A/N Once again, this chapter deviates quite a bit from the canon, so there's that. Also still keep in mind that I wrote this entire story before Season 2 came out, so yes there are some discrepancies there. Otherwise, hope I did a good job of keeping Oscar in character. Enjoy!

The next morning, against his better judgement, Oscar went to visit the Vancouver squad.

And, for the first time ever, rode the tubes.

"Incoming!"

As he popped out of his yellow ball and into the Tube Lobby, Oscar picked up his broken glasses and put them on as best he could. Next time I ride in the tubes, he thought ruefully, I need to hold on to these.

"Are you the new agent from Toronto?"

Oscar looked up. Sitting at the console in front of him was an agent wearing a huge fur hat. "Um, y-yeah?" he said with a wince, jaw hurting as he tried to talk. Man, that tube ride messed with my braces. He made a mental note to let the orthodontist know to loosen them at the next appointment.

"Oh, good. My name's Omakov. Your Ms. O called a little while ago and said you'd be here. Agent Odie's waiting for you in his lab."

"Oh. Um, okay, th-thanks." Oscar headed for the door and ran straight into a brick wall.

"Sorry, it's the other door!" Omakov called.

Eventually, Oscar found his way to the lab, where he saw a tall, older agent with a white lab coat and a blonde mullet cleaning a test tube. "Exc-cuse me," he said, clearing his throat nervously. "Are y-you Agent Odie?"

"That would be me." The scientist looked up. "Oh, you must be Oscar!" he said, setting down the test tube to shake his hand. "Welcome to Odd Squad."

"Thanks," Oscar said, smiling awkwardly. "So...I g-guess I'm supposed to ask w-what it's like running a lab?"

"Yes, you are. And I'm supposed to convince you that you shouldn't work as a Tube Operator, apparently," Odie replied, glancing at Oscar's uniform with no small amount of disgust.

"Oh, well—it's only f-for now. While I'm u-undecided."

Odie's expression was unreadable. "I see. Well, sit down," he offered gruffly, leading him to two swivel chairs in a corner of the room. "We can chat here."

As it turned out, Oscar ended up staying the entire work day to chat with Agent Odie. He learned lots of things about the Department of Science and what being a Lab Director was like. ("You don't wait for an odd case to invent a gadget. You invent the gadget first, and then wait for an odd case that'll need it.") As he hopped in the tubes to go home, Oscar decided that whether he went into Science or not, he would always see Odie as the best Lab Director in the world. Not to mention the one with the best hair. That mullet, though, he thought. May have to grow one for myself, heh.

Upon his return to the Toronto squad (which went a lot smoother this time), Oscar stepped out to find an Investigation agent arguing with the Tube Operator. "This is ridiculous, O'Brian!" the agent shouted angrily, jabbing a finger at the tubes. "How am I expected to get home if you're tube-blocking me?"

O'Brian shrugged. "You're the one who made me mad, Orbot," he replied flippantly.

Orbot stamped his foot. "That's it! I'm reporting this to Ms. O!" And with that, he stormed out of the Tube Lobby.

As Oscar drew nearer, O'Brian flashed him a wicked grin. "It's the last time he'll ever report to her," he said maliciously, pressing a few buttons on the console. "Nobody messes with the Tube Operators. Right, new guy?"

Oscar gulped and nodded. "R-right, heh," he agreed, mentally resolving both never to mess with O'Brian and to never become a bully while he was Tube Operator.

* * * * *

As fate would have it, his career as a Tube Operator turned out to be very short-lived. Oscar managed to hold the position for about three months (during which time he was indeed able to grow his hair out into a mullet) before it became clear that the console refused to cooperate with his touch. After creating pineapple after pineapple and ejecting himself through the ceiling one too many times, Ms. O decided he needed to try a different career.

Next, after copying Odie again and growing out his mullet, he went into Security. Agent Olmstead, still around after fifteen years of insisting on retiring, was naturally rather antsy for someone to take over. However, her initial excitement at gaining a potential qualifier faded as Oscar proved to be the most distracted Security agent she had. Though he stayed on the force for nearly a full year, it became very clear that he didn't even like the job after Olmstead made him feed worms to the escaped goldfish and caught him fixing gadgets on the job day after day. So she suggested that he switch departments again, especially after hearing the news that a new qualifying recruit named Owen was joining and had real potential to take over the job.

Lifeguard, Concession Salesman, Air Conditioner Repairman, and Segway Driver came next over the course of the following year, but those too fell flat. Plus, Ms. O had to step in when it became obvious that none of these were even remotely close to Head of Department jobs. So Oscar tried his hand at being a Cafeteria Worker, but Oksana didn't like the idea of anyone bossing her around in her own department, and she made sure he didn't last a day. "Agent Ocean altered my planned career enough," she remarked in her usual monotone as he traded in his Kitchen uniform. "Pray I don't have another joker alter it any further."

Oscar gave her a quizzical look. This wasn't the first time he'd heard that name mentioned. "Wh-who's Agent Ocean?"

Oksana merely glared at him and he fell silent. "None of your business," was all she said.

Eight months later, Oscar stopped by the Odd Squad Gift Shop to visit Opal. "Did you get fired from being a Greeter?" she asked casually as he walked in.

"Yeah," Oscar sighed. "Let in t-too many villains, and Olmstead and her new a-apprentice Owen had to herd them out. Ms. O said it w-wasn't even a real d-department, anyhow."

"Neither is this stupid gift shop," Opal grumbled, glancing around at all the paraphernalia. "I'm only working here because nursing doesn't pay the tuition for medical school by itself. I don't even like this uniform!"

Oscar eyed the apron and flowery shirt worn over her scrubs. "It is a l-little, um, excessive," he agreed.

"But back to you," Opal went on. "What's next?"

He shrugged. "I've t-tried nearly everything. Either I d-don't like the department, or I get f-fired for being terrible at my job. Nothing's w-worked. Only thing left is to b-be Ms. O's assistant, and that's n-not Head of Department at all."

Opal raised an eyebrow at him. "You're forgetting one."

"Yeah, yeah, Department of Science, I kn-know."

"Have you talked to any other Lab Directors in the past three years?"

Oscar scratched his head. "A little. I m-met Odelia in Tokyo, but sh-she kept scaring me with p-pranks. Not sure if I l-liked her or not. And I s-still visit Odie sometimes. But now that y-you mention it, I h-haven't been to Montréal yet to s-see Agent O'Quinncy."

"There you go," Opal said. "First thing tomorrow you can go visit him. Maybe he can tell you a few more things about being a Lab Director."

* * * * *

"...And so I was like, 'Aw no, man, the pleasure's all mine.' And he was like, 'You oughta stop by and visit me sometime, Super Fun Man. Y'know, for tea and whatever.' And I was like, 'Well, I don't really drink tea 'cuz hot liquids are bad for my braces, but I do like milk...'"

Gah, is he ever done? Oscar thought, half-asleep from hours of listening to that drawling voice. I could probably leave right now and he wouldn't even notice.

"But that's enough of that," Agent O'Quinncy finally finished. "You have braces too, I don't need to tell you stuff you already know. On to the real business of why you're here."

Oscar perked up. "T-to learn more about being a L-Lab Director."

"Exactly!" Reaching under the lab counter they were sitting at, O'Quinncy pulled out a gadget and tossed it to Oscar. "Here's a gadget I invented once. Tell me about this old thing. What kind of gadget is it, and how does it need to be fixed?"

It took less than a second for Oscar to answer. "Looks like a 3D-inator, for giving depth to flat objects. Its trigger is broken and keeps misfiring, which can be fixed by rewinding the springs, oiling all of the inside chambers with gooseberry jam, and banging it against a hard surface six times." Suddenly he stopped. "Did I s-say all that?"

O'Quinncy was grinning broadly. "Spoken like a true Scientist! Dunno why there was ever a question about it, if you ask me."

"Oh, well...p-personal reasons..." Oscar mumbled.

"Ah, okay," O'Quinncy said, nodding slowly (making it unclear whether he really understood or not). "Hmmm... Well, while you're making up your mind, I've got something that might help you out." Reaching inside his lab coat, he pulled out a boxed set of videocassettes and held them out. "You should borrow these. Bill might show you a side of Science different than what you already think of it. Not to mention all of his lab workers are kids trained by the Odd Squad Academy."

Oscar flipped through the videos. "Bill Nye the Science Guy?" he asked, looking back up at O'Quinncy with a befuddled look on his face.

"Hey," O'Quinncy said with a wink, "if Bill made science rule on PBS, maybe he'll do the same thing for you on Odd Squad."

* * * * *

Oscar stared at the empty armchair in front of him in horror. His horror quickly turned to dread as Ms. O, sprawled on the floor, turned her head upward to face him with an expression of utter disapproval. "I'm f-fired, aren't I?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, yeah." Ms. O hopped up and chaired herself in a huff. "Since you're so good at estimating, that makes how many jobs you quit or were fired from?"

"A-about sixty?"

"About sixty," Ms. O repeated. Opening a drawer in her desk, she pulled out Oscar's file folder. "Agent Peter is almost never wrong, you know," she went on, a hint of reluctance in her voice. "If he says you're qualified for Head of a Department, then you are, no matter how many jobs you've failed. However, I think it's fair to say that none of our Departments here suit you."

Oscar fought to keep his expression neutral. What's that supposed to mean?

"Except, perhaps, for one."

Oh. Of course. "Ms. O, I—"

"Which is why I have a job for you." Setting the file folder aside, she rolled out a large blueprint. "This is a map of Odd Squad Headquarters. Agent Olmstead has informed me that our booby trap system is out of date, and because she's retiring soon and her replacement Owen hasn't had any training yet, I need someone else to invent a new one. It needs to have at least three different varieties of traps, and we need them in these places—" she grabbed a purple marker and circled the Tube Lobby entrances, the two central hallways, and the main foyer. That done, Ms. O rolled up the blueprint and handed it to Oscar. "If you need any lab equipment, all the stuff left over from the old lab is stored in the back room behind the Gift Shop."

Oscar took it nervously. "B-but what if I fail this one, t-too? Or if I d-don't like the job?"

Ms. O smiled at him. "Agents Odie, Odelia, and O'Quinncy seem to think otherwise. I have faith in you. Besides, consider this a way to redeem yourself after letting in all the villains when you were a Greeter. After all, the alternative is always leaving Odd Squad."

"Say no more!" Quickly Oscar scrambled out of the office, leaving behind a chuckling Ms. O. At least, she was chuckling until she realized she had just given away her last copy of the Map of Headquarters.

Wonderful, she thought angrily to herself. Now I have to get a new one drafted. With only five months to the new millennium, surely someone will invent an easier way to hand out documents in the future. Maybe if all my agents had some sort of tablet that could receive electronic copies...

Eh. That'll never work.

* * * * *

On January 19th, 2000, Oscar (he guessed he was about five now) more than proved his worth for founding and directing the new generation of the Department of Science.

It took the better part of the night before that, but by 2:56 in the morning he had the entire booby trap system installed and tested. Agent O'Duffy happily came in early to set the disabling code, promising that his memory was sharp as a tack and he would never forget it. Oscar likewise promised himself to remember the patterns he set the traps on, just in case they went off by accident. White-black, pink-green-green, and down-up-right-left, he reminded himself. How hard can that be?

Scooping up all the frozen and stone objects he'd tested with, Oscar carried them to the back room behind the Gift Shop and dropped them off there. What he needed to know now was if there was a gadget that could turn the objects back to normal, or if he'd have to figure out how to invent one. Oh, if Dr. Forrester could see me now, he thought with a laugh as he started off in the direction of the Odd Squad Library. His own son, thinking like a true scientist.

Once in the darkened library, it didn't take long for Oscar to find the book he was looking for, Odd Squad: A History in Gadgetry (Toronto, ON, Canada). He flipped open to the first page to begin at the first entry, dated 1915—and went cold.

Staring back at him was the ugliest and most terrifying creature he had ever seen.

Curious, Oscar read the caption below. "The Hydraclops during its centennial rising from Lake Superior, as photographed by Agent Orscheln (Dept. of Science), 1915. Last major case to be solved without any use of modern gadgets." He quickly did the math. Centennial meant 100, which meant one hundred years after 1915 was...2015. "That's only fifteen years from now!" Oscar whispered to himself. "I gotta know more about this."

All prior intents and purposes forgotten, Oscar put the book back and frantically searched for the Encyclopedia of Odd Creatures and the Book of Prophecies. Sure enough, under the letter H in the encyclopedia was the same picture. He skimmed through the description and learned that the Hydraclops, at the time the photo was taken, was about 900 years old and would begin to bring his brothers and sisters up with him after his first millennial appearance. Below were two diagrams, one of a 2014 calendar with Friday, June 13 as the circled date, and the other of the anatomy of a Hydraclops. The second image had an arrow drawn to the nose, with a note written about having a "large nasal capacity" and a sensitive sense of smell. Meanwhile, in the prophecy book, Oscar flipped past prophecies about a destroyed Encryptor Chip and a tapestry with the words "I Am That Is" to the H section. He found that the monster typically appeared once every hundred years, but would make an exception if the year before the scheduled due date had only one Friday the 13th and it was during the summer months. Looking back at the hand-drawn calendar, Oscar realized all too well what that meant: The Hydraclops was due to rise on Friday, June 13th, 2014. And nobody remembered a thing about it.

Which meant it was up to him to stop it.

Yawning, Oscar sat at the closest library desk and started outlining a plan. If I ever become a scientist, he resolved, I need to invent a Coffeenator or something to keep me awake. Nevertheless the pieces had somehow clicked into place in his sleep-deprived five-year-old brain, and he knew exactly what to do. All I need now to save the world are three boxes, three pieces of paper, crayons, and a sock. After a moment he added mentally, And a Shmumbercrunch and my trusty Norman. He checked his watch, and the time read 3:29. Good, plenty of time.

By 6:31, in the frigid wee hours before dawn, a dirt-covered Oscar dropped his shovel. "It is done!" he declared to himself. All three maps were made, all three chests were buried, and the secret weapon was prepared. Satisfied, he hopped on his bicycle and rode home to drop off Norman, where he promptly fell asleep and didn't wake up for twenty-six hours.

Luckily, when Opal came to work later that morning, she found the note left for her by Oscar in the Gift Shop and promptly took it to Ms. O, who read through it and smiled. "Looks like we've found our scientist," she said.

* * * * *

The next six months were a busy time for both Opal and Oscar. The former had to study for her last round of finals for Medical School, and draw and color a fifty-page dissertation, all while balancing work as a nurse and closing down the Gift Shop in her spare time. The latter had to recruit a whole new team of scientists from both the Academy and the overstaffed departments at HQ, and remodel the old Gift Shop back into a proper laboratory again (and add his own flairs of interior designs, inspired by Bill Nye), all while juggling visits to the other squads for advice and help from other Lab Directors.

But finally, August 4th rolled around, and the two agents once again found themselves anxiously waiting in Ms. O's office. This time, instead of badges, they received partnership contracts to sign and new uniform capsules for Investigation, and were immediately assigned a case to solve. "Something about a talking dog and alphabet soup," was all Ms. O would tell them before she gave her trademark dismissal: "Well, what are you waiting for? GO!"

As the new partners dashed downstairs, Opal was the one to bring up the elephant in the room. "So how exactly are we supposed to solve a case?"

Oscar shrugged. "Somehow, heh!" he replied cheerily. For what did it matter? They were already over halfway to their dream careers.