E/N The header image above is just to prove I'm not lying about the Pinterest accounts ;) do go check them out!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own this fanfic, I am republishing it with permission.

Olive placed a purple octagonal file in the cabinet behind her desk and glanced up at Otto. "Files?"

Otto dug through a mound of papers. "Aha, check!"

She took the files from him. "Thank you. Gadgets returned?"

"All but this," he replied, holding up his personal toothbrush-inator.

"Drawers locked?"

"Yup."

"Logged out of your computer?"

"Yes."

"Soundcheck deleted from your OddPod?"

"Ye—wait, what?!"

Olive shrugged and chuckled. "It was worth a shot. Do you happen to know why the night shift is taking over early tonight?"

Otto shrugged. "Something about a case that could only be solved between 7 and 8:30, I think."

Olive raised an eyebrow. "That's convenient."

Otto duct-taped his toothbrush-inator across his chest. "Hey, I'm not questioning it! Are we ready to go?"

Olive glanced around the room. "I think so."

She and Otto nodded at each other and slid away the panels concealing their tube entrances. "Squishinating!"

* * * * *

Oona and Olympia held their breath as, yet again, the scientist lowered a tiny metallic disk into the nearly-invisible earpiece on her desk. Slowly, Oona pulled her hands away from the workspace and watched the device intently, waiting for it to jump off the desk to join its invisible brethren.

"Hah," Olympia breathed.

"It worked." Oona looked up slowly. "Oh my goodness, it worked! Now I just have to make four more!"

Olympia thought for a moment. "Ah, I know!" She pulled a gadget from behind her back with a ding and zapped the earpiece five times. "Duplicator-inator. Five earpieces ready to go, plus one extra for good measure. Now you won't have to risk, I don't know, someone startling you while you work?" she said a bit sheepishly. "Or something like that."

Oona smiled. "Like that would ever happen. So, to quote Dr. O, what's next?"

Olympia consulted the list. "Well, we've eaten dinner; you've tuned up the ice cream truck, made the electronics for the earpieces, and done the alterations on Ms. O's dress; Otis found the tiny cameras and is testing them with Owen; I've gotten all of the earpiece parts fitted..."

Oona shook her head with awe. "Who'd've thought we'd actually use those molds of our ears that we take every month?"

"I know, right? Anyways, all that's left are Olive and Otto's outfits, Oscar's outfit ideas, examining the tapes of Olive and Oscar together, and brushing up on body language. It's 7:25 right now, so I should probably go back to my desk and let you get ready for Olive and Otto. I can find some outfits for Oscar and make a group board on Pinterest so you can pin whatever outfits you find later, too."

"Great. See you later, then!"

"Alright, have a good night Oona, and be sure to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow!"

"I will!" Oona called as she turned to leave. "And Olympia?"

She stopped and turned around. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for helping me."

Olympia smiled. "Well, that's what friends do."

* * * * *

Oona stood up a bit straighter at the sound of footsteps and familiar voices approaching the lab.

Olive smiled. "Hi Oona!"

"Howdy-do, guys! Ms. O said you needed me to do something for you?"

"Yep! We're going to a 50s night and need you to make our outfits," Otto replied, a bit too animatedly.

Olive glanced at him. "If you have time to do it, that is."

Oona scoffed. "Psh, of course I have the time! Follow me."

The pair followed her as she speedwalked down the labyrinth of door-lined halls. Suddenly she came to a stop and grinned a bit maniacally. "Welcome to the Wardrobe Room!"

Olive walked through the door and slowly turned to look around the massive room, filled to the brim with clothes. "Whoa. We didn't have this when we were here."

"Hundreds of outfits for each agent, made with the appropriate materials for every era and area. I don't have any for you two, of course, but if you come this way, I have everything I'll need to make your outfits."

Olive and Otto followed her through the rows of racks and into a cozy sub-room filled with thread and fabric of all sorts.

Oona sat in a swivel chair and plopped her feet on a desk. "Now, what kind of 50s outfits were you thinking of?"

"Something Grease-ish," Olive began. "A leather jacket would be nice—"

"Soundcheck didn't let us keep the ones we wore when we sang with them," Otto explained.

"Right, so I'll need a new one. And pants."

Oona turned to the computer screen behind her and did a quick search. "How about somethinnnnggg...like this?"

The outfit was mostly black, with just a few accents of red, and lots of leather. "Perfect, but I think I'll wear my old red field agent Chucks instead of those heels."

Oona nodded in agreement. "Great! How about you, Otto?"

"Same thing, greaser. Preferably also with pants."

Jokingly, Olive rolled her eyes and elbowed him.

Oona tapped on the keyboard again, bringing up a black-and-white picture of a greaser guy. "It'll take a lot of hair gel, but—"

"Say no more," Otto interrupted, stroking the screen. "It's perfect."

"Oooookay then, let's just take some measurements." Oona pulled a gadget from behind her back with a ding and zapped the pair.

Olive's eyebrows shot up. "What was that?"

Oona displayed the gadget proudly. "Automatic-remote-measurement-takerinator. It's much quicker and more accurate than the traditional method. And it can do this!" With a click, a sewing mannequin in the corner whirred to adjust to Olive's measurements. "Cool, right? I should have these finished sometime after noon tomorrow, and it would be nice if you could come try them on as soon as possible so that I have time to make any alterations."

Olive cringed. "Ooh, I have plans for that time."

Otto shrugged. "That's okay, I'll come pick them up, bring yours to try on, and take it back if we need to."

"That sounds good to me!"

Oona clapped. "Perfect! I'll get right to work, the night shift doesn't take over for another fifteen minutes here."

"Thank you, Oona," Olive said gratefully.

"Yeah, we really appreciate it," Otto added with a wink.

"Pfft, it's no problem. Hey, are you guys heading by Ms. O's office before you leave?"

"I think so."

Oona picked up a small box from underneath her desk. "Would you mind taking this to her for me? I'd really appreciate it."

Olive took the package from her. "Sure, it's the least we can do. Have a good night!"

"You too! See you tomorrow, Otto!"

* * * * *

Ms. O sat in her darkened office with nothing but a box and ten minutes to herself. With a final glance at the door, she opened the box and stared, confused, at the neatly-packed empty juice boxes inside. Eyebrows furrowed, she gingerly lifted one of the containers and examined it.

Why on earth would Oona send me empty juice boxes?

Suddenly a piece of paper fluttered into her lap. She unfolded it and read the tiny writing.

Dear Ms. O,

I put the juice boxes in just in case they got curious. Hope it fits, let me know if I need to make any adjustments.

Oona

Eagerly, Ms. O tossed aside the rest of the juice boxes from the larger box to reveal the red fabric she knew so well. With a glance at the clock, she threw the dress on and summoned a mirror from a wall panel. In the reflection, "Ms. O" was gone. "Agent" was gone. Only Oprah remained. The cool cotton felt familiar on her skin, every white polka dot just a tiny bit yellowed from age, every seam a reminder of the day she had worn it for the very first time. She closed her eyes and inhaled the smells she'd've sworn lingered all the way from 1959. It fit perfectly, just as it had for that first dance. With a sigh, she slipped the red-and-white dress back onto the hanger it had occupied for much of the past fifty years and smoothed it one last time.

"Until tomorrow, huh, old friend?"