Fourth chapter.
Still stuck on titles. Any ideas? Let me know!
Might get a little detailed and/or graphic later on, but I'll let you know beforehand.
Okay, so, it's winter. December sometime. Decided to change seasons to sort of incorporate an idea from AlwaysWrite's All I Want For Christmas.
Yes, Ingrid was wearing shorts in the last chapter, but you know, she wears that dress all the time. If you're really bothered by the shorts, pretend they were pants. D
I don't know much about panic attacks, but I figured that fit best with what was going on with Ingrid in the last chappy.
Sorry if the chapters seem kinda random in what happens, but that's me for you. :D
Oh, and Peters, the German kid? He doesn't sound German, does he? I started thinking about that and went, "Okay, so he's from Germany, but he was adopted by somebody from America!" :D
--
Shout-out time!
Queen S of Randomness 016: Props? OMW, I GET PROPS:D
-cough- I'm good now. Thanks for reviewing. Hopefully chapter four doesn't disappoint you…
The sudden warmth and pressure on his shoulder had Fillmore jolting fully awake to find his mom standing by his bed, looking at him with a knowing smile.
"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked, sitting down next to him.
He knew she was still smiling even without looking up, but did so anyway, sighing, "I-it's about Ingrid."
Joelle's smile widened, and Fillmore continued, "I can't stop thinking about her panic attack and…and…"
The tears returned, and Joelle slid his glasses off, pulling him into a hug until the water had been turned off and only trickles remained.
He looked up at her, wiping at the last of his tears as he stammered, "I brought her there, Mom. I brought her back there, and she had a panic attack and couldn't breathe. She was shaking. She was shaking and not breathing and…I was so scared. I thought she was gonna die, and I blamed myself for it."
"It wasn't your fault, Cornelius. You were trying to help, being a good friend. You can't get in trouble for that."
Fillmore blinked. "I know. That's what everybody keeps telling me. But what do I do, Mom? I wanna help, but I don't want anybody getting hurt even more, especially not Ingrid."
His mom's smile was gentle as she told him softly, "I know, Ingrid's your friend and partner, right?"
He frowned, as if he couldn't believe she'd forgotten. "Right."
"And you know her pretty well, yes?"
"Very well," Fillmore corrected, eyebrows rising.
"Alright, very well," Joelle agreed with a laugh, continuing, "So you'd probably know if something was bothering her."
"Of course."
"Or if she was perfectly fine, correct?"
"Yeah. What's your point?"
"What do you see in her posture and everything else about her? What does it tell you about Ingrid and how she's getting along?"
She patted his back, smiling and heading for the door, turning around to say, "You're a Safety Patroller. You know about this sort of thing, and you know your partner. You can figure it out. In fact, you probably already have."
She smiled, adding, "If you don't hurry up, you're going to be late for your weekday morning constitutional with Ingrid. Most girls don't like to be kept waiting."
"Mom, this is Ingrid we're talking about. Ingrid is not 'most girls'."
His mother ignored him, closing the door behind her and leaving him to think over the conversation.
-F-
The birds were chirping, but Fillmore was too busy focusing on his mom's comments to pay attention to them.
He thought it over, knowing Joelle was right.
He knew Ingrid, could read her pretty well, and he definitely knew that she was nothing like 'most girls.'
She's smart, although everybody knows that. She's good at undercover assignments, she's funny, she's cute—whoa. Did I just think what I think I thought? What's with me? Ingrid's my best friend, nothing more, he told himself, setting his jaw before spotting Ingrid a little way up the street, juggling her backpack and a few books.
Frowning, he picked up his pace and was standing next to her just seconds later, asking, "Need some help, Third?"
He didn't wait for her to answer, just plucked her things out of her hands, put the books in the backpack, and slung the bag over his shoulder.
Ingrid gaped at him. "Uh, what are you doing?"
He tilted his head. "What's it look like? I'm carrying your stuff."
"Why, exactly?" Ingrid asked, eyes narrowed.
"Because you've got something on your mind and juggling all your stuff wasn't gonna help that fact. What's up?"
"It's nothing," she replied quickly—too quickly for his liking—and kept heading up the street.
He followed her, insisting, "Ingrid, I know you. Something's bugging you, and I'd like to know what it is."
"How come?"
"Ingrid," he frowned, halting their walk. "I'm your friend. If something's wrong, I wanna help."
His expression and tone softened as he asked, "Please?"
Ingrid sighed. "Can we keep walking? We're gonna be late."
"We can skip for all I care, so long as you share," Fillmore laughed, smiling down at her as they continued toward the school.
"I'm not really one for skipping, Fillmore," Ingrid grinned up at him, eyes sparkling once again.
"Yeah, I know. You gonna share now?"
Ingrid looked away, her face strangely unreadable.
Fillmore's frown returned as they kept walking in silence, trying to decipher the meaning of Ingrid's expression.
It was only after they'd reached HQ, were the only two in the room, and were heading for their desks before Ingrid finally spoke again.
"I've been thinking about what Tehama told me yesterday."
He looked over at her. "Oh?"
"Yeah. She said that anybody can see there's something more between us than just friendship."
"That's kind of what Anza told me, too. Of course, he used male jargon, but you know. Same basic idea." Fillmore grinned, but it faded when Ingrid smiled only weakly.
He moved in front of her, and when she didn't look up, he cupped a hand under her chin and gently forced her to look at him.
"Ingrid, are you saying you…" he swallowed nervously, "you've started thinking of us as more than friends?"
Another weak, nervous smile as Ingrid's face turned pink. "Kind of bad timing, huh?"
"No, I'd say it's perfect timing. Past time, even."
Fillmore's head snapped to his left and he found Anza, Tehama, and Vallejo standing in the doorway, grins on their faces as Anza laughed, "Tehama, looks like you owe me a Hershey bar."
"Hold on, Joseph," Tehama glared. "We don't know for sure that they're…a couple…"
"Well they sure seem like it to me, Karen," Anza laughed in return. "Heck, somebody asked me two years ago if they were dating."
Fillmore's jaw dropped, his face heating up as he looked at Ingrid, the pink turning to red as she looked up at him.
Before anyone could say anything more, Danny stumbled into the office, almost running into the old tripod, which had been decorated for the Christmas season with a strand of blinking red and green lights. When he finally straightened himself out, he gaped at the scene in front of him, exclaiming, "Holy fish sticks! Do you see what I see?"
"Yeah, O'Farrell, we see it."
"Have they kissed yet? Because I wanna get it on tape!" Danny declared, grabbing his video camera.
"Kissed? O'Farrell, they've barely admitted to liking each other. What do you need to get on tape? Did you plan this or something?" Vallejo asked, confused, his hand going to his head as usual.
Danny stared at him. "Don't you see where they're standing?" he asked, pointing.
"Next to their desks…?" Anza tried, but Danny shut them all up with, "No! Well, yes, but look up!"
They did as he said, looking back at Fillmore and Ingrid with smiles on their faces.
"What're you waiting for, Fillmore" Anza asked him with a sly grin, and Fillmore blinked. "Huh?"
Vallejo smacked himself in the forehead. "He didn't look up."
"Neither did Ingrid, from the looks of it," Tehama added.
Fillmore looked at Ingrid, who was looking at the others. Sure enough, she seemed lost, too, and he looked up to find mistletoe right above them.
His eyes widened and he looked back at his friends, who looked as though they were on the brink of laughter.
Go ahead, he saw Anza's lips move. You know you want to.
He looked back to Ingrid, who was still staring at O'Farrell as if in a trance.
Taking a breath, Fillmore noticed his hand was still under Ingrid's chin. His face grew warmer, but he ignored that fact and pulled Ingrid's face—and her lost gaze—toward his own.
Before he knew it, he'd pressed his lips to his partner's, and her eyes widened for a moment before the corners of her mouth turned upward as he pulled back, smiling nervously at her.
The rest of the Safety Patrol burst into applause, Anza adding a whistle, and Tehama a squeal, before Ingrid's eyes narrowed mischievously and she grinned at him in the same manner.
"Ingrid?" he asked her confusedly, frowning.
He didn't have time to say more; Ingrid's lips brushed his cheek, and he blinked.
"Cat got your tongue, Fillmore?" Anza asked, walking over to wink at him as Tehama flew out of the room with Ingrid in tow.
Fillmore didn't respond, just placed his hand on his cheek in surprise.
After a few minutes of silence, Vallejo declared, "Fillmore, maybe you oughta go home for a while."
"What? Vallejo, man, you—"
"Save it, Fillmore. It's obvious you're gonna be distracted."
"No I won't. I'll be perfectly fine. Come on, Vallejo, you know me. When have I ever been too distracted to focus on Safety Patrol stuff?"
Vallejo sighed. "Alright, since you're not gonna stop fighting me about it, and since you'd kill me if I made you go home, you can stay."
Fillmore smiled, and Vallejo warned, "But if you get too distracted for even one—"
"I won't, Vallejo. Don't worry," Fillmore interrupted, going to his desk and pulling a file from the small stack. Looking up, he asked, "Oh, could we get somebody to go look through the warehouse again? These idiots might've left clues to help us get positive IDs."
"Didn't Ingrid already tell you who they were?" Anza asked, an eyebrow raised.
"A couple of 'em, but she said there might've been one or two more she didn't recognize."
"Tehama, what is so urgent? And why do you keep dragging me into the bathroom, of all places?"
Karen ignored the question, demanding, "Do you realize what just happened back there?"
"Uh, Fillmore and I got stuck under the mistletoe and he kissed me?" Ingrid replied, her expression showing her thought: Duh, obvious?
Tehama shook her head exasperatedly, exclaiming, "No, no, no!" Seeing Ingrid's raised eyebrows, she admitted, "Okay, yes, he kissed you. But you were smiling and you kissed him back. I'll bet you a Hershey bar he's gonna be totally antsy around you from now on."
"You mean the same Hershey bar you apparently lost to Anza a minute ago?" Ingrid asked, giving Tehama a pointed look.
Tehama's shoulders dropped, but she laughed, "Actually, he'll give it back. He knows how much I love chocolate and feels bad if he takes it away from me."
"Okay, well, can we go back to HQ now? I'd like to get back to those files…"
"Ingrid!" Karen cried, her hands on Ingrid's shoulders. "You just kissed your best friend. Everybody in the building knows you've liked each other since middle school. Does this mean nothing to you?"
"Actually, no. It doesn't mean much. It's not that big a deal, Karen," Ingrid replied, turning around to leave the bathroom.
Karen groaned and followed her, muttering, "You're lying, Third. I can tell you are. You're totally overjoyed on the inside, you're just too…afraid to admit it to the world. Probably because of the rape, but come on! I thought you'd moved on, Ingrid."
Ingrid bristled, turning around so fast the world spun in front of her for a moment.
"Tehama," she began sharply, but at Karen's surprised look, stopped.
Both girls were silent as they returned to HQ and their desks, ignoring looks from fellow students.
A few moments later, Anza and Tehama left the room, and everyone headed to classes, muttering about end-of-term tests and projects coming up soon.
At the end of the day, having somehow ignored Fillmore and the rest of the Safety Patrol during classes and lunch, Ingrid practically ran out of X High, only stopping when a hand tugged at her jacket, pulling her backward.
She almost landed on her butt, but the person who'd caused her fall caught her before she ended up with wet jeans, and she found herself staring up at Fillmore.
Figures, she decided. I did sort of leave without waiting for him… Not to mention I ignored him all day…
Blinking as her partner helped her stand back up, she heard him say, "Tehama mentioned that you blew up on her before you two came back to HQ. Wanna tell me what happened?"
It wasn't a suggestion, Ingrid knew, it was a command. One she didn't particularly feel like complying with, but she knew Fillmore would follow her home and probably sit on the front porch all night until she talked, so she sighed and explained, "Tehama was asking me why I wasn't jumping for joy about…what happened in HQ, and I told her it wasn't a big deal. She told me she could tell I was lying and…"
Fillmore's eyebrows rose, and he prodded, "And what?"
Ingrid took a breath before looking up at him, continuing, "She said I was too afraid to admit that I was happy and she figured it was because of…because I was…you know…"
She blinked back tears as he looked down at her, his expression soft as he nodded.
"She…she told me she thought I'd moved on, and I snapped. I don't know why, but I got so mad and…I should have apologized, only I didn't."
Suddenly, Ingrid found herself wrapped in a hug, Fillmore's voice informing her, "I told Tehama you were probably sorry, just didn't feel like talking to anybody. She's okay. She's always got a chocolate bar around someplace, you know."
They both laughed, he let go of her, and they continued walking until they reached her street and Fillmore broke the silence with, "We think we know who the guys were for sure, Ingrid."
She stopped walking and stared at him. "How?"
"Vallejo sent a couple guys to the warehouse to look for evidence."
They continued walking in silence until they'd reached the walkway to Ingrid's house and she paused, looking up at him.
"Fillmore?"
"Third?" he grinned, leaning gently against the mailbox.
"Thanks."
He frowned. "What for, exactly?"
"For…being you. My partner. My friend. My best friend." She hesitated before adding, "Or…maybe something more…"
Fillmore chuckled. "Not exactly the best timing, was it?"
Ingrid shook her head. "Actually, I think it's perfect timing."
The frown returned, and she smiled. He has no idea how adorable that frown makes him…
"Fillmore, you said it yourself: I went through hell. If you were in my situation, wouldn't you want a friend to lean on? To get you through the ordeal?"
He blinked at her, not responding.
"Cornelius, are you even paying attention to the words I'm saying?" Ingrid asked, peering at her partner through narrowed eyes.
"Of course I am. I'm just not sure what to say," Fillmore answered, his expression backing the statement up.
"Well, do you get what I'm saying?"
"Yeah." He smiled. "Yeah, I think I do."
"And you agree with me? You'd want a good friend to help you deal?"
"Yeah. I would."
With a smile, Ingrid leaned closer to her partner, who frowned—until she kissed his cheek.
As she pulled away, Ingrid whispered, "Thanks for helping me deal, partner."
There ya go. Just over 2500 words.
Okay, if the end is confusing you, don't worry. I'm weird that way. :D
Basically, the two of them kissing seemed like good timing because Ingrid needs to learn to trust guys again. She already trusted Fillmore, but…erm…needed to prove it to herself? I'm honestly not entirely sure what my reasoning was, but it was something about trust and…yeah. Eh heh. I confused myself. –cough- o.o;;;
ANYway. That's chapter four.
A bunch of the stuff came from other Fillmore fics, and the part about Fillmore hanging out on Ingrid's front porch until she talked came from a Psych fic. But mainly it's ideas from other Fillmore fics (mostly AlwaysWrite and Abellen).
About Tehama's obsession with the bathroom…Yeah, that's complete randomness from my subconscious. A friend and I have a joke about girls having bathroom parties and talking about guys, so…that's probably what that is.
And in the last chapter, when Tehama and Anza "interrogate" Ingrid and Fillmore? Tehama's prolly a bit OOC in this fic, but whatever. She wants to talk to Ingrid about Fillmore for some random reason. Maybe she and Anza were discussing that before O'Farrell and when they saw Fillmore and Ingrid they decided to chat with them?
Aaaand I have no clue why I don't add anything about classes. Maybe I'm thinking in French or something, where they have random amounts of time with and without classes. I dunno.