DISCLAIMER: I don't own this fanfic, I am republishing it with permission.

3:15—Two hours and forty-five minutes before the dance

After fumbling with the gadget for a minute, Oona fired the dressing-room-inator three times, making three little tents appear.

Olympia looked at her with an eyebrow raised. "Um, Oona, don't you need to fire that one more time?"

"Psh, no, I don't need one. Watch this."

Ms. O, Olympia, and Otis watched her—a bit apprehensively—as she tugged at her lab coat lapels. With a poof, her uniform transformed into an authentic 1950s dress.

"Whoa!" Olympia exclaimed.

"Cool right? I just added that feature. I haven't had to change my clothes in months!"

Ms. O, Otis, and Olympia looked at each other and backed slowly into their dressing rooms.

"What? I didn't say I haven't changed my clothes in months, I said I haven't had to! Guys? Hey, guys? I still need someone to help me with my hair once you're done..."

* * * * *

"Put two drops of sunscreen in this after 6:30. Only use the special golden dropper, though," Oscar instructed anxiously.

"Yes, sir."

"Keep an eye on Octavian. He likes to think he's an emperor or something."

Oswald made a note on her clipboard. "Yes, sir."

"Oh! And don't let Osborn break anything. Or spill anything. Or—"

"I understand, sir."

"Right, good. Um, lessee... If the pickle fuse is blown, the emergency grapefruit is under my desk..."

* * * * *

Two agents, one a dark-skinned curly-haired boy of about nine, the other an eager girl of eight with brown hair and gray eyes, sat in front of Olive and Otto.

"Great work, agents," Olive said, bringing up a picture of a villain being lead away from a group of toothpaste-covered ping-pong tables.

"Thanks to you, the Ping-Pong Paster's reign of minty fresh terror has been stopped," Otto told them proudly.

Olive leaned over. "Otto, that's not his name."

"It's not?"

"Nope."

"Then what is his name?"

Olive flipped through the case file. "Fred Who Really Hates Ping-Pong."

Otto looked at her incredulously. "Fred Who Really Hates Ping-Pong? What kind of a villain name is that?"

"Hey, cut him some slack, he's new here. Anyways," she said, turning back to the agents, "we've got our best scientists working on a gadget to help stop him in the future. Good job!"

"Thank you, Mr. and Ms. O!" the pair said in unison.

"Now, what are you waiting for? Get back to work!" Olive yelled, but with a smile. The agents smiled back and bounced out of the room.

Otto looked at a clipboard. "Three more sets of agents are still out."

"They've got time. Come on, we've got more paperwork to do."

* * * * *

5:00—One hour before the dance

Ms. O tied a red-and-white polka-dotted scarf over her hair as Olympia put one last curl in Oona's and began the process of pinning it into a 50s hairdo. Meanwhile, Otis sat on the couch bewildered and wondered how on earth girls could take so long to get ready.

"Guys, in case you weren't aware, it's five o'clock," Otis warned impatiently.

"Relax, Otis, we'll be done in a minute," Olympia replied as she coated some bobby pins with hairspray.

"That's one hour to go, shouldn't we be at the club setting up or something?"

"Otis! Don't worry, you guys will have plenty of time before Olive, Otto, Oscar, and I get to the club," Ms. O reassured him.

"If it makes you feel better," Oona said, holding out a clipboard, "you could check over the plans."

He took the board and began to read. "5:30, Oona drives Oly—wait a minute, you can drive?!?"

Oona scoffed. "Well, yeah, how else would I have gotten to Lab Con?"

"I just assumed you took the tubes."

"The tubes were down for maintenance con-side. Now that I think about it, that was probably Obbs' doing so that it would be harder for—"

"Oona, that's a different episode, let's focus on this story," Olympia interrupted

"Right. Anyways, I taught myself how on the drive over."

Otis leaned over and whispered to Olympia. "We're really going to put our lives in her hands?"

Olympia raised an eyebrow at him.

"Okay, 5:30—Oona drives Olympia and me to the club. Olympia sets up hidden mics around the club while Oona sets up cameras in addition to the ones you'll be wearing and taps in to the club's security system. I'll set up the monitors in the surveillance truck. 5:45—Olympia, Oona, and I do final audio and video tests. 5:50—I serve ice cream." He looked up. "I serve ice cream?"

"An ice cream truck that doesn't serve ice cream would be a little suspicious, don't you think?" Ms. O explained.

"That's true. Okay, 5:55—We all take a moment to appreciate the fact that there are three 5s in a row."

Olympia smiled into the distance. "Mmm, my third favorite time of the day."

Oona nodded. "Mine too. It's dinnertime, the lighting is perfect for photography this time of year..."

"6:00 to 6:05—Oscar and Ms. O arrive at the Club 24, probably using the front south tube entrance, while Olive and Otto arrive using the side entrance. 6:05 to TBD—Oona and Olympia watch the pairs from hidden locations and signal to Ms. O and Otto when the time is right. I watch on the monitors for ways they can disappear without being suspicious. After Ms. O and Otto disappear, Olympia and Oona find subtle ways to nudge Olive and Oscar together. In case of emergency, I'm ready to come inside and help. Olive and Oscar see each other, get back together, and live happily ever after."

"The happily ever after part was my idea," Olympia grinned. "Of course, if they don't get back together, we could always get Olive and Ot—ow! Okay okay, I get the point, Oona."

Otis shook his head in wonder. "This might actually work."

"There. One completely camouflaged scientist," Olympia declared, placing the last bobby pin in Oona's hair.

Oona handed her a pair of cateye glasses. "And one completely camouflaged field agent. Well, heh, two counting Otis if we need to bring him inside."

"Well done, with a crowd you'll blend in just fine," Ms. O said proudly. "Now, what are you waiting for?"

"Um," Otis looked at his watch. "5:30, apparently."

The girls nodded.

"Oh. Well, in that case, I guess we could get our earpieces set up?"

The four went silent.

"Or we could play hopscotch," Otis suggested.

Ms. O shrugged. "Works for me!"

* * * * *

5:30—Half an hour until the dance

At precisely 5:30pm Olive and Otto handed off their paperwork to a pair of assistants for filing.

Olive looked at her partner. "We should probably get dressed now, are you ready?"

"Are you kidding me?" Otto scoffed, pulling three bottles of hair gel from his desk. "I've been waiting for this moment my whole life!"

She smiled and shook her head. "Alright, the night shift O's should get here in about twenty minutes. Don't spend the whole time on your hair." As Otto made a face, she grinned and pressed a button. A divider lowered, separating their office into two private rooms. Olive slid away her office closet door and took out her outfit.

On the other side of the divider, Otto flipped open his badge phone. "Hey, Ms. O, is everything going well?"

"Yep! Otis, Olympia, and Oona are en route as we speak. How are things on your end?"

"Olive is getting ready. I wore my outfit under my tear-away suit, so I just have to do my hair. Which tube do we need to take?"

"Probably the side entrance, Oscar's only used it twice. Be sure to keep your badge on, though!"

"Will do."

"Oh, and be sure to get your earpiece and mic ready before you get to the dance. Oona will park the ice cream truck somewhere near the club. As soon as you're in range, it should start picking up the signal so we can all communicate. Just remember, don't talk to us, only listen or else Olive might get suspicious."

"Got it. I think Olive is almost done getting dressed, I better get to work. Over and out."

"Otto, that's trucker talk, not spy talk."

"Ten-four?"

"Still trucker."

"Hasta la vista?"

"Close enough. Talk to you later. Don't act suspicious!" Ms. O warned.

Otto closed his badge phone and immediately ripped off his suit.

"Hey Otto, you ready for me to lift the divider?"

Quickly, Otto grabbed a bottle of hair gel and started dumping it on his head. "Ye-yeah, yep! Go ahead!"

The divider raised and the powerful odor of hair gel permeated every inch of the room. Olive scrunched up her nose.

"You know, I think the entire hair product industry could survive just on sales to you and Soundcheck."

Otto grinned and popped the top of the second bottle. "Probably."

* * * * *

"I've gotta get ready now," Oscar said to Oswald as he closed the door to his office. In a second, he poked his head out again. "I'll be back in five minutes to help get ready for while I'm gone." After all, I just have to take off my lab uni... Oh crumpets, I knew I shouldn't have put all of the other outfits back on. He poked his head outside the door one more time. "Actually, give me about...twenty-five minutes."

Oswald smiled, shook her head, and dialed Ms. O's number.

"How's it going, Oswald?"

"Perfectly according to plan, Ms. O. He explained everything to me at least three times and is currently getting dressed."

"Great. Be sure to keep me posted."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * * * *

Oona glanced in the rearview mirror as she drove down Elm Street. "Otis, please stop digging your fingernails into the chairs. I just got done reupholstering this thing."

Otis looked at his hands and slowly pulled them away from his seat.

"Take a right here," Olympia instructed.

Oona put on her blinker, turned smoothly onto 24th Street, and parked a block away from the club. "Earpieces and cameras on?"

Olympia and Otis nodded.

"Good. The ice cream truck acts as a relay so that we can all communicate. It has a signal radius of two miles in every direction, or a sphere with a four mile diameter. Since the club is only a block away, we should be perfectly fine. Ready, Olympia?"

She pushed her cateye glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Let's do this."

* * * * *

5:45—Fifteen minutes until the dance

Otto ran a comb through his hair (which by this point was mostly gel), looked in the mirror, and gave a Fonzie-esque "eyy."

Olive laughed as she teased her hair and pulled it up into a high ponytail. "Not bad, partner. Now you just need a motorcycle."

Otto's eyes lit up. "Hey, maybe I could—"

"NO! Don't even think about it, we are not buying a motorcycle just so you can look like the Fonz."

"Aw man, but that's a completely legitimate reason to buy a motorcycle!"

Olive rolled her eyes and carefully curled her ponytail. With a final coat of hairspray, she walked over to the mirror. "Wow, Oona really outdid herself on these outfits."

"She sure did! In fact, they remind me of something..." Otto said, reaching for his OddPod.

"Please don't say—"

"Ssssoundchhheck!"

Olive cringed at the sound of her own voice blasting through Otto's speakers.

Otto smiled at her expectantly.

She raised her eyebrows. "Otto, I'm not going to—"

"Even across the vast reaches of the cosmos," Otto lip-synced dramatically.

"Please don't make me—"

"Is the only way to truly come together."

"Otto—"

He pointed at her theatrically. "Engage."

She rolled her eyes and stood up. "Oh, fine."

* * * * *

5:55—Five minutes until the dance

Oswald leaned against Oscar's doorframe and tapped her pen against her checklist. Finally, the door opened.

"Well, whaddya think?" Oscar asked, striking a pose.

"I think you may have ripped away one too many layers of pants, sir."

Oscar looked down at his boxers in horror and darted back into his office for a second. "Heh, whoops. There, now whaddya think?"

"Wonderful, sir. You look just like John Travolta. Except for the hair. And the height. And the muscles. And—"

"Thanks, Oswald."

She grinned. "No problem. Anyways, I've ordered a tube for you. O'Kane is waiting."

He cringed. "You mean the one who sent me to a remote village in Iceland last week?"

"That would be the one, sir. Remember, he's had another week of training now. I'm sure it'll be just fine."

He made a face, took a deep breath, and entered the science building's tube lobby. "Call me if you need anything, Oswald."

"Don't worry about a thing, sir. Enjoy your evening!"

Oscar turned to the operator. "O'Kane, please send me to the front south entrance of the Club 24."

The little red-haired boy smiled. "Absolutely, Mr. President! Preparing to squishinate," he said, pressing a series of buttons. "Squishinating!"

Oswald watched as he whooshed away through the tube system. "Thanks, O'Kane!"

"No problem, Miss Oswald, see you in a few hours!"

Oswald waved at him and backed out of the room. The door shut behind her as she walked down the hallway, when suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around her and lifted her feet off the ground.

She crossed her arms. "O'Daniel, someday I'm going to smack you."

The dark-skinned boy who looked to be about twelve (but, like Oswald, was actually much older) raised an eyebrow coyly. "Oh really?"

"And by smack I don't mean kiss."

He sighed. "Aw, but that sounds like so much more fun."

Oswald straightened the tie of his police-like security uniform and pulled his face down to hers. "Yeah, well, maybe after work hours."

O'Daniel stood up straight and offered his arm. "Dinner tonight?"

She slipped her arm through his, and together they walked to her desk. "Not tonight, sorry. President Oscar is going to a dance, so I have to work later than usual."

"Oh, was that who we just sent to the back entrance of the Club 24?"

"Ye—wait, back entrance? He was supposed to meet Ms. O at the front south! Ugh, O'Kane! I'm gonna have to call Professor O again."

O'Daniel shrugged. "At least it's not Iceland again, Oscar will probably just walk around the building."

Oswald's eyes grew wide. "Oh no, that's bad. That's really very not good."

"What's wrong?"

"You don't understand, Danny. This isn't just Ms. O and Oscar hanging out, this is a meticulously planned operation. Oscar walking around the building could ruin everything!"

"Hey, hey," he said, holding her shoulders. "Relax, we'll figure this out. What can I do to help?"

Oswald took a breath. "Okay, you call Ms. O. Explain what's happening. I'll call Otto."

E/N The two kids in the chapter header are Oswald and O'Daniel, both OCs of Agent0002. They are based on two characters from another popular fandom (who the photos are of), can anyone guess which fandom and what characters?