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

"Ohmigoodness, did she just say what I think she said?" Olympia whisper-yelled.

"If you think she said 'kumquat,' then no. On the other hand, if you think she said 'O'Donahue,' YES!" Oona whisper-yelled back.

O'Donahue looked at Oscar. "Do you mind if I borrow Oprah for a bit?"

"O'D, I-I'd really like to, I mean I'd love to, but—" Ms. O began to protest.

Oscar cut her off. "No, go right ahead. I think I saw Larry and Phyllis over by the jukebox, I'll go hang out with them for a while. You two have fun."

"Well, I guess if it won't ruin your evening, Oscar." Ms. O bit her lip.

Otis's voice crackled in her ear over the music. "Ms. O, we're in the middle of—"

"No, Otis! She has to go with O'Donahue," Oona said forcefully.

"What? Why?"

"Oona's right, Otis, this is too good of an opportunity for her to pass up. We'll figure it out, but Ms. O needs to go with O'Donahue," Olympia agreed.

"It won't ruin my evening at all, go enjoy yourselves!" Oscar nudged her toward her old partner, smiling broadly.

O'Donahue offered his arm. "After all, I believe I still owe you a milkshake and​ a proper dance." He ran his fingers through his hair sheepishly as "I Wonder Why" by Dion and the Belmonts began to play. "Sixty years isn't too late, is it?"

"Ms. O, turn off your mic and camera," Oona whispered.

Ms. O took her partner's arm, then put her mouth close to the mic and whispered very softly, "Thank you." Oscar smiled as the couple disappeared into the sea of poodle skirts and pompadours on the dance floor.

Otis watched in mild panic as Ms. O's camera feed died. "Well, now what do you two suggest?"

"Relax, Otis, we've still got Otto. We just have to direct Olive to Osc—"

"Hey, uh, Olive?" Otto's voice said.

Olympia's eyes went wide. "No, Otto! You wouldn't! You don't!"

"Yeah, partner?" Olive replied.

"Please, Otto, don't say it."

Otto shifted his weight from leg to leg. "I'm sorry, but I really gotta go to the bathroom."

"Oh, that's no big deal, I'll just go wait at the milkshake bar." Olive jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "It's not far from the bathroom."

Oona screamed internally. "Nonono! That's where Ms. O is going! If they see each other, we're through!"

"I'm really sorry, guys. I'll try to help as soon as I'm done." Otto switched off the chaos in his ear and ran for the bathroom.

"Aaaaand there goes his feed," Otis sighed. "Oona, Olympia, it's up to you."

"Gah! What are we gonna do?"

Oona took a deep breath. "Okay guys, let's be calm," she said, not sounding calm in the least.

"Guys, there is absolutely nothing we can do at this point that won't get us caught!"

Otis looked at all of the monitors, searching desperately for anything that might help. "Alright, let's be logical here. There's a—" BANG! The truck lurched, slamming Otis painfully into the wall of monitors, which flickered sickeningly before going black. With a groan, he pulled himself up and looked out the door. "Noisemaker? What on earth are you doing?!?"

The disheveled villain picked up his mangled bicycle and rubbed his shoulder. "My friend Otis! I am so sorry, I am just here for ze party, ya? I did not mean to run into your ice cream truck!"

Oona put her hand to her ear. "Otis? What was that?"

"That's enough, Noisemaker. Just...just stay there. I'll be back in a second." He ducked back inside and gave each of the unresponsive monitors a whack. "Noisemaker just ran into the truck, says he's only here for the party. No matter why he's here, though, all of my video feeds are down."

"Well, at least we can all still hear each other."

"At least we can still hear each other," Olympia repeated.

Otis furrowed his eyebrows. "Olympia, Oona just said that."

"Wait, I didn't hear Olympia say anyth—oh, crumpets. Otis, I think Noisemaker's crash must've cut off communications between Olympia and me."

"Partner, Oona just said she thinks Noisemaker somehow cut off communications between you and her."

Olympia sighed. "I was just coming to the same conclusion. What do we do?"

"Well, you can't talk to each other, so you can't coordinate yourselves, and my monitors are down so I can't help much."

"Otis, I have an idea," Oona said.

"I think I'm thinking what you're thinking. You're going to have to—"

"—set off the confetti cannons."

"—come outside and fix the- Wait, did you just say confetti cannons?"

"...Nnnnnoooooo. Um, I'll be out in a second."

"Okay, I'll tell Olympia."

"You'll tell me what?"

"Oona is going to come to the truck and fix everything. I guess I'll come inside and take Oona's place until she's done."

Oona dodged dancers as she pushed her way towards the front north door. "That won't work, Otis. I can't work on the audiovisual system unless someone presses the anti-anti-theft-device-device under the hood of the truck every ten seconds or else..." She made a series of zapping sound effects.

"What?!? Why do we even have that?"

"To prevent copper theft. Interestingly, it's the number one—"

"Alright, I get it. Olympia, you're not gonna like this," Otis sighed.

"Don't tell me, you can't come inside?" Olympia cringed.

"Yep."

"So I'll be on my own."

"Yep."

Olympia groaned. "Why must my life be a plot device? Just please tell Oona to hurry."

"Oona, Olympia says to hur—"

"Howdy-do!" Oona interrupted, appearing behind him out of nowhere.

"AUGH! How do you DO that?"

"Not important. Let's get to work."

Meanwhile, Olympia bit her lip as she watched Olive begin to make her way slowly across the dance floor toward the milkshake bar.

Think, Olympia, think. What can you do to get Olive and Oscar together? What resources do I have...? Gadgets! I can get a gadget and make something to lure them towards each other!

She excitedly reached behind her back and closed her hand, only to find fabric.

Grr, I forgot to bring my gadgets when I changed out of my uniform!

"Hey, Otis, could you ask Oona to bring me a gadget before she goes outside?"

Otis strained to reach the anti-anti-theft-device-device, which happened to be a button located inconveniently behind the engine. "Sorry, Olympia, she's already out here. I'd come myself, but I'm trying to keep her from getting electrocuted. Hey, Noisemaker, do you think you could—"

"WAIT! What did you just say?"

"Oh, I was just asking Noisemaker if he would—"

"NOISEMAKER! Otis, I think I have a plan," Olympia declared, dramatically tightening her ponytail as "Rock Around the Clock" started to play.

"Well, what is it?"

"Did Oona bring that extra earpiece?"

"Oona, did you bring the extra earpiece?"

Oona took a wire nut out of her mouth. "Yup, it's in the glovebox."

"Yes, it's in the glovebox."

"Perfect! I accidentally made earpieces with the molds of the villains' ears before I made ours—"

Otis raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Listen, just because it hasn't been established yet doesn't mean it didn't happen. Anyway, Noisemaker's earpiece mold is in the glovebox too. Now, here's what we'll do..." Olympia explained the plan to Otis.

"That might work! Noisemaker, I need you to do me a favor."

"Oh yes, anything to make up for zee crash, my dear friend Otis!"

"Great, first I need you to get into the glovebox and put on the earpiece inside."

Noisemaker did as he was told.

"Perfect, now flip the switch so we can communicate with you. You should be able to hear me, but until Oona gets the comms system fixed you won't be able to hear anyone else."

"I hear you loud und clear!"

"Good, now go inside and cause oddness to lure Olive and Oscar together."

"VHAT?"

"Cause oddness, just a little bit."

"Are you sure about​ zis, Otis? I vill not get in trouble?" Noisemaker asked nervously.

"I'm sure. In fact, you'll receive the official Odd Squad Villain Assistance Appreciation Basket including a card, chocolates, a coupon for a free slushie, two tickets for an all-expenses-paid camping trip to... Hey, Oona, what was the name of that place?"

"Indian Tickle, it's in Newfoundland and Labrador," Oona yelled from inside the truck, tangled in wires under the monitor wall desk.

"Right, a vacation to there, and a loofah, per the Villain/Odd Squad Agreement of 2016. Just go in there and draw enough attention that Olive and Oscar will investigate, but not so much that you scare everyone else, okay?" Otis explained, still straining to reach the button consistently.

"Alright, eef you say so," Noisemaker gulped. With a final tug at his belt, he charged noisily into the club.

Otis pressed the anti-anti-theft-device-device and updated Olympia. "Noisemaker is going in."

"I'm in position, I can just barely see both Olive and Oscar. Tell Noisemaker to come to the middle of the dance floor."

"Noisemaker, go to the middle of the dance floor."

"On eet."

Olympia watched (or, more accurately, heard) him charge through the crowd of dancers. In a single beautiful moment, as if it had been choreographed, Olive and Oscar snapped to attention from their opposite sides of the floor. Olympia smiled. "We've got them."

* * * * *

Olive pushed her way through the dancers, dodging elbows and feet along the way. "Excuse me, pardon me. Ow! Sorry, sir. Noisemaker!"

"Stop right there!" called a voice that definitely wasn't hers.

Olive craned her neck to look around the villain, and her eyes went wide. "Oscar?"

"Olive?" he gasped, his voice an octave higher than before. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm—never mind that for now. Noisemaker, what do you think you're doing here?"

"I vas just... Vhy don't we go talk about eet over here?" Before the pair could respond, Noisemaker pushed through the dancers toward a secluded table about ten feet from the crowd.

Olive and Oscar stared at each other for​ a second before chasing after him.

"Here," Noisemaker gestured to the table with four chairs. "Have a seat." The area was surprisingly quiet, filled only with the sound of distant chatter and "Chantilly Lace" floating through the air.

Reluctantly, Olive and Oscar pulled out two of the red-and-white chairs from under the table and sat side-by side across from Noisemaker. All three stared at each other for a minute.

Finally, Olive broke the awkward silence. "Okay, Noisemaker, spill it!" she demanded, slamming her hand on the table. "Why are you here? To mess up the sound system?"

"Oh no, never vould I mess vis zee music! I am just here for zee party, I promise!" He put his hand over his heart. "Villain's honor."

Oscar leaned over to whisper to Olive. "Do we accept villain's honor now?"

"Not in my precinct, but since Ms. O had that meeting with the villains, Precinct 13579 does."

Oscar sat up. "In that case..."

"You're free to go."

"For now," Oscar added.

"Ah, sank you! Enjoy zee party!" Noisemaker jumped to his feet and waved cheerily, jangling off into the crowd.

Olive chewed her lip and watched him leave. Oscar drummed his fingers on the table and watched Olive. Finally, after several long seconds, Olive met his gaze.

"So, why are you here?"

"Ms. O invited, er, asked me to come. It's our hangout night."

Stupid, stupid! Of course he has a hangout night with Ms. O, just like he does with you! Why would you think yours was special? That he wanted to—

"Oh, really?" Olive replied nonchalantly, fiddling with the zipper on her jacket under the table. Suddenly she was very thankful Noisemaker had them sit. "Otto said you guys were busy tonight. That's why I came."

"I see." Oscar coughed nervously and shifted his weight in his seat.

He just wanted to be friends, he didn't mean anything when he said—

"Y-you look amazing."

Olive couldn't breathe. A million butterflies were instantly released in her stomach, fighting their way up her throat. She gulped. "Oh, um, thank you. Th-the greaser outfit was Otto's idea."

Oscar scratched the back of his neck. "Hah, that's funny, this outfit was Ms. O's idea."

Olive leaned in a little closer to examine his letterman's jacket. "It's fantastic, you look just like Danny—" She stopped. "Zuko..."

Just as suddenly, the butterflies died. Their carcasses settled as a rock in the bottom of her stomach. All of the pieces fit into place, the sudden interest in the 50s, the outfits, the stalling, the long bathroom visit...

"Oscar, they set us up."