Cliche

Ingrid decided she rather liked stake outs.

Fillmore handed her a chocolate bar. They were currently sat in a small clump of trees, looking down onto the snowy grounds. School had ended about an hour ago, they were still waiting, as reinforcements for the latest sting.

Ingrid had to admit, sitting in a makeshift treehouse wasn't exactly comfortable. And it really was makeshift-all it was a piece of wood nailed to the branches and main trunk, and the upper branches twisted into place to make a roof of sorts, with a few planks of wood nailed in for good measure. But she had to admit being able to sit there and joke around with Fillmore was fun.

"How long you think we're gonna be here?" He shifted his position a little.

"I'm not sure. Tehama said something about it taking place at night"
"Dawg, we're gonna be here for a long time..."

She nodded. "Do we have enough resources? It gets cold at night."

Fillmore tipped his head. "I got a coupla flasks of cocoa."

If it was a movie, Ingrid considered, he would've placed his arms around her, smirked a little, and said something along the lines of 'I'll keep you warm.' However, that was also disgustingly cliche. "What about blankets? It is Winter."

"You shoulda worn warmer clothes." Fillmore looked at her in an irritatingly smug way. He, of course, was wearing boots, a sweater, a jacket, a woollen hat, a scarf and a pair of gloves. The snow had only lightly covered the ground when Ingrid was leaving the house, so she had only donned cords and long sleeved tee, as well as her usual boots. She had, so far, managed to win the scarf and one glove from Fillmore thanks to the card games they always played on stake outs.

"You're wearing warm clothes, but you're still shivvering." She pointed out. "And if we're here for the long haul, we should be more prepared."

"I asked you to prepare-"

"You told me about five minutes before this was happening that I was involved." She commented drily.

"I've been distracted." Fillmore tried to excuse himself, but failed.

She rolled her eyes. "I'll be back soon, I'm gonna go grab some blankets and some warm food." Dropping down through the branches, Ingrid decided she preferred well prepared stakeouts.

Fillmore watched her leave, checking that nobody noticed her until she was safely away from the tree. He sighed and leant against the main trunk of the tree. It was true, he'd been distracted recently, and the truth was, the distraction was her.

Recently she had consumed his thoughts, and he honestly couldn't describe why. It was if suddenly and without warning he had noticed how pretty she was, how much she made him smile, the number of times they'd worked it out together. He considered, suddenly, where he'd be without her, and came to the conclusion that he wouldn't be quite the same person. She'd brought out things in him no one else had, she was a closer friend than anyone else had. Even Wayne.

He didn't even know why it was happening now. Maybe it was linked to the winter break, where she'd been in Europe for a while. Maybe he'd realised that he missed her. Or maybe it was that case where she'd gone undercover as a dancer, maybe he'd seen her in a new way, since she suddenly moved gracefully all the time, or maybe it had been a shift of jealousy in his stomach when he'd watched her partner another guy, even if it was a strictly business dance. Maybe because there'd been an accident recently, where the scaffolding had almost fell on top of him and she'd risked her life to save him, and he'd seen how dangerous life was, he'd seen how he should live life to the fullest, and he saw that she had saved him.

Or maybe, it was just random.

He removed his glasses for a moment and rubbed his eyes. This was such a cliche.

In the movies, whenever a guy and a girl got partnered, by the end of the movie, they were confessing their undying love to one another. And in tv shows, there was usually the boy and girl who were just friends but who everyone was sure belonged together, and by the end of ther series, they were.

And so here he was. Falling for his partner and his best friend. And on the worst possible day, he was spending all of his time with her, in the snow, which lead to a need for warmth, leading to being sat close to one another, leading to possible cuddles. And it had to be today.

Valentines.

He looked at the card he'd bought that morning. He wasn't sure why, it had been a stupid thing to do. Even stranger, he'd spent about an age searching for just the right one. He sighed deeply, and looked at the image. It was simple enough, just a black and white photograph of a young boy and girl leaning against one another, photographed from behind. On the front there was written "you've been my friend, now be my valentine" in childishly cute dark red handwriting. Inside was simply written "be mine?" He'd signed it, even had the simple white envelope with her name printed on it.

Part of him wanted to give it to her, but part of him was worried about what would happen if he did. After all, he'd felt a little like this with Penny, and that had been a tragedy. Mind you, he considered, she'd also been playing him in order to save her own skin.

"Is this the return of tortured!Fillmore?" Ingrid placed the blanket and basket on the platform. Fillmore offered her a hand and pulled her up, artfully avoiding the makeshift roof over them.

"What makes you ask?"

"The look on your face, you seemed troubled. Are you alright?" She smiled a little.

He looked at her. She'd changed her clothes-now there was a jumper, coat, scarf, hat and gloves. She handed him his glove and scarf. For a moment, the sun reflected off the frost in the tree, giving her a soft glow. Fillmore wondered if he'd lost it already.

"I'm fine." He forced a smile. "Pass me an egg roll?"

She nodded and handed him the bag. "You sure? You still look troubled."

He nodded. "I'm sure, I'm just tired. I was up most of last night, thinking."

Ingrid didn't look like she believed him, but grabbed her Egg Free Egg Roll. She looked on the floor, her eyes crinkled slightly. Fillmore felt in his pocket for the envelope, it wasn't there.

Ingrid picked it up from the floor, frowning a little. "Where's this from?"

"I..." Fillmore found that suddenly he couldn't speak fully.

She raised her eyebrows, and opened it. She smiled a little at the picture on the front, her expression was suddenly soft. It bore a striking resemblance to her cute face, but it was more sincere. She opened it, and suddenly her expression was unreadable.

Fillmore rubbed his eyes. This was a mistake. This couldn't be happening. There was no way that this was real. No way.

She looked up at him. "You realse that this is a real cliche?"

"You mean boy meets girl, they become friends, boy likes girl, girl doesn't like boy, boy declares feelings for girl, end of friendship." He tried to make it seem light, but it seemed to have failed.

She shook her head. "Boy meets girl, they become friends, boy likes girl, girl likes boy, boy declares feelings for girl, end of friendship." She kissed him gently on the cheek. "Beginning of something else."

Fillmore found himself grinning. "So you'll be my valentine."

"If you'll be mine." She said softly, still with her new expression.

He nodded. "This is why I was distracted." He whispered in her ear, placing his arm around her. "I'll keep you warm."

"That's cliche, too." She snuggled against him. "But I don't think I mind."

Ingrid and Fillmore decided that they liked stake outs.

/don't own, don't sue. as written for a challenge on X Middle School boards. please review and stuff. inspired in part by Falling Is Like This by Ani DiFranco, listen to it, it's purdy.
- Sylvi/