Title: The Scales Tipped
Rating: PG
Hello again. I'm sorry if I seem like I'm lagging behind in updates a bit, but it's exam time! Luckily I'm finished now though. That means I have time to sit around and do nothing! ^_^ No school until Monday! **Party** I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and in case you forgot, Augie is that dude who Fillmore and Ingrid had to protect during one episode. I can't remember the specs, but he had lots of cool lines. Like, 'Here's a penny for your thoughts, next time keep them to yourself.' Not to mention that he called Fillmore 'Ociffer'. Oh yeah. Augie rocks. 3 And he was allergic to custard, and they had to ride bikes through the re-enactment of the battle of. I have no clue what battle it was, but it was a Civil War battle I'm sure. Or then again it might have been a Revolutionary battle. I have no clue. Really, none. 0_0
Beth- I'm really not saying a word about the Fillmore/Ingrid thing, so stop asking! ^^
Blackheart Syaoran- Or did she? **dun dun dun** Anyway, I made a reference for you! **is proud** I hope you find it, otherwise I'll feel bad. But there's more to come. Oh yes. Much much more.
Toast- I love your penname! **SQUEA** Um, yeah. Thank you~! But as far as not rushed goes, I think it's too slow. 0_o
Califpinay3001- Thank you!
Summersitesprite- You know, I've been asked by English teachers about my whole ' instead of " thing before. I'm actually to the point of wondering whether it really matters. I mean, go pull books off your bookshelf and look! With every book it changes back and forth! Ahhh! I'm so confused! But you know, Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings use '. And they rock. ^_^
________
The scrub brush dropped into the bucket with a splash. Ingrid stood and wiped her forehead with her arm. The afternoon sun was blaring in through the windows. School had ended about half an hour ago. She, however, had a debt to pay. And she always paid her debts, even if they were owed to her enemies. Thus, society was getting its payback in full.
Ingrid glanced over her shoulder, then took a spray bottle out of her bag. She sprayed a liberal amount of its contents over her 'mural' and stood back to watch the spray paint dissolve and run down the front of the lockers like water. A smile tweaked at the corners of her mouth. Chemistry was a true ally through thick and thin. She took a rag and wiped away the graffiti with ease, then dropped the stained rag into the bucket with the scrub brush. Finished already. Now what to do? Left to her own devices, devices that could very easily wreak havoc on X Middle School. Not that she cared to. Attention was given where attention was due, and as far as Ingrid was concerned X was worthy of no such distinction.
'Third.'
There was however an individual who was. 'Officer Fillmore.' Ingrid turned to face him. He glanced at the clean lockers and raised an eyebrow.
'Finished already?'
'You're bright as ever, Officer,' was her reply.
'You've only been at this for 45 minutes.'
'Hm,' she pursed her lips. 'Well, in all honesty, the first half hour was just for show. I actually only spent 15 minutes cleaning the lockers.' His eyes narrowed as she bent down to retrieve her bag. 'Now,' she continued, 'were you going to escort me to detention, or was this just a social call?' She started down the hallway without waiting for him to answer. Then without warning she spun around and tossed him the spray bottle. 'Present from me to you.'
He inspected the spray bottle for a moment, then looked up to find her already halfway down the hall. 'The answer to that question would be the former. So I'd appreciate you not running off,' he said while catching up to her. 'You have a detention to serve, and it's my job to see that you do.'
She shot him an annoyed look. 'And what makes you think I'd skip out of detention? If I can so easily accept that I've committed a crime, what makes you think I couldn't accept the consequences?'
'How about those lockers for instance?'
She stopped and turned to face him. 'I was told to clean the lockers. That's exactly what I did. If you have a problem with my methods, that's exactly what it is. Your problem. Deal with it, and don't accuse me of doing what I was supposed to.'
Fillmore narrowed his eyes at her, giving her his patent Safety Patrol Officer stare.
'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a detention to get to.' With that she turned and went through the door to the detention room, sufficiently ignoring the fact that he even existed. Shutting the door behind her, Ingrid was met with the blinding white walls of the detention room. She took her accustomed seat towards the centre of the room, the same seat she'd sat in for the past 3 afternoons. At the front of the room the words 'Think About What You've Done' were written in black bold print across the whiteboard. She glanced around. The boy at the back with the red cap was slouched over his desk picking his ear. Another boy to her right had his head resting on his desk. He was asleep, and drooling no less. Well, points to the office for trying to make the delinquents care about the error of their ways.
Ingrid settled in to have another boring 2 hours of her life to be drained away. Welcome to the Hall of Heroes. She silently wondered what these guys had done to end up stuck in here everyday like her. They'd probably attempted some pathetic feat to make them look like rebels. Maybe they drew on their desks in History class. Or maybe they were the kind of guys who got kicks out of rigging the water fountains to spray water in people's faces. Oh yes. She could picture that one easily.
The door suddenly slammed open. 'Yeah, yeah, I heard ya the first time.' A short boy sauntered into the room and gave a wave to whoever it was he was addressing outside the door. 'See ya 'round, Ociffer.' A girl with an orange sash reached past him and pulled the door shut. The boy turned towards his reception with a smug smile on his face. Ingrid went back to the chapter she'd been assigned to read for English homework. She figured she'd have the entire book done in about ten minutes.
A shadow fell across her. She glanced up to see the boy who'd just come had taken the seat in front of her, and was sitting backwards in his chair to face her. He crossed his arms and leaned forwards onto her desk. 'Do you mind? You're blocking my light,' was all she said before she went back to her book.
'What's up with you're clothes? You dress to match the detention room or sumthin?'
She didn't answer.
'Are you even readin' that?' He asked, eyeing the speed with which she was turning the pages.
'Photographic memory.'
'Really?' His tone wasn't one of disbelief. It sounded more like he was logging that bit of information away in case it came in handy later.
'Really,' she affirmed for him anyway in a no-nonsense voice. She wasn't in the mood to become involved in any of his games, whatever they were.
'You got a name?'
She put down her book. 'Third.'
'Ah,' a look of understanding coming onto his face. 'You're the one who decorated the lockers.' He smiled deviously. 'Nice bit of work. Too bad ya got caught.'
She smiled back in her own dark way. 'What makes you think I wanted to get away with it?'
He leaned back and put his arms behind his head. 'You know what, Third? I think I like you. Ever need anything, I'm the one to talk to, got it?'
She leaned back and crossed her arms. 'And your name is?'
'Augie.'
________
Fillmore sat down at his desk and noticed with a cringe that there was yet another stack of paperwork needing to be filled out waiting for him by Thelonius' fish bowl. He'd get around to that later. He propped up his elbows and entwined his fingers, satisfied to mull over the days events. Or more specifically a particular event, being Ingrid Third. He was slowly compiling a list of things that made the girl tick.
The first was telling her she needed to be saved. That had gotten her worked up alright. It was obvious that the idea that she was venerable didn't sit well with her. She wanted to be in control, to have full grasp of the situation. The second was accusing her of crimes she didn't commit. That was unexpected, really. He hadn't guessed that she would blow up over being accused of skipping out on her detentions or cheating at cleaning the lockers. But she had, and that meant that she had a sense of honor. A sense of duty.
He sank backwards into his chair and sighed. Tehama was right. There was no figuring out this girl. It was like trying to put together a thousand piece puzzle without knowing what it was a picture of. But speaking of Tehama.
Fillmore pulled the spray bottle Ingrid had tossed him out of his jacket pocket. He placed it on Tehama's desk with a note asking her to analyze the contents for him. He'd check back with her later and see what she found. Fillmore turned back to his own desk and noted dimly that the paperwork was still waiting for him. Why did paperwork have to come with the job? Wasn't it enough that he devoted nearly all of his free time to tracking down criminals and keeping X safe? It wasn't right.
But it had to be done.
He glanced at the clock. He had fifteen more minutes until he was off for the day. No one else was around, which was kind of odd. Even Vallejo wasn't in his office. Maybe he had a meeting with Folsom. 'Guess it's just you and me, Thelonius.' He paused and looked around. 'You thirsty?' The fish kept swimming in circles. 'Didn't think so. I'm gonna go grab something to drink. Hold the fort.'
A few minutes later Fillmore stood facing the yellow tape that declared: 'Safety Patrol Do Not Cross'. Snap. He'd forgot about Anza's little escapade with the vending machines. They were still out of order. The sound of footsteps suddenly began to echo in the hallway, and then two students rounded the corner into the cafeteria. Fillmore inwardly groaned, but outwardly showed as much respect as he could muster. It wasn't very much.
'Officer Fillmore.'
'Peabody.'
'What are you doing here?'
'Last time I checked it was my duty to patrol the school.'
Peabody eyed the vending machines behind him. 'Came to get a drink? Well, you'll have to settle for the water fountain like everyone else. Thanks to the Safety Patrol the schools budget is going to be hit hard. Do you have any idea how much it's going to cost to replace those machines?'
'Thanks to the Safety Patrol the school was saved from a stink bomb attack that day. I don't care how much the machines cost. Lives are worth more than a couple of sodas.'
Peabody turned up his nose. 'If only you were so fortunate in keeping other criminals out of the hallways, hmm? Ingrid Third, I believe her name is.'
'We don't control the courts; it's only our job to get the criminals in there in the first place.'
'Perhaps. But that jury list was no fluke, and the Safety Patrol knows it. Why isn't the list being investigated? I want to know who rigged it, Officer.'
Fillmore was about to reply when the girl with Peabody tapped him on the arm. 'Excuse me, sir. We're going to be late for the meeting.'
'Oh yes, of course. Officer.'
Fillmore nodded in response as Peabody continued on his way down the hall. All these years, and the guy still dressed like a sofa.
When he got back to HQ he found it exactly the opposite of how he had left it: in an active frenzy. Phones were ringing, people were rushing back and forth, shouting across the room. Vallejo was cooped up in his office on the phone looking extremely worried. The guy was probably going to drop dead of a heart attack one of these days. He grabbed a passing officer by the arm, the new girl, Chloe. 'What's going on?'
'You haven't heard?' Her eyes were wide with disbelief.
He shook his head.
'You know Intel has been working on Stingray for months now.'
Oh God.
He left her in mid sentence and ran straight over to Anza. 'What happened?' He demanded firmly.
'His cover was blown.'
'How?'
'We don't know. But someone did their homework. There was a sting operation set up to go ahead this afternoon. Got word from the inside that Stingray would be collecting on his stolen chalk shipments today. Man, Neil's been working on the inside for months, I can't believe.'
'Keep talking.'
'Well, Neil had managed to get hold of the time and place that the transfer would happen. But when they got there, all they found was Neil.'
'Is he alright?'
'He's in the hospital. He was beaten up pretty bad. But the message was pretty clear: Stingray found out about him and wasn't happy. There was no sign of a shipment transfer. They probably arranged for it to take place somewhere else entirely.'
'Was it a leak?'
'We don't know.'
'Do we know anything?'
'There was one thing. They found Augie lurking around nearby. They questioned him for a bit but he didn't fess up to anything, and they couldn't hold him without charging him. Of course, he has a mountain of unpaid library fines, so they packed him off in detention for the afternoon just to spite him.'
'Anza!' Someone called from across the room. Fillmore sat down at his desk to digest this new information. Neil had been exposed. He was one of the more formidable Officers, but he spent a lot of his time working with Intel. It suited him too, he was a clever guy. He had been on the force from Vallejo's time. That probably explained why the Junior Commissioner looked so out of sorts. The two were close friends.
Fillmore glanced at the clock. Technically, he was a free man ten minutes ago. He picked up the phone and called home. 'Hey mom? Yeah, I'm going to be working late tonight.'
________
Next Chapter: Ingrid delves a bit deeper into X Middle School and Fillmore starts to investigate Stingray himself.
Rating: PG
Hello again. I'm sorry if I seem like I'm lagging behind in updates a bit, but it's exam time! Luckily I'm finished now though. That means I have time to sit around and do nothing! ^_^ No school until Monday! **Party** I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and in case you forgot, Augie is that dude who Fillmore and Ingrid had to protect during one episode. I can't remember the specs, but he had lots of cool lines. Like, 'Here's a penny for your thoughts, next time keep them to yourself.' Not to mention that he called Fillmore 'Ociffer'. Oh yeah. Augie rocks. 3 And he was allergic to custard, and they had to ride bikes through the re-enactment of the battle of. I have no clue what battle it was, but it was a Civil War battle I'm sure. Or then again it might have been a Revolutionary battle. I have no clue. Really, none. 0_0
Beth- I'm really not saying a word about the Fillmore/Ingrid thing, so stop asking! ^^
Blackheart Syaoran- Or did she? **dun dun dun** Anyway, I made a reference for you! **is proud** I hope you find it, otherwise I'll feel bad. But there's more to come. Oh yes. Much much more.
Toast- I love your penname! **SQUEA** Um, yeah. Thank you~! But as far as not rushed goes, I think it's too slow. 0_o
Califpinay3001- Thank you!
Summersitesprite- You know, I've been asked by English teachers about my whole ' instead of " thing before. I'm actually to the point of wondering whether it really matters. I mean, go pull books off your bookshelf and look! With every book it changes back and forth! Ahhh! I'm so confused! But you know, Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings use '. And they rock. ^_^
________
The scrub brush dropped into the bucket with a splash. Ingrid stood and wiped her forehead with her arm. The afternoon sun was blaring in through the windows. School had ended about half an hour ago. She, however, had a debt to pay. And she always paid her debts, even if they were owed to her enemies. Thus, society was getting its payback in full.
Ingrid glanced over her shoulder, then took a spray bottle out of her bag. She sprayed a liberal amount of its contents over her 'mural' and stood back to watch the spray paint dissolve and run down the front of the lockers like water. A smile tweaked at the corners of her mouth. Chemistry was a true ally through thick and thin. She took a rag and wiped away the graffiti with ease, then dropped the stained rag into the bucket with the scrub brush. Finished already. Now what to do? Left to her own devices, devices that could very easily wreak havoc on X Middle School. Not that she cared to. Attention was given where attention was due, and as far as Ingrid was concerned X was worthy of no such distinction.
'Third.'
There was however an individual who was. 'Officer Fillmore.' Ingrid turned to face him. He glanced at the clean lockers and raised an eyebrow.
'Finished already?'
'You're bright as ever, Officer,' was her reply.
'You've only been at this for 45 minutes.'
'Hm,' she pursed her lips. 'Well, in all honesty, the first half hour was just for show. I actually only spent 15 minutes cleaning the lockers.' His eyes narrowed as she bent down to retrieve her bag. 'Now,' she continued, 'were you going to escort me to detention, or was this just a social call?' She started down the hallway without waiting for him to answer. Then without warning she spun around and tossed him the spray bottle. 'Present from me to you.'
He inspected the spray bottle for a moment, then looked up to find her already halfway down the hall. 'The answer to that question would be the former. So I'd appreciate you not running off,' he said while catching up to her. 'You have a detention to serve, and it's my job to see that you do.'
She shot him an annoyed look. 'And what makes you think I'd skip out of detention? If I can so easily accept that I've committed a crime, what makes you think I couldn't accept the consequences?'
'How about those lockers for instance?'
She stopped and turned to face him. 'I was told to clean the lockers. That's exactly what I did. If you have a problem with my methods, that's exactly what it is. Your problem. Deal with it, and don't accuse me of doing what I was supposed to.'
Fillmore narrowed his eyes at her, giving her his patent Safety Patrol Officer stare.
'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a detention to get to.' With that she turned and went through the door to the detention room, sufficiently ignoring the fact that he even existed. Shutting the door behind her, Ingrid was met with the blinding white walls of the detention room. She took her accustomed seat towards the centre of the room, the same seat she'd sat in for the past 3 afternoons. At the front of the room the words 'Think About What You've Done' were written in black bold print across the whiteboard. She glanced around. The boy at the back with the red cap was slouched over his desk picking his ear. Another boy to her right had his head resting on his desk. He was asleep, and drooling no less. Well, points to the office for trying to make the delinquents care about the error of their ways.
Ingrid settled in to have another boring 2 hours of her life to be drained away. Welcome to the Hall of Heroes. She silently wondered what these guys had done to end up stuck in here everyday like her. They'd probably attempted some pathetic feat to make them look like rebels. Maybe they drew on their desks in History class. Or maybe they were the kind of guys who got kicks out of rigging the water fountains to spray water in people's faces. Oh yes. She could picture that one easily.
The door suddenly slammed open. 'Yeah, yeah, I heard ya the first time.' A short boy sauntered into the room and gave a wave to whoever it was he was addressing outside the door. 'See ya 'round, Ociffer.' A girl with an orange sash reached past him and pulled the door shut. The boy turned towards his reception with a smug smile on his face. Ingrid went back to the chapter she'd been assigned to read for English homework. She figured she'd have the entire book done in about ten minutes.
A shadow fell across her. She glanced up to see the boy who'd just come had taken the seat in front of her, and was sitting backwards in his chair to face her. He crossed his arms and leaned forwards onto her desk. 'Do you mind? You're blocking my light,' was all she said before she went back to her book.
'What's up with you're clothes? You dress to match the detention room or sumthin?'
She didn't answer.
'Are you even readin' that?' He asked, eyeing the speed with which she was turning the pages.
'Photographic memory.'
'Really?' His tone wasn't one of disbelief. It sounded more like he was logging that bit of information away in case it came in handy later.
'Really,' she affirmed for him anyway in a no-nonsense voice. She wasn't in the mood to become involved in any of his games, whatever they were.
'You got a name?'
She put down her book. 'Third.'
'Ah,' a look of understanding coming onto his face. 'You're the one who decorated the lockers.' He smiled deviously. 'Nice bit of work. Too bad ya got caught.'
She smiled back in her own dark way. 'What makes you think I wanted to get away with it?'
He leaned back and put his arms behind his head. 'You know what, Third? I think I like you. Ever need anything, I'm the one to talk to, got it?'
She leaned back and crossed her arms. 'And your name is?'
'Augie.'
________
Fillmore sat down at his desk and noticed with a cringe that there was yet another stack of paperwork needing to be filled out waiting for him by Thelonius' fish bowl. He'd get around to that later. He propped up his elbows and entwined his fingers, satisfied to mull over the days events. Or more specifically a particular event, being Ingrid Third. He was slowly compiling a list of things that made the girl tick.
The first was telling her she needed to be saved. That had gotten her worked up alright. It was obvious that the idea that she was venerable didn't sit well with her. She wanted to be in control, to have full grasp of the situation. The second was accusing her of crimes she didn't commit. That was unexpected, really. He hadn't guessed that she would blow up over being accused of skipping out on her detentions or cheating at cleaning the lockers. But she had, and that meant that she had a sense of honor. A sense of duty.
He sank backwards into his chair and sighed. Tehama was right. There was no figuring out this girl. It was like trying to put together a thousand piece puzzle without knowing what it was a picture of. But speaking of Tehama.
Fillmore pulled the spray bottle Ingrid had tossed him out of his jacket pocket. He placed it on Tehama's desk with a note asking her to analyze the contents for him. He'd check back with her later and see what she found. Fillmore turned back to his own desk and noted dimly that the paperwork was still waiting for him. Why did paperwork have to come with the job? Wasn't it enough that he devoted nearly all of his free time to tracking down criminals and keeping X safe? It wasn't right.
But it had to be done.
He glanced at the clock. He had fifteen more minutes until he was off for the day. No one else was around, which was kind of odd. Even Vallejo wasn't in his office. Maybe he had a meeting with Folsom. 'Guess it's just you and me, Thelonius.' He paused and looked around. 'You thirsty?' The fish kept swimming in circles. 'Didn't think so. I'm gonna go grab something to drink. Hold the fort.'
A few minutes later Fillmore stood facing the yellow tape that declared: 'Safety Patrol Do Not Cross'. Snap. He'd forgot about Anza's little escapade with the vending machines. They were still out of order. The sound of footsteps suddenly began to echo in the hallway, and then two students rounded the corner into the cafeteria. Fillmore inwardly groaned, but outwardly showed as much respect as he could muster. It wasn't very much.
'Officer Fillmore.'
'Peabody.'
'What are you doing here?'
'Last time I checked it was my duty to patrol the school.'
Peabody eyed the vending machines behind him. 'Came to get a drink? Well, you'll have to settle for the water fountain like everyone else. Thanks to the Safety Patrol the schools budget is going to be hit hard. Do you have any idea how much it's going to cost to replace those machines?'
'Thanks to the Safety Patrol the school was saved from a stink bomb attack that day. I don't care how much the machines cost. Lives are worth more than a couple of sodas.'
Peabody turned up his nose. 'If only you were so fortunate in keeping other criminals out of the hallways, hmm? Ingrid Third, I believe her name is.'
'We don't control the courts; it's only our job to get the criminals in there in the first place.'
'Perhaps. But that jury list was no fluke, and the Safety Patrol knows it. Why isn't the list being investigated? I want to know who rigged it, Officer.'
Fillmore was about to reply when the girl with Peabody tapped him on the arm. 'Excuse me, sir. We're going to be late for the meeting.'
'Oh yes, of course. Officer.'
Fillmore nodded in response as Peabody continued on his way down the hall. All these years, and the guy still dressed like a sofa.
When he got back to HQ he found it exactly the opposite of how he had left it: in an active frenzy. Phones were ringing, people were rushing back and forth, shouting across the room. Vallejo was cooped up in his office on the phone looking extremely worried. The guy was probably going to drop dead of a heart attack one of these days. He grabbed a passing officer by the arm, the new girl, Chloe. 'What's going on?'
'You haven't heard?' Her eyes were wide with disbelief.
He shook his head.
'You know Intel has been working on Stingray for months now.'
Oh God.
He left her in mid sentence and ran straight over to Anza. 'What happened?' He demanded firmly.
'His cover was blown.'
'How?'
'We don't know. But someone did their homework. There was a sting operation set up to go ahead this afternoon. Got word from the inside that Stingray would be collecting on his stolen chalk shipments today. Man, Neil's been working on the inside for months, I can't believe.'
'Keep talking.'
'Well, Neil had managed to get hold of the time and place that the transfer would happen. But when they got there, all they found was Neil.'
'Is he alright?'
'He's in the hospital. He was beaten up pretty bad. But the message was pretty clear: Stingray found out about him and wasn't happy. There was no sign of a shipment transfer. They probably arranged for it to take place somewhere else entirely.'
'Was it a leak?'
'We don't know.'
'Do we know anything?'
'There was one thing. They found Augie lurking around nearby. They questioned him for a bit but he didn't fess up to anything, and they couldn't hold him without charging him. Of course, he has a mountain of unpaid library fines, so they packed him off in detention for the afternoon just to spite him.'
'Anza!' Someone called from across the room. Fillmore sat down at his desk to digest this new information. Neil had been exposed. He was one of the more formidable Officers, but he spent a lot of his time working with Intel. It suited him too, he was a clever guy. He had been on the force from Vallejo's time. That probably explained why the Junior Commissioner looked so out of sorts. The two were close friends.
Fillmore glanced at the clock. Technically, he was a free man ten minutes ago. He picked up the phone and called home. 'Hey mom? Yeah, I'm going to be working late tonight.'
________
Next Chapter: Ingrid delves a bit deeper into X Middle School and Fillmore starts to investigate Stingray himself.