Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

(I'm sorry it took so long to get this second chapter up. My comp had a virus and it took forever to fix it. I've only had it back since Friday)

Ingrid trudged into her house, waving over her shoulder at Fillmore before shutting the door. She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of soymilk and took it up to her room, depositing her backpack on her desk and sitting down at the chair in front of her computer. She was exhausted, and she had three paragraphs to write for English class before tomorrow. Normally Ingrid would have the assignment done long before anyone else, but Folsom was putting so much pressure on the safety patrol to solve this case that she wasn't herself lately.

Sighing, Ingrid turned her computer on and cracked her knuckles, digging her notes out of her backpack.

"Ok Third, focus. Three paragraphs on Edgar Allen Poe. This is going to be nothing. You already know everything there is to know about the guy already. You can just put the good stuff down on paper and then you can maybe get some rest," she said to herself, starting to type.

"Hey Ingrid," Fillmore said as Ingrid walked into HQ. He was wearing a clown suit.

"Hi Fillmore. Um, why are you wearing that?" Ingrid asked. Fillmore looked down at himself and then looked back at her, confused.

"What do you mean? I always wear this," Fillmore said, raising an eyebrow at her. Ingrid didn't have the slightest idea what he was talking about, but she decided to play along with it.

"Oh yeah. Sorry. Hey wait a minute, since when do you have a hook for a hand?" she asked. Fillmore's eyebrow crept higher up onto his head and started floating in midair.

"I've always had one. Remember, a Glorg ripped my hand off when I was two. Are you feeling OK?" he asked, his floating eyebrow doing a couple of cartwheels in the air before landing back on Fillmore's forehead. He patted it. "Good Hector," he cooed. This time it was Ingrid's turn to give a bemused look.

"What-" she began, but she was interrupted by Danny walking by, his hair dyed a bright shade of lime, leading a large royal blue ferret on a leash. Vallejo followed him wearing an extravagant velvet plum gown, long black hair cascading over his shoulders, carrying a pie.

"hey Third, you're late," he said "Now you don't get any pie." he scooped a large chunk of pie out of the tin in his fist and started to eat it from his fingers. Joseph paraded by, a third arm protruding out of his forehead. He snatched the pie with it and ran. Vallejo ran after him, screaming. Suddenly they both stopped and gravy started to pour from all of the orifices on their heads. Ingrid started to quake.

What is going on here!!!???" she shrieked, slamming her combat boot down onto the floor. "What is going on!!!???"

"Whoa, Ingrid, calm down, "Fillmore said, placing his hook on her shoulder and leading over to a chair. She sat down, still dazed. Fillmore sat down also.

"OK, Fillmore, will you please explain to me what is going on?" Ingrid said, covering her eyes with her hand. Fillmore sighed.

"You're not feeling too well, are you? You don't seem to remember anything," Fillmore said.

"Well, I don't," Ingrid said, flustered. "Not if I'm supposed to remember any of THIS."

"I don't know what happened. Maybe you have amnesia," Fillmore said. "But, it'll be ok." he wrapped his one hand around hers. Ingrid jumped and stared at him.

"Fillmore, what is this?" she asked. Fillmore shook his head, and then he kissed her. Ingrid gasped quite awkwardly and jumped backwards. "Wh-" she began, but then she stopped, leaned over, and kissed Fillmore back.

Ingrid jumped a foot in the air and looked wildly around the room. She had fallen asleep in front of her computer. There was a lot of gibberish on the computer screen from lying her head on the keyboard. Besides the gibberish, the paper was nearly finished. Ingrid stood up and walked into her bathroom, still a bit shaken. She splashed some water on her face and looked at herself. There were marks on her cheek from having it against the keys on her keyboard. She stood there for a moment, trying to get herself together.

"Calm down. It was just a dream. It was in no way reality. It was in no way even tied to reality. It had nothing to do with anything. Pull yourself together Ingrid," she told herself. She walked back into her room and resumed her paper. She had just finished and was watching it slide smoothly out of the printer when her talkie blared and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She sighed at herself for being so stupid and picked it up. "Yeah?"

"Ingrid?" Fillmore's asked, and Ingrid jumped again at the sound of his voice and then felt foolish once more.

"Hey Fillmore. What's up?" she asked, trying to keep the feeling of awkwardness out of her voice.

"Vallejo wants us back at HQ. Apparently there was another situation with Hasseney a few minutes ago," Fillmore said.

"OK. See you there," Ingrid said, grabbing her sash and backpack and heading out the door again. "You'd better stop being stupid, Third," she muttered as she started down the sidewalk.

(I'll try to get chapter three up soon. Reviews are much appreciated!)