A/N My five-year-old cousin saw me about to post this chapter, and wanted to write a few words of her own. So below I included her lovely addition to the story. ;)
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Polly Graph didn't like to tell anyone, but she tended to get rather lonely at her hot cocoa/lemonade stand.

Granted, sitting outside all day, every day running a self-employed business wasn't exactly the best way to get a social life. Plus, whenever she had unemployed company, potential customers had this awful tendency to believe she was too busy serving someone else, and didn't come up to buy anything. So choosing the success of her business over her friends, Polly remained alone during her work hours.

Little did she know she was about to get that problem solved.

* * * * *

For as long as she could remember, Oz had always been a bit of a melancholy person.

But since ever since the early spring of 2014, Octavia thought, his melancholy had grown more and more into depression.

Puns aside, she almost never saw him anymore. Even when he wasn't on some long-term invisibility case, she could never seem to find him anywhere in headquarters. Not that the other agents were all that helpful. ("Have you seen my pa—?" "OH MY GOODNESS OCTAVIA. NO ONE HAS SEEN YOUR PARTNER IN MONTHS." "No, but you don't understand, I can't—" "JUST PLEASE QUIT ASKING.") As the weeks went by, her distress at his constant absence grew, but deep down Octavia knew it was all because she'd rejected him that spring, then taken an interest in Agent Oren the following November.

So one day, in early 2015, she told him about her concerns, though careful not to mention why she thought he was always gone. "Hmm, you might try talking to Agent Olive," Oren ventured after thinking about it a little. "She had some partner trouble with Oscar around the time we joined, maybe she could give you some advice."

"Oh yeah, I'd heard about that," Octavia said. Then she gave him a look. "That reminds me, how is your be-more-nice-and-less-lazy project going? Because I saw you and Olaf relaxing in the pool chairs the other day and—"

"That was working, I swear!" he insisted. "Ms. O suspected one of the chairs might've turned odd, so Olaf and I had to simulate a beach relaxation and hope one of us didn't get launched or anything!"

"—and being rude to Olive and Otto—"

"Because they thought we weren't working! And then they went on to scare us with our worst fears! Hey, what's so funny?"

Octavia was chortling. "Nothing. Just that I believe you. And thanks for helping me out today, it means a lot to me."

A hint of that arrogant grin came back. "Anything for you, sweetie," he said with a wink, making Octavia giggle even more.

The next day she took his suggestion and asked Olive for advice, this time telling her the entire story without leaving anything out. "The number one thing you need to do is call him and talk to him. Apologize for hurting his feelings and make it clear that you still want to be his friend and partner, and if he gets angry at you, just be patient."

So Octavia tried calling him. But all she got was the dial tone.

* * * * *

It was an uncharacteristically chilly morning in the spring of 2014 that made moping in the park too uncomfortable and brought Oz to Polly Graph's hot chocolate stand—and now lemonade stand, too—for the first time in his Odd Squad career.

Polly jumped at the sight of floating money slamming itself on her counter. "Is...someone there?" she asked hesitantly.

"Oh. Sorry. Agent Oz from Odd Squad," he mumbled, annoyed at his stupid voice for cracking like it always did. "Got turned invisible in an accident last fall."

Her face lit up. "Oz! Yes, I remember now. Olive told me about you. Oh, and hey, while you're here, you wanna fix an odd problem I have?" She pulled out a pink sparkly flip phone to check the time. "He should be coming right about now."

Not really, but I can't exactly say no, so… Oz grimaced (having long since realized the benefit to people not being able to see his face) and asked, "What kind of problem is it?"

Polly made a face. "Ugh, it's this weird duck. He keeps coming to my lemonade stand! And he won't even order lemonade! Watch, here he comes now."

Oz turned to look in the direction she was pointing. Sure enough, into the driveway waddled a fat little yellow duck, who stopped at the base of the stand (Oz moved away) and said to Polly, "Hey! Got any—"

"I DON'T HAVE GRAPES."

"—glue?"

Polly blinked. "What?"

"Got any glue?" the duck repeated.

"What? No, why would I—? Oh..." Her lips flattened into a thin line, and Oz thought he heard a growl in the back of her throat.

The duck seemed to grin. "Good! Then one more question for you." Flapping its wings, the duck hopped up onto the counter, thrust its bill into Polly's face triumphantly, and said, "Got any grapes?"

Polly stared at him for a second, then slowly facepalmed. "I did say yesterday I'd glue you to that tree over there if you came back and asked for grapes, didn't I?" she groaned, her voice muffled by her hand.

Oz hid a snicker. That duck was good.

The duck nodded its head and repeated, "Got any grapes?"

She sighed and forced a smile. "Tell you what. Come back tomorrow and I'll have some grapes ready for you, okay?"

The duck said, "Good day." Then he turned around, hopped down onto the pavement, and waddled away.

As soon as he was out of sight, Polly collapsed back into her seat and banged her head on the counter. "Great. Now I have to go to the store and buy grapes with my earnings for just a stupid duck!"

Oz cleared his throat. "Um, Polly?"

She looked up. "Sorry, forgot you were here. S'pose I should've asked you to zap him with a Duckinator or something like that, to get him to leave me alone."

Probably best she didn't. Mixing up gadgets is how I got into this invisibility mess in the first place. And just like that, his gloomy mood had returned. Picking up the two quarters he'd laid on the counter, Oz waved them in front of her nose to remind her. "Cup of lemonade, please?"

"Yes, of course! Only..." she indicated the thermos of hot chocolate off to the side. "You sure you don't want something warmer? I'm having a blowout sale to get rid of it before summer starts, only ten cents a cup."

He eyed the thermos. That didn't sound like a bad idea, actually. "Sure, I'll do that. Make it five cups, you've already got all the money."

The look on Polly's face was unreadable. "Um, sure thing," she said, a little skeptically.

Five drinks later, Oz found himself with this buzzing feeling that made him feel light and happy inside. "Gee, Polly, you were right. This stuff really hit the spot!"

He didn't see Polly's wince. "Is everything okay, Oz?"

"Just peachy!" He hopped up from his cube seat, feeling a little jittery. "Tell you what, as a favor for the wonderful service, I'll even go and get those grapes for you! How's that sound?"

"That's okay, Oz, you don't need—"

"Awesome possum! Catch ya later!" Satisfied that he had done his job right, Oz staggered over to the tree and more or less fell into the tube entrance.

Too fast to see Polly gaze after where he'd gone worriedly.

Can he even go shopping anywhere without creeping people out? Does he even know that, underneath the sugar and caffeine rush he has to be having right now?

And is it just me, or didn't he sound super depressed when he got here?

* * * * *

"I've called him so many times now. He still won't answer me."

"It's okay, Octavia. We can always track him or ask the Math Room where he is, it's not like he's totally missing."

"But he still won't talk to me. We've been best friends since birth, but he still won't...talk to me..."

"Just give him time. That's all he needs, just give him a little time."

* * * * *

For the next several months Oz visited Polly's stand regularly, up to once or twice a week. Each time he came, he'd show up super upset or melancholy, buy several glasses of lemonade or hot cocoa depending on the season, chat with her about nothing important at all, and leave when he felt happy and jittery again. It worried Polly that he never told her what was wrong, but she felt it wasn't her place to ask. Plus he'd solved her loneliness problem, and she wasn't about to let that go away.

Yet all that changed after the 2014 Jackie Awards.

Now, Oz came by every day, sometimes more than once. Polly was downright scared now. From what she remembered of Oscar explaining to her how the payment system worked at Odd Squad, it seemed Oz was burning through his money faster than he could earn it back. Sure, it was great business for her, but this was taking things too far.

Plus, there was something else…

Which is why one afternoon, nearly a year after he'd first started coming, she immediately put away the drinks as soon as the floating coins slammed down on the countertop. "Oh, no you don't," Polly stated firmly. "You and I need to have a little chat before I let you get into the drink."

Though she couldn't see him, she could imagine his miffed reaction from his voice. "What do you mean, a 'little chat'?"

"I mean," she answered, standing up to all four-and-a-half feet of her height, "I want to know why you've been coming here for the past year now."

"Polly, no, please, that's personal—"

"Well, not anymore! I take my customer satisfaction very seriously, yet I've let you go overboard for almost a year now. It's obvious you're depressed about something and you haven't told anyone what that thing might be. The last customer I had like you was Olive, and she wasn't even remotely close to as bad as you've gotten!" Realizing she'd raised her voice and her cheeks were flushed with emotion, Polly paused and took a deep breath. "Look, Oz, I care about you and I hate hearing your hurt like this. So talk to me. What's been going on?"

There was no reply for a solid minute. But then she heard a sigh. "Okay, fine. It all started right after I turned myself invisible..."

When he finished, Polly could only look at him—or where she thought he was. Actually, I should probably fix that now. "Can you show me where your face is?"

An invisible hand silently took her chin and guided it to the left, then down a bit. "You're looking at my eyes right now," he assured her.

Polly didn't move, for fear of unknowingly losing eye contact. "Oz, look: you need to talk to her. Tell her how you really feel, and listen to what she has to say, too. Two years ago, Olive came to my stand for a similar reason to yours, and stopped coming so much only when she and Oscar were finally forced to talk things through." Her eye twitched uncomfortably, and she rubbed it with a finger and blinked a few times. "Where'd you go?" she asked.

"Here." She felt the hand again, only this time it went to her cheek and stayed there. Trembling a little she gazed at Oz, where she thought his eyes were, and clasped her own hand on top of his. She didn't take it away from her cheek.

"Oz?" she asked, a little confused. "Did talking about it help?"

"...Yeah. Yeah, I think it did." There was a slight chuckle. "And I think...I mean...I think I've moved on, now."

Polly blushed and looked away. The nervous tremors were getting worse. "Are you saying…?"

"I...I don't know. I mean, I've been coming here for a year now, so..."

Neither of them said anything for awhile, watching their breath form clouds in the chilly late winter air. Finally Oz pulled his hand away, and the sound of retreating footsteps indicated his leaving. "I should get back to headquarters again. Y'know, so I can talk to her and stuff."

"Oz, wait!" The footsteps stopped, and Polly smiled. "You can still come back anytime. I've given you back your drinking privilege."

"Okay, Polly. I will." Though she couldn't see it, she thought she could hear him smile back. "Thanks for everything."

Whatever had happened here today, they both knew it was the beginning of something more: a new possibility.