Odd Squad One Shots

All Along (Ms. O x Oscar)

(Ms. O x Oscar)

"ACHOO!" There was suddenly a loud honking noise followed by that sound. Instead of Ms. O yelling things like, "Well, what are you waiting for?! GO," she was stuck sneezing loudly. There was no chance that she was going to take time off. She was too busy and besides, who could she trust to fill in for her?

Suddenly one of her scientists came awkwardly through the door, tugging on their lab coat. "Hey, Ms. O, are you doing okay?"

"YES! WHY WOULDN'T I BE?" It was shocking how far her voice could carry, with such a scratchy feeling throat.

Oscar flinched slightly before answering, "Just asking. Uh, Olive and Otto, heh, you told me you were going to call for them an hour ago."

"Well, send them in. NOW...," she dragged out, Oscar almost stumbling out of there as he located the two agents.

"What seems to be the problem, Ms. O," Otto asked as they finally arrived.

"There you two are." Ms. O paused to cough into her sleeve. "Something very odd has happened." That sentence was followed by a loud sniff. "You know..." Another cough. "Flatam. Well, he's struck on 34th Maple Street, and..." Just then she had the worst coughing fit yet, almost gagging.

"Don't worry, we'll figure it out, Ms. O," Olive nodded seriously, knowing her boss didn't feel well at all.

Ms. O opened her mouth to yell her usual, "OSCAR," but all that came out was a raspy whisper. She then began coughing so hard that she knew she would be sick. She expected for her office to become a mess, but was surprised to see a dark purple trash can magically in front of her. A warm hand was also patting her back extra lightly, and also a bit timidly, as though she would shout at them, which wasn't so far fetched. Soon she composed herself, and sat back upright in her fancy chair.

"Oscar?" Her eyes were watery from throwing up so much.

"Hey," he softly greeted. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Ms. O claimed, but Oscar accidentally let it show that he didn't believe her. "What are you doing? You know I'm not much of a hugger," she reminded him.

Oscar had cautiously wrapped his arms around her, engulfing the small girl that felt so frail at the moment.

She hesitated to lean her head back against his shoulder at first, since he was behind her.

"Do you need anything, Ms. O? Water? Juice?" Oscar had a knowing smile from the last thing he mentioned.

Ms. O had a strange reaction though. She winced to the final suggestion. "No."

"You must really be sick if you don't even want juice," Oscar noted.

Ms. O weakly nodded her head.

"Maybe you should go see Dr. O...," Oscar offered.

"I already did. There's not much she can do. I guess I'm supposed to get plenty of rest, and drink lots of liquids, but I don't feel much like drinking anything..." Ms. O made a face from the mere thought of any type of drink.

"Do you want anything to eat," Oscar piped up, but Ms. O only turned paler in response. "Never mind..." He awkwardly looked away, feeling stupid for bringing it up.

"Oscar, can you help me to my couch," Ms. O questioned softly. She must really be sick too, if she was being this polite.

"Sure thing, Ms. O." Oscar lifted her up into his arms bridal style, causing a rare blush to attack her cheeks. He then proceeded with carrying her to the sofa, almost tripping on the way. Ms. O sighed as she closed her eyes in frustration, him finally getting her to the right destination.