A/N Below is the author's note I wrote back when I first published this chapter in mid-May. Decided to include it because I thought it was funny:

Here's an inside look at my brain right now, after writing this nearly 6,000 word chapter in less than 24 hours:

[deep breath] HHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

This has been an inside look at my brain. Thank you. Now continue reading.

If there was one thing Olive didn't like about getting back together with Oscar, it was that she now had to fake being exasperated with him.

See, both of them had agreed not to tell Otto about their newfound relationship. But in order to do that, they couldn't just immediately start acting friendly again after a whole year of trying to avoid each other. Neither of them were particularly happy about it—Oscar had to go with indifferent earnestness while Olive mild to moderate irritation—mainly because they had gotten tired of it when these were real feelings with a real reason behind them. And now that they had made up and gotten together, it was kind of a drag not to be able to express their excitement about it.

But as time went on, they found ways to be subtle. A couple weeks after Odd Todd made his big reveal but before he appeared again at the O Games, Olive and Oscar had the opportunity to test their acting abilities when Olive got flattened by Fladam. Right away, Oscar had to restrain himself from running over to see if she was alright—not only would it have looked suspicious to Otto, but it probably would have been genuinely annoying and patronizing to Olive. So he settled for methodically but slightly nervously selecting his 3D-inator and using it on her.

Unfortunately, due to the nature of the way she had been flattened, it didn't work. "Sorry, Olive," he sighed. "The only way to get you back is to get Fladam's 2-D glasses."

Otto gave him a look. "2-D?"

"The D stands for dimensions. When something is 3-D, it has three dimensions—height, width, and depth. Kinda like this cube here!"

Flat Olive narrowed her eyes. She didn't recognize the gadget he was holding.

Neither did Otto. "Cool! What does that thing do?"

"It holds my retainer," Oscar matter-of-factly answered.

Ohhh, right, Olive remembered. He got his retainer after his braces came off several years back.

Not that Otto knew Oscar had ever had braces. "Huh. I didn't know you wore one."

"Well, mainly at night, but my orthodontist would prefer if I wore one 24/7—"

"Ahem?" Olive got their attention again. Acting or no, they were getting off topic. So Oscar quickly went on to explain how Olive was 2-D and not 3-D, but none of it was helping anything. "Ugh, I'm so upset!" she cried, turning away.

Suddenly there were shouts of alarm from the boys. "OLIVE! WHERE'D YOU GO?!"

"Huh?" Olive quickly looked down at herself. Do they think I've turned invisible or something? I'm pretty sure I can still see myself.

"You just disappeared," Otto gasped.

What are they talking about? "No, I didn't disap—" Wait a minute, I think I know what's going on here. Sure enough, turning back to face them, she saw the relief on their faces. "I'm two-dimensional, remember? I have heighth and width, but no depth. That means I have no thickness. So when I turn, it's hard to see me."

Olive easily recognized the thoughtful look on Oscar's face that followed, and she knew he was about to make one of his not-exactly-acceptable remarks. Oh, goodness, I hope he doesn't decide to make a fat joke about what I just said. We did say acting, but that'd be pushing it.

He didn't, thankfully. "Y'know," he speculated, "if we can't turn you back, that's a pretty cool trick, heh!"

Haha, that probably wasn't even acting. Olive wanted to laugh at his honest opinion, but caught herself just in time and managed to turn it into a groan. Good thing being 2-D distorts my movements, otherwise I might not have gotten away with that.

Oscar cleared his throat and started fidgeting. "We'll t-turn you back, ahem."

At that moment Otto jumped in and got them back on track again with an idea of how to corner Fladam and get his glasses. After eliminating Oscar's retainer cube as an option for bait, Otto ran out of the lab to find six similar-sized squares. "Hurry up!" Olive called after him, then looked at Oscar. "Were you actually acting, or was that real?" she said in a low voice.

"Um...a bit of both, maybe?"

Olive gave him a 2-D grin. "That's what I thought. Good job, though. This whole thing might be easier than I hoped." She grimaced. "If only it didn't hurt so much that I can't put my arms down..."

It was nice, then, that they later got a lucky break when Ms. O took Otto up to witness the beginning of Fladam's sensory cube therapy, leaving Oscar alone to cure Olive with the hot-wired 2-D glasses. Of course, they had to go up and rejoin the other two sometime. But for one perfect moment, they didn't have to worry about acting.

* * * * *

"...And that's what happened to Octavia's partner."

"Yup. Turned him invisible the rest of his life," Olive finished, sitting back in her chair and folding her arms.

Otto shook his head and tsked. "Kinda sad he had to leave Odd Squad 'cuz of an accident."

Olive frowned. "He didn't leave."

"...What?"

"Oz used his invisibility to his advantage," she explained. "Now, he's one of the best agents on the squad." If one of the loneliest, she added to herself. Poor guy.

Then a movement across the foyer caught her eye. Is he back? I think he's finally back! "Look," she said to Otto, pointing as Oz sneezed and Octavia hopped up to grab him a tissue.

Otto stared at them in amazement. "An invisible agent..."

Olive had to smile at her partner's naïvety. "Oh, he's not the only one. I'd estimate there are about a hundred invisible agents here." She fought not to laugh at his reaction, remembering her own similar one the first time Oscar had told her about them.

Speaking of Oscar...

I still need to pick up a new Toothbrushinator from the Lab, she remembered. If there's one thing I love about Odd Squad, it's the great dental gadgets. Looking up, she waved at Oscar across the way and slid out of her chair, leaving Otto to ponder further on the matter of invisible agents.

Funny how I used to be annoyed at Oscar for how calm he could be during a crisis, Olive reflected as she made her way to the Lab. Yet it was his level-headedness that saved Octavia and Oz from the black hole. "Hey, Oscar!" she greeted the scientist at his work table, noticing he had an unfamiliar gadget in his hands. "What are you making?"

"It's an Un-Basket-of-Yarn-inator, heh!" he answered proudly, plucking the little strand of yarn on top.

"Oh." She nodded slowly. "Um, what's it for?"

"No idea! I just build something and it sort of works out!" came the reply. As a matter of fact, they subsequently got an unexpected demonstration when Agent O'Malley wandered in with his head turned into a basket of yarn. After fixing it, Oscar set the gadget down and turned back to Olive. "Now, what can I do you for?"

Olive started, shaken from her thoughts of being impressed by Oscar's gadget-building intuition and serendipity. "Oh! Um, yeah! Do you have any more Toothbrushinators?"

"Uh, yeah..." he answered, turning back around to check the display on the wall behind him. "Yeah, I've got about twenty of them! Right next to that photo of me as a Tube Operator."

"Wait, what?" Olive gaped at the photo, depicting her former partner in a Maintenance uniform and with a ginger mullet. "You used to be a Tube Operator?" How many secrets are there about you that I still don't know? she thought, a little stung.

"Oh, yeah! It was before you joined the squad," he explained, a little sheepishly. "D-did I never tell you about this?"

In the absence of anyone to pretend for, his guilt was all she needed to forgive him. "It's alright," she smiled. "I just told Otto the story of how Oz became invisible, so now it's my turn to hear a story today."

Oscar smiled back, reassured. "Oh! Good. Well, in that case, I remember it like it was yesterday..."

* * * * *

If there was one thing Otto didn't like about his developing interest in Dr. O, it was not knowing how to talk to her about it.

See, whether she knew she was doing this or not, the doctor had such a quirky mode of conversing that it was impossible to explain nearly anything not medically-related to her. Or at least, it was hard for Otto to find the words that would make sense for him to say to her, in his own ears. On the day Ms. O and Oscar switched bodies and Dr. O came close to figuring out what had happened, Otto got so nervous upon seeing her that he could barely force out the words, "I-I-I'm Olive!" (Although on the plus side, he learned that her favorite food was pickles, after unicorn tears.) Then later on the Eve of the 2015 New Year, he had a completely opposite reaction when Dr. O finished his sentence, and felt pretty proud that she approved of his idea enough to reverse her own pink goo prescription for Olive. But he could never bring himself to mention this to her. At the end of the day, it seemed to Otto that he just couldn't make up his mind on how to act around the doctor, let alone how to say he liked her back.

In a way, his first attempt at this had been two weeks before the New Year's Eve countdown crook incident. That evening after work, Otto had been out on the town buying some last-minute Christmas gifts in one of Toronto's more prominent shopping plazas, when he noticed a familiar figure with her face pressed against the window of a toy store. Keeping at a distance so she wouldn't notice him, he looked out of the corner of his eye at Dr. O, hair down and wearing a brown winter coat instead of her uniform, gazing at a teal bike on display inside the shop. He suddenly recalled her mentioning to Olive on the day Ori ran off that she did a little babysitting on the side to save up for a bike, and this must've been the bike she was referring to. But instead of going in to purchase it as he assumed she would, he watched Dr. O heave a sad sigh and trudge away through the snow.

The pitiful sight made Otto feel sad, too. Quickly he checked his pockets. I think I have enough money left over to chip in for half the purchase, he thought, and reached for his badge phone to dial the number 56. "Oscar? Feel like helping me buy a bike for Dr. O's Christmas present?"

That had been months ago. Today, he decided enough was enough.

"Um, hey, Doctor," he said, leaning against the doorframe of her office. "How's it going for you these days?"

Dr. O looked up at him and immediately looked back down at her work. "Fine, thank you, doctor. Except when I was interrogated today, that was not fine."

"Oh." Otto cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, um, listen, I'm sorry about that, really. It's just that we had to go through our entire list of suspects, and you were here, so..." When Dr. O didn't react, he kept going. "To be honest, I never thought you stole Obfusco's moustache. None of the evidence ever pointed to you."

She looked back up and squinted a little. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. I mean, there wasn't any reason for you to steal it. You didn't have many arguments with him and you solved plenty of cases on your own, without any lucky charms." As he'd been talking, Otto found himself inching farther into the room, closer to the doctor's desk.

"Medical cases," Dr. O corrected softly, not taking her eyes off him. "I don't solve cases out in the field. I'm a doctor, not a...not an agent."

Abruptly she stood up right as Otto stopped at the front of her desk. They were staring at each other eye-to-eye now.

"I mean...I used to be an agent...but..."

Otto searched for the words to say, but found none. Not even a doctor-related joke. She probably wouldn't understand it anyhow, he thought. Not if she doesn't have time for jokes or anything not serious enough—

"Opal."

"Hunhwhat?"

"Opal. That's my real name. I was Agent Opal before I was Dr. O. But we used the first letter of my last name, P, so my badge could add up to 60 and I wouldn't have the same number as...Nurse Otha..."

"Opal, huh?" Otto smiled at her. "That's a really pretty name. Like the gemstone. It sort of fits you, I think."

"What do you mean?" The usual clipped curtness was gone from her voice.

"Have you ever seen an opal?" When she shook her head, Otto explained. "They look a bit plain and boring white on the outside, but when you hold them up to the light, you can see the rainbow of colors on the inside." Slowly, afraid she might flinch away, he reached out and brushed her hand. "Opals are also kinda like snowflakes. No two are alike. Each one has its own unique color combination."

"But you'd never know unless you took the time to hold them up to the light and look on the inside," she whispered. Then she blinked, and part of her professional demeanor returned. "How do you know all this, anyhow?" she wanted to know, drawing her hand back a little.

"My cousin was born in October, and it's her birthstone. She likes telling me about that kind of stuff." Taking a chance, Otto reached out again, but this time he took her hand in this and squeezed it. "And I'm glad she did." After hesitating a moment, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves and said, "Doctor, can I ask you something?"

"You can call me Opal here."

"Okay then, Opal. Can I ask if you...I mean, I think...do you...like me?"

Dr. O—Opal—inhaled sharply. Her eyes, a kind of watery muddy color that Otto rather liked, held a sort of fear and uncertainty inside them. "I'm a doctor, not a lover."

"Yes or no, Opal."

She exhaled and looked down at the floor. "Yes."

Otto felt a rushing sensation inside of him, good or bad he didn't know. What could someone so serious possibly see in someone so silly? he wondered, scarcely daring to believe what she said. And what could I, someone so silly, possibly see in her, someone so serious?

"How long have you known?"

"Since the O Games," he told her, taking his other hand and putting it on top of theirs. "That's when I started...um, y'know, liking you, too."

"Oh." Opal pressed her lips together. "Look, Otto, I know we're both kids, but—"

"Hey, Sherman!"

Just like that Opal jerked her hands away and sat back down, trying to look like she was hard at work. Otto swiveled around—and groaned. "Hi, Orchid. Now how long have you been standing there?"

The feisty seven-year-old rival agent giggled mischievously. "Long enough, that's for sure." She winked. "But don't worry, I won't tell on you. Not yet, anyways." And with that she skipped away, humming to herself.

The moment between them ruined, Otto quietly left the office, while Opal continued on with her deskwork. Both of them hoping neither had noticed how flushed they were.

Meanwhile, Orchid was smug. Let them think I might blackmail them. After all, they don't know about my secret...

* * * * *

If there was one thing Oscar didn't like about reconciling with Olive, it was that he had to be super careful about where and when to show it.

At first, between her Investigational work and his adviser and Lab duties, there wasn't much time to spend together anyhow, and it was easier to keep up the pretense. But now, like Olive, he found the whole acting thing to be more and more of a drag as the months went on. It was now late spring, early summer of 2015, and as far as they knew, neither Otto nor Ms. O had a clue about what was going on between the two of them. Even though they were no longer nearly as strict about keeping it hidden, and they were more open about portraying a typical friendship where Oscar only annoyed Olive every now and then.

One of these times was the day Polly supposedly quit her lemonade stand, on June 8th. After collecting testimony from Todd and "evidence" from Polly, Olive and Otto brought the bar graphs back to Oscar for him to verify with the Truth-Snifferinator. As he hooked up the gadget, Oscar spotted Olive glancing at Otto with a look of satisfaction, which made him feel very proud indeed. But a few moments later as he ran the gadget, he also saw her flinch and roll her eyes at him, as if she'd never seen the gadget used before. Since Oscar knew that was definitely not true, he could tell she was acting.

Of course, she definitely wasn't acting when he reported, "I'm sorry, but the information on these graphs...is true," and they both gasped in shock. "That's impossible!" Olive contended.

"The Truth-Snifferinator never messes up," Oscar disagreed. "Unless it catches a cold."

Both agents clearly didn't like that. "I don't know," Otto surmised, a little reluctantly. "Maybe Odd Todd was telling the truth. Maybe...he actually sells lemonade now."

Olive shook her head. "But Todd never does anything normal," she argued, starting to pace toward Oscar. "His goal is to spread oddness at all costs!"

Nobody knew what to say to that, so they all stayed silent and thought hard. Then a movement and a popping sound caught Oscar's attention, and he looked up. "Um, Olive? Do you think it has to do with Otto's lemon head?"

She whirled around—and gasped. Otto started making muffled screams and clutching his new lemon head in a panic. Remembering how Olive's hearing problems made her good with languages, Oscar asked her, "What's he saying?"

"Todd's lemonade is so sour, it's making heads turn into lemons!" came the worried reply. "Don't worry partner, I'll fix this!"

More lemon noises.

"I know," she said sympathetically, "I feel the same way." And without another word she hurried off toward the Tubes.

Oscar watched her go. "Aw, man," he remarked, a little jealous. "I wish I could speak lemon." So as Otto kept making his desperate lemon noises, Oscar didn't know what to say back. So instead, now that Olive was gone, he ran through the events of the past few minutes in his head to make sure Otto hadn't seen anything. Nope, we're good. Olive acted both annoyed and indifferent, but not too much of each.

That had been on June 8th. Two weeks before, however, on May 26th, was another story...

* * * * *

"Oscar, meet 21-year-old Olive."

Oscar glanced up—and did a double take. Standing in front of him was someone who looked like his Olive, but...older. And taller. And...helpless. "Olive! Is that you?"

Even as he said it, the reality of what had happened to her sank in. Oh my God, no, he thought, his mind a mix of horror and guilt. The Flip-Floppernator—my gadget—it did that to her?

Because it can flip any number. Including ages.

And I let it fall into the wrong hands.

"Please tell me you can fix this," Olive pleaded, her lower voice making her sound tired and without much hope.

And he was going to have to confirm her fears. "I've tried everything," he lamented, setting down the gadget he'd been inspecting. "The only way we can get you back," with some effort he looked up—up, he wasn't used to that—and met her eyes, "is to get the Flip-Floppernator back."

Olive looked away and exhaled. Any hope she'd had was gone. It tugged at Oscar's heartstrings to see her so dejected like this.

Things were about to get worse, too. "In the meantime," Ms. O said, holding out her hand, "I need your badge."

"WHAT?!" Olive and Otto blurted out simultaneously.

"Odd Squad is kids only, and right now, you are not that." Her voice softened a little. "I'm sorry, but those are the rules."

Biting her lip, Olive dutifully pulled her badge off and handed it to Ms. O, staring at the floor in shame the entire time.

Oh, Olive... Suddenly Oscar felt a deep anger toward Odd Todd. That twisted monster of an agent was responsible for all of this, in the end. Way back when, in their partner days, Oscar had tried to explain to Olive how he didn't trust him, and long since had he been proven right. It wasn't safe for Todd to be so obsessed with her as he was. Look where that got us.

Meanwhile, Orchid was explaining to Ms. O how she couldn't go fight Todd for fear of turning seventy instead of seven, and subsequently brought out her 81-year-old grandpa to explain why he couldn't, either. For a moment, Oscar wasn't sure whether to be shocked at the fact she'd somehow snuck her grandpa into HQ, or that the old man had no interest whatsoever in being eighteen again. But then that got him thinking. Is it possible that anyone could stop Todd at all, if he's got the Flip-Floppernator? Olive's already been hit, Orchid would turn too old, poor Otto would become a baby again, Ms. O I'm afraid to think about what might happen, and me—

Wait a minute...

"I can stop Odd Todd," he announced.

Six pairs of eyes turned to look at him, plus the rest of the squad outside the lab.

Oscar clicked his remote to pull up the number 11 on the lab screen. "I'm eleven," he explained. "There's a one in the tens place and a one in the ones place. Even if you flip it, eleven still stays eleven." He grinned. "Odd Todd can't do anything to me!"

The look in Olive's eyes—still a beautiful golden-brown—held worlds. You would do that for me? she seemed to say.

Ms. O looked skeptical. "I don't know..."

Orchid's grandpa spoke up. "Give the kid a chance," he said with a wise old smile.

It was all he needed to convince her. "Even though you being here is wrong," Ms. O conceded, "What you're saying is right." She turned back to the scientist. "Go get 'em, Oscar!"

Amidst cheers, applause, and a clenched fist from Olive, Oscar steeled himself and theatrically dashed out to find Todd.

Or, rather, first to go to the nearest grocery store. Gotta have something to fight him with, he thought, the gears in his scientist's brain turning as he came up with a plan.

The better part of an hour later, Oscar found himself standing on the corner of quaint little Oak Street, watching Odd Squad's arch nemesis torment an innocent civilian who just wanted to order a pizza. I can't let him keep doing this, he told himself bravely, trying to muster up some courage. Who knows what havoc Todd could eventually wreak with that gadget?

"Stop, Odd Todd."

Todd stopped mid-cackle and slowly turned to face him, those piercing blue eyes cold as ice. Oscar realized he was clutching the lapels of his lab coat and fidgeting, an old nervous habit of his. For some reason, he couldn't convince himself that he was only doing this to hide the magnet vest.

"Agent..." Todd cocked his head, "...Oscar?"

Oscar fought to get his fidgeting under control.

"What an odd choice, to send against me." He grinned wickedly. "I love it."

With considerable effort Oscar peeled his hands away from his lapels. "Just, um...hand over the Flip-Floppernator and...n-nobody g-gets hurt." He winced at how weak his words sounded, even to him. Come on, Oscar. Olive's got more of a reason to be scared of Todd, and she'd never act this scared.

Never taking his eyes off the scientist, Odd Todd strode out into the middle of the street and planted his multicolored feet on the pavement. "Don't make me laugh," he sneered, and proceeded to cackle again as he whipped up the gadget and fired.

Oscar squeezed his eyes shut. Be brave, Oscar. It can't hurt you.

At least, I hope it can't.

The zapping noise stopped. "Wh-what?" he heard Todd say, smacking his hand against the gadget.

Oscar opened his eyes.

"It won't work on me," Oscar explained, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I'm eleven."

Todd scrambled for a retort. "Th-then I'll f-flip something else, like...oh!" He fired the gadget again, nearly causing Oscar to jump back. "The size of your pants, so they'll become big and fall out, haha!"

Instinctively Oscar looked down, scared of what he might (or might not) find, but nothing about his pants had changed. Close one, too, he thought to himself. I should've remembered to check my clothing size or any other numbers before I came here. Not that he planned to let Todd know about his little slip. "My pants are size eleven, too. Roomy, but not overly so!" he added, with what he thought was a tough gangster's flourish. (He later demonstrated for Olive and all he got for her reaction was a facepalm—and not a pretend one.)

Odd Todd growled in frustration.

Emboldened, Oscar decided to take advantage of Todd's little unforeseen difficulty, and snagged the upper hand before the latter could think of anything else to flip-flop. "I also brought twenty-two tomatoes," he declared, whipping out the brown grocery bag he'd just gotten and reaching inside to grab the first thick, plump, juicy tomato. He set his jaw, squared his shoulders, and took aim.

The Flip-Floppernator fizzled, and the first glint of panic appeared in Todd's icy eyes.

This is what you get for thinking you can mess with Olive. For taking away her kid honor and replacing it with grownup shame.

THWAP!

"Aaugh!"

"It won't change."

For taking away her love of pies and replacing it with fear and loathing.

THWAP!

"D'Aaugh!"

"Whatever you do—"

For taking away her name and replacing it with only Scribbles.

THWAP!

"Aaraugh!"

"—there—"

Don't—

THWAP!

"—will—"

—you—

THWAP!

"—always—"

—dare—

THWAP!

"—be—"

—hurt—

THWAP!

"—twenty—"

—my—

THWAP!

"—two!"

—girl!

THHHWAPPP!!!

"Yaugh!" Todd was shielding himself and whimpering.

But Oscar wasn't done yet. "Same with this vest I made out of ninety-nine magnets," he said in a low tone, and there could be no mistaking the unpitying hardness in his voice. Ripping off his lab coat and casting it aside, Oscar straightened the magnetic vest he had expertly sewn together.

The glint of panic in Todd's eyes had morphed into full-on dread. "Oh no."

"Oh-hoh, yes."

And this...

Down went the switch.

...this is what you get...

With a zap and an electric whine, the magnetic (as all his gadgets were) Flip-Floppernator was tugged forward. Todd shrieked through his grit teeth and tried to hold on.

...for ever thinking...

Finally, there was a shiiing noise as the gadget freed itself and flew into the magnet vest.

...that you could degrade her, insult her, traumatize her...

The sudden release sent Todd flying backward and he hit the pavement. Hard.

...and take advantage of her...

Oscar pulled up the switch and took the gadget in hand. He then stepped forward until he towered tall over the pathetic, cowering Todd.

...without me hearing about it.

"Go home, Todd," he spat, about to pull the ultimate insult any Odd Squad agent could give another: "Tell your family you love 'em."

Odd Todd didn't hesitate. Stripped of his weapon and his dignity, he got up and took off running. Far, far away from tomato-splattered Oak Street.

Just try and mess with Olive again. Just try.

Because next time you do, you'll have me to answer to. And I won't be this nice again.

Oscar watched until he was out of sight.

Then all the courage left him, and he nearly collapsed. "Phew! So glad that's over," he gasped out, utterly relieved.

On second thought, please don't come back that soon.

* * * * *

Oscar wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen as soon as he reversed Olive's age back to normal. Meaning, he didn't know how she would react with Otto and Ms. O around, considering her in relationship to him.

The first thing she did after checking to make sure she was all completely back was to exclaim, "Yes!" in both an excited and relieved voice. Based on that, Oscar decided she was going to go with the impartial, generic reaction, so he too went generic and reacted like the others.

Next was Otto. "Glad to have you back, partner," he said with a broad grin, to which Olive put her hands on her hips, grinned back and replied, "It's good to be back." Yup, still generic.

Then she looked at him.

"Thank you, Oscar," she said, her voice neutral with just the corners of her mouth lifting up into a tiny smile.

Oscar gave her a brief nod and mirrored her smile. So, guess that's it, then. We're done, we're good, she's good, we can move on to—

The gleam in her eyes changed. Ah, to heck with it all, they seemed to say, in a reckless manner that was so unlike Olive. Almost before Oscar knew what was happening she rushed toward him.

Threw her arms around him.

And hugged him tightly.

Caught off guard, Oscar could only hug her too, patting her on the back to show he understood. She didn't want to go generic, after all, he thought happily. She wanted to go honest. And she doesn't care that they're watching. Not one bit.

* * * * *

When Olive broke away, she was pretty sure everyone could see her blushing.

But for the moment she didn't mind. Oscar, her Oscar, had beaten Odd Todd and saved her career. He'd deserved only the best thank-you she could give.

"Glad I could help!" Oscar said, in that awkward chipper voice she'd grown to love. He was blushing, too, but either no one noticed or they pretended not to.

"Agent Olive? Your badge."

Quickly readopting her professional air, Olive took her badge back from Ms. O's hand, clipped it back onto its rightful place, and breathed a contented sigh.

But her content was short-lived. "Now," Ms. O went on in a stern voice. "Oscar..."

Oh, no. She wouldn't. Olive folded her arms, her brow knitting in concern. Oscar deserves an award for his bravery, never mind how he lost the gadget!

Oscar looked just as worried. "Ms. O, I-I know what you're gonna say, and I promise, I-I-I'll never lose a gadget again!" he babbled.

"That's not what I was going to say. What I was going to say is..."

How is Otto so calm about all this? Olive wondered.

Oscar cringed.

"...you're awesome," she finished with a smile.

All at once the tension in the atmosphere dissipated. Otto clapped him on the shoulder, while Olive put her hands back on her hips and smiled at him. "Ah, hehe," Oscar managed to say, reassured that there was no imminent doom in store.

"Buuut..."

Olive's smile faded again. Don't tell me she's going to do it after all?

"...don't take my word for it."

Ms. O gestured behind her, and Olive suddenly noticed the flashing lights and rock band blaring the music "Oscar is Awesome!" over and over again. At one time, she might've scorned both Oscar and Ms. O for going over the top, but not anymore. Surprised and impressed, she shot Oscar a look. Now that's more like what he deserves.

Oscar looked like he was itching to go join the fun, so Ms. O beamed at him and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Go!" and off he went, whipping off his magnetic vest on the way. Exchanging glances, Olive and Otto didn't hesitate to dash after him and spend a few hard-earned moments just being kids.

Not a 21-year-old adult.

Just your average twelve-year-old kid.

* * * * *

XXXXX

* * * * *

"Hello? Oprah, is that you?"

"Yes. Yes, O'Donahue. It's me."

There was silence on the other end. Finally he said, "I...I think I know why you called."

"Yeah."

"Is it because—"

"I just wanted to say—"

"—I miss you."

They said it at the same time. She could feel herself blushing, and imagined him doing the same. "You missed me, too?"

"Oh, every day since I left you, all those years ago. It was...it was hours before I could stop myself from crying."

She thought back to that fateful afternoon, watching him coldly walk away, and her emotional breakdown that followed. Oh, partner. If only I'd known how you felt, too. "I didn't know you'd still cared that much. I thought you'd wanted to be done with Odd Squad—done with me—forever."

"If I had," came the choked reply, "don't you think I would've left my jacket and badge behind, there on the beach that day?"

For a while, neither of them said anything as they let that sink in. Yet they both knew there was a lot they were going to have to discuss. And not all of it could be over the phone.

"Um...what's your evening like?" she asked, reaching for a tissue.

He laughed softly. "I'm free tonight. Your place or mine?"

"Yours this time."

There was another pause, and a noise on the other end of the line that sounded like a sniffle. "K," he said, his voice quivering. "This is great, Oprah. Really great."

"I know it is." She smiled. "Y'know, rumor has it the seventh Star Wars movie is coming out this December. It would be just like old times if we went."

"Yeah. Just like old times."

They both knew it could never again be just like old times.

But that didn't mean they couldn't try.

"Alright, we can talk about this later. I'll see you after work tonight," she said. "Until then."

"Until then, Oprah."

She hung up with a click. The tears were falling freely again. But for the first time in too long, they were tears of joy.

The relapses never came back.

A/N One other note: due to me leaving on vacation today, this story might be on hiatus for a week or two. If you just can't wait, you can always go check it out on FanFiction.net! Also, this Sunday is the last day you can send in your Contest submissions!