OOM: Bitches, Part Two.

[lonelytouristcc]

INT. THE PIE HOLE - LATER THAT DAY

So the Piemaker sought to use Emerson Cod as a sounding board for that reality, which recently included a moonlit kiss with one Olive Snook.

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[piesordeath]

He folds his arms and leans forward, never mind that Emerson may not want to hear this.

"I had a sexy dream about Olive last night," he admits, keeping his voice low. "And I'm sure it was influenced by a reality-based kiss by the road, y’know ..."

- remembering that moment conjures up a whole lot of unnecessary, unwanted guilt.

[cod_pi]

Of course. Because it's not like he was using that appetite of his in a pie restaurant, anyway.

Emerson tries rolling his eyes, and fixing Ned with a frustrated glare, but both are hampered by the experience that tells him neither will be effective.

"There's no way for this conversation to be anything but awkward for me."

[piesordeath]

Ned doesn't intentionally ignore Emerson; he's just got a lot on his mind.

"She was wearing a Chuck suit," he goes on. "In the dream. What do you think it means, beyond the obvious?"

[cod_pi]

"Dream's just your brain processing random rigmarole it couldn't find a place for," Emerson answers dismissively. He's not one for all that Freudian cigar's-anything-but-a-cigar whatever.

"It don't mean nothin'."

As he reaches for his coffee, "'Cept you feelin' guilty about kissin' Olive when you wanna be kissin' some dead girl you can't."

[piesordeath]

"I said 'beyond the obvious'," he reminds Emerson, looking properly miserable.

"And Olive kissed me - it was a friendly expression of innocent gratitude."

[cod_pi]

Pausing before taking a sip of his coffee, "Was it a wet kiss or a dry kiss?"

That appetite's already gone, in any case.

[piesordeath]

He thinks about it for a second.

"There was a little moisture, I guess ..." And at the thought of that, he groans. "Ohh."

Not good. Not good at all.

He brings his hands to his face, balled up into fists.

[cod_pi]

It occurs to Emerson that many conversations he has at the Pie Hole involve him telling others what they already know.

It's one part of it he can enjoy. Just a little.

"That girl dropped a bomb in your subconscious with her saliva."

[piesordeath]

"You make it sound so devious," he says. "It's not."

(That's his story, and he's sticking to it.)

"It didn't mean anything - which is why Chuck doesn't have to know."

[cod_pi]

There were two women in Emerson's life that informed his philosophies on romantic relationships. The first, that love makes you stupid, came from Principal Eleanor Swindle, his fifth-grade crush. The other -

"Some women love like gangsters." Raising his voice an appropriate note, "They be like, 'ooh, baby you bleedin'! How that happen?' While they're hidin' the razor in their weave."

That came courtesy of one Lilah Robinson.

[piesordeath]

Ned blinks all while still maintaining the miserable, kicked-puppy expression.

"Olive's not a gangster."

[cod_pi]

Emerson nearly rolls his eyes. Again.

"Why you think she's always rubbin' up on you?"

[piesordeath]

"To be nice!" he exclaims quickly. Because there is no way he'll agree with something like that.

"It’s an employee-employer kind of ... niceness that occasionally includes platonic rubbing."

[cod_pi]

"Ain't nothin' platonic about it," he grumbles.

[piesordeath]

"Oh."

The very last strand of his innocent thought disintegrates as he comes to the realization that -

Emerson is right.

He groans, burying his face in his hands, head to the table. "Ohh."

[cod_pi]

Emerson chuckles.

"You comin' undone, ain't you?"