Chapter Text
Olympia is a whirlwind of words. She’s been this way ever since Otis met her. He doesn’t mind. She talks enough for the both of them. That may come off insulting when said by anyone else, but Otis appreciates the fact that she fills any awkward silences and doesn’t expect the same of him.
Olympia hasn’t even sat down at her desk yet, but she’s already talking. “So last night, my moms and I went out to see a movie,” She turns on her computer and clicks her keyboard a few times to get it to turn on faster. “But apparently the screen was broken! Which was crazy, I didn’t know that could happen. Well, I did know that,” She corrects herself, “but I didn’t think they would cancel the movie! I thought they might be able to fix it. So we sat around for a while, and we ate all of our popcorn before the previews even started, so we went back to get some more, and the butter machine was broken, too!”
“Tragic.” Otis nods, starting up his own computer. His always takes longer to turn on, for some reason. Maybe Olympia’s keyboard trick actually does work. He types in his password, one key after the other. He tunes back into Olympia’s rambling.
“They ended up replacing our tickets, which was nice, but we never got to see the movie.” Olympia concludes her story with a sad tone.
Otis nods and hums to make sure she knows he was listening, and then starts their usual work routine. “Did you finish the casework from the last one yesterday?” He gestures with his hand as if to explain the specifics of the case.
Thankfully, Olympia knows all of their cases by heart. “Yup! Already turned it in.”
He raises his eyebrows, impressed. Olympia is fast. She always has been, which really he should’ve guessed. She talks fast, walks fast, and thinks fast. It’s hard to keep up with her sometimes. “Nice. I’ll get my form done and return those gadgets.”
“And I’ll let you know when we get a case.” Olympia says, already engrossed in her work. He’s not sure what exactly she’s working on, but she’s typing at the speed of light and he doesn’t want to distract her. He turns his attention back to his own computer screen. He doesn’t type nearly as fast as Olympia but he eventually finishes up the form, which was already halfway done when he got here, and sends it off in an email.
He pushes himself out of his chair and waves before he walks over to the lab. “Why did I do that?” He chides, under his breath.