How, on earth did it get to this? Christopher and Ford were on a mission in another universe. Recovering a young hostage and eliminating any targets. It was supposed to be a medium-leveled task that would take a day or two. It was in a warehouse. It wasn't the first time they duo's done this. But then, after saving the child, which turned out to be an infant with no family, They decided to keep the baby. She had nowhere else to go, and she had everyone's attatched. Yes, she was quite adorable, anyway. Stanley had fallen under her spell, and took her in. And who were her caretakers? Her saviours, of course. Christopher and Ford. Despite their protests, the baby was only comfortable with those two, always reaching for them and comforted by their presence and no others. It was some sort of benefit for the two; they didn't have to do desk work and just had to take care of the baby. But Jesus, was it a task. Changing her. Feeding her. Calming her. Playing with her. Sleeping with her. It was a draining task, for the two men. She wasn't even able to say her first words yet, just little babbles and noises of either contentment, confusion or absolute terror and despair (her crying). Stanford and Christopher took turns each night, and she became more civilised, not crying every time she woke up or screaming constantly for no apparent reason. Some of the tourists even joked that Ford and Christopher were her parents now, the 'married couple' of the Mystery Shack. Of course, they denied all of it. They were just teammates and friends. Right? Right. Christopher was on the sofa in the shared dorm, sleeping on his back. One hand was to the side of his head, the other on the baby as she slept on his chest. There was a pink blanket around the two, making the scene evermore endearing. Stanford walked past, seeing the sight and smiling softly. Christopher was such a good father. Maybe even a good husband too-- What the hell?! Ford shook his head, flustered. He stayed by the sofa, watching as Christopher slept with, their, baby.