It was lunch-time. Oswald collected his food and disappeared into his room, again.

Opal watched, sipping her soup. "He's still angry? That was over a week ago!"

Omar chewed and swallowed a bite of sandwich. "Well, you can hardly blame him. Poor guy. He's still showering in a bathing suit."

"And it would not have happened if we had not been on a quest for better fanfiction," Orla concluded, taking a sip of pomegranate juice.

"Yeah, I guess..." Opal contemplated her soup sadly. "All I wanted was for more people to write about us. I didn't know things would get so out of hand." She mused a moment. "Maybe we should do something to make it up to him."

Omar's eyebrow rose. "Like what?"

Orla was also suspicious. "What are you plotting?"

"No, no, it's perfect! And it'll solve our fanfic problem at the same time!"

"I thought it might," Orla squeezed her empty cup until it snapped in two. "And if your schemes cause any further harm to befall our friend Oswald..."

"It won't, it won't!" Opal said quickly, fearing for her life. "If it all works out, he'll be very happy. And if it doesn't, he'll still be okay."

Omar sat forward. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well..." Opal pondered. "Oswald's upset because nobody's shipping him, right?"

"Yeah...?"

"So, let's ship him!"

"What?"

"I concur: What?"

"Listen. We're still near 13579, right? And there are a lot of really nice girl agents working there. So..."

#

"A BLIND DATE?"

"Well, yes," Opal admitted as she steered Oswald to the Confalones' Italian restaurant. . "We all felt really bad about what happened, so we arranged it to make it up to you..."

"And to appeal to the shippers, of course." Oswald sighed. "Fine. It's not like I have any dignity left to lose anyway..."

He broke away for a second, went to a stand, and bought some flowers. Then, steeling himself, he marched into the restaurant.

"Have fun!" Opal called after him. Then to herself. "Oh, this better work, oh, this better work, oh, PLEASE let this work..." She unclipped her badge phone and called Omar.

"He's headed into the restaurant. You did set everything up with Octavia, right?"

Omar hesitated. "Well... Sorta..."

Opal looked from the phone to the restaurant back to the phone. "What do you mean 'sort of'?"

Omar coughed. "No, really, it was all set up and everything but Octavia got called away on a case at the last second so I had to get someone else instead."

Opal's eyes narrowed. "Omar, if we screw this up..." She took a deep breath. "Now who did you get?"

#

Oswald stood in front of the table, frozen in shock. "YOU'RE my date?"

Oskana glared at him. "I was told there'd be free food."

The flowers fell from his hand onto the rug.

#

"I'm not so good at remembering names. She is nice, though, right?"

Opal massaged her temples.

"You want me to do anything else?"

Opal took a deep breath and tried to restrain herself. "Yes. Hide all the knives. I'll try to figure something out..."

#

Recovering his ability to move, he quickly gathered up the bouquet and offered it to Oskana.

"Oh. Flowers." She took them and examined them indifferently. "How plebian." She tossed them on the empty chair next to hers.

"Heh," Oswald sat down across from her. "So... You're Oskana..."

"And you're the guy with the birthmask."

Oswald turned bright red. "I was hoping you'd forgotten about that..."

"So was I. It's a goal I'm striving to achieve."

Oswald's badge-phone rang. "Helloooooooo..."

It was Opal. "Oswald, I'm so sorry, it's a really long story, I'll explain it all when you get back. Look, if you want, I'll run in and say you're needed on a case..."

Oswald considered and shook his head. "Nah. That'd be rude. After all, Oskana is a human being..." He glanced at her. "Theoretically... I can't just look at her, scream, and run away. I'll call if there are any problems." He hung up and pinned his badge back on. "After all, we get a meal out of it, right?" He smiled awkwardly.

"Exactly." Oskana took a sip of water. "But keep your hands to yourself or you're dead."

Oswald dropped his hands to his sides.

#

"What? No Orla," Oswald hit behind a pillar in the lobby, talking on his badge-phone. "No, swordplay won't be necessary." He peeked at Oskana looking at the menu at their table. "Not right now, anyway. No, I can't. I'll call if I need help. Thanks. Bye."

Clipping his badge back on, he went back to his table. "Sorry. My friends are worried about me."

"They should be."

Oswald giggled nervously. "W-Well, you can't blame a person for what they might be thinking..."

"I can."

He coughed. "W-W-Well, you can't be thrown in jail for what you're thinking..."

"I can."

Mercifully, the waiter appeared. "So, are you ready to order?"

Oswald looked uncertain. "Do you want me to order for..."

Oskana handed her menu to the waiter. "I'll have the Tuscan tuna and white bean salad, the linguine with clam sauce, and those clams had better be good or the whole plate's going back, and the baked turkey sausage and mascarpone stuffed shells."

Oswald's mouth fell open. Then the waiter turned to him.

"I... I'll have the ravioli. And a small salad. And a Pepsi."

#

A little later, Oswald was picking at his food.

"So, um..." He cleared his throat. Oskana continued eating. "What's it like being the Odd Squad lunch lady?"

She glared at him and he wilted.

"Look, can we just finish eating and go?" She checked her watch. "My favorite band, Gastrointestinal Disorder, is playing tonight and I don't want to be late."

Oswald gasped. "Gastrointestinal Disorder's playing HERE? I LOVE GASTROINTESTINAL DISORDER! Where are they playing?"

"It's at the Schumberland Ballroom." Oskana stared at him. "You've heard of them?"

"Heard of them? Their last album, WHEN MIDGETS MARRY, was AWESOME! And their performance at the Kirkland Theater was incredible! HUGE fan!"

"Seriously?" She half-smiled. "It's not that far from here. We can head over after dinner."

"Great!" Oswald unclipped his badge. "I'll call my partners and tell them I'll be late and..."

He got a busy signal. "Hmm. They must be busy. Oh well, I'll catch up with 'em later!"

#

The next day...

"The Big O called!" Opal insisted to Oswald's closed door. "There was an outbreak of rabbits calypso-dancing in Houston! We got back as quickly as we could!"

From the other side of the door. "It's fine..."

"Then by the time we got done, we were so exhausted, we just fell asleep while Van Computer flew us home. We're sorry!"

"It's fine."

"We didn't mean to be so late, it was just..."

"It's fine. You had a mission."

Omar joined Opal at the door. "Hey man, I'm the one who screwed up. If you're gonna be mad at anyone..."

"It's fine."

Orla joined them. "I should never have allowed this. I should don sackcloth and ashes for my penance."

"Don't bother. It's fine."

"Look, we'll all take you out tonight, anywhere you wanna go! How 'bout it?"

"Some other time."

The door opened and Oswald emerged. He was dressed head to toe in black, with leather wristbands and a blazing skull tee-shirt. The others stared, jaws dropped.

"Tonight, Oskana and I are gonna go see Alien Open Autopsy at the Brilonic, then the Coprolite show at Max's Shrunken Head. She knows all the best bands!"

He slid a pair of sunglasses on his face, slipped his badge-phone in his pocket,and headed out the door. "I'll be back late. Don't wait up."

The other three watched him go, then exchanged looks.

Omar shrugged. "Who knew?"

Opal crossed her arms. "I did..."

#