Frances Logan growled. Okay, he didn’t, at least not aloud. But he’d be damned if he didn’t want to. Jesus, what the he-okay, maybe that didn’t belong in the same thought as Jesus. Not because Logan was decidedly religious, after all he was Catholic, erh-that thought was blasphemous, Logan knew it. So he stopped it. In short he believed in a God and a hell, so never the twain shall meet, even if he wanted them to. Which about along now, yeah he really, really did. I mean really, didn’t schools have school resource officers for this kind of crap? Logan was pretty sure they did. Besides, he worked homicide, who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in front of a class room full of pubescent, horn dogs and kittens, with some crap ass thing like abstinence counseling. Even if he wasn’t making the biggest ass in the world out of himself, Frenchy Logan really wouldn’t have thought he was the right guy for the job.

After all he was trying quite hard to get out of his own pattern of abstinence and the irony of that was not lost one bit on him. Sure every relationship he’d ever been involved in seemed to implode at some point, but well urges were…er…urges.

Crap. Logan knew he so wasn’t the person for this crap. Damn. But he’d promised the chief, so well yeah, here he was. Looking out into a classroom full of teenagers.

He sighed.

Might as well get thing over with…

“So who here knows what abstinence is?” He asked, trying hard not to grimace.

The gym was about as quiet as it could be—this full of people anyway. The jocks were joking around, punching shoulders and telling jokes. The nerds read over homework assignments, or did them. The cheerleaders and otherwise popular girls sat in their circles, sucking up to one another and fawning. The loners stared off into space.

JJ doodled. She plucked some people out of the crowd at random to pass the time. Zane, with his veil of black hair hanging over his face and dark eyes circled with liberal amounts of eyeliner. He sat with his trademark blank expression, his arms crossed over his black shirt. Andrea, the pinnacle of fashion in skinny jeans that probably cost more than JJ’s entire outfit and Aeropostale shirt. (JJ often wondered why they thought it was cool to have ‘airmail’ written on their clothes.)

Currently, she was working on the cop, the reason why grades nine and twelve were in the gym. She’d never had any formal training for her sketches, had only read a couple of secondhand books on it, but she thought it was a good likeness. His jaw was square, a little blocky, his eyes sharp and dark beneath heavy lids. Studying her sketch, she decided he looked… uncomfortable. Glancing at the cop, she figured it fit well enough. He started speaking just as she was working on his barrel chest, trying to figure out how to translate the stocky build to paper without making him look cartoonish.

To his question, there was mainly silence. Finally, one of the jocks spoke up, JJ’s brother as luck would have it. “It’s not getting some,” Nick offered to many a hoot and laugh.

There was a slow and tense crack beneath the brawl of howling and hooting teens. It was a soft sound, like dried leaves rustling or cracking underfoot, but it continued slowly, building steam like a locomotive. Until suddenly the sound was gone, still it was a sound to notice, especially when it came from the direction of the big man at the head or the room-er gym. Damn, Logan would admit that the little bastards had gotten to him, but maybe cracking his knuckles the same way he did before a fight was a bit much.

Old joints or no, they had plenty of sound off power and the man behind them didn’t look at all happy. Indeed the looks he gave shut up a good section of the speaker’s fan club right quick and it even got him a round of dirty looks from a teacher or two from the faculty that had encircled the parameter of the structure more efficient than some cops he knew. Still dirty looks weren’t a problem to the big man, he just gave them right back and then finally he turned his gaze back over the crowd that had seemed to still between his expression and those of the teachers ringing the room.

Logan sighed, breathed deep and tried to find his humor. His expression wasn’t quite happy still, but it was amused-well sorta-and he gave as close to a smile as he could manage.

“Heh, good one kid.” He muttered, still clearly uncomfortable, but Logan would be damned if he let this crap go down the john just like that, so he nodded, falling into a speaking tone of voice.

“As funny as that was, you’re little friend was right. That’s exactly what abstinence is. And while I can come out here with all the medical speak in the world, could tell you all the proper names for parts and yada, yada, yada. You’re all adults here or at least well on your way to becoming it. So let’s talk like adults, shall we?”

Logan was winging it now, he sat down the ‘notes’ that had been made for him and doing all his best not to notice some of the shocked looks he was getting, he kept on. By the book was fine and all, but screw this ‘Hi I’m your friendly neighborhood cop’ BS. He was going to be as straight as he could manage with these kids.

“Alright, I’m Officer Logan. And this course is abstinence counseling. The point of this is to inform you all not to do anything stupid without knowing the consequences and as such consequences can be dire.”

Logan’s expression hardened then, yet even as it did there was this deeply wicket little edge of a smile. Walking forward, Logan reached down and grabbed a picture. Said picture had been magnified, it was of…well it was hard to tell what it was of. It was lumps of flesh. Festering and pus ridden flesh, all red and inflamed. That back said “advanced” STD.

“Can anyone tell me what body part this is?” He growled holding up the picture.

JJ studied the cop, that is, she studied Officer Logan with interest, ignoring her oh-so-witty brother and his gaggle of friends. The officer, she determined, didn't look nearly amused as the jocks. Of course, being somewhat older and (hopefully) more mature than a group of high school boys, that wasn't what you would call surprising.

He rubbed his ham-sized fists, making her think of a boxer before his hands got taped up or whatever. With sudden inspiration, she flipped over to a new page in her homemade drawing tablet, wincing a little as the paper caught on the binding. With short, quick strokes, she began a new sketch of the officer's face, this time replacing the vague discomfort with a decidedly less vague annoyance. Adding the curled hands in before she forgot just how they looked made it look a little odd--a floating head and disembodied hands.

Caught up in fixing that, she let out an irritated "Hey!" as her notebook was plucked out of her hands, assuming it was one of her turnip-brained peers. As it turned out, it was the twelfth-grade homeroom teacher, who precisely shut the book and handed it back to her.

"Well, Ms. Townsend, since you were paying such rapt attention, I'm sure you'd like to answer Officer Logan's question." Mr. Ernst said, his voice dripping sarcasm.

JJ glanced up, trying to ignore the way pretty much the entire gym was now looking at her, and studied the nasty photograph. Winging a guess on what the officer had asked since she had no earthly idea, she said, "Um... a really bad, uh... case of icky bumps?"

Apparently not, from the way everybody started laughing. Again. Well, it wasn't like she'd been trying to achieve that response.

Logan’s eyes searched the crowd. Indeed more than searched, he pulled them in. There wasn’t a kid in the area that could blink without him noticing it. And yet of course blinking was hardly the most he got. Nope. That would be too easy. Deer in the headlights was too much to ask for. So instead he got a bunch of funny-boy (from before) and what were obviously his friends chuckling, a few that seemed asleep even after his heart felt declaration of war, and of course there was the homework crowd busily going to work. Frenchy wasn’t sure which of them annoyed him worst.

Okay, that was a lie. He knew which of them annoyed him most. But then that was a personal problem. This ‘bit’ was all about shocking and awing the kids, Logan wasn’t sure he could do much to awe this crowd, but he could sure as heck shock.

Yeah, he was pretty good a shocking. Actually if he weren’t a better man, he might get a kick out of the fright he would deliver. But then there were no cops that sadistic, right?

Logan watched the man pounce with all the ferocity that one could expect of a public education employee. It was a special kind of viciousness, born through being over worked and under paid, from having your authority stepped on and bedraggled. Logan knew it intimately, though he could guess it was probably 10X as worst for teachers than cops. Yep, they were all a bunch of lucky bastards.

From always across the room, Logan could hear what the man was saying. And that was probably the point. Embarrassment. Then afterward, ah the look of confusion, and much to his joy, the answer…

Ah yes, the answer. Well there were a couple of ways Logan could take that. Sarcasm was his first choice. But the girl looked embarrassed enough, plus. Well plus he felt pity watching the pack scrabble to take bites out of her. It was rather obvious she wasn’t high in the pecking order, after all she’d got busted for a notebook. Cell phone, he might not have taken any pity on, but notebook. Well let’s just say Logan had always had a soft spot for the old proverbial underdog.

“Alrighty boys and girls, that enough of that.” He said to drop the laughing and talking. It was also said cold enough to freeze running water, so that helped.

“Yep, they’re bumps. But where?” He asked. “What from?”

Logan paused only long enough to let everyone catch up and realize his question was rhetorical.

“The answer folks is this, this mass of blisters and bumps is a face. Those rings there are eye sockets with eyes closed. That mound of bumps is a nose, well there is one under their somewhere and well I guess you should get the idea. This poor guy has Herpes, all over his face. How would you like to wake up one morning looking like that?”

Unlike some people, such as her brother, JJ was never comfortable being the center of attention. She wasn't a class clown or showoff or even one of those people that liked showing other people how smart she was. And if she wasn't comfortable with good attention, guess how she felt with people sniggering at her?

"Icky bumps? Was she serious?"

"I thought it was funny."

"What a dork."

Hunching low, which was actually pretty difficult considering her height and the way the hard bleachers were set up, JJ tried to ignore the mutters and whispers that slowed but continued to exist after Logan's admonishment. Several mostly empty rows below, she could hear her brother's friend, Chris, talking to him.

"Man, is that your sister?"

"Yeah. Normally she never opens her mouth. Good reason for that, see?"

"She's pretty hot, you know. And nothing wrong with quiet."

She slitted her eyes at Chris's lecherous tone, then sunk down a little further in her seat, only vaguely listening to Logan speak. She itched to open up her notebook again, but no way she'd do that. Not with Ernst watching her like he was just waiting for her to do something remotely out of line so he could pounce.

“Uhm…so folks, can we get back to the whole reason I’m here?” Logan interjected easily, well easy for him. After all it probably wasn’t so easy on those he was speaking to. Many a rookie had run for the hills after that voice. Kids though, kids probably didn’t get it. That extra reasonable voice that seemed perfectly logical and contrite in your ears, but felt like ice in your belly as it settled. Logan had been able to do that since he was younger. Nice to know his siblings had become of some use, but it was also horrible to have a big police detective looking at you after speaking like that.

As it turned out he was looking at Chris. The lecherous tone had been like waving honey at angry bees, but Logan looked a lot more like a bear as he crossed considerable arms across a considerable chest.

“Hey you,” Logan said, looking at the boy. He smiled then and it wasn’t a pleasant kind of smile at all, instead it was like a hawk catching a plump hare in the open. “Sorry I don’t know your name son…”

He didn’t sound sorry at all, but he continued.

“But I’m sure you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand right?” Though it was phrased as a question, it left no room for argument. And Logan’s unpleasant smile shimmered at the rest of the class. That smile said I have really unpleasant things in store for you. And indeed he did. The first he started with a simple request to Chris.

“Alright son, can you come to me. Sit on the table I have set up here?” Again it was merely disguised as a question.

Come on, to be honest, what wasn't to like about a pretty girl that never talked? That was the problem with dating the reigning queen of Matheson High. In most respects Harmony was perfect--beautiful, popular, and completely vapid. Drop a trinket or flowers on her at random intervals, and she was delighted to show her appreciation as often as was humanly possible.

But, man, she never stopped talking.

Chris eyed Nick's little sister again. Sure she was a freshman, but hey. Freshman girls were so easy. You just put on the soft, sympathetic, big brotherly act and they lapped it up. It was a combination of being flattered that an older guy was paying such attention to them and dazzlement at the fact that said older guy was captain of the basketball team.

"Uh, what?" he asked stupidly, caught off guard by the cop's question. As far as this little talk was going, the attention paid to the officer was sadly little. "I'm, uh, Chris." Chris was bright enough to be wary at being asked to give the man a hand, but he also knew from the look on the guy's face that the question wasn't really a question. It was more like a piece of knotted rope disguised as a question. Shrugging--the guy couldn't have anything too bad in mind--Chris hopped off the bleachers. "Always willing to help the law, Officer."

He moved easily, aware of and comfortable with everybody's eyes on him. Plopping down at the table, he looked expectantly at the cop. "Just sit here?"

Logan nodded. Well he nodded as he got a smile on his face. It was not a very pleasant smile at all. It was far too pointed, held way too much hard edge, but it wasn’t dangerous. Well not really dangerous. Just wicket, really wicket, depths of hell wicket, but just wicket.

“That’s it.” Logan said easily, nodding again as he spoke. “I’m glad to hear that son. It’s always good to have ‘folks help’en the law rather than breaking it.”

The big man walked back around the table then, he kneeled for a second, and when he came back up it was with something that looked a lot like a backpack in his hands. However that was the last thing it was.

“Alright, I need you to lift your arms.” The cop said then.

And when good old Chris got around to it, Logan would put the pack on him, backwards. Or at least it seemed that way for a moment, until everyone in the crowd realized that the pack looked suspiciously like-well like a belly. A belly that strapped at the back around the boy’s torso, it was also a belly that was empty at first, that was until a series of pockets were opened and weights that like “the belly” appeared from the other side of the table.

First thirty pounds around the outside, to simulate the weight a woman picks up during pregnancy, then nine pounds, simulating a possible full term baby weight and of course Logan wouldn’t have been having fun if he didn’t walk forward and put twin two pound weights around the kid’s ankles, simulating bloating, and assuring that he’d have the waddle that was all the rage with really pregnant women everywhere.

Normally this was just for the ladies, but Logan, he was an equal opportunity teacher. Besides he could look at the kid and tell he needed an attitude adjustment when it came to “the fairer sex.” Logan grumbled at that thought, obviously whoever had come up with that little turn of phrase had never been hit by a woman or get in an argument with one or…well let’s just say there wasn’t a thing about women that was fair. At least in certain senses, if anything they were smarter, harder, and more ruthless than a man ever could be.

And Logan wasn’t above sharing the reasons why with the next generation. Women are stronger than even they understand sometimes.

“So,” The officer of the law said, reaching behind the table one more time. In his hands was a massive floral print number that had been made for a “very” pregnant woman. “You gonna get dressed?”

He sat the dress down beside the guy then.

“And now, Chris, tell me, how do you feel?”

Chris, beyond raising his eyebrows, showed little reaction as the officer brought out the big backpack thing. What, were you not supposed to go hiking before you did the deed? Then the cop put it on him and he got it. "Whoa, dude, isn't this a chick thing?" he muttered, listening to a few snickers from their audience.

The snickers only got louder as the cop kept adding. Weights for the belly, more weights for the belly, and then weights for the ankles. Even a big strong jock like him was shocked by all the weight. Pregnant chickies, of course, added their weight a lot more gradually.

When the cop pulled out the dress, Chris had a look on his face. A sort of I-can't-believe-this-is-happening-to-me look. It was pretty funny, actually.

But this was a frat boy in the making. Last year, for Halloween, he'd gone to a party dressed up as a rubber chicken. So, not really as easily embarrassed as some people. "Sure, I think it completes the look, ossifer," he replied, semi-respectfully, as the cop brought out the flowered parachute. Taking the flowery muumuu, he made a big production of putting it on, wiggling around and the whole bit.

"Well, sir, I think I'm missing something. You wouldn't have a wig in there, wouldja?" Chris asked, knowing he looked completely ridiculous. And very, very wrong. For show, he took a few big waddles, then glanced back at the cop.

"Hey, you think I could borrow this for Halloween?"

The embarrassment tack, it seemed, had backfired. Just Logan's luck he pulled the one guy out of the crowd that could wear a pregnant suit and not even have the grace to flush.

What the heck was this kid made out of, Teflon?

Logan couldn’t help but wonder. Okay, maybe this was just karma, he’d tried to embarrass the kid a bit and it had turned around to bite him on the ass. What can ya say, the world’s a kooky place sometimes. But then again Logan wasn’t just embarrassing the kid, he was also making a point. So not to be undone, he simply let out a little chuckle at the kid’s replies and gave him a lopsided half smile.

“Yeah, yeah, it completes the look.” He grumbled.

Then he crossed heavy arms over a wide chest as he rolled his eyes.

“No wig. Sorry. And of course you can’t borrow it for holloween…”

That last one made his smile even out just a bit. What could he say, he did have a sense of humor after all, but all joking aside he reached down into his bag and pulled out the last bit of the puzzle. It was a pipe, well a rod of steel, had to be hollow to technically be a pipe. But specifics aside, Logan caught a little Velcro seal on the back of the “belly” wraparounds, pulling it opened the way for the rod and Logan slid it right down the kid’s back.

Normally the spine curves, even more so supporting more than normal weight, the rod well that interferes and it was the last piece, the stress that a baby puts on a woman’s spine. Logan knew for a fact that last little bit would be as annoying as heck. Not being able to stand right puts all kinds of kinks in the back, made walking a major hassle, but what could he do. Embarrassment or not, he had to take this thing all the way through.

“So how does that feel?” Logan asked genuinely. “If the rod is too annoying I can always take it back out. But before that, I need you to take a little walk around the gym for me.”

Hard, dark eyes turned back on the rest of the assembly then.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen pay close attention. As much as this might tickle the old funny bones, this ladies is what you can expect. And fellas, well I guess the politically incorrect thing to say is…you too.” Hey, what could Logan say, a pregnant woman is both man’s worst enemy and his greatest accomplishment and that was a two way street. A woman has a time with men during those nine long months too.

He hadn't really figured he'd be able to borrow the pregnancy training device thing for Halloween, so Chris kinda shrugged. He'd only asked, as one might have guessed, because it seemed the natural and funny thing to say.

Unexpectedly, the officer didn't seem too put out by the automatic flippancy that came so easily to Chris. In fact, the big guy (and we do mean big) seemed to actually have a sense of humor. Which was surprising. Looking at the guy, one would expect him to the stereotypical hardboiled cop.

You know the kind. Ulcers, alcoholism, multiple wives? Sharp mind but no humor to speak of--except for the really bad kind used for interrogating suspects. Basically, that one cop on every single television show about cops ever made.

"How does it feel? Pretty annoying," Chris replied after Logan attached (inserted, whatever) the rod. It was pretty annoying. He couldn't stand right, which would always bother you. Plus, the two-hundred pounds of fake baby weight wasn't really helping. Which was probably the idea.

Great, now he had to walk in it? "Sure thing," he mumbled. And then he was off and waddling. He didn't even have to fake the duck-walk, it just happened naturally. And the rod in his back became more and more of a pain with every shuffle he took. Not to mention the weight. Even for a kid accustomed to wearing pounds of gear didn't have fun with all the weight.

For one thing, pads were placed differently than the faux-baby.

It took an age to walk around the gym, and Chris was fighting the urge to stop every now and then to take a breather. "Well, officer, if the idea here is to make me not ever want to be a pregnant woman, good job," he mumbled to himself as he got closer to his starting point.

Not that he ever had anyway.

Ulcers, alcoholism, multiple wives? If Logan could have heard the kid’s thoughts, he might have been a bit depressed. Especially because two out of the three described him perfectly, which was a real bitch sometimes, especially when you were essentially a subordinate to an Ex-wife, but then again, Barb had always been a good woman and an even better cop. She was one of the few Ex’s he could actually be civil with and expect the same. And truth was, she was a great chief. Really great, that was except for this kind of crap. But then this he’d done to himself. Carlson owed him for this crap, new baby or no, Logan was going to black ball him until he’d paid in full.

Still it wasn’t so bad being a stereotype…besides, Frances Logan got something that all those television cops never did. He got the joy of the next generation, he got to give back to the community, and that made him roll his eyes the moment Chris had made it back to him and he smiled a bit at the kid just because. Thought he’d give him credit for the joke, it was all about comedic timing. He knew guys double the kid’s age that wouldn’t have gotten it right.

“Nice one junior.” He chuckled, looking at him and then looking to the crowd. “But naw, the idea is to put you in the shoes kid. So you know what’s going on with every woman that’s pis-” Logan paused, amending his language for the teachers assembled. Heck the kids probably heard worst on T.V. Logan know he did, but it was all about the establishment’s sensibilities these days.

“That’s to say that you know what women go through that have them angry at all the deadbeat dads in the world. All the idiots that can get into a girl’s pants but somewhere along the way forgot the express purpose of such.”

Logan’s smile was sharp again, slightly wicket.

“The idea is that no matter how many times someone comes in here to talk to you kids about sex and all the things that come about because of it, we’re essentially wasting our time. That’s not to say that I don’t believe in the program, that just to say that the program can only give you clinical facts and statistics. It all just turns into another lesson about biology or whatever the newest and latest approach is.

Me, I’m not of that school of thought myself. You see I know you kids have the information. I know you have the urges. Anyone that tells you they don’t are lying to you and lying badly, but the idea with me kid is just that I want you and everyone else in this gym to go into things thinking like an adult. You’re not kids anymore. You know what your parents think about sex, you know what the culture thinks, but what matters is what you think and what you do. So kid, that’s the idea. Ya made a great pregnant woman by the way…”

That said, Logan moved to slip the rod out of the back and began taking off the rest of the stuff. It was about time to pack it up, he knew. After all some of the teachers seemed to be in shock, some were smiling, and one very pretty red head was actually giving him a thumbs up. So yeah.

“Anyone got any questions?” He asked then, packing all the stuff up. “We got all the STD pamphlets you could ever want up here on the table. We’ve got stuff on pregnancy too, and personally I just want to ask that you all use good judgment. If there aren’t any questions, we’ll be wrapping things up.”

JJ watched quietly as Chris was dressed up in the pregnant costume and, as only Chris could, played up what was supposed to be embarrassing punishment into what could have passed for a professional comedic routine. A professional comedic routine with a message.

Girls, don't have sex unless you're ready for the consequences. No, we don't mean the whole 'bringing new life into the world' thing. We mean dealing with getting fat, swelling ankles, and Technicolor muumuus. Guys, don't get girls pregnant unless you want to deal with girls that are cranky about the aforementioned things. And, of course, you have money to pay child support.

Also, this is your face. This is your face with herpes.

Seated silently, abstaining from making the jokes and comments her peers made as they moved, as if a single entity, towards the door, she opened her notebook again. Ernst couldn't get on her back now, considering the talk was over and school was, officially, out for the day.

Strangely, unlike the rest of the class, JJ seemed in no particular hurry to leave. Instead, she was content to simply sit, her pencil brushing lightly over paper, until the gym was mostly empty. Even the teachers were hustling away. There were only a few left, and the officer, when JJ finally tucked her pencil away and stood.

Wandering down the bleachers to Logan's table, she wasn't surprised to see that the pamphlets were almost untouched. Shrugging, she took one, slipping it into her bag along with her pencil and a few books. The officer's back was to her and, on impulse, she finally spoke.

"Officer? May I ask you something?"

Logan had fallen easy enough into the busy work once everyone had started to clear out. That wasn't to say that all of the stuff he'd used didn't need to be carefully placed back into the proper bags or boxes, that was simply to say that it wasn't that important. Especially given that he'd offered to answer questions. Still just the same, Logan would admit that he wasn't exactly torn up inside at the lack of feed back.

Actually he'd very much like to go home and just chalk all of this up to bad dreams, maybe get vengeance for it later, that sort of thing. Violence and denial, things that every great cop needs to get a real handle on. Yeah.

But as it was, Logan paused the minute he noticed someone behind him, at the table. And he sat down the pregnancy belly, not boxing it yet, to look back as he watched a girl take one of the pamphlets.

May miracles never cease!

But when she spoke, he stood, looked her over in a moment. What could he say, cop training, you always analyze. It's second nature. Then he nodded.

"Sure you can," He said cordially, well as cordial as he got anyway. "Shoot. Ask away."

"Um... okay," JJ replied, finding the big rounded belly and it's all too lifelike belly button sitting between them a little awkward. Glancing at it, wondering why the makers found the belly button significant, she wished she hadn't put the pamphlet away so quickly. Talking to people tended to make her fidget or toy with whatever she happened to be holding.

She started to speak, then paused, struck by just how tall the officer was. This close, he seemed even bigger and more intimidating and more like a bear than he had from the bleachers. What was he, six-foot-six? Six-seven? Taller? The freshman girl wasn't entirely used to being towered over. She was thin, but tall. Even some of the jocks were shorter than she was.

"I was just wondering..." JJ began, then trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase herself. "See, I have this... um, this friend. And she--she's been having, well, sex. With this guy." This was just as awkward as she'd thought it would be. "And I know she doesn't really want to, but he--but he doesn't really let... her say no."

Stroking a hand over her hair, part of that nervous fidget habit of hers, she took a deep breath before continuing, "Anyway, the point was, she's afraid of getting, you know... sick. And she doesn't want to go to a--hospital. 'Cause she's afraid they'll tell her parents. So, I was going to ask, um, you if they do. Have to tell her parents."

For a second, scratch that, for a lot of seconds Logan was silent. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the ol’ “I have this friend…” line either. Nope, for a second his throat was dry, parched and closed off. He didn’t want to embarrass the girl, but damn…

As a cop you go through all kinds of training, more than civilians or at least normal people ever really consider. It’s more than guns and squad cars, there are lots of books involved and lots of hours left cramming and studying. It’s lots of time learning and remembering stuff that you think you’ll never ever need, stuff you hope you’ll never need, but when you need it, when it’s required. If you so much as have the notion of calling your sorry self a cop, you better damn well have it. And this was one of those times.

Logan’s mood, his stance, the edge he always seemed to have. All of that mellowed, the hardened and world weary eyes that all comes have. Have earned. Logan gave his best to make them softer, less cutting, and jaded. And much the same could be said for his voice when he spoke. He hadn’t thought he’d ever have this kind of thing blindside him, but as a cop, if he could call himself an officer of the law, he was glad he was ready when it did.

“Well,” He said. And that word seemed to hold a thousand emotions, a thousand questions, but for the ears it was calm and restrained. It was the voice of someone without opinion or judgment

“Well sweetie, to answer you question about ‘your friend’ the answer is yes. If someone is being assaulted, especially sexually, that person’s parents have to be notified, especially if they’re underage. It’s the law.”

Saying that he paused for only a beat; not giving time for a response.

“But if your friend is being forced into sex, I gotta say, disease is the least of her worries. You see, no body should be able to force anyone else to do anything they don’t want to. Lotta folks all over the world died for that one…and just so ya know, a man never has the right by law and by plain human decency to put his hands on a woman without her express consent…”

He stared at her then, careful not to let any emotion leak into his eyes.

“You understand that? As a man, me or anyone else does not put their hands on a woman. It wasn’t done when I was your age or even when my papa was your age, that’s something a man doesn’t do. And if he does, it’s something he deserves to rot for.”

During the extremely long seconds of silence, JJ was uncomfortably aware of her words hanging in the air. She knew the whole "I have a friend" explanation was a cliche, but what else could she have said? Even a transparent bit of separation was better than coming right out and telling the truth.

It didn't matter if she could tell he didn't buy the line. It was so much safer to hide behind the flimsy guise. It was her friend, that was all. It came no closer to her than that.

Liar.

When he finally started speaking, it was painfully obvious that he knew. The kind tone, the gentled eyes. Logan's gaze might have been free of emotion, but that alone was enough.

Why had she even asked?

Even mortified, unable to even try to believe that he would think she was asking on someone else's behalf, JJ felt comforted by his words. It was hard not to, with the kind of presence the officer had. And for a moment, she was sure that he was the kind of cop that you read about or saw on TV.

If she spilled everything, certainly he'd help. Right?

"I... I'll tell her that," JJ said at last.

"Please do that." Logan replied, not unkindly. Not unkindly at all, but he tried to keep the emotion distant. Couldn't let her knew he knew, or at least that was the plan. But it was a horrible plan and didn't work a bit.

Then Logan sighed. He wasn't a social worker, this wasn't his kind of deal. That's not to say he didn't run into sex offenders, oh he did. Regularly. One of those perks that the movies never tell you about being a homicide detective. Most murders, they are crimes of passion, rather that passion be angry lovers, rapists, hell even the ookiest of serial killers. Sex drive was something human, sex drive warped, was a thing of monsters...

Still it was easier to look those psychos in the eye than it was their victims. Always. Living or dead. The psychos were just psychos, to see the damage they inflicted, to see it in a perfectly normal person's eyes, that was a killer.

It wasn't that different now. But Logan wasn't about to give up, at least not without a fight. So he changed the subject, ever so slightly.

"Kid you have a name?" He asked, with a thin smile.

JJ jolted slightly as he asked for her name. What, was he going to look her up or something? She had no idea what he might find if he did... but then again, maybe she was just being paranoid. Or stupid. After a moment of silence she faked a smile a little and said, "Townsend, Alice Jane. Most people call me JJ, though."

If she could have heard Logan's thoughts, she might have laughed. But not in an entirely good way. Not a real laugh, but a slightly sour one. She didn't believe that trash about eyes being the window to the soul after all. Look into Nick's eyes and you would see a perfectly normal young man looking back at you. Handsome and slightly arrogant with it, as popular teenagers are famous for, but normal.

And, she was sure, you would see the same in her own. She'd had time enough to perfect the mask, hadn't she? JJ couldn't see the miserable melancholy that haunted her dark blue eyes when she looked in the mirror. She had seen it too much. It couldn't be recognized anymore, not with how familiar it had become.

So she smiled a little, almost like a tease, as he called her 'kid'. She didn't understand why adults did that. "So, how about you, officer Logan. Do you have a first name?"

Was he going to look her up? To that question, Logan really didn’t have an answer. After all what could he say or do? Simply put; nothing. You don’t have a crime if you don’t have a victim willing to say that they’ve been or are being victimized. The oldest trick in the book really, a bitch of a trick that was being used by rapists, abusive husbands, and the all around lowest rungs of humanity the world over. It was also the one situation in which a cop has no real power. None at all. And if ever there was anything Detective Frances Logan hated, it was being powerless.

Still there is a reason they call the emotionless gaze “cop eyes” it was what you learned, be it walking the beat or cooling your heals inside the yellow tape, you learn to distance yourself from it. Make it not real, make it not hurt, if only so you can put an end to the pain…someone else’s pain anyway, even if it’s the pain of a person you’ll never meet because you got a slime bag off the streets before he chalked up another victim. The look, the expression, the way of thinking, all of that just kept you sane. Nothing more and nothing less.

Then he returned her smile, a bit worst for the wear, but returned just the same.

“Well Townsend, Alice Jane.” He laughed at the file folder form of her name. “JJ, I’m Detective Frances Logan…and idiots that don’t live long, call me Frenchy. But mostly I’m just Logan.”

"Idiots that don't live that long, huh? Well, since I've got this hope to live a long and happy life, I'll just call you Offi--Detective Logan," JJ said, making sure to emphasize the 'detective' and giggling a little at his warning. It was the first sound she'd made that diidn't seem faked or guarded. Despite the slightly smart-aleck response.

JJ preferred to think of herself as having a dry wit rather than being a smart-aleck. People with a dry wit knew when to keep the dry wit to themselves and when they could give it free reign. Much better than smart-aleck... ness? Smart-aleckiesm?

Whatever.

"So, how did a detective get stuck with us? Usually they sic a patrol cop on us. Like last time, they--" JJ began, curious, before being interrupted.

Nick stuck his head back in the gym, having just finished talking to his friends. "Ally, are you coming? I'm not waiting around for you," he barked, eying her and the cop suspiciously.

And just like that the openness was gone. Her eyes were shuttered as she gave a quick glance at her brother. Even with the distance between them, it was easy to see she wouldn't meet his eyes. "Uh, yeah, I'm coming," she called back, before turning back to Logan. "It was... nice talking to you. Detective." She turned to walk away, but hesitated and turned back.

Ripping the half-finished sketch out of her notebook, she held it out to him.

Logan couldn’t help but smile at the giggle. It might sound strange, but it made him feel good, that one little sound made his heart lighter, at least so much as it could as the reality of what she’d said before came to bare on his shoulders. Logan tried his best not to grimace, but it’s true, there’s nothing a cop hates more than being helpless and that’s just what he was. What a lot of good cops were, helpless. The law is the law and no matter how much a hunch you have, hell even if you know for sure, but if you don’t lay your eyes on it, can’t get a witness or even a perp’s screw up…if you don’t have any of that…being a cop is sometimes the most depressing job in the world. Especially for the cops that get into it to help people, if you were one of those, being helpless was a bitch.

Ask Logan how he knew?

But of course talking to JJ, none or at least most of this didn’t show on Logan’s face. He just listened, expression easy and thoughtful. He even managed to smile as she’d started to say “Officer” but had it slip into his more formal title. ‘Detective.’ Yeah, that one surprised him too sometimes, but since he’d gone from beat cop, he’d gotten pretty good at the job, which meant being pretty paranoid and pretty observant.

“What makes ya think I got stuck with you…” He said then, not seeing a flaw in her logic about the patrol cops, but going with it anyway.

And yet that was as far as he got with words, instead taking in the young woman before him with a sharp and as most cops get, paranoid eye. That gaze moved real quick to the kid that had spoke and even as he eyed them, the cop eyed him right back, lips tightening into a thin line without their owner even thinking about it or noticing. What he did notice was JJ’s reaction and if anything that made his eyes narrow.

It also made her first question to him replay like a tainted audio recording.

Like most cops would have, he’d assumed parents or maybe an uncle or something…but…well…but…

“Nice meeting you too,” Logan said then, easy as could be, like they’d just been discussing the weather. Then he added to the back of her retreating form. “Hey, JJ, if you ever want to talk…”

Then he paused, looking at the sketch she was handing him, for a moment he just looked at it, then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a pin and scribbled on it’s back before giving it back.

“Hey keep it,” He said, adding. “And ya real talent for that…nice.”

What he didn’t mention was that he’d scribbled the department’s number and his personal phone number on the back. Most people would have stopped with the department number, but then Frances Logan wasn’t most people.

“See ya around, kids.” He said then, a wave aimed at both of the two students.

Catching the look Logan gave Nick, JJ said, in what she hoped was an offhand voice, "That's my brother. Nick." She wasn't sure why she felt compelled to clarify that, except maybe so Logan didn't think he was her boyfriend or something. After all, looking at the two couldn't tell anyone they were siblings. Nick black-haired to JJ's auburn, with a duskier complexion.

She watched silently as he pulled out a pen, quickly dashing something off on the back of the sketch. Glancing down at it, JJ realized he'd written two phone numbers. The DPD and what must have been his own.

She wasn't sure what to make of that.

Taking back the sketch, JJ carefully tucked it back into her little notebook. "I'll--think about that," she said quietly. For some reason, that didn't seem like the right note to leave on, so she added an oddly somber, "Goodbye."

She only looked back once, glancing over her shoulder as she felt Nick's hand at the small of her back, guiding her from the gym.

"I figured." Logan said, by way of replies to JJ's statement. And to tell the truth he had, not because they looked like brother and sister, but simply because he remembered the way the kids had been sitting during the assembly. It had been a while since he'd been in high school, but you normally did at least share body space with your significant other. Even little kids held hands...

But as far as Logan's look went, it didn't change, it was the same cynical cop look that every law enforcement agent on the planet cobbles together to look interested without being 'too' interested.

The Detective nodded then at her quite reply and was glad when she put her sketch away. And at her ‘goodbye’ well that made him smile, a genuine expression that even reached the eyes this time unlike before.

“Goodbye, JJ.” He said, leaving Nick out of this one.

Then he just watched as she left, watched and strangely enough worried. Yeah, surprisingly enough, contrary to everything you’ve ever heard, cops sometimes worried about the people they were supposed to protect.

And just like that she was gone and Logan was left with his thoughts and clean up, a double curse if ever there was one.