E/N You'll notice the picture header above is of a 50s men's outfit, and this ends up being the costume Otis chooses. Just a reminder that you can find all of these on Agent Olympia's Pinterest account, and I promise all the captions are in-character for her! ;)

Also there's a fairly obvious reference to my fanfic Opalescent below—since it takes place in the same universe as Ships Ahoy and Full Circle, the scene Otis mentions with Dr. O will end up happening in a later chapter of Opalescent (which I PROMISE I WILL WRITE, I haven't forgotten the fic!)

DISCLAIMER: This is not my fanfic, I am merely republishing it with permission after the original got taken down last fall.

Olympia stashed her outfit behind her back as she left the costume room and turned to Otis. "I can't believe it."

"What exactly can you not believe?"

"Just...everything! I mean, Olive and Oscar were together, and Otto is okay with it?"

Otis shrugged. "Well, it makes sense since Otto and Dr. O are together."

"WHAT?!?"

"Yeah, at least I think so. It seemed pretty obvious when we all went to the Club 24 together. I think they've been trying the long distance thing since Otto moved to Montréal HQ. No idea how it's working out, though."

"WHAT?!?!? YOU WENT TO THE CLUB 24 WITH OTTO AND DR. O?"

Otis looked at her like she was insane. "Well, yeah, how do you think I knew about 50s night?"

Olympia looked like she might actually be insane. "Since when do you go to nightclubs? You always say no to new things!"

"Most of the time I do, but Otto said it was 90s night, and you know how much I love ragtime. They must have changed the theme, though, because when we got there they were playing some Buddhist rock band."

"You mean Nirvana?" Olympia asked, squinting at him in disbelief.

"Yeah, that was it. They weren't bad, but I've never heard anything like that from the 1890s."

Olympia shook her head. "So, wait, you've been to the Club 24? What's it like?"

"Well, I assume it's like any other nightclub, but it's open to Odd Squad agents in addition to adults. Sometimes they'll have special throwback nights where they're open to everyone, though, and they decorate the club to match the era, disco balls and neon lights and stuff."

Olympia shook her head again. "I can't believe it. Dr. O and Otto? Olive and Oscar? You go to nightclubs? This whole thing is like a poorly written fanfiction." She sighed. "At least I get to wear a cool costume. I've always loved poodle skirts..."

* * * * *

"Olive, Olive!" Otto yelled, running to her desk.

"For goodness sake Otto, what is it?"

He placed a flyer on her desk and crossed his arms with satisfaction. "Check it out."

Olive eyed the paper suspiciously. "50s night?"

"50s night! Let's go!"

Olive groaned. "Otto, I really don't feel—"

"Please Olive? You know I've always wanted to be from the 1950s."

"I thought you wanted to be from the 1970s."

"That was on Monday, this is Wednesday."

"Couldn't you ask Ms. O or Otis instead?"

Otto panicked internally. "They, uh, already have plans! Yeah, they're busy so they can't come. Will you pleeeease come? It would be much more fun to have someone with me."

"Come on Otto, you know how much I hate wearing dresses."

"So? Go in pants! Like Sandy at the end of Grease."

Olive pictured herself in the all-black leather outfit. Well, it has been forever since Otto and I hung out... "Wait, where are we going to get outfits by tomorrow?"

Otto shrugged. "All head scientists have to take a sewing class, I'm sure Oona would help us out. Unless, of course, you'd rather ask O'Quin—"

"NO! I mean, uh, yeah, why don't we ask Oona. Since she did such a great job helping Oscar with the uniforms when we were in the underground entrance, of course."

Otto nodded in mock seriousness. "Of course. I'm sure O'Quinncy is very busy anyways."

"Yes, very busy, wouldn't want to disturb him," Olive agreed. The partners stared at each other seriously for another moment, then burst into laughter.

"So, you'll come?"

Olive looked at the hopeful eyes of her partner. Alright, Olive, just for today and tomorrow, stop thinking about your own problems and do something for Otto. Enjoy yourself. "Yes, Otto, I think I will."

Otto's face lit up. "Really? That's great! I'll call Ms. O and tell her the good—" He stopped. "I mean, I'll tell her we need Oona's help."

Olive raised an eyebrow. "Okay, then... I've got some stuff to do this afternoon, but maybe we could go see Oona this evening?"

"Sounds good, I'll meet you here at, say, 7:30?"

"Perfect, see you later!"

* * * * *

Oscar opened his badge phone one-handed and wedged it between his ear and shoulder. "Yello?"

"Hey Oscar!"

"Oh, hi Oprah. What's up, heh?" Oscar asked as he distractedly poured a dewar of liquid nitrogen over a toothpaste-covered ping-pong paddle.

"I was wondering if you'd like to come with me to 50s night at the Club 24 tomorrow?"

"Well, uh, I don't know, couldn't you ask Otto?"

"Come on, Oscar, we haven't gotten to hang out all week."

"I, um, that isn't to say I wouldn't like to go, b-but I'd have to make a costume, I've got a ton of work to do, and I'm in the middle of a—" BOOM! "HOLY CRUMPETS!" He dropped his phone and ran to find a fire extinguisher.

"Is everything alright, sir?" Oswald panted, running into the room. "What on earth happened?"

"I-I don't know, I was just pouring the liquid nitrogen over the ping-pong paddle and suddenly—" he finished with a series of sound effects and descriptive gestures as he fumbled with the pin on the extinguisher. A cloud filled the room and put out the fire. Oscar sat on a stool dumbfounded. "I don't understand, liquid nitrogen puts out fires, it doesn't start them. What on earth could've...? Oh my goodness, Oprah!" He dove to the floor and searched for his badge phone. "Oprah, I-I'm really sorry, I just don't think I'll be able to hang out with you tomorrow night. Th-there's just not enough time, I've got to clean and reset the experiment and—"

Oswald tapped his shoulder. "President Oscar, why don't you take the day off? I'll take care of the clean-up and experiment, and you can get ready for tomorrow's evening with Ms. O."

"I couldn't leave you with all that, Oswald," Oscar protested.

"I insist, sir. You need a day off. Now go," she said, pushing him towards the door.

"Well, I, uh, I guess, i-if you insist." Oscar held the phone back up to his ear. "Yeah, Oprah? I'll see you tomorrow night! Okay...alright...will do, bye!" Oscar clicked the badge shut and snapped it back in place. "You're sure you'll be able to handle everything?"

The small girl nodded confidently. "Absolutely, don't worry about a thing. Now enjoy your day!"

"O-okay, just make sure that the toothpaste is spread evenly over the ping-pong paddle."

"Yes, sir."

"Two millimeters thick. And it's extremely important that the toothpaste is orange flavored. No mint!"

"Yes, sir," she replied, pushing him harder towards the door.

He poked his head back through the doorway. "And whatever you do, do NOT use bubblegum flavor! Okay, bye!"

Oswald watched him round the corner before opening her own badge. "Mission successful, Ms. O."

"Great work, Oswald!" Ms. O praised. "We'll take it from here."

* * * * *

Olive walked cheerfully to the Odd Squad warehouse and rapped at the maintenance window. A blonde wavy-haired girl appeared from behind a wall of tools, wiping her greasy hands on a cloth.

"Hello, O'Heather!"

"Hi, Ms. O. Can I help you?"

"As a matter of fact you can," Olive said, pulling a folded piece of paper from her pocket. "Do you think you could make this by 11:30 tomorrow?"

O'Heather tapped the watch on her wrist. "Well, it's 5:00 PM right now and you want it done by 11:30 in the morning, or 11:30 AM. I get off work at 8:00 PM, so that's three hours left today, then I come back at 7:30 tomorrow morning, which would give me one, two, three, four hours tomorrow. Three plus four is seven hours total, so I should have plenty of time."

"Great, thank you! I've got some paperwork to do now, see you tomorrow!

"No problem. Have a good evening, Ms. O!"

"You too, O'Heather."

* * * * *

A blue flash came from behind a tree on 14th Street, dropping a disheveled Oscar three feet to the ground.

"Oof! Aah, student tube operators..." He rubbed his neck and rearranged his glasses before flipping open his badge phone. "Hey, Professor O? Yeah, um, I think O'Connell may need a bit more training," he winced, opening the door to his house. "No, no, not a pond... No, not there either, a tree this time... Yeah, at least three feet..." Wedging the phone under his ear, Oscar grabbed a bag of baby carrots from the fridge, popped one in his mouth and tossed a few to a cluster of bunnies that had followed him into the kitchen. "Well, he sent me to Azerbaijan first, but aside from that... Yep... Why do we even have a tube entrance in a tree? Couldn't they just climb the tree...?" Taking the bag of baby carrots with him, he strolled to his sewing room and plopped in a swivel chair. "Well, yeah, but doesn't it make more sense for them to climb up than having us fall down...? I mean, I guess, but...alright...yeah, Oswald said she'd take care of things for the afternoon... Well, I have a sewing project to take care of and I haven't gotten the supplies moved to my new office yet... Okay, thanks...yeah, I'll be in tomorrow... Bye!"

Oscar snapped the phone shut and stared blankly at the wall of sewing supplies.

Wait. I have no idea what a 50s dance outfit looks like.

* * * * *

Oona bit her lip, deep in concentration, as she gently lowered a tiny metallic disk into the nearly-invisible earpiece on her desk. Suddenly her badge phone rang, and in an instant the earpiece was flying across the room.

"AAAH! Oh, oh dear," Oona stammered and frantically glanced around the lab. "Well, add making a new one of those to my list..." She sighed and opened her phone. "Diane speaking."

"Heh, hey Oona, it's Oscar."

"Oh, howdy-do boss! What can I do you for?"

"Well, Ms. O asked me to come to a 50s thing tomorrow, and I need a costume for it. I was wondering if you could find me some ideas for outfits?"

Alarms began blaring in Oona's head. Make a new earpiece, design Olive and Otto's costumes, make Olive and Otto's costumes... "Hehe, sure, boss!" ...make your own costume, tune up the ice cream surveillance truck... "I've got a little time, do you have any idea of what style you'd like?" ...dig out the tiny cameras, fit all of the earpieces, eat dinner, journal about everything...

"Nope, just come up with a good range of styles to choose from, if you don't mind."

"No, not at all, I'll get that done in a jiffy!" ...study the tapes of Olive and Oscar together, read up on body language cues, FIND OUTFITS FOR OSCAR?!?!?

"Fantastic, thank you Oona!"

"No problem!" she laughed nervously.

"OOOOONAAAAAA!"

"Ope, Ms. O is calling me. I'll send you those pictures just as soon as possible! Bye!" Oona snapped the phone shut and ran up the stairs.

"Good, there you are. I need your help with my outfit for tomorrow."

Oona raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said you already had a costume?"

"Oh, I do," Ms. O said, clicking a button to pull up an image on the screen behind her. "But it seems I've grown a little since the 1950s."

"How old are you?"

Ms. O ignored her question. "I was hoping you could make some alterations on it this evening after you meet with Olive and Otto to fit them."

Oona's face was expressionless. "Could you excuse me for juuuust a moment?" She pulled a gadget from behind her back, zapped her head, waited for a foam orb to appear around it, and let out a blood-curdling scream.

Ms. O's eyes were wide as the foam disappeared. "WHAT was THAT?!?"

"Personal-soundproof-room-inator." Oona flipped the gadget in her hand and promptly dropped it. "It's, uh, still a prototype."

"Oona, if you think this is going to be too much work for you, I can just get—"

"Oh that's okay, I'll be fine," Oona assured her. What are you saying?!? You will definitely NOT be fine! You are NOT FINE, you are the EXACT OPPOSITE OF FINE! "Would you like me to take the measurements now?" Please say no, please say no, I need to work on the gadgets right now! I can't stay over the night shift to work on gadgets, I always fall asleep, and I need every second of day I have to work in the lab! Please say you'll just email them to me or something...

"Well, if you're sure it's not too much, that would be great. Thank you."

Oona forced a smile. "No problem." YES PROBLEM!