Full Circle

Chapter 13

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.