Ships Ahoy!

The Scientist

A/N Fun fact: back when I first published this chapter on FanFiction.net, the date happened to be April 1st. So I decided to prank everyone by putting in an announcement in the Author's Note at the top that I'd gotten too busy and tired of writing this story, so I was making this the last chapter. Then at the bottom I said "oh by the way, April Fools!" and the outraged response I got in the reviews and on the Odd Squad wiki was HILARIOUS. I'm still laughing about it today. #mostsuccessfulaprilfoolsprankever

The first thing Dr. O said when Oscar wandered into the Medical Bay was, "You really need to stop asking Flo to cut your hair."

Oscar frowned. "What's wrong with how Mom does it? It's hard enough she's busy working at Progressive Insurance all day. She does exactly what I ask for, too!"

Dr. O set down the scalpel she was cleaning and gave him a pointed look.

"Plus I thought you and everyone else hated the afro, Opal!" he added.

Up went the eyebrows. "I'm still Dr. O, not Agent Opal anymore. And this one makes you look like an alfalfa space beehive," Dr. O answered, a hint of disgust mixed into her disbelief.

"It does not!" Oscar protested, instinctively touching a hand to his parted, slicked-back, fluffed-up hair, styled just like Odie's. "It makes me look like a scientist!"

"It makes you—" she stopped and shook her head. "Never mind. You're obviously not injured, which means you wanted to chat. How is becoming a scientist going, anyhow?"

Oscar took a seat and sighed. "That's what I came about. My extra ten years are almost up. There's nothing left for me to do now except get promoted to Lab Director."

Dr. O's eyes widened. "But that's great news! You've been looking forward to this for years. It's what you've always wanted, isn't it?"

"Of course it is! It's just...I originally wanted an extension so I could have time to talk things over with Olive. Y-y'know, explain to her why I was switching departments and c-couldn't be her partner anymore, heh. B-but..."

He's stuttering again, she noted. He only does that anymore when he's really nervous or really upset. "Let me guess: you still never told her?"

Oscar pressed his lips together in a thin line and shook his head. "N-no. But that's not even the real problem. Every time I t-tried to tell her, something happened to interrupt me or sh-she looked like she didn't want to b-be around me. I don't...well, I...I d-don't think she even wants me around enough to c-care that I'm leaving her t-to be Head Scientist." He looked up at her with worry in his soft brown eyes. "What do you think?"

For a moment Dr. O wasn't sure what to say. This wasn't just a medical problem to diagnose, prescribe, and move on from—this was an old friend coming to her for advice. Advice she wasn't sure she knew how to give. "I know how you feel, Oscar," she began.

"...really?"

"No, it's just something I thought I should say to start with. Next I was going to sit on the other waiting chair and figure out where to go from there." To illustrate her point, she moved aside the stack of magazines from the seat beside Oscar and sat down next to him. "Which is that I think you need to tell her the truth."

"But I—"

"Has Olive ever actually said she didn't want you around?"

"Well, no. It's just seemed like—"

"OSCAR!"

The two of them jumped. Standing in the doorway to the Medical Bay was none other than Ms. O, and from the look of her it was clear she meant business. "There you are, Oscar. I need to see you in my office immediadidyougetahaircut?"