Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Not even this computer. I do not own pokemon or Fillmore! So there!

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It was the day of the Sixth Annual Pokemon Convention at X Middle School.

Fillmore and Ingrid were there at six thirty AM, sharp, to begin a three hour shift patrolling the giant convention room. It seemed like everyone in the whole school was there. Some were dressed as pokemon, some were dressed in pokemon brand clothing, and others were protesting already. Fillmore had to admit that, as far as these kind of things went, it was pretty impressive: Every single pokemon had its own stand, there were all kind of neat things to buy (Ingrid bought a Hindu Pikachu stapler) and there was even a stand selling food in the shape of pokemon. For a man who knew nothing of the game, Fillmore mused, he could really get used to the giant Clefairy cakes.

"You know," Ingrid said with a raised eyebrow, "That sugar high is going to wear off precisely forty minutes before our shift ends. Not only are we not supposed to eat on duty, but now we're going to be down an officer for almost an hour."

Fillmore smiled. "That was a good fairy-thing! You worry to much, Ingrid. What could possibly happen during a Pokemon convention? A mad Pikachu? Jigglypuff holding Principal Folsom hostage?"

Ingrid sighed and rubbed her head, but an affectionate look was in her green eyes. No way she could ever get mad at Fillmore. As they walked their route, they were actually having a fair amount of fun. Fillmore noticed that Ingrid seemed almost happy. And in the open? Le gasp! But then, suddenly, her smiled vanished. Her booted footfalls silenced behind him. He turned, and found her paler than usual, eyes glued to an exhibit. Concerned, he stepped closer. She didn't notice.

"Ingrid?" Fillmore asked, snapping his fingers. "Yo, Ingrid Third?"

He stared at her before following her line of vision. Standing next to her, tilting his head at her angle, and looking forward, he saw the source of her unease. It was a bright, tall tent-like stall, red and blue and yellow striped. On it was a picture of a weird, very angular aqua and pink creature. Beneath it was a sign that proclaimed in red and blue and yellow neon: ELECTRIC SOLDIER PORYGON and DENNOU SENSHI PORIGON.

"Ingrid, what's this about?" Fillmore asked. Suddenly, she bolted past him and clear out of the doors, hands clasped over her mouth. She knocked him over in the process. Fillmore pulled out his walkie, "Anza, send a couple of new patrollers down here, fast." Then he followed his partner.

The black haired girl was hunched over a trash can, vomiting. Cornelius was there in a second, holding back her hair and supporting her until she was finished. His thick eyebrows knit together. What was going on? Finally, Ingrid quit shaking and stood upright. He released his safety hold on her hair and instead put a hand on her shoulder. Two very watery green eyes gazed back at him, struggling to hide the major driving emotion of fear.

"Ingrid, what's this about?" Fillmore repeated. She glanced away. "C'mon, we're partners. We're friends. I think I deserve to know why you knocked me over and puked."

"It's… it's…" Ingrid turned away, and took a deep breath. "I should've known it would've been there. All the other pokemon had their own stalls and everything. Even goofy little ones with no power." She seemed to be talking to herself, something Ingrid Third rarely did. Fillmore was beginning to get alarmed.

"Ingrid, what-?"

"I'm fine," she said clearly, pushing him away with one hand, "I just can't finish this shift, okay? I'll meet you back at the Safety Patrol."

Fillmore noted that though she left quickly, she staggered every few steps. He put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. Now, who did he know who had enough information about Pokemon to tell him what a Porygon was? Doubtless he could find someone at the convention, but he'd be trouble if he called for new patrollers and went in seemingly to browse. He walked while he thought. Fillmore finally made his way to the Safety Patrol HQ, and walked in out of habit. Danny and Anza were having a Pokemon card battle. And Danny was losing badly. Curious, Fillmore walked over. Maybe one of these two could tell him what he needed to know.

"Anza?"

"Yeah?" he asked, not looking up from where he was kicking a panicky Danny's butt.

"How much do you know about something called Electric Soldier Porygon?"

In response, Anza froze and Danny screamed.