"Down the waterfall...hold the coconut...share it with a friend..."

Agent Obfusco took a deep breath and let it back out slowly, totally relaxed and content again. His evening tai chi ritual finished, he sat back in his wooden office chair and waited.

She arrived promptly at 8:01 PM, just like he'd asked her to. "This has gotta be good if you wanted my advice," Orchid remarked as she plopped down in the visitor's chair and began swinging her legs. "Since you're the better advice-giver."

"No, you're the better advice-giver," Obfusco shot back, and they both smiled. "But seriously, my dear fire ant, I require your help on a, erm, private matter."

Orchid raised an eyebrow. "Private, you say?" Reaching behind her, she pushed on the door so it swung shut. "Is it that private?"

"As private as a blue vacuum sucking up toast and pink custard." Obfusco looked down and caught himself twirling the ends of his regrown moustache, an old nervous habit of his. Knowing he couldn't fool Orchid, he forced himself to put his hands down and leaned forward to tell her. "It concerns one Agent Olaf."

To his complete surprise, Orchid's jaw unexpectedly dropped, and her eyes lit up with that mischievous gleam of hers. She started giggling and gleefully clapping her hands together. "It's true, it's true! I can't believe it, it's actually true!" Hopping up from her chair, she pointed at him and squealed, "You like him back, don't you? Don't you, haha!"

Utterly taken aback, Obfusco could only gape. And he wasn't used to gaping. What does she mean, like him back? "You...y-you know?"

Her titters turned into an amazed laugh. "So you admit it?!"

"No, no! That's not what I'm saying, no!" he quickly said, frantically waving his hands to stop her speculations.

"But it's true?"

Obfusco opened his mouth, then closed it again. He had no truthful answer to that. Not even a confusing one.

By now Orchid had calmed down somewhat. "This is awesome," she said with a laugh in her voice. "And to think I thought Olaf was lying. Honestly I never, ever pictured the two of you together, but here we are!"

"Olaf? Lying about what?"

Orchid rolled her eyes. "That he likes you, silly! I saw him staring at you the other day and asked him about it, so he told me."

I don't believe it. He's interested, too?

"So tell me everything," she said, scooting her chair closer to him and plopping back down again. "When did you first decide you liked him?"

"I told you, I never said that!"

"Whatever. Just start talking." Her voice went to a low and conspiratorial whisper. "I wanna hear everything!"

Obfusco sighed. "Fine, my feisty stoat radish, fine. It began many suns ago, in the Odd Squad Game Room..."

* * * * *

That was what he told Orchid, at least. In reality, it began not suns, not moons, but many, many seasons ago. Back when he and his siblings joined the Los Ángeles Odd Squad in Spanish America in 1731.

Looking back on it nearly three centuries later, Obfusco saw his much younger self as a lot like Agent Olive. Having grown up in a vaquero family, he'd been very serious, a tad rough around the edges, more reliant on hard work than natural talent, and a bit of a loner. Though one of the squad's top agents, for some reason he never seemed to fit in with the other kids. He liked to joke it was the mustache he'd chosen to grow, but actually believed it had more to do with all the partner changes he'd gone through. Countless boys and girls were partners of his over the years, and Obfusco had trouble connecting with any of them beyond work. Especially the boys, for some reason they made him feel more awkward. By 1800, he started to wonder if it was perhaps the Los Ángeles squad itself that made him feel so lonely all the time, and against his brothers' and sister's wishes, applied for transfer to a new, different squad.

And another new squad. And another. And another, and another, and another. Until by 1859 he got to the Toronto squad and still hadn't figured out what was wrong. On the verge of retiring, he somehow found an audience with Old Missie and told her of his dilemma. She merely smiled and said, "Perhaps would you consider changing departments?"

Which was how he found himself working as Head of Events & Support.

Finally, the change he'd been looking for! Instead of working with a partner to solve cases out in the field, Obfusco now got to work solo, using his acquired smarts to teach young agents-in-training at the Odd Squad Academy and to serve as host and intermediary between guest parties in headquarters, whichever was needed at the time. He wrote to his siblings about it, and Obfuscolina, Obfuscolino, and Peter were so impressed with his description of this new department that by 1866 they packed everything up and went to join him on the squad in Toronto.

But though work went much more smoothly, long after the turn of the century, Obfusco found himself at times still feeling lonely and like a misfit. Adopting a confusing dialogue helped fight it somewhat—not to mention he got a kick out of everyone trying to decipher what it was he'd said, even before it became ingrained as his natural speech pattern—but it could only do so much. Same with his southwestern overly polite and overly chivalrous attitude, a part of his personality that seemed not to exist this far north. By the 2000s, Obfusco decided to just resign himself to the fact that, apart from teaching and organizing and the rare tear-jerking compliment from Olive, lonely was who he was going to be.

Until one fateful afternoon on Saturday, October 4, 2014 in the Game Room.

* * * * *

Olaf used to think he was the only agent at Odd Squad who spoke in a confusing way.

Then he met Obfusco.

"And that concludes our dragonfly-thundering lesson on how to make a baloney baseball cap," the mustachioed agent announced, dismissing the group of agents he'd gathered with their meat hat creations. "Now be a punctual peacock on top of a chocolate strudel, and come back tomorrow on Sunday for another lesson in making baloney fedoras!"

Olaf surveyed his handiwork proudly. The bill of the cap was quite a bit lopsided, but it was worth it to have his special potato displayed proudly in the center of his creation. That sure was fun to make, he thought, fitting the cap on his head. Obfusco is a really good teacher. And he's hard to understand, just like me! Maybe… Glancing at his wristwatch, Olaf watched the crowd until it thinned out enough, then stepped forward, closer to the large table Obfusco had demonstrated from. Awoooo! he thought to himself, which meant, I still have a few minutes before I need to get ready for my monthly underwater tennis class. That should give me enough time to speak with him.

"Um...excuse Olaf?"

Obfusco didn't seem to hear. The room was pretty loud with all the chatter and he looked busy packing up his unused baloney and other equipment, so Olaf spoke up again. "Agent Obfusco? Excuse Olaf?"

Still no response. Olaf was getting a little exasperated now, so he shouted out, "Potato!"

That finally worked. Turning to see who'd said that, Obfusco smiled in his mysterious yet amiable way that made other people nervous, including Olaf. "Ah, Agent Olaf! The paneer of pico de gallo and lover of sagacious spuds. What is it you require of me?"

Olaf hesitated. Did he just say something confusing? I think he did, so how come all I heard was a nice compliment? Did I actually understand him? "Um, uh...plippety-plop," he managed.

"I'm sorry?" Obfusco gave him a weird look and began muttering under his breath. With a start Olaf realized the other agent couldn't understand him like Oren could, but was also actually trying to translate it. "Did you say...the class is a compliment and meat is fun?"

With a chortle, Olaf shook his head no. "The utterances which my lips procured were meant to convey my admiration of your laudable skills in instructing a group of pupils, while maintaining an expert dexterity in rapidly constructing your own hat for to exhibit."

"Ohhh," Obfusco answered with a slow nod, and Olaf noticed he seemed to understand his words better that time. "In that case, skipping clover monkeys! I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the positive feedback." And he turned back to his work.

But Olaf wasn't done yet. "Obfusco do Olaf's 'instruction' now?" he blurted out before he could change his mind.

Obfusco stopped. His hands were frozen poised over a baloney package, and for a moment Olaf was worried he'd said something upsetting. But finally he smiled again, and this time it was reflective. "Why not? In return for taking part in mine."

Olaf beamed. "YAY!" he cried, giving him a high-five. That done, he quickly ran off to put on his swimming gear, leaving behind a rather bemused Obfusco.

And yet, as he was securing the straps on his snorkel, Olaf wondered why the vague nervous flutterings in his stomach wouldn't go away…

* * * * *

"So what was the underwater tennis class like?" Orchid asked, giving him a pointed look.

Obfusco ignored the latter. "Tranquil as two stargazing philosophers in a cherry red pickup in the desert," he answered, "yet puzzling as a peregrine falcon swooping over the Antarctic tundra."

"So you liked it?"

"Indeed."

Orchid giggled and twitched her eyebrows. "Anything happen since then?"

Obfusco leaned over and gave her a playful swat across the cheek. "Why in jackalope's name are you still my friend? You're worse than Medusa attempting the Cha Cha Slide."

"No, you are!" she shot back, and they both laughed again. "But does that mean nothing's happened?" Orchid asked, a little disappointed.

"You are correct." He pressed his lips together and sighed, his face suddenly a turmoil of emotions. "I do not understand much of what is in my mind right now. Like a swarm of bees in sheep's wool, none of this makes sense to me, yes or no and right or wrong..."

Though not typically one for sentimentality, Orchid stood up and went over to his sitting figure, slipping an arm around his shoulders. "And maybe it is wrong. Maybe this whole thing is one gigantic mistake. Maybe you two don't really like each other very much, after all. But are you gonna know till you try? Till you talk to him about it?"

"Does it even matter, Orchid? He is a boy, I am a—"

"Oh, now you can't use that argument!" Orchid groaned, crossing her arms and peering down at him through eyes squinting from disapproval. "You can be so outdated sometimes. Because you know what? I'll bet that's what's wrong with you. Why you've been a lonely misfit for 300 years since you joined in 1731."

Obfusco caught his breath. He hadn't told her any of that. "How did you—?"

"Being a lambero has its privileges," she said with a wink, standing back up. "Now I gotta get home before it's past my bedtime. Think about what I said, will ya?" And with that she opened the door and skipped down the darkened hallway, carefreely singing to herself.

A/N No, I'm not trying to tie this in with the canon of "A Frozen Flower", for those of you who've read it. I just thought it would be funny and a cute nod to Perilheart's amazing fanfic. :)