At Megan and Joshua's school, Elliot and I walked in to be greeted by an older woman. She seemed timid and fragile. She had grey, curly hair and watery blue eyes, and she sat behind a huge, mahogany desk that made her seem even smaller than she was.

"Hello there, welcome to the school. How may I help?" she asked with a thin smile.

"We're detectives from the Special Victims Unit," Elliot showed her his badge, as I showed her mine. "We're here about an issue with a student called Megan Kent?"

"Oh, such a nice girl," the receptionist smiled. "What's happened?"

"Well, I'm afraid we can't discuss that with you, Ma'am, but we'd like to ask you a few questions if that would be alright," I stated.

"Oh, yes, sure, anything to help the police," she nodded.

"Great. Would you be able to tell me which class Megan Kent is in at the moment?" I queried.

"Yes," the receptionist nodded, typing something into the computer, her fingers moving agonisingly slow. Elliot and I glanced at each other, giving one another a look of 'this may take a while'. We really could read each other like a book. That came with working together every day for years. It was one of the things I think we both enjoyed - not having to explain and talk to each other all the time. We could say so much with just one look. I guess that might have been a little weird to some people. We had this connection on a deeper level than most co-workers had.

As I got lost in my own little world, the woman continued to type, and then she waited for a moment before reading out, "She's in Art class with Mr Scott. Top floor, the door at the very end of the corridor."

Elliot and I looked at each other again. I fought the urge to slap him, as I knew that he wanted me to go and find the kid. He did that I lot - he probably did it just to bug me, knowing him.It wasn't obvious, but he consciously tried to annoy me with little things, and more often than not, it worked. Really well.

I nodded and stalked up to the classroom, walking into the class to see a man standing at the front of the room, speaking to the students in a deep, slightly gravelly, Scottish accent that seemed so out of place in this room. He was about 5ft 9, small for a man. He was quite slim, and was wearing a lilac shirt with dark purple tie. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and a good tan.

I thought he seemed like the kind of guy who you wouldn't be too shocked if he actually was persuing a relationship with a pupil. To me, the way he stood, the way he spoke, it just kind of oozed self-confidence. Too much self-confidence if you asked me. He knew that he was a good-looking guy, and he used that to play games with people. I had seen this type of man too much. At first, when I'd been younger, I used to enjoy getting wrapped up in their games. I used to let myself run away with my fantasies and let myself believe that they actually cared, but after a few of them, I got bored. It was always the same. Romance you for a little while, just until they've had enough to last them for a while, then they left you, broken hearted. Now I just steered clear of guys, because it seemed it was only that kind I was attracted to. Of course, not including Elliot...

He looked up at me as I knocked on the open door. "Hello. How can I help?"

"Are you Mr Scott, sir?" I asked.

"I am indeed. Who am I speaking to?" he smiled.

"Detective Benson, Special Victims Unit," I showed him my badge.

"Oh, well, detective, anything I can do to help, I will," he nodded.

"Well, right now I'd like to speak to Megan Kent, but I'd also like to have a word with you later on, Mr Scott," I nodded, and he glanced at one of the students sitting at the very front of the class. I saw her glance back up at him, and he nodded discreetly, obviously thinking I didn't see.

The girl got up and followed me out of the room, into the empty one next door. We sat down and I got a chance to have a good look at her. She looked like her mother. Tall, with piercing blue eyes and straight black hair, but she had more of a tan than her mother, and there was something about her I just did not like. I got that sometimes, but then again, didn't everyone? I suppose, being a Detective, I probably wasn't meant to, but I just couldn't help it. You sat down with someone, and the first impression wasn't too good. From this one, I got the feeling that she was in love with herself more than any teacher she might have been dating.

"What's this about?" she asked. She had a very annoying voice, and I could just tell she was one of the 'popular' girls. That was another thing I hated. The popular girls. I had never been one myself. But then, I guess, I couldn't have been. All the popular kids had big houses and rich families. I had a drunken mother. That wasn't a good start to being popular. I guess I wouldn't have had time to be popular either. I was always too busy trying to make my Mom love me. To stop her from drinking and hurting us.

"Your Mom called us," I stated.

"About what?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. It was if she had several things that could have gone wrong, and she wasn't sure which one I was talking about.

"Well, apparently you're in a relationship with your art teacher," I stated.

"Mr Scott?" the girl laughed loudly, and fakely. "No way."

"Why not?" I queried. "Don't you find him attractive?"

"What, do you mean do I have a crush on him?" Megan grinned, and I nodded. "Are you kidding?! Of course I do. Half of the girls at this school do. Come one. The guy's Scottish - different accent is automatically attractive."

See, I didn't agree with that, and I didn't understand teacher crushed either. I'd never crushed on any of my teachers at school. I'd never even found one attractive. I guess I was saving up all that attraction to unavailable unsuitable guys till I grew up.

"How old are you, Megan?" I asked.

"15 next month, why?" she shrugged.

"I was just wondering," I said. "Do you think that Mr Scott finds you attractive?"

The girl laughed, tipping her head back. "I dunno. Maybe. Lots of guys do. Younger, older, same age... I dunno. You'd have to ask him."

"Okay, well, I think I'll do just that," I nodded. "Why don't you go back in and I'll speak to him in a few minutes, okay?"

"Whatever," she shrugged, scraping her chair along the floor and floating out the door.

I sat back in my seat and let out a sigh. Yes, I was investigating a case where she was supposedly the victim, but god, she was annoying. She had that high-pitched, girly, put-on voice. She was gorgeous, and she knew it. She was probably doing many illegal things, and god knew I wanted to charge her with something, just to wipe that stupid smile off her face.

Hopefully this was a bit of a better chapter. I know it's still not really long, but that's not my style.

Anyhoo. Reviews plz!! x