Title: The Scales Tipped
Rating: PG
Hmmm. I don't really like this chapter 0_o. Oh well, I know you'll all want to read it anyway, huh. Thank you all so much for your reviews last chapter. And about Fillmore's fish: I have no idea how to spell its name. So Thelonius will have to do, unless someone out there knows how to spell it and would be so kind as to tell me!
Blackheart Syaoran- Whoops. My bad. Luthor. With an 'o'. Got it. ^^; I'm sorry there are no references in this chapter for you to snap up, but Ingrid hasn't even gotten started yet on Fillmore. Next chapter, I promise!
Kat59- Thank you! ^^
Beth- Ack! I've been glomped! **feels loved** Yeah, I'm up for it. But I still have no clue where to start.
Chris- Maybe. **smiles secretively**
soulful-sin- Thank you so much for your comments. It's nice to get some constructive criticism. I've been meaning to go back and fix those punctuation errors. I'm surprised no one else has mentioned them. And someone else agrees with me that Ingrid is OOC! I see what you mean about the whole 'pilot' thing, but I wanted to get away from the real course of the episode as fast as I could. We all know what happens, we've seen it a million times, and I didn't want to have to write it all over again. I guess my story is stemming from 'What if Parnassus had been caught before the stink bomb was set off.'. You're right though, it's not a full reversal. As for the suspected surprise, it's an oxymoron! XD I love oxymorons, they're lots of fun! ^^
The Crimson Lugia- Yay! I have kudo points! XD
________
'So what you're telling me is that you don't think she should be expelled?'
'Yes. That's what I'm telling you.'
Principal Folsom raised a critical eyebrow. 'And why is that again?'
'It's what she wants to happen. If you let her be expelled, she's won.'
'As far as I'm concerned, if she wants to leave then let her go. I don't have time to deal with delinquents at X, no matter how smart they are. Better she leave and deface another principal's property.'
'You can be sure she will. And then she'll be expelled and shipped off to another school. This cycle has to stop, and you have the opportunity to put it to an end.' He crossed his arms in defiance, she eyed him up.
'Fillmore, the last time I checked it was the jury's decision and not mine whether or not Third would be expelled.' She leaned back in her massage chair and closed her eyes, obviously trying to dismiss him.
'But we both know the jury will find her guilty, and the penalty will probably be expulsion.'
'You still fail to clarify what this has to do with me.'
'You're the principal.'
'And?'
'You have strings attached to every single one of your fingers. So pull some.'
Folsom looked up at him. He was standing in the center of her office with his arms still crossed and his brow creased as he stared her down. 'Officer Fillmore, are you suggesting that I interfere with the course of justice?'
'Not at all. Just tip the scales in the desired direction.'
The phone rang. Folsom glanced quickly from it to Fillmore, and then pushed the speaker button. 'Yes?'
'Excuse me Principal Folsom, but I got Mr. Third like you asked me. He's on line two.'
'Thank you Cynthia. I'll take it now.' She picked up the phone and spoke into the receiver. 'Hello Mr. Third. This is Principal Folsom from X Middle School. I'm calling in regards to your daughter, Ingrid.'
There was a pause where Fillmore could hear someone talking on the other end of the line. Folsom motioned with her hand for him to leave. 'I'm afraid I have some rather distressing news.'
Fillmore walked resignedly down the empty hallways back towards headquarters. This was garbage. Expelling Ingrid Third would only be playing into her hands. There had to be something else he could do, someone else he could talk to. But Folsom had a point. What he was doing was edging very close to interfering with the course of justice. Would letting Third get away with her little game be justice though?
It was probably best to leave things alone. Fillmore sighed. He was acting rashly. Going straight to Folsom without thinking things over first had been a mistake. He sat down at his desk and took a bottle of fish food out of the drawer. Thelonius gratefully ate the flakes that were sprinkled across the surface of the water in his fish bowl. Fillmore put the food away and glanced down at the paper work someone had left on his desk. He still needed to fill out a report for that chalk boost he had busted up last week. Later. He put the papers in his drawer along with the fish food.
'Something wrong?'
Fillmore looked up from where he had buried his face in his hands. Danny was regarding him inquisitively. He managed a weak but convincing smile. 'Just a bit worn out.'
'I'm a shaken up too. I had to take photos of that graffiti work this morning,' Danny shuddered. 'I'm not going to be able to sleep for weeks.'
'It comes with the job, man.'
'Maybe, but there's no getting used to it. It was gruesome.'
'You'll be alright, Danny. Just try not to think about it too much.' Fillmore could only smile as he thought about Danny's own attempts at artwork. At least it was clearly obvious what Third had painted.
'Hey Fillmore!' Karen called out. She made her way over to stand next to Danny. 'That Third was some piece of work, eh? I've never seen anyone so apathetic to a crime they've committed. Most people are sorry, or boast about it, or put up a struggle with the officers just to make trouble. But this girl, she was completely neutral. I have no clue what to make of her.'
'You've seen people who are sorry for the crimes they've committed?' Fillmore smirked. 'More like sorry they've been caught.'
'Case and point, Fillmore,' Tehama gave him a meaningful look.
'Who said I was sorry?'
She gave a little chuckle at that. 'Whatever you say, Fillmore.' She waved and went back to work, Danny followed. The smile on Fillmore's face quickly faded. Karen was right. Third was quite the piece of work. And the fact was that she was criminal.
The following Monday he entered the office early to find it busy with activity. Vallejo was in an uproar over something or other, and the officers were buzzing with conversation. He made his way over to Anza, who was standing a bit aloof from everyone else. 'What's going on?'
Joseph glanced at him. 'I suppose you haven't heard yet, then. Otherwise you'd be as upset as the rest of them are.' He handed Fillmore a sheet of paper. 'Here.'
He scanned the writing. It was a list of names. 'What's this?'
'It's the list of jury members for Ingrid Third vs. X Middle School.'
Fillmore looked it over again with this in mind. 'Alvin Jessop, Carlee Granger, Lily Breacon, Francis Cunard.' He looked up at Anza in disbelief. 'But Jessop is a part of the committee of students petitioning for the legalization of graffiti at school. Granger and Breacon are members of the Psychology Club. They've been working for easier sentences on criminals for years. Terry Devon, isn't he the one insists on skateboarding through the hallways?'
Anza nodded.
'With these people on the jury Third's gonna get off with next to nothing.'
'Darn right she is. And no one can figure who would've had it in mind to rig the jury list, let alone the resources to pull it off. This is such a mess. Vallejo's lost it over this one. He spent 20 minutes on the phone with Folsom this morning trying to get her to disband the jury on the pretence that it had been meddled with. But there's no proof, and he knew it. He just couldn't let it go without a fight.'
Folsom. Fillmore set his face grimly. So she had decided to pull some strings after all. He wondered what exactly Mr. Third had said to her that had gotten her to change her mind on the issue.
'Where're you going?' Anza asked, noting the officer's dim expression.
'To watch the trial.'
________
Ingrid Third gave a rather pronounced yawn. She'd never really had much of a problem with mornings, but the trial was too boring for words. She'd seen too many of them to find the proceedings even remotely interesting anymore. But the jury was slightly fascinating despite it all. Some of them were outright punks, slouching in their chairs with their pants half down. The student judge made a rather ruthless motion for one of the boys to take off his baseball cap. He did so, but not without a distinct rolling of the eyes. The general disdain for authority was evident. There were two girls sitting next to each other who were very clean cut, sitting erect in their chairs. They seemed to be throwing the judge dirty glances every time he looked their way. Another girl sitting in the back row was staring off into space, absentmindedly popping her gum. The sound of it was enough to drive Ingrid mad. God, she couldn't wait to get out of here.
But the jury was enough to confirm some of her suspicions. And when Fillmore entered the courtroom, the matter was settled in her mind. She had recognized his stubborn attitude the moment he approached her in the hallway on Friday morning. She had to give him credit for not buying her act of delinquency as genuine rebellion. Most people couldn't see past it. But he saw it for the petty act of manipulation that it was. He knew she only did it for the sake of leaving the school. And thanks to his stubborn attitude, he didn't want to let her get away with leaving. Get away with escape. An interesting idea really: getting caught was her escape. But this Officer Fillmore, he wanted to let her go. And apparently he was about to.
The girl in the back row popped her gum. Ingrid did her best not to flinch. The School finished submitting its numerous exhibits and concluded before the jury, who really couldn't care less, Ingrid Third was guilty and should be punished to the full extent of the law. The two prim girls bristled at that.
'Does the defendant wish to make a statement in her defense?' the judge asked. Ingrid, who had declined a lawyer, stood behind her table and looked at the jury.
'No thank you.'
The prosecutor glanced at the judge and shrugged, who shrugged back. 'The jury will retire to decide on sentencing.'
The members filed out in a rather unorderly fashion, leaving the courtroom humming with whispers. Ingrid leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Did she really want to stay at X? No. Not at all. But it looked like she'd have to for the time being. She didn't want to get her father into trouble with Principal Folsom; she knew that he at least had pleaded a case for her to remain at X. And no one except the Principal could have rigged the jury list on such short notice. No one else cared whether or not she stayed, really. Except Fillmore. And she would have ample opportunity to make him regret that.
A short 15 minutes later the jury filed back in. 'Has the jury reached a verdict?' asked the judge.
'We have, your honor,' replied one of the two proper girls, and handed him a small piece of paper.
The judge gave it a once over before reading aloud. 'Will the defense please rise.' Ingrid stood. 'The defendant is sentenced to 3 weeks of detention, 40 hours of community service, and must clean her graffiti from the lockers in A-Hall.'
No, not a surprise at all. She picked up her bag and breezed out of the hearing room straight past Fillmore who she didn't spare a glance for. His eyes followed her down the hall.
________
Next Chapter: Ingrid starts in on her detentions and meets some of X's notorious criminals.
Rating: PG
Hmmm. I don't really like this chapter 0_o. Oh well, I know you'll all want to read it anyway, huh. Thank you all so much for your reviews last chapter. And about Fillmore's fish: I have no idea how to spell its name. So Thelonius will have to do, unless someone out there knows how to spell it and would be so kind as to tell me!
Blackheart Syaoran- Whoops. My bad. Luthor. With an 'o'. Got it. ^^; I'm sorry there are no references in this chapter for you to snap up, but Ingrid hasn't even gotten started yet on Fillmore. Next chapter, I promise!
Kat59- Thank you! ^^
Beth- Ack! I've been glomped! **feels loved** Yeah, I'm up for it. But I still have no clue where to start.
Chris- Maybe. **smiles secretively**
soulful-sin- Thank you so much for your comments. It's nice to get some constructive criticism. I've been meaning to go back and fix those punctuation errors. I'm surprised no one else has mentioned them. And someone else agrees with me that Ingrid is OOC! I see what you mean about the whole 'pilot' thing, but I wanted to get away from the real course of the episode as fast as I could. We all know what happens, we've seen it a million times, and I didn't want to have to write it all over again. I guess my story is stemming from 'What if Parnassus had been caught before the stink bomb was set off.'. You're right though, it's not a full reversal. As for the suspected surprise, it's an oxymoron! XD I love oxymorons, they're lots of fun! ^^
The Crimson Lugia- Yay! I have kudo points! XD
________
'So what you're telling me is that you don't think she should be expelled?'
'Yes. That's what I'm telling you.'
Principal Folsom raised a critical eyebrow. 'And why is that again?'
'It's what she wants to happen. If you let her be expelled, she's won.'
'As far as I'm concerned, if she wants to leave then let her go. I don't have time to deal with delinquents at X, no matter how smart they are. Better she leave and deface another principal's property.'
'You can be sure she will. And then she'll be expelled and shipped off to another school. This cycle has to stop, and you have the opportunity to put it to an end.' He crossed his arms in defiance, she eyed him up.
'Fillmore, the last time I checked it was the jury's decision and not mine whether or not Third would be expelled.' She leaned back in her massage chair and closed her eyes, obviously trying to dismiss him.
'But we both know the jury will find her guilty, and the penalty will probably be expulsion.'
'You still fail to clarify what this has to do with me.'
'You're the principal.'
'And?'
'You have strings attached to every single one of your fingers. So pull some.'
Folsom looked up at him. He was standing in the center of her office with his arms still crossed and his brow creased as he stared her down. 'Officer Fillmore, are you suggesting that I interfere with the course of justice?'
'Not at all. Just tip the scales in the desired direction.'
The phone rang. Folsom glanced quickly from it to Fillmore, and then pushed the speaker button. 'Yes?'
'Excuse me Principal Folsom, but I got Mr. Third like you asked me. He's on line two.'
'Thank you Cynthia. I'll take it now.' She picked up the phone and spoke into the receiver. 'Hello Mr. Third. This is Principal Folsom from X Middle School. I'm calling in regards to your daughter, Ingrid.'
There was a pause where Fillmore could hear someone talking on the other end of the line. Folsom motioned with her hand for him to leave. 'I'm afraid I have some rather distressing news.'
Fillmore walked resignedly down the empty hallways back towards headquarters. This was garbage. Expelling Ingrid Third would only be playing into her hands. There had to be something else he could do, someone else he could talk to. But Folsom had a point. What he was doing was edging very close to interfering with the course of justice. Would letting Third get away with her little game be justice though?
It was probably best to leave things alone. Fillmore sighed. He was acting rashly. Going straight to Folsom without thinking things over first had been a mistake. He sat down at his desk and took a bottle of fish food out of the drawer. Thelonius gratefully ate the flakes that were sprinkled across the surface of the water in his fish bowl. Fillmore put the food away and glanced down at the paper work someone had left on his desk. He still needed to fill out a report for that chalk boost he had busted up last week. Later. He put the papers in his drawer along with the fish food.
'Something wrong?'
Fillmore looked up from where he had buried his face in his hands. Danny was regarding him inquisitively. He managed a weak but convincing smile. 'Just a bit worn out.'
'I'm a shaken up too. I had to take photos of that graffiti work this morning,' Danny shuddered. 'I'm not going to be able to sleep for weeks.'
'It comes with the job, man.'
'Maybe, but there's no getting used to it. It was gruesome.'
'You'll be alright, Danny. Just try not to think about it too much.' Fillmore could only smile as he thought about Danny's own attempts at artwork. At least it was clearly obvious what Third had painted.
'Hey Fillmore!' Karen called out. She made her way over to stand next to Danny. 'That Third was some piece of work, eh? I've never seen anyone so apathetic to a crime they've committed. Most people are sorry, or boast about it, or put up a struggle with the officers just to make trouble. But this girl, she was completely neutral. I have no clue what to make of her.'
'You've seen people who are sorry for the crimes they've committed?' Fillmore smirked. 'More like sorry they've been caught.'
'Case and point, Fillmore,' Tehama gave him a meaningful look.
'Who said I was sorry?'
She gave a little chuckle at that. 'Whatever you say, Fillmore.' She waved and went back to work, Danny followed. The smile on Fillmore's face quickly faded. Karen was right. Third was quite the piece of work. And the fact was that she was criminal.
The following Monday he entered the office early to find it busy with activity. Vallejo was in an uproar over something or other, and the officers were buzzing with conversation. He made his way over to Anza, who was standing a bit aloof from everyone else. 'What's going on?'
Joseph glanced at him. 'I suppose you haven't heard yet, then. Otherwise you'd be as upset as the rest of them are.' He handed Fillmore a sheet of paper. 'Here.'
He scanned the writing. It was a list of names. 'What's this?'
'It's the list of jury members for Ingrid Third vs. X Middle School.'
Fillmore looked it over again with this in mind. 'Alvin Jessop, Carlee Granger, Lily Breacon, Francis Cunard.' He looked up at Anza in disbelief. 'But Jessop is a part of the committee of students petitioning for the legalization of graffiti at school. Granger and Breacon are members of the Psychology Club. They've been working for easier sentences on criminals for years. Terry Devon, isn't he the one insists on skateboarding through the hallways?'
Anza nodded.
'With these people on the jury Third's gonna get off with next to nothing.'
'Darn right she is. And no one can figure who would've had it in mind to rig the jury list, let alone the resources to pull it off. This is such a mess. Vallejo's lost it over this one. He spent 20 minutes on the phone with Folsom this morning trying to get her to disband the jury on the pretence that it had been meddled with. But there's no proof, and he knew it. He just couldn't let it go without a fight.'
Folsom. Fillmore set his face grimly. So she had decided to pull some strings after all. He wondered what exactly Mr. Third had said to her that had gotten her to change her mind on the issue.
'Where're you going?' Anza asked, noting the officer's dim expression.
'To watch the trial.'
________
Ingrid Third gave a rather pronounced yawn. She'd never really had much of a problem with mornings, but the trial was too boring for words. She'd seen too many of them to find the proceedings even remotely interesting anymore. But the jury was slightly fascinating despite it all. Some of them were outright punks, slouching in their chairs with their pants half down. The student judge made a rather ruthless motion for one of the boys to take off his baseball cap. He did so, but not without a distinct rolling of the eyes. The general disdain for authority was evident. There were two girls sitting next to each other who were very clean cut, sitting erect in their chairs. They seemed to be throwing the judge dirty glances every time he looked their way. Another girl sitting in the back row was staring off into space, absentmindedly popping her gum. The sound of it was enough to drive Ingrid mad. God, she couldn't wait to get out of here.
But the jury was enough to confirm some of her suspicions. And when Fillmore entered the courtroom, the matter was settled in her mind. She had recognized his stubborn attitude the moment he approached her in the hallway on Friday morning. She had to give him credit for not buying her act of delinquency as genuine rebellion. Most people couldn't see past it. But he saw it for the petty act of manipulation that it was. He knew she only did it for the sake of leaving the school. And thanks to his stubborn attitude, he didn't want to let her get away with leaving. Get away with escape. An interesting idea really: getting caught was her escape. But this Officer Fillmore, he wanted to let her go. And apparently he was about to.
The girl in the back row popped her gum. Ingrid did her best not to flinch. The School finished submitting its numerous exhibits and concluded before the jury, who really couldn't care less, Ingrid Third was guilty and should be punished to the full extent of the law. The two prim girls bristled at that.
'Does the defendant wish to make a statement in her defense?' the judge asked. Ingrid, who had declined a lawyer, stood behind her table and looked at the jury.
'No thank you.'
The prosecutor glanced at the judge and shrugged, who shrugged back. 'The jury will retire to decide on sentencing.'
The members filed out in a rather unorderly fashion, leaving the courtroom humming with whispers. Ingrid leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Did she really want to stay at X? No. Not at all. But it looked like she'd have to for the time being. She didn't want to get her father into trouble with Principal Folsom; she knew that he at least had pleaded a case for her to remain at X. And no one except the Principal could have rigged the jury list on such short notice. No one else cared whether or not she stayed, really. Except Fillmore. And she would have ample opportunity to make him regret that.
A short 15 minutes later the jury filed back in. 'Has the jury reached a verdict?' asked the judge.
'We have, your honor,' replied one of the two proper girls, and handed him a small piece of paper.
The judge gave it a once over before reading aloud. 'Will the defense please rise.' Ingrid stood. 'The defendant is sentenced to 3 weeks of detention, 40 hours of community service, and must clean her graffiti from the lockers in A-Hall.'
No, not a surprise at all. She picked up her bag and breezed out of the hearing room straight past Fillmore who she didn't spare a glance for. His eyes followed her down the hall.
________
Next Chapter: Ingrid starts in on her detentions and meets some of X's notorious criminals.