Disclaimer: I still own nothing!

Woo. It hasn't been so long since the last chapter! I'm on a roll here! Woop! Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter people! You really renewed my desire to keep this story going. So here it is like I promised. Another chapter. Yay!

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As Ingrid walked into HQ, she got herself together.

"Ok now Third. Don't be stupid this time," she muttered. "Damn I talk to myself a lot."

"What?" Fillmore asked from behind her. Ingrid turned around, startled.

"Um, nothing," she said. Fillmore was leaning against his desk and looking uneasy.

"Sure. OK, let's get going," he said, cracking his knuckles loudly. "I really want to see this guy shut down."

"We all do Fillmore. Let's just concentrate," Ingrid said, trying to keep the uncomfortable edge out of her voice. "If we keep our heads maybe we can get this." 'More like if I can keep my head,' she thought to herself.

"Yeah," Fillmore muttered.

"So where did it happen?" Ingrid asked.

"A/V closet," Fillmore said. "Let's go."

Several minutes later, Ingrid opened the door to the A/V closet. The two of them walked into the room and looked around. Tehama and Anza were taking checking the room for fingerprints and Danny was taking pictures of the room with no evidence. Everything looked like it was in order. There was no sign of theft or struggle in the closet.

"What did he take?" Ingrid asked, staring at the neatly stocked shelves.

"Entire shipment of new digital video cameras. This guy means business," Tehama said.

"It doesn't look like there's any fingerprints either," Anza said, turning around.

"Nothing. The place is totally clean. How does this guy do it?" Danny asked, looking around the room in confusion.

"Why are we even collecting evidence? We know it was Hasseney. All of us know it. Weren't there any witnesses?" Ingrid inquired.

"Yeah, there were. But it's standard procedure. You know how Folsom is. Everything has to be done a certain way," Tehama said.

"This is pointless. Any evidence we find is just gonna confirm what we already know," Fillmore said, looking frustrated.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it. You guys should go home. There's really nothing that can be done here. You too O'Farrel. There's nothing to take pictures of. Like you said, this place is clean," Anza said, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. Fillmore and Ingrid shrugged simultaneously and walked out the A/V closet door. Danny followed close behind, jogging a bit to walk beside them.

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"So, you think we're ever going to catch this guy?" Ingrid asked as they neared her house.

"I hope so. Folsom is not going to be happy with this. It's been weeks. And we don't even know where he is half the time because for some reason he apparently doesn't come home after school," Fillmore answered. Ingrid nodded.

'It was just a dream,' she reminded herself. 'Just a dream.'

"Uh, Ingrid?" Fillmore asked. Ingrid snapped back to attention. And looked sideways at him.

"Yeah?" Ingrid asked.

Fillmore jerked his head to the left, and Ingrid looked in the direction. She realized that they were in front of her house and sighed internally with annoyance at herself for zoning out so completely.

"Oh," she said, feeling exceptionally dense. She turned and walking toward the house. "Later Fillmore."

"Peace out Ingrid," Fillmore said, continuing his journey toward his own abode.

When Ingrid was inside, she closed the door and slapped herself lightly across the face. "Ingrid, you acted completely stupid out there. That dream meant nothing. NOthing. It was a dream."

"Ah, but a dream is never absolutely nothing. It is often impacted by feelings. Certain feelings that you are experiencing subconsciously......" said the little voice in the back or Ingrid's mind.

"Shut up!" she told the voice. She really didn't need this right now. "That dream was not funded by any emotions whatsoever. It was stress and too much soymilk. It had nothing to do with Fillmore!"

"I never said it had anything to do with Fillmore," said the voice. "But since you mentioned it there must be something that you're worried about, concerning Fillmore...." the voice taunted. "I know everything inside of you Ingrid. I know what you want, what you need, what you fear."

"I said shut up!" Ingrid said. "Why won't you just leave me alone?"

"Because I know what you will never say," the voice said. At that point, Ingrid just started ignoring it. She went to the refrigerator and poured herself another glass of soymilk. She went up to her room and sat down on her bed, sipping the soymilk slowly. She started to focus on something else, to take her mind off of her personal worries. She turned her thoughts instead to her professional worries. She was starting to get irritated with the fact that Folsom kept them on the case when she probably knew there was no way to catch Hasseny. The guy was a psychic. Widely known and scientifically proven. He knew when someone was coming for him. He knew where they were coming from. He could quite possibly know that she was thinking about the futility of the case at this very moment. If he knew, he was most definitely laughing at the sad little safety patroller with a head full of troubles and no way to solve them.

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Yay, another chapter! I'll write another as soon as possible.