Milo Drowssap Cavendish-Dakota
Martin Murphy and his family were on the run. After Milo’s birth, Murphy’s Law had increased to accommodate the fact that a new boy had been born with the Extreme Hereditary Murphy’s Law.
There had been unrest in the neighborhood following the significant increase in Murphy’s Law, but it hadn’t seemed serious…
They had to flee into the night, as unmarked black vans made to surround their house. Fortunately there’s an aspect to Murphy’s Law that it’s a force that will make sure it’s passed down to the next generation.
That, and Martin purposefully rigged the main waterline under the street to explode to help cover their escape.
Martin and his family had at first made their escape in the family RV, but they knew they would have to part with it if they didn’t want to be spotted.
They ditched the RV in a ditch by a ravine several miles outside of the city, and they started to make their way on foot the best they could.
Martin grit his teeth, he would have to steal a car. He didn’t much like the idea, but it was the best he could think to do.
He would spend the next few weeks wondering over what happened next.
He would remember the chaos, all the car alarms in the parking garage going off in near unison. The sprinklers inexplicably turned on, and Martin yelled for Brigitte to take the kids and run.
The suits that had been following them, found them and rounded them back up…minus one family member. Milo.
Martin didn’t dare risk asking Brigitte what had happened, even though he desperately wanted to know, it was best to not draw attention to the fact that they had missed capturing a Murphy.
Murphy’s Law wouldn’t let Milo get killed, or at least—Martin hoped against hope that he was right about that.
In all the chaos, the agents didn’t even realize that they didn’t have Milo.
Martin only prayed that he would be found by someone that could care for him.
It was bad enough that they had been stranded in this time period, but their current plan was to go with the cover of ‘Pistachio Cart Vendors’.
Dakota had been quick to point out that was their most plausible employment now that they had fallen out of contact with the Bureau of Time Travel, but that didn’t mean Cavendish had to like it.
Cavendish had stationed himself nearby a busy mall with a large parking structure, only to have to move the cart when a sudden cacophony of car alarms nearly deafened him.
Cavendish walked around the front of the cart to free the wheels from the breaks. He saw something move out of the corner of his eyes and get near the cart.
A harried woman, who was stashing something in a side panel of the cart.
“What do you think you're—”
“Please,” the woman shot him a desperate look, “Look after Milo—please.”
The woman turned and fled back towards the parking structure. Cavendish peered into the cart’s side-storage, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.
A crying baby boy, wearing a burgundy onesie with purple stripes, looked up to him and started to squirm. There was a full diaper bag left along side him, obviously hastily packed.
The baby’s wide pleading eyes, coupled with the fact that Cavendish had a sudden uneasy feeling about the shouts coming from the parking structure… Cavendish knew, he had to get far away.
Cavendish took the cart and hurried away, the securing the baby’s safety the only thing on his mind.
Dakota had been holding down the fort at the 'H+G’ Water Treatment Co. hideout. Spending most of the day trying raise a signal on their main communicator.
None of the communicators that were sprinkled around town had worked. Not the one in the photo booth, not the one in the basement of the deli on 4th street (great sandwiches as always though, so their visit wasn’t a total loss), and definitely not their portable communicator.
They also hadn’t been able to locate Brick and Savannah, so that was worrying.
No amount of fiddling got him any signal. None, nada— the communicator was just flat out receiving nothing. The communicators had all turned on, but they hadn’t even detected a signal from the future.
Cavendish and Dakota were officially Stranded Time Travelers.
Dakota heard a knock at the door, three knocks at the middle of the door, and one knock at the top.
Cavendish and Dakota had long worked out a sort of special 'secret knock’, unique to their partnership.
Cavendish would give three knocks at the middle at the door, one at the very top. Dakota, being shorter, would knock three times at the middle before tapping out the familiar 'shave and a haircut’ near the bottom of the door.
“Vinnie,” Cavendish’s unique British voice called out from behind the door, “be a dear and open the door…my arms are a bit full I’m afraid.”
“Oooh,” Dakota said, interest peaked, “Did you pick up some food or—” Dakota paused as he opened the door, his eyebrows shooting up above his glasses.
“Uh.” Dakota said, absolutely dumbfounded at the sight of his partner carrying a strange baby, “I’m hoping you have a good explanation for this?”
As he was regaling his tale to Dakota, Dakota took the baby, who was apparently named Milo, in his arms to change his diaper.
“So…Milo’s mom told you to look after him?” Dakota wondered aloud as he swaddled the still upset baby in the hopes of calming him down, “I wonder what could have happened that she’d be willing to leave her baby with a stranger?”
Cavendish sighed, “I wish I knew- it seemed she was in some trouble…like someone was pursuing her?” Cavendish speculated aloud, “You should have heard the chaos at that parking garage- whatever was happening wasn’t anything good.”
“Well, it’s good you were there to get the kid away from there.” Dakota acknowledged as he set about preparing a bottle for, a much calmer, baby boy.
“How’d you get so good with kids?” Cavendish marveled as Dakota handed him Milo while he heated up the baby formula, “Not that I’m complaining mind you.”
Dakota shrugged, “I got a lot of cousins- you’ve seen my family photos, the Drowssap family reunion basically was a child wrangling practice course.”
“Speaking of family,” Cavendish said as he cradled Milo close to his chest, “Should we report the child to the authorities?”
Dakota shook his head, “No I agree with your gut on this one, there was something after that lady. We don’t know who we can trust with the kids’ safety; not to mention that we’d be interrogated as to just who we are…”
“Point taken,” Cavendish coincides, “don’t want to risk blowing our cover.”
Dakota scooped Milo back up and offered him the bottle. The little child took to the bottle very eagerly, obviously very hungry.
“Besides,” Dakota chuckled at Milo’s adorable happy noises, “between the two of us, we can care for a baby.”
“Yes, the two of us can handle anything thrown our way.” Cavendish smiled as he observed Milo give out a contented sigh, “How hard can caring for one child be?”
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