"You could maybe call it a...trio?" ~Assistant Olympia

July 22, 2015. NIAOR. 6:05 PM.

Finally, all the stories had been told.

"It's six-oh-five," Olive commented with a chuckle as she checked her watch. "I don't see any dinosaurs around, do you?"

Otto's eyes widened. "Oh God, I hope not. One dinosaur breakout was enough for me."

Oscar and Dr. O looked back and forth between the two partners in bemusement. "What dinosaur breakout?" Dr. O asked.

"Um, never mind," Olive said, glancing nervously at Otto. Both of them were thinking the same thing: It would take too long to explain, and we've done enough storytelling for one day.

Dr. O nodded curtly. "Alright. In that case, I should go. I don't like leaving the Medical Bay for too long." Then she looked at Otto. "But before I go, do we still have a plan for this Saturday night?"

Olive and Oscar exchanged glances.

Otto noticed. "Okay, you two, I saw that! If you have to know, Opal and I are going out to see the Minions movie this weekend." He winked at the doctor. "I'm trying to get her introduced to some more...silly entertainment."

"Good luck with that, heh," Oscar coughed under his breath, and Olive giggled.

Dr. O watched them for a bit, then shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder how I get along with you three at all. Now WHAT'S next?!" With that she spun on her heel and marched away.

The trio in question watched her go. "I think our story embarrassed her more than she'll admit," Otto mused. "Your guys's teasing isn't helping, either."

"Says the one who makes all the jokes." At Otto's reaction, Olive laughed and held her hands up. "Okay, okay! Tell her the two of you can judge the two of us all you want. It's only fair."

"Although, how does that one saying go?" Oscar cut in. "Best friends don't judge each other, they judge other people together."

"Yeah, except judging each other is why we're friends in the first place. Imagine that." The three of them laughed at Otto's remark and the little hand rainbow he did.

"But seriously, guys," he went on a little later as they came to the foyer, just before they separated for the desks and the lab. "I, um...thanks for telling me your story. It means a lot to me that I get to know what you both went through, better late than never. And, I'm sorry for flipping out at first." And for feeling jealous, he added to himself.

Olive cracked a grin and put a hand on his shoulder. "S'okay, partner. I'm glad we got it all out in the open, too." She put her other hand on Oscar's shoulder and, still grinning, shook them both a little. "After all, I can't have any bad blood between my two favorite boys, now can I?"

The two boys regarded each other thoughtfully, and in that moment they came to a strange sort of understanding. For Olive, there had never been any question of sharing. She belonged to Otto just as much as she belonged to Oscar, and all the while both belonged to her. Any lingering jealousy that Otto might've had left dissipated. "No, you can't!" he answered, throwing a brotherly arm around Olive's shoulder.

Oscar copied him. "Funny, to think Olive said that being a flirt didn't suit me."

"Oh, shut up, you!" Olive retorted, but she couldn't stop the laughter as it bubbled out of her. And within moments the trio were laughing their hearts out, as all old friends should.

Yes, all the stories had been told.

But all was not yet said and done...

* * * * *

September 1, 2015. Post-NIAOR. 7:23 PM.

"I can't believe the fate of Odd Squad is gonna come down to luck!" Oscar burst out, shaking his head and propping it up on one fist in resignation. It was one thing when we only had my prediction to go on after Olive and Shapeshifter tied. But now I've got nothing to help her with. Nothing!

Meanwhile, Otto watched him, frustratedly chewing on his lip. There's got to be another way, he thought. Oscar and I didn't spend hours gathering footage, combing through it for predictions to help Olive, eating popsicle after popsicle, and accidentally hitting Orson in the face with an ice cream scoop while distracting Fladam for everything come to this. We can't lose the Odd Squad Tube Map now! There's gotta be some kind of prediction we can make. But how can we do that when Odd Todd's thrown everything an equal amount of times?

Except...after now, he hasn't…

That's it!

"Wait, it doesn't have to!" Otto exclaimed. "I have an idea." But there was no time to explain. As Todd's face and Wyatt Evil Referee's arm loomed on the monitor screen, Otto quickly grabbed his headset and ordered, "Olive, stall!"

Oscar shot him a look. Stall? How on earth is she going to—

"Ow! Ooh, hand cramp! Ow!"

The scientist blinked. "Huh. That'll work!" he muttered approvingly. "Now whatever your idea is, Otto, it better be a good one. The fate of Odd Squad and Olive's safety depends on—"

"I know, I know, no pressure or anything," Otto cut him off, trying his best to hide how nervous he really was as he picked up the whiteboard and marker.

Olive wasn't helping things. "Whatever it is, Otto, hurry!"

Otto took a deep breath. "See, Odd Todd throws rock, paper, and scissors an equal amount of times."

"Um, yeah, we know. That's why we can't make a prediction," Oscar said, a little chidingly.

"No, look! He just threw rock," Otto explained, marking a tally, "he threw paper," and another tally, "but...he hasn't thrown scissors yet."

There was a faint whistle-blowing sound, and the hum from Olive's ear mic went dead.

"That means eleven rock, eleven paper, but only ten scissors."

The fists of the two opponents took their positions. Only seconds were left.

A gleam in Oscar's eyes told Otto he'd caught on. "His throwing pattern is like Olive's. So that means he's gonna play scissors next to make them all equal again!"

Their fists raised out of the camera's sight...

"Olive, throw rock!"

...and only Olive's fist came back down again.

For Todd's had out two fingers.

The audible gasp from the other fourteen villains was loud enough even for the boys to hear through the camera mic. "Rock smashes scissors!" Olive cried, slamming her fist over Todd's fingers.

"KOOKY WINS THE MAP!" declared Evil Referee.

Excited and relieved beyond measure, Otto and Oscar sprang out of their seats and into a celebration dance, yelling and laughing happily at the tops of their lungs. "YEAH! WOO-HOO! WE WON! WE WON!"

A premature, ill-timed mistake that proved near fatal…

Out of the corner of their eyes, they both saw a sudden blur of color across the screen. Another collective gasp sounded, this time so loud that it could be heard from the earphones of the discarded headsets, lying on the table top.

The boys froze.

Odd Todd's looming face dropped its jaw, but those cold ice blue eyes smirked.

"Agent...Olive..."

Otto and Oscar could only stare at the monitor and gape at the horror of what they'd done. "Uh-oh," Oscar whispered.

Slowly they looked at each other. "We just blew her cover," Otto said in disbelief. Oh, the irony after reminding Olive over and over that she had to blend in... They had been so close to getting the map, and when Olive won that final match against Todd, it seemed all but certain. Yet one careless moment of celebration later, the girl that meant so much to them was now in serious danger. And it was all their fault.

It was Oscar who sprang into action first. "We have to get in there and save her! And this time, I have an idea." While Olive's voice tried to babble out an excuse, Otto watched as the scientist dashed to the door leading to the driver's cabin. "Orson! If you put the truck on reverse autopilot, would it be strong enough and fast enough to break through the warehouse wall?"

The baby agent gurgled a reply that Otto couldn't understand, but that Oscar obviously could. "Good! Perfect! Just get that set up and crawl back here with your banana split launcher when you're done!" He dashed back into the inventory and straight towards the main freezer. "Otto, grab the black harness and duct tape under the counter and strap them on. Get every ice cream cone you can find and hook them into your coveralls with the harness, but loose enough so you can pull the cones out. Then use the duct tape to strap Orson onto your back once he comes. We may need him for backup."

Throwing open the freezer door, Oscar hauled out two gigantic tubs of vanilla and chocolate ice cream and hooked them onto his belt, while Otto scrambled to do as he said. "You mean we're gonna bust in and bomb them with ice cream?"

"Oh, yeah." Oscar shoved two scoops into each of his tubs. "Those villains are about to get a sweet, nasty surprise..."

No sooner had they finished than the truck jerked forward, nearly throwing Otto and Oscar to the ground. As he held tightly on to the back door, Otto felt something crawl into the harness on his back. Good, Orson overheard Oscar's instructions. "Think we can pull it off?"

"We have to," came the grim reply. "Before the Tube Map, Olive's safety is still our number one priority."

As it always will be, Otto thought. For both of us.

The truck came to a stop.

And hurtled backward with all its might.

CRASH!!!

Let's do this!

Minutes later it was over. With every villain including Odd Todd lying on the ground covered in ice cream, Tube Map safe in her hands, Olive rejoined her two best friends. "Thanks, Orson," she said to the baby agent.

While Oscar slipped the pacifier badge into Orson's mouth, Otto realized something. "Kind of fitting to pay Todd back for the pienado with a creamy banana split, isn't it?"

Olive chuckled a little. "Yes. Now let's go home."

As they walked into the glare of the sunset, Olive leading with Oscar close behind her, Otto had to smile. At one point he might've felt jealous that Oscar was sticking so close to her since they'd made their grand brick-shattering entrance. But after all the adventures the three had shared together thus far, and after today working together with Oscar so they could both help Olive, Otto couldn't have felt any such thing if he'd wanted to.

* * * * *

"So, you're okay with the two of us together?"

"Yeah. Well, I am now, anyways."

"What happened to change your mind? I've tried calling you for weeks now and—"

"I know, I know, it was unfair of me. And more unfair that I stayed away to sulk for a year. But now, I can tell Oren really cares about you, and he's not jealous or anything. Plus, I do honestly think you two are good for each other. And...also..."

"What is it?"

"I mean...I think I found someone else...and I think she likes me..."

"Really?" Octavia squealed. "Who is she?"

"I'm not telling!" At the sad look Octavia gave him, Oz conceded. "Okay, I won't tell you yet. Not until I've talked to her more."

"And what if she says no?"

"Then that's why you're my best friend, isn't it?"

Octavia giggled. "It's good to have you back, Oz. Really good."

* * * * *

January 4, 2015. Pre-NIAOR. 4:09 PM.

"Two down, one two go!" Otto announced as Oscar plugged the pyramid in its place. "All we need now is the rectangular prism."

Before Oscar could even think about where they should go next (and preferably somewhere closer to home, not all the way), Odelia, beaming in that unflappable way she always did, piped up, "Agent Odie has one! I saw it in his lab yesterday!"

Agent ODIE?! Oscar felt his chest tighten. Fears about being accused of copying hairstyles and memories of that afternoon in his lab years ago—I would never judge him, but still...—pressed against the edges of his squirrel-like mind. "Ohhh no, nononononononono, anybody but Odie, nonono—"

"Oscar!"

Feeling a jerk on his shoulder, Oscar put down the warning finger he'd been shaking in Odelia's face and turned to meet Otto face-to-face. There could be no mistaking the anxiousness in the taller boy's eyes. "Please," he whispered. "For Olive."

For Olive, he repeated to himself. Of course. How could I forget? For those two words there were very few things he wouldn't do, even facing a colleague angrier than Ms. O. But as he looked at Otto, Oscar had to remind himself that Otto still didn't know about their secret yet. Not that it'll be hard to act reluctant, though, he had to admit. So it was with a sigh, eyeroll, and a surly "Okaaayyyy" that he agreed to head back by way of Vancouver.

Although, after Odelia decided to pull a well-charged hand buzzer on him and Otto thought it was funny, Oscar couldn't get out of Tokyo faster. It took several mental reminders that he had her love of hand buzzers and other pranks to thank for gadgets like the Talkinator before he could forget his upset shock and focus on the task at hand again. Not that Dr. O's quasi-legal tube phonecall didn't also help, naturally, but if anything it concerned Oscar even more to hear Opal of all people sounding worried.

And once they got to the Vancouver's squad's lab, it seemed like his fears would come true. "Oh, I have the rectangular prism," Odie answered Otto, never taking those flinty eyes off of Oscar, "but not for that pirate."

Right on cue, Olive swaggered in at that moment, obviously in the final stage of pirate-itis. "Arrrgh! Sorry I be late, guys!"

The coincidence fooled Otto. "You don't understand!" he protested, taken aback. "This pirate is my partner!"

Oscar was still silent. Oh, if only that was what he really meant. I could deal with that, but not this, he thought, gripping his lab coat lapels and bracing himself for impact.

"No, not her!" Odie growled, narrowing his eyes to slits of steel. "I'm talking about the pirate thief, Oscar! He stole all of my beautiful designs..."

Here it comes… Oscar gulped and began to fidget.

Again Otto jumped to the wrong conclusion. "You stole his gadget designs?" he asked incredulously, whirling on Oscar.

The fidgeting was getting more violent. "Oh no no no no—" he tried to smile.

"No!" Odie agreed. "No, worse than that..." And with that, he ripped off his navy Odd Squad issued ball cap, revealing the straight-styled, matching blonde haircut underneath. "...My hair designs!"

Oscar took a deep breath. The secret was out. The evidence of his cosmetic crime was on the easel, on the photos, on Odie's head for odd's sake. And the fidgeting wouldn't stop.

"Arrrgh! Oscar! How could ye?"

The hurt and betrayal hidden behind Olive's guttural pirate speech pushed Oscar into a stuttered explanation. "I-I admit it, I-I-I stole his hair designs!" he confessed with a sigh, looking down at the floor. "But—it's only because..." he forced himself to meet Odie's steely eyes again, "I only wanted to be more like you."

Odie blinked. "Really?" He set down the baseball cap, gazing at Oscar as if seeing him in a new light. "I thought it was because you didn't like me. After...um, y'know...that one day?"

After all you did for me in my early days at Odd Squad and ever since, you thought I could hate you? I know you're proud and hard on yourself, but no matter what decisions you make for yourself, I'll still always be your friend. "Just the opposite, my friend," Oscar said, a bit of emotion in his voice knowing they were reconciling at last. "Just the opposite."

"Oh, bring it in, you big lug!" And before Oscar could react, Odie had grabbed him in a tight, slightly awkward bear hug. And, apologetic by nature, followed it with slightly awkward blubbered, "I'm so sorry I doubted you!"

Um… "Okay, Odie, that's great but enou—"

The bear hug had turned into conspicously awkward pats on the back. "I promise I'll never do that again!"

Oscar tried to ease himself out. "Odie, really th-that's fine, I'm not—"

"It's the mathematical—"

"Guys!"

Enter Otto ex machina to thankfully push them apart before Odie got too carried away. Still a little shell-shocked, Oscar saw Olive mirroring his expression out of the corner of his eye. Yeah, I've got a few things to explain to you later on…

But not everything needed explaining, as it turned out. Later, once Olive had been turned back to normal and Odie got his new very own hairstyle, it didn't take too many overt hints from Olive and Otto ("Seriously, can you believe he thinks his new Justin Bieber hair is actually attractive?" "Yeah, that's so 2009. By now it really is a style of his own!") to convince Oscar that copying Odie's hair once again would probably be a bad idea…

* * * * *

"This was a great idea to come to the midnight release, Oren! I'm so glad we did."

"Not as good as your idea to make our own cosplays. You look every inch the Persephone."

"And you look every inch the Henry Skreever!" Octavia giggled. "Do you think in Knights of the Bouillabaisse, J.R. Ticklepenny will finally put the two of them together? I mean, I ship them so much, and there's so many little hints in the other books."

Oren threw an arm around her shoulders and winked. "She has to. Why do you think I picked this cosplay to match yours?"

"Um...because your glasses make you look like Henry?"

He sighed. "No, Octavia, it's because—"

"I know, I know. It's because we have to cosplay only as the perfect couple."

* * * * *

October 17, 2015. Post-NIAOR. 6:42 PM.

In spite of agreeing to grab a bite to eat while in the Tube Lobby, Olive and Otto had all but crashed at the Break Room table, utterly exhausted after their unexpected adventure in Sector 21. It was several minutes before either of them moved or spoke, each wrapped up in their own fatigue-warped thoughts.

And that's how Oscar found them. "Hey guys! Look who's back from Sector 21, heh! No spider-cat bites or fire toad burns, I see?"

Olive forced herself to perk up. "Hi, Oscar," she mumbled. "Do mud-covered coats count on your list?"

Chuckling, Oscar sat down with them. "Laser chickens, so yeah! It's okay, I understand. I know what you've been through, I was the first agent to get lost in Sector 21 a few years ago, back before we knew how dangerous it was. That's why we have Training Video #1624, heh!"

"Did you have to fight the vines?" Otto asked, sitting up.

Oscar's smile faded. "You were stuck there past sunset?"

You weren't? "It took us two whole hours to find our way back to the other tube entrance," Olive pointed out. "We only just got back."

"Gosh, no wonder you guys are so tired!" Oscar shook his head. "I'm so glad you made it at all, then. The chances of survival past sundown are 725...to one." He squinted. "Although, I've been known to make mistakes...from time to time..."

Olive caught her breath. Oscar was clearly in scientist mode right now, because after what she'd just heard, she was pretty sure that panic mode, though endearing, wouldn't have been all that helpful. But knowing that… Gosh, Otto and I were really lucky to escape when we did. Or else...I don't want to think about that.

She looked at Otto. And I meant what I said before, she told him in her head. Granted, Otto wasn't like Oscar at all. He was her best friend, her brother, and on days like today, her other half. After almost two years as partners, Olive couldn't imagine working together with anyone else. I did mean it. If I had to be lost in the woods with anyone, I'm sure glad it was with you, Otto. And even though I only said it when I thought we were goners, I still wouldn't trade one day for anything.

Otto would probably never know how much Olive cared about him, only because she saw him differently. She loved Oscar because...well, she hesitated to use the word romance, but there it was. Her love for Otto, on the other hand, was the platonic ideal…

Is it normal for people to analyze their relationships? she suddenly realized. Or am I just that tired?

The boys were still conversing, so Olive tuned in. "It's funny, I don't think I've ever seen them all in one place before," Otto said. "Kinda weird."

"They haven't either, actually," Oscar replied. "For some reason Ms. O never told any of them that there were multiple Tube Operators, so they all had quite a shock today."

Speaking of Tube Operators… Olive grinned as she recalled something from earlier. "Shock or no, they seem fine with it now. Some of them more than fine, I think."

They looked at her. "What are you saying, Olive?" Oscar asked, confused.

"Well...Otto, did you see the way O'Donnell and O'Callaghan were eyeing each other?"

Otto's eyes widened. "You mean…?"

"I suppose it is their first time meeting," Oscar chimed in, mirroring Olive's grin. "I'd give them about two weeks."

"A round of drinks at Club 24 says two days," Olive wagered.

"Are you kidding? Knowing O'Donnell, I wouldn't bet more than two hours," Otto said.

"Hey, guys! How are my favorite agents doing?"

The three of them whirled around.

Strolling past the Break Room were none other than the two redheads themselves, linked arm in arm. "Y'all doing alright?" O'Donnell asked again, smiling as always.

They stared. "Um...great! Thanks for all your help!" Olive managed.

"Yeah, thank you so much!" Otto added quickly.

"Anytime! Have a good evening, you three!" O'Callaghan called, and the two of them walked around the corner.

The trio looked at one another. "Two minutes," they all said in unison.

"So who's gonna foot the bill now?" Otto asked.

Olive shrugged. "Eh, we can come up with a new bet on the way. Whoever loses that one can cover drinks and stuff." She checked her watch. "It's nearly seven o'clock and work's about done with. So why don't we head out now?"

"You sure you two are up for it?" Oscar asked in concern as they all stood up. "I thought you guys were too tired."

"Never too tired for Club 24 with my friends!" Olive replied with a wink. "Now allons-y!"

She got two blank looks.

Oops. Am I really that tired? "Sorry, that's French. Er, let's go!"

* * * * *

"Ori! Thank odd you're okay!"

"Hey, hey, it's alright, I'm back. No harm done, see?"

"You were stuck as a wrought-iron gate for three days, Ori! If Otto hadn't caught Mariana Mag and gotten that gadget of hers back—"

"Wait, wait, since when did you start defending Otto? I thought the two of you had 'unfinished history'."

"Shut up, Ori."

"And since when did you actually care about other people like this?"

"Shut up, Ori!"

"And since when were you a hugger?"

Orchid didn't respond to that.

Ori giggled a little. "It's okay, Orchid. I can hug you back."

That's not what I wanted, Ori.

I mean it, that's not what I want!

...Ah, screw it.

* * * * *

February 12, 2015. Pre-NIAOR. 10:04 AM.

"Thirty-seven," Olive murmured to herself as she punched the number from Dr. O into the first slot in the briefcase. And with a ding and a chirp, the little light above the slot blinked green. "Yes!" she said, pumping a fist in the air and placing her hands on her hips proudly, turning around to—

"Oh!"

Jaw dropped, Olive watched in horror as Otto dragged a white couch with dark green trimming back into the lab...completely covered in yellow grease stains and with stuffing poking out of a large gaping hole. Otto? What did you do? "Wha...what happened to Oscar?"

Otto grunted with effort. "Owen happened," was all he said.

Olive wrinkled her nose. How did he—oh, no...what does this mean for Oscar when we get him turned back…? Shaking her head, she decided it would be best to focus on their task at hand instead. "Well, good news is, I got one number. Just two more left to open the briefcase."

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!"

Stopping mid-run, Olive turned back to meet Otto's less-than-approving face. What do you mean, "whoa whoa whoa"?

"This time," he told her, "I'm going to get the numbers, and you're staying here to guard the couch." He made a face. "Trust me, it's...it's way harder than it looks." And with that, Otto strode out.

You couldn't explain a little better? "What do you mean, 'way harder'?" Olive called after him, but by then he was gone. Shrugging, Olive turned back around and—

Her heart stopped.

"Oh no," she gasped.

Too late, her mind put the pieces together. Gah-lee, people around here will take anything if it's not nailed down! "Oscar?" she called belatedly, looking around. Could he even hear her in couch form? "Couch?" she tried again, desperately.

No use. Oh dear, who's got him now? Olive couldn't help wondering as she dashed out of the lab to go searching. And what are they going to do to him? Sure, it was some comfort to remember how calmly Oscar had acted when he'd zapped himself with the gadget in the first place—even more calmly than Olive herself had when she found out what it did—having somehow managed to slip into his unfazed Training Video mode. And she hoped, if he was indeed self-aware right now, that he was likewise taking the mistreatment without panicking. But she still didn't like it. It felt like breaking a promise of protection by not guarding him as a couch.

At least it was another comfort to know that later, her failure to keep an eye on him would help spare Oscar further punishment from Ms. O.

* * * * *

"Why don't you close your eyes?"

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"Close your eyes."

"But why? I can't see you either way."

"I know. And that's the only thing you can focus on when your eyes are open." There was a pause. "But...if your eyes are closed, it doesn't matter. You'd never know that I was invisible."

No reply.

"Just try it. Close your eyes."

"..."

"Close your eyes, Polly."

"Okay."

Polly closed her eyes.

Oz was right. As his arms enfolded her in his embrace, she could feel the thick fabric of his suit jacket, the warm skin of his fingers, the fuzzy prickle of his hair on her cheek, his shallow breath and rapid heart beat. Everything she couldn't see but could still feel that made him who he was.

And with her eyes closed, she'd never have known the difference.

* * * * *

November 27, 2015. Post-NIAOR. 3:51 PM.

"Your Honor? I'd like to call upon our next witness...Agent Oscar!"

All eyes in the court turned to the scientist, who along with several other agents was watching the proceedings from the gallery, set up in front of the ball room and break room. Suddenly aware that everyone was staring at him, Oscar gulped and stood up. He had seen Olive during her lunch break at 1:45. The question was, how well could he back her and Otto up?

This is my chance, he thought. If I do this right, I could clear Olive's name right now.

Briskly he made his way up into the witness stand and took a seat. Higher up and in front now where everyone could see him, Oscar felt his stomach churning nervously, and he began to fidget. Her career could hinge on what I say, he thought, trying to disguise his fidgeting by checking to make sure he wasn't sitting on his lab coat. If I get even one thing wrong...

Glancing up, Oscar saw Otto coming toward him, and immediately straightened up. Well, at least Otto's questioning me first. He's been a really good lawyer so far today, I'm impressed. So it was with a surge of confidence that he gave his name as: "Daniel Berryman, heh!"

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.

Slowly Otto turned around to stare at him. "What?"

Did I do something wrong? Already? Leaning forward, Oscar whispered, "Didn't you say, 'state your favorite name'?"

Out of the corners of his eye, he was pretty sure he saw Dr. O gape, Olive sigh, Odd Todd roll his eyes, and Ms. O facepalm.

"Um, no," Otto whispered back, pointing a finger at him. "I said state your name."

"Ohh! Er, Oscar. I'm Oscar!" he announced, feeling an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. Goodness, I sure can't let the rest of the day go like this.

Thankfully, Otto wasted no time steering everyone right back on course. "Alright, Oscar. Can you tell us where you were at one forty-five this afternoon?"

Okay, here we go. Get this right, for Olive's sake. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Oscar winked at her and easily answered, "Olive and I ate lunch at one forty-five!"

Olive smiled and nodded back. It had been one of those rare days where their lunch breaks coincided with each other's, and they had taken full advantage of the fact. And thankfully, Otto already knew about their relationship, so Oscar didn't have to worry about having anything to hide there. So far, his witness examination was going beautifully.

"The point Oscar's trying to make," Otto went on to the babies of the jury after taking a look at the pizza stains on Oscar's clothes (which had made Olive laugh at the time), "is that Olive was busy eating lunch. So, she couldn't have stolen the town museum." His part of the questioning done, Otto headed back to his seat in satisfaction. "Case," he finished to Odd Todd, "closed. Again."

But Todd slammed his hands on the tabletop and stood up. "NOT so fast..."

Oscar thought he felt a fist clench his heart. Uh-oh.

In the blink of an eye he was there, suddenly invading Oscar's personal space and forcing the scientist backward in his chair. "Oscar! Buddy!" he smiled coyly, getting straight to the cross-examination. "Where did you and Olive have lunch?"

What is he trying to get at here? Oscar thought, peering down at him through his glasses. Looking at Olive he warily answered, "Uhh, at Debbie's Pizzeria."

Olive drew a sharp breath and glanced back and forth rapidly between him and Otto. Did she know where Todd was going with this? Oh no, what did I give away?

Turning around, Todd went back to his counsel table and clicked open the locks on his briefcase. "I would like to submit into evidence—" he held up a laminated sheet encased inside a protective plastic sleeve "—this menu from Delivery Debbie's Pizza Place."

"It's 'Pizzeria'," Oscar corrected under his breath without thinking, confused. How did Todd know we were there? He wouldn't've brought the menu unless…

Distracted, Oscar took Todd's direction of reading the bottom line a little too literally. "Printed in China."

"Uh, no, not that. Little bit higher," Todd murmured, indicating with his multicolored elbow.

Of course. But in looking at the actual bottom line of the menu, Oscar became even more perplexed. What does this have to do with him knowing where Olive and I were for lunch? "Don't forget to tip your server?" he read.

Instantly he felt the menu snatched out of his hand and thrust back in his face, with a pale finger jabbing at a single line of text. "No, that. Read that!"

Oscar squinted at the text, squarely in the middle of the menu in big bold print. "Pizza delivered to your table in—"

He wouldn't've brought the menu unless…

"—in one minute or less."

...unless he knew somehow exactly what we had ordered. Oscar gripped the edge of the witness stand banister, a sinking feeling inside him as he watched Olive slowly close her eyes and exhale. Oh, dear…

"One minute or less," Odd Todd repeated, stepping over to his clock model to move the minute hand. "So that means the pizza must have come at one forty-six."

Wait a minute.. Oscar saw his chance. Maybe Todd didn't actually know. After all, one minute was hardly enough to account for eating an entire pizza. "Well, yeah sure, but we still had to eat it!"

Olive's eyes shot open, and she nodded her approval.

But Todd wasn't done yet. "Right. And that must've taken a while!" He started to walk back over, clearly feigning inquisitive nonchalance. "And...what did you order, exactly?"

Oscar's knuckles had turned white from gripping the banister so hard. Growing more and more nervous, he forced himself to let go, but now the released tension was making him fidget. "The...uh...er, the...the..." Oscar tried to casually put a hand to his mouth and muttered something unintelligible.

"I'm sorry," Todd said with a sickly smile, "I don't think our stenographer can hear you." He leaned a hand on Agent Olla's desk to emphasize his point, and she deliberately looked away.

Odd Todd was right, of course. Oscar had sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and he had just been asked a question. A sinking feeling settled in his gut. So much for getting it right. Shooting Olive an apologetic look, Oscar reluctantly answered, "Olive was in a rush, so...we had bite-sized pizzas."

"Oh! Really? You mean..." Making it back to the witness stand, Todd thrust a white paper plate with a tiny pepperoni pizza on it under his nose. "...like this one?"

Oscar blinked and moved back a little. What have I done? "Um...y-y-yes?"

"Then if it would please the babies," Todd declared, setting the plate down on the banister, "I would like to see how long it takes you to eat that bite-sized pizza."

Todd was good. Oscar had to give him that as he eyed the incriminating pizza with fear and revulsion. If I speak, she is condemned. But if I stay silent, I am—

"IF IT WOULD PLEASE THE BABIES, OSCAR!"

It was then that Oscar realized just how great the scope of Odd Todd's plan was. Obviously he had somehow framed Olive for a crime she didn't commit, but hidden underneath the obvious in plain sight was the reason why. Since his return, Todd's strikes had been few and far between, but all had been completely different from one another, and all had in some way targeted Olive. First he'd tried simply frightening her with his return at the museum, but that obviously hadn't worked. That fall he'd tried to indirectly put her out of work by releasing the ballcano, but they just set the weight right again. Then that winter he'd tried to get at her by turning everyone else she knew and loved (including Oscar himself) permanently invisible, but she tricked him into getting the gadget back. When pretending to be a good guy by twisting the truth with his bad lemonade didn't work, Todd resorted to attacking her outright with the Flip-Floppernator. He hadn't counted on Oscar fighting back.

But now, here was Todd fairly using the law, politics, and diplomacy to get rid of her. Worse, he'd taken his revenge on Oscar and backed him into a corner the scientist couldn't get out of if he tried. Which left him with no choice.

Slowly, Oscar picked up the tiny pizza. "I'm so, so sorry, Olive," he said sadly. And I'm sorry, Otto, for letting all your hard work in defending her go to waste.

Otto didn't react, staring stoically ahead at Odd Todd, probably planning his next move as the defendant's lawyer. But Olive closed her eyes again and nodded, almost as if she were giving him her permission. "It's okay, Oscar. Tell them the truth."

Mere seconds later, the bite-sized pizza was gone.

The cross-examination done, Oscar's memory of what came after was blurred. He vaguely remembered Todd doing something with the clock, then being dismissed from the witness stand, and somewhere in between there was an oddly clear memory of Ms. O scratching her hair underneath the wig. But as he stumbled back into the gallery and took his seat next to Dr. O, all he could think about was letting Olive down.

I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry, Olive...I'm sorry I'm sorry forgive me I'm sorry sorry sorry...

Dr. O noticed. "Hey," she whispered, putting a rough but well-meaning hand on his arm. "Don't be upset, you tried your best. Otto's smart, he'll prove Olive has an alibi."

"Yeah..." Oscar took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, but said nothing more.

At least Todd didn't ask me why Olive said she was in a rush. She'd never forgive me if I gave away her secret about Soundcheck.

* * * * *

Curious, Obfusco reached under the little Christmas tree on the corner of his desk and pulled out a small parcel wrapped in burlap sackcloth and twine. He carefully pulled on one of the strands of twine and the cloth fell away.

It was a potato.

But that wasn't all. Painstakingly carved on the bottom was a scrawled message: "Olaf says Merry Christmas!" with a little heart next to it.

Obfusco smiled, blushing a little. "Obfusco says Merry Christmas to you, too."

* * * * *

August 4, 2015. Post-NIAOR. 2:13 PM.

A day of anniversary for so many.

Also the day almost everyone on the squad caught the Jinx.

And the day Olive and Otto decided it would be funny to torture their significant others.

Initially they felt sorry for Oscar and Dr. O being forced back out into the field again, after nearly fifteen years of not working together as partners (and doing poorly when they had worked together). Olive even took advantage of having the Jinx to send a few words of encouragement his way: "I know you're scared after everything that happened before, but I wouldn't send you out into the field if I didn't believe in you with all my heart."

But when the two former partners came back with the Jinx Cube to cure everyone and each expressed an interest in solving another case for fun, Ms. O immediately consulted Olive and Otto. "Alright, you two," she said, pulling out a tablet. "Here's a list of all the odd cases that were phoned in today. Since you both know Oscar and Dr. O very well—" she winked "—I'll let you decide what case you think they can handle."

Olive took the tablet, and she and Otto scrolled through the list. There were mundane odd cases, like a complaint about the discovery of a potentially poisonous green potato chip in a snack bag; marginally odd but definitely weird cases, like a compulsive obsession with some psychedelic '70s-style kid's TV show called The Love Ducks that only kids could see ("Um, don't pick that one," Ms. O quickly said); cases that weren't really odd at all and shouldn't have been called in in the first place, like a wedding ring that somehow rolled inside a church organ…

And then Otto spotted the Laser Chickens.

They looked at each other. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Otto asked, raising an eyebrow.

Olive scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, partner! That's the meanest thing we could do to two inexperienced agents, let alone our S.O.'s!" Then she grinned mischievously. "Of course I'm thinking what you're thinking."

Two hours later, Oscar and Dr. O arrived back in headquarters panting and completely worn out, their lab coats covered in feathers and scorch marks. Angrily the doctor marched right up to Otto and declared, "I'm a doctor, not a Laser Chicken expert like your partner!" while Oscar could only gape at Olive with a helpless sort of understood why. But Olive and Otto were too busy laughing their heads off to reply.

* * * * *

"I don't get it. How can you not think Luke is her father?"

"Ah, but you forget you never watched the Clone Wars series, Oprah. There's a duchess in a few of the episodes who says she's in love with Obi-Wan. Maybe they secretly had a child during the war and—"

"But Rey's only, like, twenty!"

"Well, right, Obi-Wan would have to be her grandfather. I was going to say that maybe their secret child had another child, and that's who Rey is. Besides, didn't you hear the voice that spoke to her when she took the lightsaber? It was both Sir Alec Guinness and Ewan McGregor, the guys who each played Obi-Wan. Admit it, there's no way it's a coincidence!"

"Not so fast. Why do you think Leia sent Rey to find Luke instead of going herself? The only reason Leia wouldn't have gone is if she knew there was someone who could make a bigger impact on him. And who would be more perfect than his daughter?"

"Come on, how would Leia know that? And Rey doesn't have to be his daughter to make an impact. Kylo Ren said he recognized her, so maybe she was a Jedi Academy student who escaped. Plus, wouldn't it be totally sick if she and Kylo were recreating the lightsaber battle their grandfathers had in the very first movie?"

"It would be even more sick if Rey and Kylo were cousins who represent the conflicting light and dark sides of Anakin Skywalker. Because that would mean it falls to them to bring balance to the Force."

O'Donahue opened his mouth, then stopped, realizing he had absolutely no answer to that. Triumphant, Oprah held out her arm and mimed dropping a mic. The two of them laughed.

"Well, guess this means we just gotta go see the next movie when it comes out, right?"

"The release date isn't for, like, another two years. It's supposed to be Christmas of 2017 before it comes out."

"Then we'll just have to stay together for another two years, huh, baby doll?"

"Only two years?" Oprah snuggled closer to him as they stood outside the movie theater, watching their breath make clouds in the chilly December night air. "You forget, I'm gonna need your help in about four years getting Carol's 130th birthday present. She wanted a 'wonderrific Little Red Riding Hood autograph', and I'm clueless about how to go about making that happen. Why couldn't she have just asked for an autograph from Bootsy the Cat or someone like that?"

"Soooo...this means we'll stay together for four more years?"

Oprah reached up and swatted his cheek with one purple mittened hand. "After 150? Oh, please. I'll want you around much longer than that."

O'Donahue laughed and hugged her tighter, nearly burying her in his puffy coat. "Me too, baby doll. Me, too."

* * * * *

December 10, 2015. Pre-OINFO. 6:00 PM.

(fanart courtesy of darkspectrum )

It had been Oscar's idea to go bowling.

Celebrating birthdays sure was strange when you only aged once every handful of years. Olive didn't feel all that much older—and a good thing, too, because next year for sure she'd be thirteen and too old for Odd Squad unless she switched over to a non-aging plan—and hadn't wanted a huge party or anything. Sure, Otto and Octavia joined forces and convinced Oksana to make a cake to serve in the cafeteria, and several agents she knew and worked with stopped by her desk throughout the day to wish her happy birthday and give the occasional card. And yeah, naturally she left work a little early to go home and quietly celebrate with her family. But other than that, Olive wasn't like her outgoing partner—a huge party with tons of people and presents just wasn't her scene.

Still, since the day of the near-Timetastrophe, Oscar insisted the three of them "oughta at least go bowling or something!" and Olive admitted the idea was too cute to turn down. It would have been four, too, but as it turned out Ms. O had a prior engagement with one former Agent O'Donahue, and everyone agreed not to even try and interrupt that. Although it sure was nice of Ms. O to cover the cost of three 12 & Under passes for three hours at the bowling alley.

The trio had a blast, of course. Olive won the most games, but Otto managed the highest score in a single round after somehow pulling off a turkey with three strikes in a row. (Oscar, meanwhile, got the most consecutive gutterballs with fifty-three. "YEAH! Almost got 'em that time! Your days are numbered, pins!" to which Olive was forced to facepalm.)

But the best part was yet to come…

"For the record," Olive claimed as the boys covered her eyes and began leading her somewhere after finishing the last match, "I know perfectly well that you guys are taking me to the back room of the bowling alley!"

"Oh, really?" Oscar asked, nonplussed. "What makes you say that?"

"Duh, because it's where all their parties are held."

Otto smoothly jumped in with, "Then how do you explain...this?" And with that, he and Oscar took their hands off Olive's eyes to reveal…

"Ha! Joke's on you, Olive, because it is the bowling alley's party room!"

Olive rolled her eyes. Oscar laughed.

"But seriously," Otto went on, "did you expect us to decorate it like...this?"

And with that, he threw open the doors.

Her jaw dropped. Oh, wow… No. No, I didn't.

Instead of the Burly Bears paraphernalia she'd imagined, Olive found herself looking at polaroids. Tons, and tons, and tons of polaroids. Strands of them strung around the walls. Spherical paper lanterns covered in them hanging from the ceiling. Taped underneath the warm, flickering lights of makeshift candle sconces. A group of them arranged to spell out her name on the center table where the sweets buffet was arranged. As she took a step closer for a better look, Olive realized that all of the polaroids were pictures of her with the boys—cases she and Otto had solved, cases she and Oscar had solved before then, cases the three of them had worked on together, and candid shots of special moments they'd shared outside of work. Even the small vanilla cake in the center of the buffet was emblazoned with an edible photo of none other than the infamous selfie Oscar took of the trio after the boiler room incident.

"Wow..." she breathed, floored. "You guys...this place is...amazing. You really shouldn't have. It's only a birthday party."

"But it's your birthday party, heh!" Oscar countered, poking her on the nose.

While Olive giggled, Otto darted over to a side table and came back with a sealed dark blue envelope addressed to her. "Now, before we get to the cake," he explained, all but shoving it under her nose, "you gotta read this first."

Taking the envelope, Olive slid her finger under and lifted up the flap, pulling out a green card with red sparkly designs on it.

"It's f-from both of us," Oscar said. "We made it ourselves."

"It looks beautiful." Olive smiled at them and opened the card. She read aloud:

"Like berries, friends often come in bunches
Some are large, some are small
If you find you cannot use your hunches
Find the one that stands for all."

"Thanks for being our 'one' and our best friend! Have a wonderful birthday.

With love from Otto and Oscar."

Olive put a hand to her mouth and gasped. "Aww, guys you shouldn't have! This is so sweet!" She folded the card shut and looked up. "Math-based poem about friendship...did you happen to borrow this from those three kids who solve problems in that parallel universe?"

Otto looked at Oscar. "Are they those three honorary agents you told me about?"

"Matthew, Jacqueline, and Inés? Yeah, if only they were around in this universe more often. Although it's kinda hard to make their names start with O." Oscar cleared his throat nervously. "Um, anyways, yes! We, er, kinda borrowed that one, heh..."

"It's alright, I love this. Thank you both so much." Setting down the card, Olive took a single step forward and gave them both a single hug. Otto, her partner and practically her brother, and Oscar...so much more. "What would I ever do without you two?"

"Um, absolutely nothing?" Oscar offered.

"He's right, your life is too boring without us," Otto chimed in, striking a ridiculous pose.

Olive burst out a guffaw. Oscar soon followed, then finally Otto, and before long all three of them were too busy laughing, as all old friends should.

It was one of the last special moments for the trio to ever share together.

* * * * *

Three weeks later, Ms. O got the phonecall.