When Pigs Fly
The X Middle School Safety Patrol was a fine establishment indeed. What with its history of underground frog-racing busts and undercover Red Robin escapades and so on and so forth, it was no wonder that it was regarded as one of the school's most esteemed organizations.
This fact, Ingrid Third decided, was one that she ought to have been extremely proud of. After all, there was an impossibly large number of clubs and organizations within X Middle School; half of which overlapped each other while remaining completely oblivious to the others' existence. For this very reason, it was becoming increasingly difficult for the Safety Patrol distinguish one fish-obsessed club from the next. And for that very reason, Ingrid Third sat menacingly within headquarters, scrolling through an atrociously long list of clubs with the word "Fish" in their titles, searching for the "Fish Photographers Club."
It took her slightly more than fifteen minutes to realize that there in fact was a difference between the list of clubs with "Fish" in their titles, and the list with "Fishing". And at that very moment had Cornelius Fillmore strolled into the room and taken a seat directly behind Ingrid's shoulder.
"That's very annoying," she spat, irritable from the hour and a half spent basking in the glow of the computer screen.
"Exactly," replied Fillmore, taking a bite out of an egg roll.
Ingrid turned her swivel chair around and glared at him.
"Now you're just teasing me," she glowered, referring to the egg roll.
They stared at each other for a brief moment, each one waiting for the other to make a move. Ingrid struck first.
She reached out and attempted to snatch the egg roll away from her partner, but Fillmore had anticipated the assault and quickly shoved what was left of the final morsel into his mouth and swallowed as if he was very satisfied with himself. And he was.
Ingrid was too proud to admit defeat, so she turned back to the computer screen and began to punch at the keyboard furiously.
Fillmore smirked, and reached into his oddly sized pocket, pulling out a small plastic bag of eggless egg rolls – her favourite. He placed them next to the mouse pad. Ingrid's acid green eyes snapped quickly to the slight movement at the side of her line of sight. She eyed the yellow package, but did not move to touch it.
Fillmore knew that she was not one to crack beneath a bribe, which was what the egg rolls he had offered were turning out to be. She was too proud. He was a little more laid back.
"Sorry," he stood up so he could walk around her desk and look at her.
He gave her a smile. She reached for an egg roll.
"It's okay," she shrugged, and then smiled after taking a bite from the treat.
"You know, you've stayed quite awhile already. Start heading home, I'll take a turn and look for a bit," he said, their previous scuffle a playful thing of the past that was probably going to repeat itself sometime in the near future.
"Found it," she said, right on cue.
She smiled. He smiled.
They got to work.
It was amazing ho things just seemed to fall into place when they worked with one another. He would say something, and then she would say something, then he'd counter it with a question, and she would remember something from the past and then they would be in Folsom's office listening to her rant and rave about what an amazing team they were.
Folsom didn't have to say a word. She knew that.
They didn't hang out very often. He knew that. He regretted that.
But on a rare occasion, a bright afternoon like this one, Fillmore and Ingrid found themselves lounging about in Headquarters, inhaling egg rolls and making paper airplanes.
"Fillmore," said Ingrid.
"Yes?"
But she didn't say anything after that.
Karen and Anza and Danny would tease them for months afterwards. Eventually, they'd grow tired of trying to goad their friends on in the right direction – towards each other.
Karen would sit gleefully at her desk and watch as Fillmore gazed over Ingrid's shoulder at the computer, tearing his eyes away from the screen every once and a while to look down into her raven hair.
Danny and Anza didn't pay much attention after Ingrid had stopped shooting them dark glares when they accused her of feelings for Fillmore. Karen was a little more keen than that.
"Me and Ingrid?" Fillmore shook his head, "When pigs fly."
But he couldn't help but smile one secret smile.
And from across the room, Ingrid smiled back.
fin.