Disclaimer: Um...yeah.
This is my first Fillmore fic, so be nice or I'll have to..um..I don't know yet. Gawd I'm stupid. OK, let's start this thing.
*/*/*
Ingrid Third turned left at the fork in the hallway, following her impulse.
"This better not be the wrong way again, or I swear I'll-" she said aloud, but stopped when she saw the tall, brown haired delinquent John Hasseney run out in front of her, closely trailed by Fillmore, who was gasping for breath with the exertion of the chase, which had been going on for almost half an hour straight now. Ingrid struggled to keep her mind on the chase instead of letting it wander to other things, but as she did this, she lost her concentration for a split second, and John immediately sensed this and charged straight through her, knocking her back and causing her to tumble to the ground. He ran off in the direction Ingrid had just come from. Fillmore hesitated in his pursuit of the criminal.
"You OK Ingrid?" he inquired.
She nodded quickly. "Go on. I'll catch up," she said hastily. He nodded and took off in hot pursuit of John. Ingrid picked herself up off the ground and followed after them, disgusted at herself. "Pull yourself together Third. You've got to catch this guy," she mumbled to herself, running a bit more slowly than normal because she wasn't sure that she even wanted to catch up. Who knew what kind of slip up she might make, and what it would cost them. Better to let Fillmore take this one and spare the safety patrol the humiliation of letting Hasseney evade them for the third time in a row. Ingrid did NOT want to get stuck dealing with overdue library book crap again.
She ran unenthusiastically for a bit longer until she came around a corner and came about three inches from colliding with Fillmore, who was standing still, breathing heavily. The chase had gone on for nearly forty-five minutes now, with no progress.
"We lose him again?" Ingrid questioned, panting ever so slightly. She hadn't been running nearly as hard as Fillmore had. He gave a grim nod and a hoarse sight.
"Third time," he said in disgust, shaking his head. "Better head back and get another 'I'm disappointed in this safety patrol' drill from Folsom."
They started off down the hallway once more.
"What I don't understand," Ingrid said "Is why a psychic would come down the same hallway as us, unless he were trying to lure us into something."
"Could be..." Fillmore said thoughtfully.
"We're getting stuck with overdue library book ticket duty again, aren't we?" Ingrid said in revulsion.
"Probably. Even worse than convention duty."
There was silence through the rest of the walk back to HQ.
*/*/*
"Again?" Valejo (I better have spelled it right. It looks wrong, somehow) asked. "You let John Hasseny escape again? Do you have any idea how annoyed Folsom's gonna be with this? "
Ingrid slammed her backpack down on her desk. "He's a scientifically proven psychic. What should Folsom expect?" she asked, extremely irritated at how high Folsom's expectations of the safety patrol were getting lately.
"Hey, you know Folsom. If you haven't done it right, you might as well have not even tried. Don't get me wrong, I know you guys tried, but Hasseney's a hard egg to crack," Valejo observed, watching Ingrid fume.
"They should just lock him up in some sort of 24/7 perpetual detention. I can't believe he got out last time, after how long it took those guys to catch him. And don't even give me that story about him being proven innocent. That 'evidence' in his defense was pure fabrication," Ingrid said, still outraged. She was getting more and more irritable lately.
"Calm down Ingrid," Fillmore said as he shoved a few more papers into his backpack. "I'm as fed up with Folsom as you are, but you don't have to take it out on Valejo."
"Sorry," Ingrid said guiltily.
Valejo shrugged it off and headed for the hot cocoa machine. "Forget about it."
Ingrid swung her backpack over her shoulders.
"Folsom is getting a little bit irrational with this whole thing," she said, cooling down a bit.
Fillmore slung his backpack on and adjusted the straps. "Maybe so, but if we get Hasseny she'll have to lay off for a while," he said, heading for the door. Ingrid shrugged and followed him.
"You have a point there," she said, shutting the door behind her.
*/*/*
OK, that chapter had nothing to do with the actual storyline. But I had to set the story. Bwah ha ha.
This is my first Fillmore fic, so be nice or I'll have to..um..I don't know yet. Gawd I'm stupid. OK, let's start this thing.
*/*/*
Ingrid Third turned left at the fork in the hallway, following her impulse.
"This better not be the wrong way again, or I swear I'll-" she said aloud, but stopped when she saw the tall, brown haired delinquent John Hasseney run out in front of her, closely trailed by Fillmore, who was gasping for breath with the exertion of the chase, which had been going on for almost half an hour straight now. Ingrid struggled to keep her mind on the chase instead of letting it wander to other things, but as she did this, she lost her concentration for a split second, and John immediately sensed this and charged straight through her, knocking her back and causing her to tumble to the ground. He ran off in the direction Ingrid had just come from. Fillmore hesitated in his pursuit of the criminal.
"You OK Ingrid?" he inquired.
She nodded quickly. "Go on. I'll catch up," she said hastily. He nodded and took off in hot pursuit of John. Ingrid picked herself up off the ground and followed after them, disgusted at herself. "Pull yourself together Third. You've got to catch this guy," she mumbled to herself, running a bit more slowly than normal because she wasn't sure that she even wanted to catch up. Who knew what kind of slip up she might make, and what it would cost them. Better to let Fillmore take this one and spare the safety patrol the humiliation of letting Hasseney evade them for the third time in a row. Ingrid did NOT want to get stuck dealing with overdue library book crap again.
She ran unenthusiastically for a bit longer until she came around a corner and came about three inches from colliding with Fillmore, who was standing still, breathing heavily. The chase had gone on for nearly forty-five minutes now, with no progress.
"We lose him again?" Ingrid questioned, panting ever so slightly. She hadn't been running nearly as hard as Fillmore had. He gave a grim nod and a hoarse sight.
"Third time," he said in disgust, shaking his head. "Better head back and get another 'I'm disappointed in this safety patrol' drill from Folsom."
They started off down the hallway once more.
"What I don't understand," Ingrid said "Is why a psychic would come down the same hallway as us, unless he were trying to lure us into something."
"Could be..." Fillmore said thoughtfully.
"We're getting stuck with overdue library book ticket duty again, aren't we?" Ingrid said in revulsion.
"Probably. Even worse than convention duty."
There was silence through the rest of the walk back to HQ.
*/*/*
"Again?" Valejo (I better have spelled it right. It looks wrong, somehow) asked. "You let John Hasseny escape again? Do you have any idea how annoyed Folsom's gonna be with this? "
Ingrid slammed her backpack down on her desk. "He's a scientifically proven psychic. What should Folsom expect?" she asked, extremely irritated at how high Folsom's expectations of the safety patrol were getting lately.
"Hey, you know Folsom. If you haven't done it right, you might as well have not even tried. Don't get me wrong, I know you guys tried, but Hasseney's a hard egg to crack," Valejo observed, watching Ingrid fume.
"They should just lock him up in some sort of 24/7 perpetual detention. I can't believe he got out last time, after how long it took those guys to catch him. And don't even give me that story about him being proven innocent. That 'evidence' in his defense was pure fabrication," Ingrid said, still outraged. She was getting more and more irritable lately.
"Calm down Ingrid," Fillmore said as he shoved a few more papers into his backpack. "I'm as fed up with Folsom as you are, but you don't have to take it out on Valejo."
"Sorry," Ingrid said guiltily.
Valejo shrugged it off and headed for the hot cocoa machine. "Forget about it."
Ingrid swung her backpack over her shoulders.
"Folsom is getting a little bit irrational with this whole thing," she said, cooling down a bit.
Fillmore slung his backpack on and adjusted the straps. "Maybe so, but if we get Hasseny she'll have to lay off for a while," he said, heading for the door. Ingrid shrugged and followed him.
"You have a point there," she said, shutting the door behind her.
*/*/*
OK, that chapter had nothing to do with the actual storyline. But I had to set the story. Bwah ha ha.