For the first time she began to feel the thrill in the situation. It was wrong, taboo, forbidden - and plenty of other synonyms too. But there was something about that that made it so much more sweet, was there? The knowledge that there was so much judgement - but in the moments when they were together, it didn't matter. It was fun, she was enjoying herself - so what was the harm, it wasn't hurting anybody. Sure, it'd all escalated very fast from legging it away from him on the footpath - and she'd had input from the vigilant Mr. Holmes that Jim was involved in something criminal, and despite his magnetic mystery he was still unsettling. She wasn't sure, now that she thought about it, why exactly she felt this way - this way being: confused, intrigued and curious. But he appealed to her, flaws, red flags and all.

She thought about everything as she walked home that day, everything, everything, and anything inbetween. The reflection really helped her get that clarity of thought she needed. And now that she'd established that she was still curious about Jim and not quite ready to run screaming to faculty - she felt better. Regan walked inside, up the stairs, and produced that brilliant red book. She flipped eagerly to the dog eared page.

In response to her complaints about him vandalising school property, he'd written: "Good point, dear - if it was actually school property. It's my personal copy, you didn't think I'd give you one of those grubby school ones did you?"

She smiled. Admittedly, like an idiot, but she didn't really care. Of course, at this point she couldn't possibly tell if his interest was one of playing with the fact that he was attractive enough to lure a naive schoolgirl to downfall, or maybe just playing with her feelings altogether. But there was that chance that his feelings were ones he couldn't control - and wasn't trying to. Where a normal man would recognise his feelings and do everything in his power to ignore and eliminate them before he was labelled something colourful - Jim might've recognised his feelings and decided that they weren't worthwhile denying. At least, that's what she hoped. She wasn't a fan of the idea of being played, and of course - hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

But that didn't matter right now. She simply scrawled in, "I hadn't considered it. Are you sure you don't want this back between classes - who knows, it might get ruined." She couldn't be riskier, but at least this way if the book was picked up by someone it wouldn't seem weird. At least, not on her half.

The following day, she walked in to class to a normal arrangement. It seemed as though everyone had already forgotten about her indiscretions, even Kate was waving her over to the middle row to sit with her. Regan smiled. Not because of Kate, although she was for once a welcome presence, but because she knew Jim had his eyes on her. Regan sashayed over to the desk next to Kate and put her things down. She tilted her head down to scratch her hair line, and looked up at Mr. Moriarty from under her lashes. He had his fingers tented on his lips, leaning back with legs crossed, and met her eyes. She risked it, and gave him a little knowing smirk - which he reciprocated.

Kate turned in her seat. "You got a date yet?"

Regan looked up. "Er..."

"For the dance?" Kate rolled her eyes.

"When is the-"

"Sunday."

"Oh."

"I can't believe you don't know, Regan!" Kate shrieked.

Regan could clearly feeling Mr. Moriarty's intent gaze, even as more students poured into class. "Well, I'm hardly up to date with all the news lately. Besides, I'm sure I would've found out about it at assembly tomorrow - they're still running Friday afternoons right?"

"Well yes, but that would've be too late anyway. Surely you have your eye on someone?"

Regan glanced sideways at Mr. Moriarty, who'd quickly looked up from whatever work he'd been busying himself with to listen. She bit her lips. "Not really." He looked down again.

"What about-"

Mr. Moriarty stood up. "Now that we're all here," he looked down at his watch. "- 5 minutes late, perhaps we can begin."

And so began another class in which Regan barely absorbed any material or paid too much attention, because every time her eyes met his she'd get incredibly distracted. He noticed, too, and flashed her a dark knowing smirk - which didn't make her feel any better at all.

Somehow, time escaped her and it was the end of class.

"One last thing for psyche students-"

Oh dear lord. That meant her. What had he-

"Mr. Holmes is sadly unavailable today," he smiled softly. "So I will be taking the next class in his stead. That'll be all, class. Have a nice day."

Mr. Moriarty swaggered over to her desk and scooped up her book suavely. She had to admit, he was very good at his subtleties. His eyes scanned their page, and he grinned. "I'll just hold on to this till the end of psyche, shall I? Wouldn't want it to get ruined."

Regan beamed up at him. "No, that'd be awful."

They chuckled together for a moment, before he sobered down. "Walk to psyche with me?" he offered.

She shrugged. So they both grabbed their things after the rest of the class left and made their way out of the room.

"What happened to Mr. Holmes?" she asked as he locked the classroom door, fumbling with the keys.

He paused, still holding the key in the lock. A sinister smile flashed across his face. "I wonder." he mused, before continuing to mess around with the door.

"You don't need to wonder," she accused, "You know." To Regan, it felt like it was obvious. Jim was the obvious culprit.

He was done with the door. "I happened to hear the little lecture he gave you, yesterday." he admitted.

"You mean you were listening to it deliberately?"

He rolled his eyes. "Obviiiouuusssllllyyy." he lulled. "I want you to understand that he wasn't lying."

Regan had that suspicion, and it really was that little bit different to hear it straight from Jim himself. In all honesty, a criminal past gave his personality a less jarring feel - it made sense. "Is the past the past?" she asked.

"You mean am I still..."

"Yes."

"No, I'm not." he said. "Although it does give me a certain roguish charm, no?" he jeered.

Regan rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile. The pair began walking off to class. And unfortunately it appeared as though the more time she spent in his company, the more effort it was going to take to get out of all of this unscathed. For a moment, a single moment, she wondered why she even fought it. But she dismissed that quickly. She had this under control, she did, and she had it controlled through fighting the urge to dive head first into the situation.

"So you're really going alone to the dance?" he said.

"Making small talk?" she teased.

He scoffed light-heartedly. "Forgive me for trying to making conversation, Regan." he said, chuckling softly.

"Well..." she joked. They shared a small smile. "To answer your question, yes. I like dances but... I don't like them enough to put a lot of effort into them you know?"

"If it makes you feel better, I never went to any when I was at school." he mused.

"Oh? Why?"

"Well, dear, believe it or not I wasn't very popular..."

She feigned surprised. "No!" she gasped, raising a hand to her mouth - which was in a perfect "o".

"Yes, unfortunately the other kids didn't take too kindly to amateur espionage..." he reflected. Jim looked down at Regan, who had raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't ask."

Regan pouted.

"But, surely you have your eyes on someone, Regan?" he asked innocently.

Regan pretended to be in deep thought, even though she knew he'd see right through. "Well, I've had my eyes on a lot of people. Generally that act constitutes seeing people, no?" she jeered. She was certain he'd have had some sort of comeback, but they'd already arrived at the classroom, so he just shook his head as he entered the room.

She took a seat, not quite at the front - but close enough to Mr. Moriarty that she felt somewhat important. The rest of the class raced in soon after, seats filling up one by one as Mr. Moriarty studied some sheets of paper closely. Irene eventually arrived, nose still swollen and bruised but she didn't have a bandage on at least. She looked at Mr. Moriarty, then looked at Regan, and back at Mr. Moriarty. She grinned a sinister grin and took the seat behind Regan for herself. Regan tried her best to ignore the girl.

Mr. Moriarty coughed. Regan considered sadly that it most definitely wasn't a cold cough. He began the lesson. "Unfortunately Mr. Holmes is in bed sick today, some sort of food poisoning." he flashed a secret glance at Regan, "So I'll be taking the lesson. I've his notes here, and they're telling me you discussed romantic obsession yesterday?"

Nods and articulations of agreement from the class.

"So following on from that topic, we're going to be discussing attraction. Attraction to other people is an incredibly ordinary and common thing: hands up those of you who have evveeerrrr been attracted to another person?"

Hands all over the room went up. Regan hesitantly added her hand to the group. Mr. Moriarty glared at those who were still working out whether to put their hands up or not.

"I know I have." he beamed, shooting his hand up in the air. Regan was forcing herself not to make eye contact. He lowered his hand and turned to write something on the board.

"Regan." Irene's voice whispered from behind her. "Regan!" she said again, this time closer - as she'd clearly leant over her desk.

Regan turned. "What?"

"You do see the way he's looking at you right?" Irene said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't see the pained gazes, licked lips and flushed cheeks? Are you okay honey?" Irene put a moisturised and cigarette stained hand on Regan's forehead. "You must not be feeling well."

Regan swatted the hand away and Irene grinned. "I don't think any of that is happening, Irene. How about you just shut up and learn for once? Maybe you won't be so distracted now Mr. Holmes isn't here."

Irene rolled her eyes. "Do you trust me?"

"No!"

"Regan. Just trust me on this. I'm going to tap the back of your chair with my foot every time I see him look longingly in your direction, alright?"

"Why are you doing this?"

The girl shrugged. "Burying the hatchet love. Unless you want to sock me in the nose again?"

Regan groaned and turned back to the front of the class. Mr. Moriarty finished writing up some notes on attraction up on the board. He turned back to the class.

Kick.

Mr. Moriarty held eye contact with her for a second before addressing a question from the class.

Kick.

He broke his sideways glance.

Kick kick.

Kick.

Kick kick kick.

Kick.

Kick.

Regan squeezed fingers into her temples. She turned back.

"I get the point, Irene."

A really, really hard kick.

Regan turned back to see Mr. Moriarty staring at her from behind steepled fingers. "Is something the matter, Regan?" he asked with an authoritative tone.

She blushed. "No." she managed before burying her face in her book.

Thanks so much to everyone who's been following, favouriting and reviewing! It really does make my day everytime I get a new notification from this fic, and writing it is just a big relaxation sesh from all the homework and bullshit, so your support has really made it happen. :) I don't always find time to reply to reviews, either, but believe me I've read it, taken any advice into consideration and felt all warm and fuzzy inside ok.