Chapter Text
"Cav, come on, let me fix the tire.”
“No, I’ve got it! I will prove to you that I can fix a tire, and that the incidents you’re so worried about were simply bad luck.”
“Bad luck four times? In four days?”
“... Was it really consecutive? Oh, nevermind that. This time I, Balthazar Cavendish, shall fix a tire without dying!”
“If you insist... I guess I can just head over to Dr. D if I need a new time machine...”
“It will not be needed!”
“... What are we, like, four blocks away? Yeah, I could make it over there on foot.”
“Have a little faith.”
“I do, I have faith this’ll go wrong.”
Cavendish groans in frustration.
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“Wow Dr. D, you scavenged all this from the rubble of your building?” Milo says, looking at the heaps of junk littering his backyard.
“Are we sure he didn’t just bring the rubble here?” Zack comments, kicking a broken piece of machinery. “Ow! Ow, bad idea!”
Melissa snorts. “Well yeah, it’s metal.”
“Important metal,” Doofenshmirtz agrees. “So no more kicking it! Except-except this one, the Kick-It-Up-A-Notch-Inator!”
A small musical sting comes from nowhere as Doof throws out his hands to dramatically present the device.
Zack looks around, a little freaked out. “Where exactly did that come from?”
“No idea!” Doof shouts with the same tone he’d used before. He relaxes again. “Anywho... I do need some help sorting through all of this, I uh... well the organization kind of got messed up when it all crashed...”
“There was never any to begin with,” Norm’s head chimes in.
“Why does he have that again?” Zack whispers.
“I think he’s lonely,” Milo whispers back.
The kids let Doof and Norm keep bickering as they start looking through the piles.
“What’s this one?” Melissa asks, holding up a small hand-held Inator.
“Ah, that’s my Truth-Extractor-Inator! See, I planned to use it on my brother Roger when he was mayor of the city. It makes you tell nothing but the truth, all day, but you don’t even notice you’re telling the truth all the time! Because otherwise you could, you know, just shut your mouth or go home or... or eat something every time you want to talk.”
He takes the device, and smiles. “Ooooh, oh this one is still intact! The only problem with it was I could never get the range right, for some reason it’s stuck with about a four-block range- oops!”
A bright green ray shoots out of the gun, right over the fence of Milo’s yard.
Everyone stares at where the ray had gone for a solid ten seconds.
Then all eyes turn to Doof.
“He-he... my mistake... ah, but it’s alright! It only last for a day or so, so if it even hits somebody, how much truth can they tell in just one day, right?”
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“Cavendish-”
“No, no, I’ve almost done it- huzzah! I’ve done it, I’ve put the tire back on!”
Cavendish gets back into the drivers seat, ready to take off-
“You’ve got road dirt on your face. And on your jacket.”
“What? Oh, good heavens!”
“I told you to put on your work jumpsuit before we left-”
“Oh, do not start this again. Fine, I shall put it on now, happy?”
Cavendish opens his door again to go to the back of the van, and Dakota goes back to his chips.
Just before Cavendish opens the back door, a bright green ray shoots right through the open driver’s side door, hitting Dakota.
“What on Earth was that light?” Cavendish asks as he opens the back of the van.
“What light?”
“That green light!”
“No, the light’s been yellow the whole time we’ve been sittin’ here. It might be broken, actually.”
Cavendish grits his teeth. “Oh... nevermind,” he sighs heavily. He grabs his trash collector’s jumpsuit, quickly puts it on, and gets back into the van.
“Ugh, I despise these things,” he says, pulling at it’s collar. “They look ridiculous. Humiliating.”
Dakota shrugs. “Eh, they’re not that bad. Pretty breathable, and you look cute in yours.”
“Mmm, yes-”
Cavendish’s eyes widen. He takes a second to process what he just heard.
“I look what?”
“You look cute,” Dakota says casually. “Good. Handsome. Really flatters your frame.”
“What are- what do you- I beg your pardon-”
“You okay?”
“I- I- that was completely inappropriate for a work environment!” Cavendish snaps, trying to ignore the sudden blush he feels in his face (he’s not sure why it’s there, but he will blame embarrassment for as long as he possibly can).
Dakota shrugs again. “It’s true.”
Cavendish has no idea how to respond. He just looks away, and starts driving.
Dakota goes back to his chips again, seemingly unbothered by how outlandish his comments had been.
And by how completely flustered he’s made his work partner.