, please."

I raised my eyebrows at Fin and we both stood, grabbing our coats. Lizzie jumped off the desk and quickly stole Fin's seat.

"See you, guys," she called to us, and I gave her a little wave as we left. It wasn't until we stepped into the car that Fin spoke to me.

"Feelin' guilty, man?" he asked. I gave him a wry smile.

"Guilt? I don't know the meaning of the word," I lied, and we began the drive to the Prescott residence.

We knocked on the door of the dirty apartment. An African American teenage girl answered, and seeing us, she instantly shifted her weight onto one foot and put her hands on her hips.

"Whatchoo want, playa?" she asked, her voice filled with attitude. I gave Fin an amused smile, but his face stayed neutral.

"That's the first time I've been called that," I noted, mostly to fill the silence as I took out my badge. I showed it to the girl, whose face grew just a little bit more frightened. "I'm Detective Munch, this is Detective Tutuola. Are you Annie Prescott?"

"Yeah," she said, sizing us up with her eyes. "What do you care?"

"Remember those detectives you gave the notes to that last night?" Fin asked, copping the same attitude as Annie. I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes at his antics. We weren't there to play tough-guy.

"You ain't them," she noted. "Why are you here?"

"We're their partners," I said. "They wanted us to come talk to you."

"Figures," she said, turning around and walking away. She did, however, leave the door open, and I took it as an invitation to walk inside. Fin seemed to be thinking along the same lines, seeing as he followed me inside.

"What figures?" he asked, stepping into the messy living room.

"It figures that two white cops'll be too busy with a white girl ta come down an' deal wit' me," she said. She then looked to me. "Prolly had to give you a lota coaxin' ta come down here, huh?"

"Actually," I said, "I had to coax them not to."

Annie's face looked like she was trying not to show regret, but I knew she felt stupid for saying what she had. "Oh," was the only sound coming from her, and I took it as an apology.

"Look, we're just trying to help you, okay?" I said. "Can't we just be friends?"

She gave a harsh laugh. "You guys are going to investigate the guy that made me chicken head him, and you think we're gonna be pals, huh? You got a vivid imagination."

"So I've been told," I muttered, and Fin took over the conversation.

"How long ago was it that this guy hurt you?" he asked, and Annie looked up as if trying to remember.

"Um... bout a week ago," she answered after a moment. "I'm walkin' outta the school, right? An' this guy just came up behind me and pulled me into these bushes that are by the front doors. He's wearing a ski mask. He's all tryin' to act black, okay, but I know he's white."

"How did you know that?" Fin asked.

"You try to hard to be black, you're white," she informed us. "You can tell when somebody's layin' it on too thick."

"What happened next?" I interrupted, and she looked at me as if she wished I'd go away.

"Man said I was gonna get some extra credit, see," she told me. "I get all up in his grill, tell him off. I say, 'There's no way I'm giving you extra credit. This my body, right?'"

"What he do then?" Fin asked.

"Asshole smacks me!" she exclaimed. "I fall back into the ground and he says, 'You don't want to end up with a broken head, you gonna do what I say.' And I'm scared, right? So I do what he says."

"Which is...?" I ask, looking at her over the rims of my glasses.

"Which is give him head, ain't that what I jus' been sayin'?" she said, looking at me like I'm the biggest hick on the face of the planet. All I did was nod, and instantly feel more guilty.

"Sorry, Annie, we just needed you to say it," I said. "It's called getting a statement. We needed it spelled out for us. Sorry."

"Yeah, well," she said, looking uncomfortably at the floor, "you should be."

"Okay, Annie, are your parents home?" Fin asked, changing the subject, and I was greatful for that. I wasn't one to apologize, and if I did apologize, I didn't like the silence afterward to be prolonged.

"Parents?" Annie repeated, like she didn't know what that meant. "Man, you crazy. My 'rents are never home. They been gone for years. You wanna talk to someone? Talk to my sister, Jackie."

"Well, is your sister home?" I asked.

"No, she's at work," she said. "Why? You gonna tell her?"

"We're gonna have to," Fin explained. "We need to take you to the hospital, and then to the Police Station."

"Why? Why can't I just stay here?" Annie asked, looking between us worriedly.

"Because we need to check for STD's and get a final statement," I explained.

"But, I... we... didn't have sex, he just made me... you know..."

"It is possible to recieve a sexually transmitted disease from oral sex," I explained, in as much of a monotone as possible. She looked at me and her face was so young and frightened that she looked almost unrecognizable compared to the tough, street-wise girl that answered the door not fifteen minutes ago. Finally, she nodded.

"Okay," she said. "I'll come."

Fin smiled at her, and lead her out of the apartment. I stayed behind for a moment, just thinking about all the things we've seen, and wondering why I still wasn't used to explaining to a victim the dangers of sexual acts. I should have been used to it by then...

"You comin', or you want me to lock you in there?" called Annie from the door.

"I see you got the attitude back," I mused and she gave me a mischevious grin.

"Psht, it never went away!" she laughed, and I gave a slow sad nodd, but all I could think was, Yes... yes it did.