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The best plays happen during halftime.

There was a man fishing from the dock and there were a few small two-person sailboats carving graceful patterns along the water's surface. The lounge itself had been acoustically dampened and was tastefully decorated in rich but subdued colors. The overall effect was of casual elegance and intimacy, though Chase and Box had selected it simply because it was the closest lounge serving refreshments of their choice.

They sat down and as the chair's processors measured and molded the cushions, seatbacks and armrests to their forms Chase said, "The Rectifiers are still up to their old tricks, pal. And as desperate as they've ever been."

"Do tell."

"Well. Initially, I was sent back to November, 1877 this time." Chase looked down and tapped a spot on the table twice, ordering two beers that would be delivered by the wait-bot.

"Man, those waybacks are really not my favorite periods. It smells like shit and the clothes are heavy and hot. Awful."

"Hey, it was better than 1492 when we guaranteed that dude made his boat trip," Chase replied.

"That's true. Or 1773, when we prevented the Rectifiers from stopping the Boston Tea Party." He grinned, his sparkling white teeth peering out from his bushy black beard.

"Right! I haven't thought about that one in awhile," Chase laughed. "You know, those were a lot of fun. I think I'll talk to Hutchins and see if she can find another assignment to send us on. She owes me one."

"Yeah. See if she can send us sometime cool. Like, I don't know, the nineteen sixties."

"Good idea. But not Vietnam stuff."

"No way. Stateside. I'm thinking hippie chicks and free love, buddy," Box said with a wink.

"Now you're talking! I'll see what I can do. But you know, the Rectifiers are sneaky as ever. Not only that, this was just one weird assignment. You're not gonna believe this one. I was there and I'm still not sure I do."

"All right. Let me have it," Box said.

"Okay. It's a long-term assignment, right? Occurred over the course of the past year. A little longer actually because the intel was sketchy and the white coats couldn't pinpoint the signature event in the timeline for some reason."

"Man, those are a drag."

"Tell me about it. Having to leave every thirteen days then return after another thirteen. Standard protocol; I'd have some down time or get sent on other short-termers. I used the usual cover, too."

"The good old business trip routine, eh?"

"Yep. I was a merchant and had to make purchasing trips and shit. Someone else would watch the target while I was gone, but I was tasked to get up close and personal."

"I bet," Box smirked.

"So I meet the target. She's married, of course. I knew that from the briefing. I quickly insinuate myself into her and her husband's lives and become close friends with them. Cool people. Turns out that they'd been trying to have a baby, but she can't get pregnant. The doctors of the time can't find anything wrong with the woman so they figure the guy must be shooting blanks. What the hell did they know back then anyway, you know?"

"Got that right."

"Anyway, one night I'm over at their place and we're partying and shooting the schiss. Had to upload German for this one. So we're shooting the schiss and she excuses herself. The guy hems and haws and finally gets it out that the chamber's empty and would I do them a favor."

"You're schissing me!" Box guffawed and slapped a meaty paw on the table.

Chase laughed, took a drink and leaned in, forearms on the table. "I schiss you not. So he begs me and begs me. I'm their best friend, it would be an honor, how much they want a child, my name can be the kid's middle name, and on and on. I thought it through real quick and decided I had to do it for duty, country, and honor," he finished solemnly, placing his right hand over his heart.

"Oh, please," Box said and rolled his eyes.

"The dude leaves to take a long walk and I go upstairs to their bedroom.

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