Chung-chung! At St. Monica's High School in Queens, Stabler and Benson stroll the halls with the principal and try to one-up each other with moralizing dialogue. Principal: "We're proud to say cops never have to visit here blah blah blah." Benson: "Look at those metal detectors blah blah blah." Principal: "Background checks on all faculty blah blah blah." Whatever. The Principal leads them into an office where young Elaine Harrington is waiting, all poignantly clad in the pastel knits of innocence. The costume designers all but stick a huge bow on her head. When Stabler and Benson ask her about the Yachtsman, she sits down and looks down at the floor like a scared puppy. "Do you KNOW him?" asks the Principal, addressing her as one would a stupid child. "Uh-huh," says Elaine in the softest voice possible. "We had a . . . thing." "What kind of a THING?" demands Principal Buttinsky. Benson wisely decides to get Elaine's pastel little butt the hell out of there.
At the cop shop, Elaine explains that the Yachtsman just cruised on by her house one day asking if he could order more panties. Okay, I find it hard to believe that Granny Pantypeddler gave the Yachtsman HER GRANDDAUGHTER'S ADDRESS, but whatever. Elaine thought the whole panty scheme was goofy, but the Yachtsman began to win her over by talking to her about his own daughter who died in a car crash. "My own dad left when I was eight," says Elaine, starting to cry a little. Stabler Takes It Personally. She said the attention was "nice." "So then he took me to this beautiful restaurant on the river. He made me feel like a princess." Benson asks Elaine if Yachtsman forced her to have sex with him. "No . . . I mean . . . he just did stuff to himself," she says. Benson consoles her. "It was just that the smell of him reminded me of my dad," Elaine cries. Stabler Takes It Personally some more.
Cap'n Cragen and Stabler discuss Elaine's story. There was no real sex; the Yachtsman, um, chose to stay on his own dinghy, so to speak. "Yeah, but he perved her in ways she doesn't even know about," says Stabler. Wow, and I didn't know "perv" could be used as a verb. Cragen brainstorms: "How about this -- he entered into an improper relationship with a minor." Stabler points out the no-real-sex problem. "He doesn't know that," says Cragen. "He doesn't know what she told us." Stabler grins. "Are you suggesting we lie to the poor man?" "Absolutely not," says Cragen. "Role-playing. Fantasy. Make-believe. The same crap he's been peddling to us about victimless crimes." Role-playing and fantasy with Cragen? Ouch, my mind.