Sunshine Girl, a fillmore fanfic

Started on November 25th, 2007; finished on Jamuary 8th, 2008.

Apparently I'm obsessed with Britt Nicole, because this is her song "Sunshine Girl". Well, most of it.

Set after Or Maybe Something More and For Better Or Worse (so read those before this one, maybe) and is sort of about Ingrid and Fillmore's lives as parents, considering it's set after two fics where A) they're married and B) Ingrid becomes a mother. We'll see what happens and where my imagination takes me…

The baby was born in June, so Ingrid didn't miss any school. And then they graduated that spring (May or June?), so she was a month old.

A Matter Of approval was that December, and they got married soon after, I guess. Christmas wedding, perhaps?

And they've been married, like, three or four years…

Okay, so my logic doesn't entirely make sense, but humor me, kay?

I apologize very much for the ending, but I wanted to post it and my imagination wasn't working correctly... Sorry!

Did you wake up on the right or the wrong side of the bed today?
Maybe your morning's running right on time or a little late

Ingrid trudged into the kitchen, which Fillmore found very abnormal. Usually, Ingrid was the chipper one and he was crabby—at least until after he'd had something to eat. But this morning, she must've gotten up on the wrong side of the bed or something, because she didn't even say "good morning" like she usually did, just muttered something unintelligible and sank into the chair across from him.

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?" Fillmore asked, grinning and hoping she would too.

No such luck.

"Mffff," was Ingrid's grumbled reply, and Fillmore frowned.

"Care to enunciate?"

"No."

"Third," he sighed, reverting to Ingrid's maiden name as he did only when he was teasing or annoyed with her.

That earned him a raised head and a slight glare, so he continued, "Okay, what happened?"

Ingrid lowered her chin onto her arms, which were resting on the table, and explained plainly, "Kind of a sleepless night."

His frown returned. "Really?"

"Uh huh. You were sound asleep, but I couldn't sleep. Not for a while, anyway."

"Like how long?" Fillmore asked cautiously.

"Just an hour or two…"

Anyone else would have believed her, but Fillmore knew better.

"Third," he declared, his tone just harsh enough to get her to submit.

"Okay, fine, more like three."

He gave her a pointed stare and she confessed in that exasperated tone, "All right, so it was five."

Fillmore blinked, incredulous. "Ingrid, you should've woken me up."

"Hey, you've been on toddler duty the past few days. You were exhausted."

"Well, so are you, now," he countered.

"That's irrelevant."

"You're being illogical," he informed her.

"You're obnoxious," she replied shortly.

"You're delusional." He grinned.

"That's not funny."

"And you're a genius."

He stood up, pushed in his chair, and leaned over to press a kiss on the top of her head.

"So you're too tired to go wake up the little one, I take it?"

She didn't respond, just glared at him, and he laughed. "I'll go get her."

Head out
Traffic's slow on the interstate
Take the back way
Will this be a good or a bad day?
Well don't you worry

Dawg, little girls are difficult.

Fillmore was ready for a nap, and he'd only had to get his step-daughter into her car seat! Of course, he'd been looking after her the past few nights and was already tired…

But she's really a good girl, he reminded himself. She's polite, bright, not to mention adorable…She really takes after her mother. Tough not to like her.

He had to grin at the thought, but it faded when he realized the route he usually took to get to Carly's preschool was busier than normal.

Guess we're taking the scenic route…It's a good thing Ingrid stayed home today: she'd be crabbier if she was driving. But at least she'd have Carly for company…

I could be your sunshine girl
Or the company for your misery
I could be the quiet one
Or the life of the party
Whatever you need, I'm your girl

With that thought, Fillmore realized that it was true, what that old song meant about children: they were the sunshine in their families' lives. That was especially true with Carly; the little girl could brighten anyone's day.

When you show up does everybody smile and wave or look away?

Finally he reached the preschool and, after managing to distract Carly, had gotten out of the building. As he got back in his car, he realized he'd forgotten his hat and badge at home and headed back to the house.

When he walked in the door, he noticed Ingrid had found breakfast—although the only thing he saw missing from the kitchen counter was a banana—and could hear her moving around upstairs. In fact, it sounded like she was heading down the stairway.

Sure enough, she appeared in the kitchen doorway seconds later, dressed for the day with his hat dangling from her finger.

"Forget something?" she grinned.

"Two things, actually," Fillmore replied, walking over to take his hat back. But before he could reach for it, Ingrid's hand moved behind her back, taking his hat with it, and he frowned.

"Sure, now you're in a good mood," he exclaimed, rolling his eyes a bit.

Ingrid mocked-glared at him, declaring, "Looks like I'm keeping your hat."

He frowned. "Is my hat the only thing you've got?"

"Why? Did you forget something else, too?"

She was trying to look innocent, like she had no clue, but he figured she was faking it and stated, "Um, my badge."

"Oh, riiiiight," Ingrid smiled, and he took another step towards her, putting them almost nose-to-nose.

Neither moved a muscle, save for blinking, until he asked, "So where'd I leave it?"

"How should I know?" Ingrid asked, keeping her innocent face in place.

"You know, I'm gonna be late for work if you don't give me my stuff back…"

"Well that's your own fault," Ingrid replied, her eyes twinkling.

"I'm already late."

"Again, your own fault."

"Really?" Fillmore asked, grinning mischievously as he slipped his hands behind her back and closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers. He smiled triumphantly to himself when Ingrid's eyes closed and quickly moved his right hand to slip his hat from her finger. Seconds later, Ingrid broke away and glared at him, and he shrugged.

"Hey, I need my hat."

Ingrid crossed her arms over her chest, stating, "Of all the—"

"Hey, you weren't giving back my hat," Fillmore smiled, and Ingrid replied, "Well, you could've asked."

"Would you have returned it?" he asked, giving her a pointed stare.

She grinned sheepishly. "Probably not."

"Exactly. I would've had to take it back anyway. Now, are you sure you don't know where my badge went?"

"Yes."

"Positive?" Fillmore asked, now nose-to-nose with Ingrid, who didn't flinch as she echoed, "Positive."

He smiled sheepishly. "Good. Because I just realized it's in my pocket."

It was Ingrid's turn to roll her eyes, and she stared at him pointedly. "See? Had you been paying more attention, you wouldn't have this problem."

"Problem? I don't see a problem. What problem are you talking about?" Fillmore asked, frowning playfully.

"Uh, you being late for work," Ingrid reminded him, her expression inquisitive.

"Oh, that," Fillmore replied, a hand going to his forehead in a good enough imitation of Vallejo that Ingrid chuckled.

"He's still got that habit?"

"Of course. Remember, I still need a babysitter." Fillmore grinned. "Unfortunately, Vallejo hasn't been able to find one. I guess nobody works with me as well as you."

"Cute, Cornelius," Ingrid acknowledged, stealing his hat back.

"Hey, I kinda need that…"

"Oh, I know."

"May I have it back then?"

"Nope."

Fillmore sighed, tipping his head and groaning slightly. "What's it gonna cost me?"

As Ingrid considered the question, with her head tilted and her gaze directed toward the ceiling, Fillmore took the opportunity to repeat his previous success, this time placing his hat firmly on his head before Ingrid could retaliate. By the time she realized he'd taken the hat back, she was too amused to do anything and just shook her head, chuckling, "Just go to work before Vallejo calls and bursts one of our eardrums."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Fillmore agreed, grinning and dropping a kiss on her cheek before heading back out the door.

Are you feeling beautiful or is this a bad hair day?
Maybe you're falling so in love or your heart is about to break
Will this be a good or a bad day?
Well either way

Walking into the "jailhouse" fifteen minutes late wasn't the greatest idea in the world, especially when Vallejo was already in a bad mood. One of the other cops informed him of the Chief's frustration and Fillmore had to chuckle as he knocked on Vallejo's open door.

"I'm assuming you wanna know I'm here?"

"Fillmore. Come in and close the door."

Vallejo's voice was even, but Fillmore could tell something was lurking below the surface, something big, and he tried to lighten the mood.

"You know, whatever you're gonna say to me will probably be audible out there, so we may as well leave the door open…"

"Cornelius, I gave you an order."

"Allrightythen…" Fillmore answered, closing the door behind him and leaning against it, waiting for the outburst he knew was coming.

But before Vallejo blew up, Fillmore asked, "Uh, Vallejo? Did you get a hair cut recently?"

"Huh?" Vallejo was obviously distracted by the question, his hand flying to his head.

A short list of surprising language left his mouth, and Fillmore's eyebrows rose.

"Problem, Dutch?"

"Oh, I must've forgotten to comb it this morning…"

"Uh huh…" Yeah, that's why you just cursed for five consecutive seconds...

"Okay, where was I?"

"You were about to commend me for a job well done and let me take the rest of the week off," Fillmore replied seriously, giving Vallejo his best "You know it's true" expression before his old friend glared at him.

"Nice try, Fillmore, but no dice."

Fillmore feigned disappointment and Vallejo's glare intensified.

"Careful, Cornelius. I could fire you for insubordination and you know it."

Fillmore's eyebrows rose and he replied, "You're too enamored with that new girlfriend of yours to fire anybody for something that minor and you know it."

Vallejo's jaw dropped and Fillmore took the chance to exit the office with a grin plastered to his face as Vallejo stared after him.

I could be your sunshine girl
Or the company for your misery
I could be the quiet one
Or the life of the party

Whatever you need, I'm your girl

Fillmore couldn't help but smile as he walked in the door after work.

And why shouldn't I? He wondered. An adorable little girl who smiles and laughs every time she sees her favorite people would brighten anybody's day.

Of course, the other half of his brain reminded him, Ingrid could make anybody smile, too.

Depending on her mood, anyway.

Oh, come on. You love teasing her, and as much as she tries to deny it, she does, too.

Oh, be quiet.

Thankfully, his thoughts were interrupted by his grinning step-daughter, who was clinging to his leg squealing, "Daddy's home! Daddy's home!"

As Fillmore knelt down next to her, he dropped his hat onto her considerably smaller head and grinned as she asked, "Where the lights go?"

"Who turned off the lights, you mean, Car?" He asked, chuckling and tipping the hat up so she could see.

When her eyes were no longer hidden, the little girl crossed her arms over her chest and insisted, "Where the lights go!"

Fillmore laughed, picking her up and relenting, "Okay, that works, too."

He tapped her nose, asking, "Got a kiss for me?"

Carly giggled, shaking her head under the hat, which didn't move.

Fillmore feigned disappointment for the second time that day, frowning at the little girl, who was clearly her mother's daughter, and declaring, "Well, I guess you don't get a cookie after supper tonight, then."

Those little eyes grew to the size of saucers and Carly threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Fillmore laughed, setting her down and returning the hat to his head as he told her, "Look's like it's almost time for Flora…"

Again, those big eyes widened, and Carly could be heard pronouncing joyously, "Flora, Flora, Flora!" as she ran for the living room.

Fillmore shook his head, smiling after her as Ingrid pushed herself away from the kitchen doorframe and asked curiously, "Cookies?"

With a smile, Fillmore explained, "Oh, O'Farrell's mom sent him cookies at the precinct today. Unfortunately for him, she included a few that he's semi-allergic to. So he gave them to me."

"Ah," was Ingrid's smiled reply as she once again tried to steal his hat.

"Oh, not this time, Third," Fillmore grinned, catching her hands and holding them off to her sides as she mock-glared at him.

"Aw, c'mon, Third," Fillmore almost whined, moving his face closer to hers. "I'm cute and you know it."

"Oh, yeah, real adorable."

"Well, you thought so in Middle School…" he reminded her, smiling at the memory.

Ingrid just blinked for a second, then submitted, "Yeah…But that was quite a few years ago."

"Then how come you still put up with me?"

He tweaked her nose, grinning as she turned pink and turned her head.

"You're still adorable when you do that, you know," Fillmore smiled, pulling her toward him a few more inches.

Ingrid turned her head, that familiar blush darkening her cheeks, and Fillmore grinned. "Remember the first time I told you you're adorable?"

Ingrid's gaze met his and she nodded. "How could I forget? You dumped ice in my lap!"

"Excuse me? That is not what happened," Fillmore replied, frowning.

"Then what did happen, Detective?"

"I threw a snowball at you and it landed against your leg." Fillmore shook his head. "And you're supposed to have a photographic memory…"

"Hey!" Ingrid's glare was resentful.

Fillmore grinned, placing both of her hands in his left and lifting his right, Ingrid's gaze flickering a bit at the movement.

Keeping Ingrid's hands firmly in his own, Fillmore's grin widened as he kissed her once again, this time letting his eyes close as Ingrid's had seconds earlier.

They were interrupted and pulled back down to Earth by Carly, who asked, "Mommy Daddy watch Flora too?"

Fillmore grinned as he let go of Ingrid's hands and turned to Carly. "Yeah, Mommy and Daddy will watch Flora with you."

"Yay!" Carly exclaimed, clapping and grabbing both their hands, pulling them toward the living room.

Fillmore and Ingrid exchanged glances, then laughed. Ingrid picked Carly up, and the little girl giggled until Ingrid set her on the couch, where she moved so that she was between Ingrid and Fillmore, who again exchanged smiles.

Fillmore was sure they were both glad to have Carly, their own little ray of sunshine.

With lyrics, about 2400 words. Without, about 2200.

Vallejo's first name is really Dutch (thanks to Wikipedia), and Flora was made up. I was thinking toddlers and TV shows and went, "Dora!" Only I wasn't going to put Dora, so I took some poetic license and changed it to Flora. Yeah. Please don't sue me for that.