First fic in YEARS. Wooo!
Just for kicks, I uploaded a random document. As it turns out, it contained one of my old scraps. So I decided to continue with it, and now I bring you this:)
UPDATED March 22, 2008: Changed time frame. Dialogue and storyline tweaks as well. The Patrollers ('cept Vallejo) are in sophomore year. And yes, Vallejo is in his junior year.
Why did I change the frame and storyline? It's hard to think of 'the biggest, most important day of my life' when the character's twelve, y'know. DX Plus the story seemed a little… bland, so I went in and detailed it. Yay. XD
RATING: T, for now.
DISCLAIMER: The Fillmore! characters belong to the owner, Scott Gimple. The fic belongs to me. Ayt?
CHAPTER SPECIFIC DISCLAIMER: 'The Sound of Music' is the intellectual property of Rodgers and Hammerstein.
SUMMARY: "Luck never gives, it only lends." A proverb played a hand in the life of Ingrid Third, when she thought that she had truly found 'The One'.
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So Much for Happy Endings
INTRODUCTION
"Luck never gives, it only lends."
I should've known that before.
I should've known that it wasn't going to last forever.
I felt like I was in a fairytale that time. My head was constantly in the clouds, and I was living the dream life. I also expected a happy ending.
But my expectations were wrong. I was played like a fool. The ending was far from happy; I don't even think that it should be compared to happy. Because on the biggest, most important day of my life, I found out what I wasn't supposed to know. Matter of fact, I found out everything I wasn't supposed to know.
But first. Let's start from the very beginning.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
2 YEARS AGO
"Let's start from the very beginning... a very good place to start..." chimed a member of the X High School's Drama Club in their rendition of 'The Sound of Music'. That day was the dress rehearsal for the big event tomorrow, and the Safety Patrol was on the auditorium grounds to make sure nothing went wrong.
"When you read, you begin with 'A-B-C'! When you sing you begin with Do-Re-Mi..."
Static noise.
"Fillmore." It was Joseph Anza, checking in with his fellow officer via walkie-talkie.
"It's Anza. Anything suspicious, perilous, et cetera?"
"Nope..." he replied. Almost immediately, however, Fillmore detected a twinge of a faint creaking noise. "Hold up," he added, searching for the source, eventually finding it. Time to shift into Superman mode…
"What?" came Anza's voice, unaware of the danger.
"KLIEG LIGHTS! THEY'RE GONNA FALL!" screamed officer Cornelius Fillmore, partially into his walkie-talkie, partially-- mostly, to the whole auditorium. He pointed to the two teetering spotlights suspended on a metal rod 25 feet above, at the same time ushering people out of the place.
Creak.
CREEEEEEAK.
CRASH!
One fell already. He had to get everyone out, stat.
"OWWWW! WATCH IT!"
Joseph Anza whirled around at the sound of Ingrid Third's high-pitched cry after some stampeding football player trying to run for his life (God knows what he was doing in a Drama Club function) knocked her over. Now, Anza knew as well as everyone that Third was a big girl. But for some reason, the way she screamed wasn't right. Just to make sure, he darted off to where she was patrolling, which was at the stage right.
Creak.
CREEEEEAK.
SNAP!
As Anza saw where Ingrid was, he froze in horror.
Ingrid was directly in the path of a falling stage light.
Regaining his words and strength, he ran to save the fallen Patroller.
"INGRID! LOOK OUT!"
CRASH!
10 MINUTES LATER
"Ingrid... the light..." muttered Anza, trying to shake off the heavy feeling in his head. He wasn't knocked unconscious; just that he was in a state of shock for ten minutes.
"INGRID!" He bolted up, all of a sudden.
"...what?" Ingrid Third muttered, wondering a) whose arm was on top of her and b) why he woke her up. "...Anza?" She said as she sat up slowly, taking in the scene. She looked in her opposite direction.
She eyed the pile of sharp glass, metal and colored cellophane that was once a gigantic, heavy stage light. She eyed the visible parts of a masking tape cross on the ground, now covered by the debris.Crackers! Her photographic memory sprang up. She recalled that she was patrolling that area...
"Joseph..." she said, calling him by his first name, a rarity in Safety Patrol business, "you saved my life."
She smiled and threw her arms around him. "Thanks. I dunno how I can repay you."
"Hey, it's what I do." he replied, embracing her as well.
For some odd reason, he wasn't happy because he saved Ingrid, but he was happy because he was with Ingrid. Her arms were around him... lingering a little too long, even. She found solace in her co-officer's gym built arms.
Everything was nice and good, until some rotund figure with a clipboard came along.
"Hey Anza, if you're done snogging Third over there, we need you back at HQ," came the voice of Commissioner Vallejo, "and Third? I'll take you to the nurse."
The two giggled their goodbyes as they went their separate ways.
TWO WEEKS LATER or ONE YEAR AND 11.5 MONTHS AGO
Spring Break
XHatesAnza has signed on at 3:42 PM
XHatesAnza (3:42:05): Yo Third
ingridthethird (3:42:06): Anza.
ingridthethird (3:42:07): what's up?
XHatesAnza (3:42:10): I'm bored.
XHatesAnza (3:42:23): There's nothing to do here at home...
XHatesAnza (3:42:28): nudge nudge
ingridthethird (3:42:29): Stop the sugarcoating, sweetie.
XHatesAnza (3:42:40): alright. mind if i come over?
XHatesAnza (3:43:01): better yet, wanna go somewhere?
ingridthethird (3:43:02): Let me think.
XHatesAnza (3:43:35): oh come on
ingridthethird (3:44:01): 'kay. Up for ice cream downtown?
XHatesAnza (3:44:10): Disco.
XHatesAnza (3:44:40): b there in five.
XHatesAnza has signed off.
Ingrid signed off as well, ignoring the 'You've Got Mail' alert that came.
DING.
Avoiding being fashionably late, Anza showed up at Ingrid's doorstep a few minutes later.
"Hey," Ingrid greeted, trying to act nonchalant, "let's go."
They walked in silence to Anza's motorcycle (don't ask how he got one), just relishing each other's company until they snapped out and stiffened a bit before Anza strapped on Ingrid's helmet.
But it wasn't that he didn't enjoy how close their faces were while he was adjusting the strap…
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
4:00 PM
"Where're Anza and Third?" Vallejo asked impatiently. They'd been waiting for an hour in some downtown ice cream parlor.
"What'd you tell them, Corny?" Danny O' Farrell asked, in reference to the invitations for their gathering.
"...lius," Fillmore sighed, "I specifically put in the email SAFETY PATROL'S EAT ALL YOU CAN, DRINK WHAT YOU CAN'T DAY TODAY - May 3 - 3:00 PM - The Cold Swirl. Dawwwg. Why're they so incompetent, yo?"
Everyone merely shrugged and proceeded to skim through the menus.
Karen Tehama was just going over the 'Syrup Add-Ons' page when she noticed someone… two someones, at that, walking through the glass door. She discreetly eyed the couple until they walked past their table, not giving a single glance, at which she immediately bolted up.
Tehama gave a skeptical look. "Uh, Fillmore? Maybe they're not incompetent, just blind," she said, gesturing to two ever-so-familiar people a few tables away. Blind and together, she hissed under her breath.
"Snap." Fillmore said, standing up, ready to march towards them.
"Let 'em go." Vallejo said, sighing and calling a waiter. "Let's just keep an eye on 'em."
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
4:10 PM
They settled in a booth after the waiter finished hassling a drunkard out of there.
"My treat. Order anything you want," Anza offered, with a wink.
"Mister Nice Guy," Ingrid replied, kicking his foot. He kicked back.
"Hmm… White Chocolate Peppermint Fluff sounds good," Ingrid remarked, eyes on the menu, but feet slipping out of Converse shoes.
"So does Double Velvet Fudge," Anza replied, stroking Ingrid's bare knee when he said 'Velvet', causing her to jump a bit.
"All of a sudden, I have a craving for Fondue," Ingrid said, pointing to some item in the menu, "I want fruits and marshmallows for dipping," she added, digging her rainbow-socked toes into Anza's shoes for added effect.
"Then I guess we're set," Anza replied, hailing a waitress.
After he repeated their orders, he added something else. "Oh, and one Strawberry Smoothie, please," he requested, while sliding his hand higher up Ingrid's leg. The waitress nodded, plunking down a ceramic customer number (incidentally, 69) on their table and scurrying off.
"Now that we've ordered, what do we do now?" Ingrid asked, suggestively rubbing her foot along Anza's ankle. He responded with a devilish smile.
"I have a few ideas…"
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
4:30 PM
Thirty minutes later, the patrollers were all stuffed. To get it off, they went to the arcade for a while. Halfway through the walkway, Tehama realized something.
"My bag!"
She darted off, back to the ice cream parlor. But she decided to stay by the door first to do some spying.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
"May I be excused?" asked Ingrid.
"Go ahead."
Anza waited for Ingrid to be out of his sight before proceeding to something he'd wanted to do all day.
Pulling out a ketchup-foil-pack-like thing from his pocket, he glanced around to see if anyone was looking. When the coast was clear, he ripped the thing open and dumped an anonymous white substance that was most definitely not ketchup into Ingrid's shake.
Looking up, he glanced around again. However, this time, the coast was not so clear.
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"Oh my-- " Tehama gasped as she saw Anza spiking Ingrid's drink with what looked to be GHB.
After regaining her composure, she remembered her bag and hurried back inside to grab it.
But not before making a stopover at Anza's table.
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Dramatic for a beginning?
Heh. Wait 'till you see the rising action. Oh, and by that time, rating will most likely go up to M.
R and R, please! Don't flame though. Save it for the next chapter.