–In the 21st Century–

The busted up, lemon of a time vehicle shot out of the timestream and into Danville High School's parking lot, sliding a bit on the ice until it slowed to a stop an inch away from a lamp-post. Lotte shook her head and giggled. "That's one way to make an entrance."

Cavendish exhaled, still gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Unfortunately, that seems to be our only way to make an entrance."

"It could be worse." Lotte said with a smile. "Statistics show that 2% of icy-road car crashes end in fatalities."

Dakota raised a brow at her in the rear-view mirror. "Ok, your point bein'?"

"My point is that we could have died horribly in a car crash and isn't it great to be alive?"

"Kinda a morbid fact to start the night off." Dakota pointed out.

"Statistics don't lie."

"What're you, a computer?"

Cavendish rolled his eyes at the two before exiting the vehicle. "I believe Lotte was, in her own way, trying to lighten the mood."

Lotte kicked the door open. "And I don't know about you two, but I consider the mood lighte—what're we doing at a high school, I thought we were going for burgers?"

Cavendish and Dakota exchanged nervous glances. "Um, well, the thing is—"

"We're outta gas!" Dakota blurted out. Cavendish knew that face-palming at this particular junction would cause Lotte to grow suspicious, so he settled for a slight shake of the head.

"Out of gas? I thought the Bureau filled up the tanks of every time vehicle at the start of the day."

Cavendish tugged at his collar. "Well, er, sometimes they… forget to do ours?"

Lotte blinked at the two men, obviously unconvinced. "Really?"

"Yeeeees?" Dakota smiled nervously at the green-haired girl.

Lotte readjusted her sunglasses before sighing. "Let's just pretend I believe that phony-baloney bullshit so we can move past this." The two men sighed in relief. "I'll just call a tow-truck to come get us… Huh, that's weird. I could've sworn I charged my phone before I left for work today." Shrugging and stuffing her phone back into her pocket, she held out a hand. "Gimme one of yours so I can call—"

"Oh, I can't. I, uh, left it at my apartment!" Cavendish smiled meekly.

"And I actually don't have my phone on me." Dakota said sincerely. "I haven't found time to replace mine after we drove Milo home the other day."

"In your defense, how were we supposed to know you left it on the roof of the gelatin truck?" Cavendish told his partner.

"Who's Milo? And more to the point, Dakota why was your phone on top of a gelatin truck?" Lotte asked.

"Milo's a friend of ours and we were driving him and his friends home from rehearsal the other day. And my phone was on a gelatin truck because I threw it at an emu." Dakota explained.

Lotte stared at the men in confusion. "Riiight. Well, we are at a high school. There should be a phone in there we could use, if it's even open at this hour." Lotte narrowed her eyes in the direction of the nearest entrance. "It is open right? I can't tell, it's too dark."

"You're wearing sunglasses at night." Cavendish pointed out.

"Well, so am I!" Dakota came to Lotte's defense.

"And can you see if there are any lights in that building?"

"Of course, I can!" Dakota crossed his arms before narrowing his eyes at the building. "Kinda… that's a light in the third window, right?"

Cavendish actually did facepalm that time. "Let's just go. Obviously, the building is open." As the three made their way towards the main entrance, Cavendish raised a brow. "Why do you two wear sunglasses all the time, anyway?"

Dakota visibly blanched but Lotte merely pointed at her pair of sunglasses. "I've been having some pretty bad migraines lately, these sunglasses help."

"Oh, so it's medical?"

"Yup. Doctor's orders!" Lotte smiled at the tracksuit wearing man. "What about you, Dakota, why do you wear sunglasses?"

"Oh, um, medical reasons too!"

"That's cool, from a scientific point of view, anyway. What medical reason, if you don't mind my asking?" Lotte raised a brow.

"Well I do mind, actually."

"Oh, I'm sorry I—"

"Oh look, the entrance!" Dakota exclaimed a little to loudly to be considered normal. He rushed over and held the door open for his partners. "Ladies and Cavendishes, first!"

The two blinked before Lotte leaned over to Cavendish and whispered "I think the cold is getting to him." Before walking into the building, giving Dakota a strange look as she did so. As Cavendish followed behind, Dakota held out an arm and made sure Lotte was out of ear shot before he asked Cavendish "Ya sure they're here?"

"Definitely." Cavendish said, pointing to a time limo that was parked behind a nearby tree.

Dakota smiled. "Great!" The younger man glanced behind him, Lotte was staring at them expectantly. Dakota leaned closer and whispered "First we'll distract her, then we'll destroy the pistachios." Cavendish nodded in agreement.

When Lotte had went to Mr. Block to announce she would be tagging along for Cavendish and Dakota's missions, the head of the Bureaus reaction was, first, to laugh as if she just told the world's greatest joke. Then, once he realized she wasn't joking, he had repeatedly asked if she was one-hundred percent sure if she wanted to be stuck cleaning renaissance potties for the foreseeable future. Lotte had stated, quite firmly, "I'm not in it for the glory, just the people." If Cavendish and Dakota weren't sold on her joining them on missions beforehand, they certainly were now.

Block, after asking one final time if Lotte was sure of her choice (she was), had agreed and said everything would be set up by the next morning. Lotte, before punching out for the night, had tackled the two men in another bone-crushing hug, saying she couldn't wait to start working with them.

The next morning, as Dakota was getting coffee for the three of them, had come to a sudden and nerve-wracking realization: the pistachios.

How were the two of them supposed to hide the fact that they destroy Mr. Block's favorite snack from Lotte, who was by all means their superior?

Dakota had confided his concerns to Cavendish in the renaissance. The older man, who was in the middle of looking up as much information on Brick and Savannah's pistachio mission as possible, had nearly bristled.

It had taken some time, but the two had devised a plan. If they were able to distract Lotte long enough, maybe they could sneak past her, Brick, and Savannah long enough to destroy the little green nuts. The two men were doubtful of there plan, but they didn't really have many other options.

"Ok, so what' our game plan?" Lotte asked the two men once they joined her in the school's foyer. Dakota glanced around and caught sight of Savannah's silhouette standing in the school's kitchen. He nudged Cavendish and the man nodded slightly in the direction, he saw it too.

"Uh… we'll go check and see if there's a payphone down this way," Dakota pointed to a darkened hallway towards the back entrance of the school kitchen, "how about you go see if there's either a payphone or a cell phone we could use down that way?" He pointed towards the hallway that led to an auditorium. The green-haired woman shrugged and started off in that general direction.

Once she was out of sight, the two men crept up to the entrance of the kitchen, careful not to be seen or heard, and peaked their head in.

Savannah was fiddling with the controls of an outdated looking refrigerator while Brick was placing a few gallon tubs labeled 'Discount Pistachio-Ice Cream' into it. "Did you ever get ice cream in your high school lunches?" Brick asked Savannah.

The woman scoffed, tugging on a wire. "We were lucky to have actual meat in our hamburgers."

"Same. I'm pretty sure my school's pizza was just cardboard with tomato sauce thrown on it." Brick set another tub in the refrigerator. "Do you think it's a little concerning that these tubs have the word 'discount' on them?"

Savannah wiped her brow. "The bigger concern is that this fridge has a stamp that says 'decommissioned' right by the temperature control gage and yet this school seems to still be using it."

Brick shook his head. "Man, public school sucks."

"Just load the rest of the ice cream into the fridge while I fix the temperature gage." Brick rolled his eyes and reluctantly went back to the heavy-lifting. As the two first-class agents started to bicker about who is doing the more important job; Cavendish and Dakota duck back into the shadows.

Dakota smirks at Cavendish. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

Cavendish nodded. "Indubitably."

The two agents patiently waited another five minutes, which felt longer due to Brick and Savannah's petty squabble, before the two first-class agents went to check if there was any more Pistachio-Ice Cream tubs in the back. The two men hid in the shadows as the other two agents passed them by. Once they disappeared down a corridor, Cavendish and Dakota rushed into the kitchen.

"Ok, I'm gonna throw as much ice cream as I possibly can on the floor, you try an' break the temperature thingy." Dakota told Cavendish as he tore the lid off of a tub and started scooping out ice cream with his bare hands.

Cavendish rolled his eyes. "At least find a spoon or something! You'll get frostbite."

"No time, just start messing with the thingy!"

"It's called a temperature control—"

"There you guys are! You won't believe this, but some middle school's rehearsing a play here and the main teacher involved lent me his phone to call a tow truck, and I swear, he looked exactly like a vampire—why is there Pistachio-Ice Cream on the floor?" Lotte raised a brow at the two men.

Said men stuttered incoherently, not unlike how when Brick and Savannah caught them destroying pistachio-plants a few months ago. Lotte glanced at the fridge and then back to the small amount of ice cream on the floor.

"Wait, aren't there a couple agents in charge of protecting pistachios from going extinct?" Lotte stepped past the two men, nudging the ice cream with her boot. The green-haired woman gasped in realization. "Are you two deliberately sabotaging an attempt to save our boss's favorite snack food?"

"Lotte, please, let us explain—" Cavendish tried to cut in.

"Do you two realize how many rules your breaking?" Lotte gave them an incredulous look. "And do either of you realize what the biggest flaw of this plan is?"

Dakota glanced at the floor, preparing for the worst. "That we can't prove why were doing this to anyone?"

"No, that you didn't ask me to help!"

Both men looked at their new partner in surprise. Cavendish tilted his head and raised a brow at her. "Um… come again?"

Lotte smirked wickedly and asked, "How long until the shmucks on this mission come back?"

"Uh, they left about maybe two minutes ago?"

"Ok, kind of cutting it close but I've done more with less." Lotte stuffed the borrowed phone in her pocket before rubbing her hands together gleefully. "Ok, I'm gonna need you two to open the lids on all these containers and lay them on their sides inside the fridge. Ok?"

"I guess so but what are you planning on—" Dakota started to question.

"Just step and fetch and don't ask questions, boys, we're on the clock." Lotte told them, kneeling down by the temperature control gage. The two men merely exchanged confused glances before doing as she instructed. Cavendish, out of the corner of his eyes, noticed Lotte pulling wire after wire out of the control panel. At one point, Cavendish could've swore he saw a spark of green light shoot out from Lotte's fingertip and into the control panel, but he figured he was just seeing things.

After placing the cover-panel into place, Lotte dusted off her legs. "They really need to have someone clean this floor. You guys open 'em up?"

Dakota nodded. "Yeah, but I still don't get why—"

Lotte glanced behind her and tensed up. "Shut the fridge's doors, we've gotta hide." Cavendish quickly did as she instructed. The green-haired woman yanked the two men from the kitchen and into a nearby closet, closing the door far enough to not be seen, but leaving it cracked just a bit so they could watch the upcoming spectacle.

Double-checking neither of them tracked any ice cream with them into the closet, Lotte smirked. "In three… two… one." On cue, Brick and Savannah walked in and jolted at the sight of a small puddle of melting ice cream on the floor.

"I thought you said you closed the door." Savannah glared at Brick.

"I swear, I did!" Brick reached over the ice cream puddle and yanked the door open. A sudden rush of melted pistachio ice cream came crashing out, getting all over Brick's pants and shoes. The man cried out in disgust and quickly shut the door before he could make a bigger mess.

"I thought you said you fixed the temperature control gage!"

"I swear, I did!" Savannah held up her hands in defense.

"Yeah, you fixed it alright!" Brick gestured angrily to the stains on his pant legs.

"Oh, so this is my fault?"

"Well it certainly wasn't mine!"

The two continued to bicker until Savannah got a call from Mr. Block. Brick, refusing to talk to his boss in his state, stormed out of the school kitchen, complaining quite loudly on how expensive the dry-cleaning bill for his pants was going to be. Savannah followed, simultaneously dealing with an angry call from Mr. Block and shouting at Brick to man up.

Lotte stumbled out of the closet, laughing her head off. Cavendish and Dakota were merely smiling at their friends' ingenuity. "That was incredible, Lotte!" Cavendish said.

"How'd ya get the ice cream to melt that quickly?" Dakota asked, observing the now increasing ice cream puddle.

Between her laughs, Lotte explained, "One of the most exploitable flaws of the Icebox-2000 is its temperature-control gage. Anyone with a basic understanding of machinery and programming could easily re-wire the circuits to change the temperature in extreme variants." Lotte exhaled and smiled at the two men. "I've gotta say, I'm impressed with you two. I didn't think either of you were the kind to go behind Blockhead's back and deliberately sabotage is favorite snack food."

Cavendish rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "We never used to be, but, well, instances arouse."

"Honestly, I'm a bit surprised you wanted to sabotage the pistachios, Lotte." Dakota admitted.

"Are you kidding me? Blockhead's screwed me over too many times to count, it feels good to pay him back." Lotte smirked impishly. "Besides, this clearly isn't the first failed pistachio mission anyone's ever been on—"

"Preachin' to the choir." Dakota quipped.

"—and if Blockhead paid any attention to data and statistics, he'd realize there are somethings even the Bureau couldn't save."

Just then, a loud crash was heard from down the hall, followed by a few screams of panic, followed by complete and utter darkness. The three time-travelers pulled out their night vision goggles and strapped them on. Lotte glanced around and saw the fridge beside them had shut off completely. "Oh shit, did I do that?"

"I don't believe so." Cavendish reassured his old mentor.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure this is just a coincidence." Dakota told her. Realization dawned on the two men and they exchanged knowing looks. "C'mon, we better go help them out."

"Help who out?" Lotte asked.

"Do you remember that Milo-boy we spoke of earlier?" Cavendish asked as the three exited the kitchen and set off down the hall towards the auditorium.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, let's just say that around him, it's best to expect the unexpected."

"Like what?"

"Like your phone being stolen by an emu on top of a gelatin truck." Dakota told her, smiling.

"Or a herd of llamas stampeding onto the football field!" A younger, female voice pointed out. The three time-travelers turned to see Milo, Melissa, and Zack walking towards them, with a few flashlights in hand. Noticing the flashlights, the time-travelers removed their night-vision goggles.

"I didn't know you two were here." Milo smiled at Cavendish and Dakota.

"Yeah, our time vehicle shot out of the timestream into your parking lot, but we're outta gas so we kinda needed to borrow a phone." Dakota explained.

Lotte glared playfully at the younger man. "Oh, would you just shut up?"

The children glanced at Lotte in mild confusion. "Um, who are you?" Zack shined his light on Lotte.

"Whoever she is, I love her hair!" Melissa exclaimed, moving closer to get a better look at the green-haired girl.

Lotte giggled, flattered. "Name's Lotte. I'm Cavendish and Dakota's new-temporary partner. And thank you! I like your jacket." Lotte told Melissa.

"I'm Milo, and this is Zack." The sweater-vested youth smiled, gesturing between Zack and himself. Lotte glanced at the other two time-travelers.

"This wouldn't happen to be the Milo you mentioned earlier, would it?"

"The very same."

Lotte turned to the children, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you. Now, explain this to me, how did an emu get on top of a gelatin truck and what prompted Dakota to throw his phone at it? And, more importantly, why?"

The children chuckled before Milo shrugged. "That's just Murphy's Law."

"Murphy's Law?" It was as if a light went on inside Lotte's head. "The principal of theory that states that anything that can go wrong tends to go wrong?"

Milo nodded. "Yeah! Wow, I've never heard anyone summarize it so succinctly before."

Dakota nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she's our little human computer, this one." Lotte chuckled awkwardly.

"I have encyclopedic knowledge of a lot of stuff, what can I say?"

Cavendish smiled at his mentor before turning to the children, gesturing to the surrounding darkness. "Am I a bit presumptuous to assume that this is a Murphy's Law scenario?"

"Nope, you're on the nose, actually." Melissa said before fixing the older man with a strange look. "Wait, 'presumptuous'… do you have a word-of-the-day calendar or something?"

"My friend Mort and I were rehearsing our song when one of the lights came loose and fell in-between us. I tried fixing it while Melissa, Joni, and Lydia rehearsed their number, but I accidentally cut the wrong wire and well, you can figure out the rest." Milo smiled meekly.

"Ok, but what're you kids doin' out here?" Dakota asked.

"Our director, Mr. Drako, went to go find the person he lent his phone to, so he could call an electrician," Melissa explained, "so we figured that while everyone else cleans up, we'd go check on the fuse box."

"Well, half of the problem, solved," Lotte pulled out the borrowed phone from her pocket, "I'll just call an electrician for him and return his phone."

"How do you know this Mr. Drako is the one whose phone you borrowed?" Cavendish asked.

"Hmm, good point." Lotte turned to the kids. "Does this Mr. Drako look an awful lot like a vampire?"

"Yep."

"Uh-huh!"

"I'm at least 32% sure he is one…"

Lotte smirked at Cavendish. "Yep, it's his phone."

"I think I saw him head off towards the main entrance." Zack pointed out. "I can show you the way if you want?"

"That's very sweet of you, Zack. I'd like that." Lotte smiled.

"Great! While you guys and Zack look for Mr. Draco, Melissa and I will go check the fuse box." Milo said, turning his flashlight down the next hallway.

"Will you need help with that, Murphy?" Cavendish asked.

"I should be fine, but it's always nice to have some extra help."

"Ok, so you'll go with Melissa and Milo to fix the fuse box and I'll go with Lotte and Zack to find a vampire-teacher." Dakota said.

"He's not a vampire, probably." Melissa said sternly.

"Why are you going with Lotte and Zack?" Cavendish asked Dakota.

"Eh, there's six of us here, there's gonna be two groups; it just feels right." Dakota shrugged.

–A little later, with Cavendish, Milo, and Melissa–

It had taken about ten minutes of stumbling around in the dark to find the fuse box in the very back of the mechanical room at the other end of the school, although six of those minutes could be attributed to switching out the many flashlights that Murphy's Law caused to break on the way over. It had taken another eight to actually start working with the fuse box, but that's just because it took Milo and Cavendish some time to find the right screwdriver to open the box with and Melissa had preoccupied herself with chasing away a racoon that had jumped out from behind the water-heater.

So, overall, it was going a lot better than anyone expected it too.

However, Melissa and Milo had a few ulterior motives for why they had agreed to let Cavendish accompany them. Exchanging looks in the dark, they initiated their plan.

"So, Cavendish," Melissa started, a little out of breath from chasing away the racoon, "could I ask you a question?"

"Hold the flashlight up while I help Milo, and of course." Cavendish handed her his flashlight before proceeding to help Milo unscrew the panel.

"I don't really know how to word this, so I'll just come out and say it; do you like Dakota?"

"Of course, I do," Cavendish said casually, "we've been partners for a long time, after all."

While Melissa hung her head, Milo chuckled a bit. "I don't think that's what she meant, Mr. Cavendish."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I think she meant do you like Mr. Dakota as in, you know… like-like him?" Cavendish, flustered, dropped his screwdriver in surprise.

He leveled an offended glare at the children that would make grown men shake in their boots, but considering the only source of light at the moment was a dim flashlight, it sort of lost it's effect. "And what gives the two of you the right to ask me such a question?!"

"Observation, mostly." Melissa told him, as if it were obvious.

"Observation?"

"Yeah, observation!" Milo chimed in. "We've always noticed that the two of you are always together, even if you had the option not too. Like last Christmas Eve!"

"Well, it would be rude to just leave a friend you're eating dinner with for someone else."

"That's true, but even when we went over and wished you guys a Merry Christmas and talked to you and stuff, you guys always kept looking at each other and smiling at each other." Melissa smiled fondly at the memory. "It was so cute!"

Cavendish prayed to whatever higher power would listen that the children couldn't see his blush. "I didn't… look at him more than I should have…"

Melissa and Milo didn't seem to believe that statement, sharing knowing smiles. "Yeah, but he kept looking at you."

That got Cavendish's attention. "He did?"

"Uh-huh! And whenever he did, he was always smiling!"

Cavendish deflated a bit, sighing, "He was probably thinking of a joke… or an egg roll."

Milo shook his head. "Nope, Dakota wasn't smiling at you like that." As Milo successfully unscrewed one screw, he went onto the next. "In fact, I've seen that type of smile before! Especially when my dad surprises my mom by bringer her home flowers from work, or when my mom brings my dad his favorite brand of band-aids home, or when I give Diogee his favorite stuffed carrot to play with."

Melissa sighed and smiled wistfully, "Ah, amour…"

Cavendish shook his head at her comment, unscrewing a screw. As he started to work on the second one, he paused, exhaling quietly. "Let's pretend that, for a moment, that your hypothesis about me like-liking Dakota is even remotely correct—"

"Which we're pretty sure is," Melissa quipped.

"—why do you think he would be remotely interested in me?"

Following that question was the pungent air of self-doubt. Milo and Melissa exchanged looks before Milo asked, "Well, why wouldn't he?" Cavendish raised a brow at the children, not seeing what they meant.

"Milo's right; You're obviously super smart, determined, nice, and just an all-around cool guy!"

"Not to mention your mustache and accent are really cool! And you always dress really well, if not just a bit outdated." Cavendish smiled at the kids' praises of him. Apart from Dakota, the mustached man didn't really have anyone who really thought of him as well as they did.

"Thank you, children, that means a lot to me." Cavendish said as he began to unscrew another screw. As it fell into his palm, he chuckled mirthlessly. "Say I do like-like Dakota—"

"We've been saying that." Milo told him.

"—I don't think I'd even know how to go about all of… this."

Melissa patted his shoulder in a supporting fashion. "Well, my dad says that when he met my mom, he just walked up and started talking to her and after that, they did a lot of talking and things sort of grew from there."

"Really?"

The girl nodded. "Communication is the secret to a happy and healthy relationship."

"I don't think I would even know what to talk about…"

"Maybe we could help?" Milo suggested as he went back to work on the final screw. "I mean, we've faced evil, sentient pistachio monsters from the future and past and have come out ok; how hard could romance be?" The last screw fell into Milo's hand, and the boy smiled. "Ok, let's see what we're dealing with here."

Handing the screw in their hands to Melissa, Cavendish and Milo pried the panel off the fuse box and set it on the ground between them, only to pause at the sight of the fuse box itself. Wires, unplugged, beaten, and everything in-between were crisscrossed with outdated buttons, switches, and flips.

"The high school's fuse box is a lot more complicated than the middle school's…" Milo commented. As he did so, the flashlight that Melissa had been holding flickered until it went off, bathing in the room in darkness.

"Hang on, I think I still have my candlestick-flashlight and the generator." Ruffling sounds could be heard as Milo dug through his backpack. At one point, Milo yelped in surprise as a distinctive "Bark!" was heard.

"Diogee, you're not supposed to be in my backpack!" The dog barked again.

"Hey, Cavendish, could you hold him while I look for the candlestick-flashlight?"

"Of course." Cavendish held out his hands and waited as Milo blindly searched for the man's outstretched arms in the dark. Once he did, he plopped the warm, fluffy dog into them and went back to digging. As Cavendish patted the dog's head, he turned to where he thought Melissa was standing and asked, "Is there anything he can't fit in that backpack?"

"We've tried to fit three anchors in there once, but it just couldn't be done." The girl responded.

"You have two anchors in your backpack?"

"Sure do! In case one of them breaks." Cavendish decided to just continue to pet Diogee's head and not ponder on how it was possible one could break an anchor.

–Meanwhile, with Dakota, Zack, and Lotte–

"Mr. Drako? Mr. Drako?" Zack called out into the darkened halls. He shown his light at every corner or doorway the trio came across. "Mr. Drako, where are you?"

"Here vampire-vampire-vampire." Dakota called out.

Lotte, who at this point was holding Mr. Drako's phone in the air in an attempt to get a good signal, gave Dakota an odd look. "What're you doing?"

"Doing a vampire call?"

"I'm pretty sure that's not how a vampire call goes." Lotte tapped on the phone's screen. "Besides, Melissa said he probably wasn't a vampire."

"He might be one though." Dakota pointed out.

After a beat, Zack turned to Lotte. "So, what did you do before you teamed up with Cavendish and Dakota?"

"Mostly suffer in silence and let anger consume my soul." Lotte replied nonchalantly before smiling down at the young boy. "But now I have friends, so I'm doing better, probably."

Zack and Dakota stopped walking and just stared at the green-haired girl in shock. The two exchanged glances, not really sure how to respond to such a statement. Lotte, who eventually noticed her two companions glanced back at them and gave them odd looks.

"C'mon guys… we have to walk together, Zack has the only working flashlight." Lotte stated matter-of-factly. The two men exchanged one more look before catching up with their green-haired friend. A semi-uncomfortable silence followed as the three walked in silence.

Noticing this, Lotte smirked. "Sooo, Dakota, how long have you and Cavendish been partners?"

Dakota stroked his chin in thought. "A few years now, I guess. I'm not sure how well that matches up with your timeline though."

"That's nice." Another beat. "So… got any hobbies or anything?"

Dakota raised his brow at her, but answered nonetheless. "Not really. I play some instruments and I like eating, though, does that count?"

"I think it does." Zack smiled at him.

"Eater, huh? Gotta sweet tooth?"

"Oh yeah, you bet."

"Any particular type of sweet?" Lotte asked, an overly sweet smile on her face.

The tracksuit wearing man pondered this before snapping his fingers. "Cupcakes! Especially chocolate with cream cheese frosting."

"Aw man, now I'm hungry!" Zack complained. Lotte laughed good-naturedly and tousled his hair.

"Any person to share those hypothetical cupcakes with?" Dakota blinked at the sudden forwardness of her question.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"No reason! No reason!" Another beat followed before Lotte turned back to the other time-traveler. "But if you did have someone to share those hypothetical cupcakes with, is there a certain type of person you would want to share those hypothetical cupcakes with?" The green-haired agent stared at him, looking to be expecting a very specific answer. Dakota noticed this and smiled at her knowingly.

"Lotte, are you trying to pry a certain type of information outta me?" Lotte leaned back and laughed nervously.

"What? Can't I just get to know my new friend and partner?"

Zack turned to her. "Normally, I'd say yes, but I'm siding with Dakota on this one; these questions seem oddly specific."

The female time-traveler fiddled with the sleeve of her leather jacket nervously. "Well, ah, the thing is… I may or may not be trying to act as a sort of unofficial… wingman."

Zack looked at her, eyes wide in realization while Dakota merely tilted his head at her in confusion. "Act as a wingman? For who?"

Zack turned and gave the older man an incredulous look. "Really? You have to ask?"

"Apparently." Dakota shrugged, not understanding the look Zack was giving him. "Whose wingman are you trying to be?"

Lotte studied him, giving him a look that was similar to the one Zack was giving him, before bluntly replying "Cavendish's. I'm trying to be Cavendish's wingman."

Dakota's heartrate spiked almost immediately, and his face turned crimson. The man laughed loudly and nervously before taking a step back from his two friends. "W-why would you need to do something like that?"

"Well, typically, a wingman is used to get a sort of feel for their friend's potential partner. This is done by actively engaging in conversation with the potential partner to see if their interests and-or hobbies match up with the wingman's friend." Lotte stated, as if reading a book. "But Cavendish doesn't really know that I'm acting as his wingman so I'm doing this a bit differently."

"That's a pretty textbook answer, but I think what Lotte was trying to say was that she's trying to help you out, dude."

"Why would I need help?"

"Because you like Cavendish." Zack stated.

"Yeah, I thought it was obvious." Lotte said.

"Oh no, it is. Well," Zack glanced at Dakota with a sympathetic smile, "it is to everyone but Cavendish."

"It is?" Lotte asked. "Because I've seen the looks Dakota gives him when Cavendish isn't looking, and lemme tell ya, I could write a trashy-romance story based off those looks alone."

Dakota's face burned in embarrassment, yet he still managed to give Lotte a warning look. "You realize he's in middle school, right?"

Zack waved off his concern. "That's beside the point."

"Then what is the point?" Dakota asked

"That Cavendish likes you." Zack smiled.

Dakota glanced at the ground shyly before cracking a tiny smile and glancing up at Lotte, hopeful. "You guy really think so?"

Lotte smirked. "You know I was the one who told you he thought you were funny, smart, and fun to be around, right?"

Zack turned to Lotte, eyes alight. "He said that?"

"Oh, hell yeah, he did!" Lotte crossed her arms, smiling fondly. "And that was just one of the things Cavendish told me about you, Dakota."

Grinning like a fool, Dakota laughed breathlessly. "I mean… I guess I may like him… a lot… Like, a lot, a lot…"

While Zack let out a quiet squeal, Lotte slung an arm around Dakota's shoulders. "And I can guarantee you that he likes you too… Just don't tell him I said that; he'll have my head."

Dakota laughed before smiling fondly. "Yeah, that's something he would do alright…" Dakota frowned before smiling, albeit sadly. "But, I just don't see what you guys are talking about."

"You don't?" His two companions asked in unison.

"Yeah, I don't. I mean he's Cavendish and I'm… I'm selfish, eats-to-much Dakota. I don't think he really likes me more than a friend, and even then that's being generous." Dakota turned to continue walking down a hall, but was stopped by Lotte smacking him upside the head. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For being dumb." Lotte said, as if it were obvious. "Of course, Cavendish likes you! Why wouldn't he? You seem pretty great to me, and I've only known you for twenty-four hours."

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Zack assured him. "You are smart, funny, and fun to be around, and you're always so sweet and kind to just about everyone you meet. Not to mention you can rock a pair of sunglasses."

Dakota smiled at the compliment, readjusting his shades as he did so. Lotte walked over and slung her arm over his shoulder once again. "Y'know, if you need help, I've known Cavendish for a pretty long time. I'd be more than willing to help you out."

"You would do that for me?"

"Technically it'd be for the both of you, but yeah. I'd help."

"And I can help too. I wrote a few love songs for my old band before I left, so I should be able to help in the romance department too." Zack offered.

"You were in a band?" Dakota asked.

Lotte snapped her fingers in recognition. "I thought I recognized you earlier, I just didn't want to say anything. You were in the Lumberzacks weren't you?"

"That's still a thing in the future?!"

"Oh yeah, there one of the most popular bands on the golden-oldies stations." Lotte stroked her chin in thought. "Now how did that song go again?"

"Please don't—" Zack tried to plead.

"Oh yeah, I remember!" Lotte ignored him and started to sing "~Chop, chop, chop! Chop away at my heart!~"

"Mr. Drako! Where are you?" Zack hollered loudly, drowning out Lotte's singing and Dakota's giggles. "Come out, come out wherever you are!" The young boy, in an embarrassed huff, took off down the hall, leaving Lotte and Dakota no choice but to follow after him.

Thankfully, there was no more mention of the Lumberzacks after that.

–In the year 2176–

Buddy's Crosstown Pub was one of the few places in Brick's current timeline that managed to mix 21st century style and fashion with 22nd century technology in a way that was profitable for business. Granted, you couldn't tell by how dead the bar was at the moment, but that was to be expected. It was a Tuesday after all.

Brick glanced around and, aside from himself and the gruff looking bartender cleaning a spot on the other end of the counter, the only other people in the bar was a homeless looking man passed out in the corner booth and a couple in the bathroom who, judging by the constant moans and shouts, were having a very good Tuesday night.

"At least someone's having a good day…" Brick mumbled bitterly to himself, drinking his martini (shaken not stirred, obviously).

The agent felt he had the right to be bitter, after the lousy day he had. Not only did he have another very detailed dream about Dakota, but he had slept through his alarm and was therefore late to work. When he finally did arrive at the Bureau, Block (who was in as a foul of mood as ever) had all but shouted at the man before slapping the latest pistachio mission dossier into his arms. After tracking down Savannah, who had her own choice words about his being late, the two had gone back to make sure a shipment of pistachio ice-cream reached its destination, a high school kitchen. Of course, the refrigerator they were supposed to store it in was on the fritz. Savannah had sworn up and down that she had fixed it, but Brick wasn't entirely convinced, and the melted pistachio ice-cream stains on his pants and shoes were proof of his argument.

Block had been a bit more understanding about the mission failing this time around after Savannah explained the rundown conditions of the high school kitchen's equipment, but not enough to forgo reminding them both they were on thin ice. After returning to the future, Savannah had told him to get his shit together before clocking out for the day, leaving it up to Brick to fill-out the report.

After that mess of a day, Brick felt more than entitled to a goddamn drink. So, after stopping by his apartment to change, he had come to the bar to forget his day and try and find someone to help… relieve his tension. Suffice to say, the latter was out of the question for the night.

The bathroom door swung open and out stepped a shapely Polynesian girl, who was adjusting her top. Shortly after she exited, a man with curly auburn hair and bruised nose wearing a neon green bolo tie and some scuffed up cowboy boots followed.

"That was fun." The girl smiled, trailing her hand up the auburn-haired man's arm.

"It was passable." The man said and hurt flashed through the girl's eyes for a moment. Seeing this, the curly-haired man pulled her into a kiss. As he pulled away, he told her," Sei una dea, non dimenticarlo mai."

The girl giggled. "You know my Italian's a little rusty."

"Just know what I said was true." The man placed a kiss on her hand. "Aspetto il giorno in cui potrò vederti di nuovo, mio bel fiore." After receiving one final kiss, the girl giggled girlishly before waving good-bye to her companion.

Once she was out the door, the man sighed as if a heavy burden was lifted off his shoulders before slumping into a seat next to Brick. "The things you have to do to keep Blockhead off your back, am I right or am I right, Brick?"

The first-class agent gave the man a withering look. "Pardon?"

The man laughed. "Y'know what I mean. Show some pretty thing a good time and then have them cover your trail? What, you haven't done that before?"

"I'm sorry, but do I know you from somewhere?"

The man next to Brick sent him a look that said, 'Yes, you should know me, you idiot.' But instead of voicing these thoughts, the man drawled out, "Chip Wolowitz? I'm an agent just like you."

Brick gave the man a once over. Now that he got a better look at him, yeah, this Chip guy did seem familiar to him, but he couldn't place where.

"You don't remember me, do you?' Chip said as he inspected his nails.

"Uh—no, no! I didn't say that…"

"But you were thinking it." Chip snapped his fingers before pulling out a twenty. "Oh bar-keep? Tom Collins, no rocks." The bartender nodded once and went about making his drink, as he did, Chip smirked at Brick. "Martini, eh? A classic; you really live up to your status as top-gun, don't you?"

Without even taking his eyes off Brick, Chip caught the Tom Collins the bartender slid down to him and then drank it in one shot. Brick, not wanting to admit he was a bit intimated, decided to change the subject.

"You work for the Bureau, eh?"

"Obviously. Bartender, keep 'em coming!" Chip laid a fairly large amount of bills on the counter and the bartender obliged, with a more noticeable bounce in his step. "Although I don't complete such grandiose assignments like you do. Oh, but then again, you don't have those types of assignments anymore, do you?" Brick's eyebrows shot up.

"How did you—?"

Chip scratched the five-o'clock-shadow on his chin. "If I recall, you've been placed on Pistachio duty, haven't you? Lord, that must suck. To go from stopping World War V to saving a pathetic little green nut… talk about a serious downgrade."

As the bartender slid another Tom Collins down to Chip, Brick turned to him, a little on edge. "Yeah, it does. Is there a point to all this Mr.…?"

Chip narrowed his eyes slightly at him, noting the obvious attempt at a power-grab in the conversation. However, instead of taking the bait, the curly-haired man smiled, his neon-green eyes flashing. "Do you remember me from the New Year's Party?"

"What're you talking about?' Brick raised a brow. "I didn't see you at the New Year's Party."

"Well, that's wrong." Chip took a sip of his drink. "I know that everybody saw me at the New Year's Party.

"Ok, you lost me."

"Perhaps it would jog your memory if I get on the floor and start screaming?"

Brick was about to question what he meant, but realization dawned on him. The curly-haired man at the New Year's party, the one who started screaming before passing out on the floor. "That was you?" Chip nodded. Brick took another look at the man sitting beside him and then remembered what he saw yesterday morning. "And you were the one that got knocked out yesterday morning, weren't you?"

Chip gave him a sardonic look. "Was it the bruised nose, or the curly-hair that tipped you off?"

"Honesty? Bruised nose. I saw that girl hit you, looked like it hurt."

"I suppose it still does, but I've been numbed to the pain." Chip shrugged and swallowed the rest of his drink.

"What was the story behind that, anyway?"

"My ex-partner's a temperamental, controlling, and crazy bitch." Chip scowled as another drink was slid down to him. "It always had to be Lotte's way or the highway. God, I hate her."

"From what I've seen, the feeling's mutual." Brick mumbled, swallowing the rest of his martini. "I have to ask, why'd you freak out at the New Year's party?"

An odd look came across Chip's face after he said that. Like he was remembering a dirty-little joke, Chip swallowed the rest of his drink before aksing, "What happened at the New Year's Party?" He chuckled darkly after that question. "What happened at the New Year's Party?"

As Chip let out another dark laugh, Brick turned to the bartender. "Yeah, he's done."

Brick was startled as Chip suddenly latched onto his shoulders with a death grip, spinning him back around, an odd look in his neon-green eyes. "At the New Year's Party… my mind was opened."

Brick nodded along, slowly prying the man's hands off his shoulders. "Ok… You've definitely had enough to drink."

Chip gave him a dark look. "I'm serious, Brick. Once I woke up in the hospital… I was a new man." Noticing Brick's expression, Chip sighed. "Ok, allow me to explain it to you in a more simplified manner." Chip snapped his fingers and suddenly, music from an undiscernible source started up.

"What the hell—?"

"A few years ago, I didn't have a girlfriend or a clue. I was a loser, just like you.~" Chip sang, patting Brick on the shoulder.

"Hey!"

"Good times would onlysoar by. I was gross, as every female would attest, my sexting was a futile quest; My little penis was depressed. He was so lonely, poor guy!~" Chip hopped up from his seat, moving over to stand in front of Brick. "~I was hopeless, hopeless! I was helpless, helpless!Every time I walked ] in the Bureau, I would trip! I was, stagnant and idle. I was so suicidal!~" Chip turned to Brick, a dark smirk on his face as he slowly emphasized his next line. "~And then, then, then, then, then, then, then, then, then, then, then, then, then I got a TICC!~"

Brick blinked in confusion. "You got quick?"

Chip deadpanned. "Not quick, you idiot. I got a TICC!"

"Like the bug?"

"Not the bug, dumbass!"

"Well excuse me, but that's the only one I've heard of!"

"That's the point! This is some top secret, can't-even-look-it-up-on-the-internet-or-in-the-Bureau's-records-shit." Chip slung an arm across Brick's shoulders, pulling the confused man closer. "~It's from the past. It's a grey, oblong pill; quantum nanotechnology CPU. The quantum computer in the pill will travel through your blood until it implants in your brain and tells you what to do.~"

Brick stared at the man, appalled. "Are you taking steroids or something? Because you realize that's against the Code of Conduct, right?"

"It's not a steroid, Brick." Chip rolled his eyes. "It's the best damn thing that's ever happened to me! Do you realize how much my life's improved since I got one?"

Brick shifted awkwardly in his seat. "Should I?"

Chip grinned and gestured to the bathroom. "Remember that pretty little number you saw me with earlier? Three weeks ago, she didn't know I existed. Now? She can't get enough of me. She's practically begging to do the horizontal tango with me, if you catch my drift."

Brick's mind, a bit muddled by the alcohol, immediately reminded him of his latest dream about Vinnie Dakota. Brick glanced at his empty glass, feigning interest. "So, what is it? A drug?"

Chip smiled as if someone told him a joke. "Oh, it's so much better than drugs, Brick." Chip pulled his arm off of Brick's shoulder and hopped onto the counter. "~It's from the past!~"

As he sang this, an array of back-up dancers in neon-green and silver dresses popped up from behind the counter, providing Chip with some back-up vocals and startling Brick just a bit.

"~It's a grey, oblong pill; quantum nanotechnology CPU! The quantum computer in the pill will travel through your blood until it implants in your brain and tells you what to do… It tells you what to do.~" Chip hopped off the counter and the back-up dancers scurried out from behind the counter to accompany him. "~It's pre-programmed, it's amazing! Speaks to you directly. You behave as it's appraising. It helps you act correctly.~" Chip and his back-up dancers struck a pose. "~Helps you to be cool, it helps you rule!~"

Brick blinked. "Wait, what was that last line?"

Ignoring him, Chip reclaimed his seat by Brick, throwing out his arms as if gesturing to the distant horizon. "~Picture this;Nobody cares if you are late 'cause even Blockhead thinks you're great! Your weekend's just a full-on slateof blowout benders, of time-traveling, Rockstar splendors!~" Chip stood up and yanked Brick to his feet, giving the man a little twirl to throw him off his balance as he did so. "~Right now, you're helpless, helpless, you are almost hopeless. On the Bureau's social map, you're barely a blip. But if you take my advice,~" Chip leaned over towards Brick, as if whispering a secret to him, "~And if youpay the listed price, well then, you'll go from sad, to interesting, to hip, yeah, your whole life will flip! When you buy a TICC!~" Chip turned to Brick excitedly. "Y'know, if you're interested, I got a hook-up back in the 21st century. Of course, if you are interested, there is a small-access-fee…"

Still feigning interest, Brick asked, "When you say small-access-fee, you really mean…?"

"Six-hundred dollars."

"Six hundred dollars?!"

"Believe me, it's worth it!" Chip raised a brow and smiled expectantly. "So, what do you have to say?"

Brick glanced between Chip, his back-up dancers, and the two-other people in the bar, who seemed to have not noticed the large musical number that just took place. "I think my first question is how long were those back-up dancers behind the bar?"

Chip laughed a little. "Wow… You know what you need Brick?" Chip slid back into formation with his back-up dancers. "~A TICC! Hey, yeah, a TICC, yeah, yeah, a TICC! A-ah a TICC! No longer a drip when you've got in your grip,a TICC! A TICC! A TICC!~" Chip and his back-up dancers struck one final ending pose before the back-up dancers began dispersing, milling about before digging their coats out from behind the counter and leaving the bar.

Brick blinked before turning to Chip. "Seriously, though, how long were those back-up dancers back there? And why are they here in the first place?"

Chip shrugged nonchalantly. "Eh, their union. They'll travel. So, Brick, what'd ya say?"

Brick glanced between the lingering back-up dancers and Chip before slumping forward just a bit. "I mean, it sounds interesting, but I just don't know. It sounds an awful like a steroid and all—"

"It's not a steroid!" Chip snapped, startling Brick. The curly-haired man took a few calming breaths before snapping his finger to get the bartenders attention, as apparently a musical number wasn't enough to do that. Chip handed the man a hundred-dollar bill. "His drinks on my tab, and keep the change. It's been nice chatting with you Brick. But, I guess a TICC ain't for everybody. I mean, it's not like you want to stay on pistachio-duty, forever right? And it's not like you want to impress a certain someone, right?" A knowing smile on his face, Chip left the bar, his arms draped over the two-remaining back-up dancers as he led them out.

Brick knew he was being manipulated, all the signs were there, and he recognized them. But damn it all to hell, Chip made a good point. Besides, Brick was sick and tired of being on Pistachio duty. And, now that Brick thought about it, it would be nice if he could hold an actual conversation with Vinnie instead of stuttering out nonsense, maybe make some of his dreams a reality?

Blushing madly at the thought, Brick left a few dollars on the counter and left the bar, thoughts immediately going to Vinnie Dakota.

For reference, I picture Chip being voiced by Zachary Levi.