OMG Part 3 of 'Heroes Pie-Wich' at last!
Title: Heroes Pie-Wich, Part 3: Every Gal in Constantinople
Fandoms: Pushing Daisies and Heroes
Rating: PG-13 for sexual situations and a swear word
Word Count: 3,570 (aprox.)
Pairings: Ned/Chuck, Elle/Claire, Olive/Claire, Olive/Chuck, more
Characters: Ned, Chuck, Claire Bennet, Olive Snook, HRG, surprise guest star, mentions of many, many others.
Disclaimers/Spoilers: I only wish that I’d come up with the idea for Pushing Daisies, and I only wish that I could control Heroes. Sadly, I own neither, so please do not sue me, devote your time instead to sending ‘Save Pushing Daisies!’ letters to ABC or whoever will listen to our plight. I also don’t own the band The Might Be Giants. I also don’t own the company ‘Myrtle’s Herbals,’ which is a real thing but too perfect to not use. Spoilers for S2 of Heroes and S1 of Pushing Daisies.
Warnings: Me, writing femslash. Het love. A lack of m/m love. Bad Jim Dale impersonations. Dogs with plans. Murder poorly executed attempts at suspense.
A/N: Claire is 18 in this. Nothing illegal going on here … except for the fact that I didn’t manage to drag Mohinder and Sylar Gabriel in this chapter, and that this is TWO DAYS LATER than I promised *cries* I am so, so sorry, guys. And, room for sequels though there might be, I’ve got so much on my plate this spring that honestly, as much fun as this has been, don’t hold your breath. Skim the previouslies if you’ve read them already, and please enjoy!
Dedicated To: yaoi_anti_drug , who sadly had no time to write this and speculated about it with me instead.
http://aunt-zelda.livejournal.com/101425.html#cutid1 - Part 1
http://aunt-zelda.livejournal.com/102247.html#cutid1 - Part 2
Previously on Pushing Daisies, young Ned had a special gift. He could touch dead things and bring them back to life. But he could only bring them back for one minute, any longer, and someone else had to die. And there was one more thing he had to learn: first touch, life; second touch: dead, again, forever. But as young Ned grew into the Pie Maker, this gift proved to be most useful in the untimely death of his childhood sweetheart, Charlotte 'Chuck' Charles, whom he brought back to life. Unable to touch, Chuck and Ned nevertheless grew very much in love with each other. For years, Ned had been using his extraordinary gift to touch murder victims, ask who killed them, and collect the reward money with his business partner, Detective Emerson Cod.
Previously on Heroes, young Claire had a special gift. She could be struck dead and come back to life. This gift proved most useful, because in her world, being different made her the target of dangerous people. From the unnamed Company her father used to work for, to the superpowered serial killer Gabriel Gray (aka ‘Sylar’) who cut open the heads of fellow ‘special’ people to acquire their abilities. Mr. Sylar was suspiciously lenient with Mohinder Suresh - the son of Chandra Suresh whom Mr. Sylar had killed after being deemed ‘normal’ by the unfortunate geneticist Sr. - despite being tortured and almost murdered by the revenge-seeking geneticist. Mohinder Suresh adopted Molly Walker, a young girl whose parents were murdered by Sylar, one for their ability, and the other for simply being in the way.
~*~
“If you were guys I’d say this was sexist and demeaning,” Claire said, crossing her arms over the red, blue, and silver top she’d been given to wear. “And I still think that you would have filled it out better …” she tugged the straps to pull it up somewhat, overly conscious of her cup size.
“You look adorable!” Chuck said, giving her a punch on the arm and grinning.
“And you have nothing to be ashamed of, filling-out wise.” Olive added, leaning her head on Claire’s bare shoulder.
Claire sighed and supposed she ought to count herself lucky that Chuck and Olive had made adjustments to the lower-part of the outfit. If she didn’t have these slits up the side of her white-and-blue and red tail-skirt, she’d have had to hop all the way up the bleachers. ‘Hopping + bleachers’ was a recipe for disaster, even if you could regenerate.
“At least you don’t have to wear these monstrosities at night!” Chuck pointed out, cheerily tapping the gigantic pair of sunglasses that were perched on her nose. She straightened her sunhat - which also doubled as a wig, having fake orange hair hanging down from the inside - and ate a berry from the pie they’d brought in place of popcorn.
“Ooooooo!” the crowd chorused as two pairs of legs popped up from the pool, struck identical poses, and slowly began sinking back beneath the water. Chuck sighed longingly, and Olive shouted “You go, Vivian!”
Claire pretended not to notice that Olive’s hand was creeping over to her own, but she blushed a little once they were officially holding hands. Unbidden, memories of another hand, and another blond woman, surged into Claire’s head.
Just as Olive leaned in to kiss her, Claire leapt to her feet, yanking her hand out of the other woman’s.
“I … uh … need some air …” she stuttered, nearly tripping over Olive’s legs as she fled down the bleachers and headed for the parking lot, tugging her sweatshirt on over her revealing top.
I’m over her! Olive is sweet and wonderful and does funny things to my insides. That means love. Elle was …Elle wasn’t love.
Claire shook her head, trying to make herself believe that.
Meanwhile, at the top of the bleachers, Olive Snook, abandoned and fully-aware that they were outside and getting as much air as possible, turned to the hatted and bespectacled woman sitting beside her.
“Have you ever heard my Ned-voice?”
~*~
Elle Bishop was a woman scorned. After terrorizing the Bennet family for three weeks, eight hours, and twenty-seven minutes (on and off Company assignment) she finally made her true feelings for Claire Bennet known in the form of a singed bouquet of roses and the sentence “Bitch, I love you.” Young Miss Bennet had responded by hitting her sadistically sincere suitoress over the head with said flowers and fled with her family to the whimsical, suburban hills of Couer-d’-Couer. The Bennets had successfully evaded the mysterious Company for five months, two weeks, three days, and forty-five minutes. At five months, two weeks, three days, and forty-six minutes, however, Elle Bishop had tracked her quarry to a city in the vicinity of Couer-d’-Couer. Specifically to the establishment called ‘The Pie Hole,’ where Claire Bennet had apparently taken a job.
Gazing around the nearly-deserted restaurant, Elle Bishop scowled: no Claire in sight.
The man with horn-rimmed glasses stood up. “Elle …” he said in a neutral tone.
She gave him a defiant look. “Bennet.”
“I thought my daughter made herself perfectly clear. She does not want to enter a relationship with you.” he crossed his arms and shot a warning glance at Ned.
Elle snorted. “Oh, sure, like I’m gonna believe that. You just don’t want us to be together.” she sniffed the air. “Hey, Pie Maker!”
Ned froze: he’d been preparing to surruptiously pass Bennet a rolling pin. This woman looked dangerous, but he thought Claire’s father seemed like a more appropriate person to throw her out.
Elle grinned at him. “Gimme a slice of that pie over there … and maybe I won’t kill you.” she winked at him and leapt up to perch on one of the tables. “Sit down, Bennet,” she held up a hand, and blue sparks leapt from them up to a ceiling lamp, making it flicker ominously.
Ned gulped and began getting her a slice of pie, wishing that he was the paranoid type who put alarms under the counter and kept a shotgun with the wooden spoons. He watched as Bennet grabbed a chair and sat on it backwards, bringing to mind the day that Emerson had been informing him on the different kinds of badasses: garden-variety, long-coated … and the chair-straddlers, the most dangerous kind. Ned gulped a second time and set the pie plate on the table Elle was sitting on, wondering if he dared chance smashing it over her head.
She blew him a kiss and began eating the pie, sparks shooting down her fork as she did so. “I must admit, Mr. Bennet, I underestimated you. Hiding your Claire-bear away from me for five whole months?” she waggled her finger at him, suddenly flicking her hand and sending a bolt of electricity at the former-Company man. He fell off of his chair and onto the floor, twitching uncontrollably.
Ned ducked behind the counter, rummaging around for some kind of weapon and thinking every Latin curse-word he’d been taught at the Longborough School for Boys.
“You think you can keep us apart, Mr. Bennet? Huh?” Elle was shrieking. “Well, you can’t! We’re in love, and when you’re dead, you won’t be able to stand in the way anymore!”
Ned decided the rolling pin was his best bet and hesitated, wondering if he could take this chance and side with a stranger with a shady past against another stranger with an even shadier past.
“Face it, Elle, Claire doesn’t love you …” Bennet groaned, sounding as though he was still on the floor.
Elle snorted, and then Ned heard the crackle of electricity again. This time it was accompanied by HRG’s screams.
“Maybe I’ll bring Claire back to the Company … then we could be agents together …” Elle laughed, and from the sound of it, was walking around the Pie Hole.
Ned peered up over the counter. Elle was standing with her back to him and Bennet. It was now or never …
He threw the rolling pin to Bennet, who caught it and immediately leapt to his feet.
Elle turned around …
Ka-THUNK.
… but was unable to do more than open her eyes very wide before crumpling to the floor.
HRG set the rolling pin down on the counter and took a bite of the slice of pie Elle had been eating.
“I’m sure you hear this all the time but … this is phenomenally good pie…”
~*~
Meanwhile, back up in the bleachers of the Darling Mermaid Darlings concert pool area, Claire had returned to the topmost perch to find Olive straddling Chuck, hands hidden beneath the other woman’s amber-colored skirt.
Mouth suddenly dry, Claire stood frozen in the aisle, mouth agape as she watched Chuck muffle a cry into her hand and go limp, tears on her cheeks.
“Ned … Ned …” the former Lonely Tourist whimpered as she slid away from Olive, sobbing into her hands.
Olive looked slightly horrified, still crouching on the floor beneath the topmost bleacher, not even blinking as the man down by the pool announced the Darling Mermaid Darlings’ final act for the evening.
Claire shook herself out of her daze and ducked down under the bleacher with the other women, biting her lip as she did so.
“Look Olive …” Claire sighed and tried not to focus on Chuck’s muffled sobbing. “I really really like you but … I think I was projecting my old feelings for Elle onto you. That’s why I flirted and kissed you and came here tonight. I’d never be so forward with someone I only just met. I’m … I’m sorry. I think I used you, and that’s not fair.”
Olive looked up at her. “I don’t mind. Nobody uses me.” she blinked a few times, sniffled, and rubbed her eyes furiously. “I have so much love and music inside of me, and nobody wants it.”
Claire felt the same sensation as when she broke bones … only this time near the vicinity of her heart. “I’m sure … I’m sure someone does …”
Olive snorted. “No one I’ve seen, and I see a lot of people in the Pie Hole and on those mad capers Ned sometimes investigates. I’m in love with Ned, and he doesn’t realize for years. I’m in love with Chuck, and all she wants is Ned. I’m in love with you, and you’re in love with an electrical stalker from that gray-and-sepia-toned past of yours!”
Claire sighed. She wanted to do something, but she’d never been very good at these things. She’d been moving around too long to forge long-lasting relationships and experience the pitfalls that came with them.
“Hey, maybe I could call my uncle!” she exclaimed, startling both of her fellow waitresses.
“Why? Can he mend broken hearts?” Olive asked, a little hopefully.
“No, but … he dresses a bit like Ned. He even looks a bit like Ned … but he’s got sillier hair.” Claire giggled weakly, realizing how alike Peter Petrelli and Ned were.
“Hmmmm …” Olive considered this. “If he can make it out here, let Chuck and I be the judge of just how Ned-like he is.”
Claire beamed. “Great, I will … he’s kind of a danger-magnet, though … you guys don’t mind danger, right?”
Olive laughed. “No!” she trilled, giving Claire a semi-platonic hug.
Chuck - wiping her tears on her fake-wig - bravely attempted a grin and added “We eat it up like pie!”
~*~
Meanwhile, back at the Pie Hole, Elle Bishop stirred, stood up, and hurled a ball of electricity at one of the lamps. It shattered, sending Bennet and the Pie Maker scrambling under a table.
Flinging bolts along the wall of the restaurant and at the table her quarry was hiding behind, Elle screeched “I’m gonna blow you straight to hell, Mr. Bennet!”
However, before Elle Bishop could blow the Pie Maker and the man called Bennet straight to hell, the door to the Pie Hole burst open for the third time that night: a man in a bottle-green suit stood on the threshold. Undaunted by the sparks flying from Elle’s hands, he drew a spritzer bottle from his coat pocket, aimed, and fired at the surprised blond.
After succeeding in only making her shirt slightly damp, the man in the bottle-green suit hit Elle Bishop in the eye with the contents of the bottle. She shrieked and fell over, rubbing her eyes feverishly for a few seconds, until the man in the bottle-green suit emptied the spritzer bottle into her open mouth, whereupon she sighed lethargically and passed out.
The man straightened up and turned to the Pie Maker and Bennet, who were peering up from behind the table they’d overturned. “My name is Alfredo Aldarisio, recently promoted to Chairman of Myrtle’s Herbals ™. Could you kindly direct me in the direction of one Olive Snook, a waitress in this fine establishment?”
The facts were these: through a series of self-help books and natural intuition, motivated by love for the waitress he’d fixed an espresso machine for, Alfredo Aldarisio went from lowly traveling salesman to Chairman of Myrtle’s Herbals ™ in six short months. At the first opportunity, he’d flown back to the city in which he’d met the enchanting Miss Snook to see if it was possible for her to love him back.
He looked around the room, noting the fresh scorch-marks on the walls, the cracked tiles on the floor, and at Bennet and the Pie Maker, who were still crouching behind the table.
“Gentlemen, you look like you could use some pharmaceutical alternatives …”
~*~
When Ned was a young boy, he had once asked his mother why other boys resembled their fathers and Ned did not. Ned’s mother had smiled sadly, patted him on the head, and said she would explain when he was older. Tragically, Ned’s mother never got to see her son any older, and took the secret of Ned’s father to her grave.
As he grew older and experimented more and more with his ‘ability,’ Ned began to wonder if his father possessed such a gift as well. However, no mysterious stranger with the power to bring dead things back to life ever arrived in the Pie Hole, and soon Ned forgot all about the possibility of his ‘touch’ running in the family. After all, the only person he’d ever considered passing along his genetics with was Chuck, and that was impossible.
And here was a man explaining - in a slow, understanding sort of voice - that his real father had been none other than Daniel Linderman, mob-boss and one of the founders of the shadowy Company that Claire Bennet was so frightened of.
“He was in Vietnam. Healed people on the battlefield. He did some terrible things, Pie Maker, but he also did some good things. I’m sorry you never got to know him.” Bennet patted Ned on the shoulder in what Ned realized was a fatherly kind of way.
“I don’t … usually do this but … could I have a hug, please?” Ned asked, sounding more pitiful than he’d intended to.
The man called Bennet nodded and gave the Pie Maker the very best man-hug he’d ever bestowed in his entire life. Ned sniffed heavily and they broke apart, shuffling their feet awkwardly.
Eventually Bennet cleared his throat. “So, this business of bringing someone back and not being able to touch them again … if you can last a year you’re all set.”
Ned’s eyes widened to the size of Chuck’s cup-pies.
Bennet tilted his head to the side. “No one’s been known to exhibit such restraint before … you’ve gotta remain within a hundred miles of each other for that year … have you and this girl done that?”
Ned nodded, stunned.
Alfredo Aldarisio whistled. “True love … the one emotion we can’t bottle …” he glanced at the kitchen. “I suppose I could return tomorrow -”
At that exact moment, the doors clanged open once again that night. Claire, Olive, and Chuck entered, laughing and singing, then stopped, seeing the destruction that the Pie Hole had suffered.
Bennet stared down at his daughter. “Why are you dressed like a mermaid, Claire-bear?”
Claire looked up at her father. “Why are you dressed like a … Company agent, dad?” she asked, taking a more defensive stance in her slitted tail-skirt.
The sodden woman on the floor stirred again. “Claire …?” she groaned, turning over to look at the assembled crowd by the doorway. “Pom-pom!” she shrieked, leaping to her feet.
Blushing, Claire threw out her arms and cried “Elle-bell!”
Olive peered around Claire’s shoulders. “Fredo?”
The Chairman of Myrtle’s Herbals ™ struck a gallant pose. “Olive!”
Chuck managed to make her way to the middle of the Pie Hole floor. “Hey, Ned,” she waved, beaming at the speechless Pie Maker.
A series of things happened at relatively the same time:
Elle Bishop tackled Claire to the tiled floor, ignored the fact that she’d just given her beloved a concussion, and began kissing every inch of her that she could reach.
Alfredo Aldarisio kissed Olive so passionately that she did not notice when he lifted her from the ground, nor when he began spinning on the spot, or even when her airborne foot ‘popped’ as in old movies. All she was aware of was the jazz music swelling in her head, and how right it felt to be kissed by the traveling salesman.
Chuck’s eyes widened to the size of her cup-pies as Ned came dangerously close to her … and then leaned down and kissed her on the lips.
As Elle and Claire rolled around on the floor and Alfredo and Olive continued to spin, Chuck pulled away and began touching Ned’s hands, face, and neck.
“Am I dreaming? How can we be touching, I thought …” she stood on tip-toes and kissed him again.
Once they’d broken apart again, Ned grinned “Apparently it wears off …” and they started kissing again, for the third time.
“You taste like honey …” Ned whispered in her ear.
“You taste like pie …” Chuck whispered back.
~*~
Sixteen minutes and eleven seconds later, Emerson Cod entered the Pie Hole. He looked around, noting the blond woman who was sparking blue as she rolled her way towards the pantry with Dead-Girl #2; the green-suited man who was proposing to Olive Snook with a ring whose stone was the size of an olive; and the Pie Maker being led upstairs by Dead-Girl #1.
“Figures,” he muttered, sitting down in a booth across from a man wearing horn-rimmed glasses. “I leave them alone for just one day and - is that Apple-Butternut-Butterscotch-Butter-Pecan pie you’ve got there?”
The man with horn-rimmed glasses looked up from the pie he was eating straight out of its dish. “I think it’s a mistake. Half of it seems to be … what you just said, and the other half is Peach-and-Strawberry-Macadamia-Nut.”
Emerson’s eyes glazed over, and a small moaning noise began issuing from his throat.
The man with horn-rimmed glasses raised an eyebrow. “Want a fork?”
“Yes please.” Emerson took the proffered utensil and began digging into the section farthest from the other man. “I haven’t eaten in more than a day …”
After a while, the man with glasses extended his hand over the table. “My name is Noah Bennet, but most people call me HRG. I’m a former Company agent, and I’m looking for a job of some kind.”
Emerson Cod took a more defensive position with his fork. He glanced into the folds of HRG’s coat. “Nice gun-cozy.”
HRG’s hand drifted to it. “It was a gift from my wife.”
Emerson snorted and addressed the ceiling. “Man can’t even knit himself a gun-cozy, and he’s asking for my help?”
“Not help: a partnership.” HRG crossed his arms and watched as Emerson took another bite of pie. “With our combined forces: my agent-training, your local knowledge, my daughter and your Pie Maker … we could solve three-times as many cases as we do flying solo.”
Emerson Cod raised one eyebrow and slowly took another bite of pie - larger, this time. He finished an entire slice, and still HRG did not move. Steadily, he polished off left of the pie, seemingly waiting for HRG to make a move. Then he set down his fork, nodding.
“Man who lets me take his pie is a man I can trust.” he held out his hand. “Welcome to ‘Cod and Bennet,’ the detectives that will do whatever it takes. I’ll have to have a new sign made …”
HRG shook his hand. “But … ‘B’ comes before ‘C’ …”
“Don’t test me, glasses-man.” Emerson said, picking up the empty dish and setting his sights on the rack of pies in the kitchen. “So … you like pop-up books?”
Before the former-Company-agent-turned-family-man-turned-detective could answer, muffled shouts where heard from the pantry.
“Mr. Muggles, are you hiding in one of Chuck’s bee-hive cozies?”
“Get him out of here! The little fluffer’s staring at me!”
There were several yelps, some scrambling noises, and with an indignant bark, Mr. Muggles, Pomeranian with ambitions to rule the world, was unceremoniously flung out of the pantry and into Digby’s doggie bed.
Raising their eyebrows in unison, Emerson Cod and Noah Bennet returned to their pie.
“So, pop-up books …”
The End (please comment, or ABC executives will MOCK YOUR SOUL … oh, wait …)
Fandoms: Pushing Daisies and Heroes
Rating: PG-13 for sexual situations and a swear word
Word Count: 3,570 (aprox.)
Pairings: Ned/Chuck, Elle/Claire, Olive/Claire, Olive/Chuck, more
Characters: Ned, Chuck, Claire Bennet, Olive Snook, HRG, surprise guest star, mentions of many, many others.
Disclaimers/Spoilers: I only wish that I’d come up with the idea for Pushing Daisies, and I only wish that I could control Heroes. Sadly, I own neither, so please do not sue me, devote your time instead to sending ‘Save Pushing Daisies!’ letters to ABC or whoever will listen to our plight. I also don’t own the band The Might Be Giants. I also don’t own the company ‘Myrtle’s Herbals,’ which is a real thing but too perfect to not use. Spoilers for S2 of Heroes and S1 of Pushing Daisies.
Warnings: Me, writing femslash. Het love. A lack of m/m love. Bad Jim Dale impersonations. Dogs with plans. Murder poorly executed attempts at suspense.
A/N: Claire is 18 in this. Nothing illegal going on here … except for the fact that I didn’t manage to drag Mohinder and Sylar Gabriel in this chapter, and that this is TWO DAYS LATER than I promised *cries* I am so, so sorry, guys. And, room for sequels though there might be, I’ve got so much on my plate this spring that honestly, as much fun as this has been, don’t hold your breath. Skim the previouslies if you’ve read them already, and please enjoy!
Dedicated To: yaoi_anti_drug , who sadly had no time to write this and speculated about it with me instead.
http://aunt-zelda.livejournal.com/101425.html#cutid1 - Part 1
http://aunt-zelda.livejournal.com/102247.html#cutid1 - Part 2
Previously on Pushing Daisies, young Ned had a special gift. He could touch dead things and bring them back to life. But he could only bring them back for one minute, any longer, and someone else had to die. And there was one more thing he had to learn: first touch, life; second touch: dead, again, forever. But as young Ned grew into the Pie Maker, this gift proved to be most useful in the untimely death of his childhood sweetheart, Charlotte 'Chuck' Charles, whom he brought back to life. Unable to touch, Chuck and Ned nevertheless grew very much in love with each other. For years, Ned had been using his extraordinary gift to touch murder victims, ask who killed them, and collect the reward money with his business partner, Detective Emerson Cod.
Previously on Heroes, young Claire had a special gift. She could be struck dead and come back to life. This gift proved most useful, because in her world, being different made her the target of dangerous people. From the unnamed Company her father used to work for, to the superpowered serial killer Gabriel Gray (aka ‘Sylar’) who cut open the heads of fellow ‘special’ people to acquire their abilities. Mr. Sylar was suspiciously lenient with Mohinder Suresh - the son of Chandra Suresh whom Mr. Sylar had killed after being deemed ‘normal’ by the unfortunate geneticist Sr. - despite being tortured and almost murdered by the revenge-seeking geneticist. Mohinder Suresh adopted Molly Walker, a young girl whose parents were murdered by Sylar, one for their ability, and the other for simply being in the way.
~*~
“If you were guys I’d say this was sexist and demeaning,” Claire said, crossing her arms over the red, blue, and silver top she’d been given to wear. “And I still think that you would have filled it out better …” she tugged the straps to pull it up somewhat, overly conscious of her cup size.
“You look adorable!” Chuck said, giving her a punch on the arm and grinning.
“And you have nothing to be ashamed of, filling-out wise.” Olive added, leaning her head on Claire’s bare shoulder.
Claire sighed and supposed she ought to count herself lucky that Chuck and Olive had made adjustments to the lower-part of the outfit. If she didn’t have these slits up the side of her white-and-blue and red tail-skirt, she’d have had to hop all the way up the bleachers. ‘Hopping + bleachers’ was a recipe for disaster, even if you could regenerate.
“At least you don’t have to wear these monstrosities at night!” Chuck pointed out, cheerily tapping the gigantic pair of sunglasses that were perched on her nose. She straightened her sunhat - which also doubled as a wig, having fake orange hair hanging down from the inside - and ate a berry from the pie they’d brought in place of popcorn.
“Ooooooo!” the crowd chorused as two pairs of legs popped up from the pool, struck identical poses, and slowly began sinking back beneath the water. Chuck sighed longingly, and Olive shouted “You go, Vivian!”
Claire pretended not to notice that Olive’s hand was creeping over to her own, but she blushed a little once they were officially holding hands. Unbidden, memories of another hand, and another blond woman, surged into Claire’s head.
Just as Olive leaned in to kiss her, Claire leapt to her feet, yanking her hand out of the other woman’s.
“I … uh … need some air …” she stuttered, nearly tripping over Olive’s legs as she fled down the bleachers and headed for the parking lot, tugging her sweatshirt on over her revealing top.
I’m over her! Olive is sweet and wonderful and does funny things to my insides. That means love. Elle was …Elle wasn’t love.
Claire shook her head, trying to make herself believe that.
Meanwhile, at the top of the bleachers, Olive Snook, abandoned and fully-aware that they were outside and getting as much air as possible, turned to the hatted and bespectacled woman sitting beside her.
“Have you ever heard my Ned-voice?”
~*~
Elle Bishop was a woman scorned. After terrorizing the Bennet family for three weeks, eight hours, and twenty-seven minutes (on and off Company assignment) she finally made her true feelings for Claire Bennet known in the form of a singed bouquet of roses and the sentence “Bitch, I love you.” Young Miss Bennet had responded by hitting her sadistically sincere suitoress over the head with said flowers and fled with her family to the whimsical, suburban hills of Couer-d’-Couer. The Bennets had successfully evaded the mysterious Company for five months, two weeks, three days, and forty-five minutes. At five months, two weeks, three days, and forty-six minutes, however, Elle Bishop had tracked her quarry to a city in the vicinity of Couer-d’-Couer. Specifically to the establishment called ‘The Pie Hole,’ where Claire Bennet had apparently taken a job.
Gazing around the nearly-deserted restaurant, Elle Bishop scowled: no Claire in sight.
The man with horn-rimmed glasses stood up. “Elle …” he said in a neutral tone.
She gave him a defiant look. “Bennet.”
“I thought my daughter made herself perfectly clear. She does not want to enter a relationship with you.” he crossed his arms and shot a warning glance at Ned.
Elle snorted. “Oh, sure, like I’m gonna believe that. You just don’t want us to be together.” she sniffed the air. “Hey, Pie Maker!”
Ned froze: he’d been preparing to surruptiously pass Bennet a rolling pin. This woman looked dangerous, but he thought Claire’s father seemed like a more appropriate person to throw her out.
Elle grinned at him. “Gimme a slice of that pie over there … and maybe I won’t kill you.” she winked at him and leapt up to perch on one of the tables. “Sit down, Bennet,” she held up a hand, and blue sparks leapt from them up to a ceiling lamp, making it flicker ominously.
Ned gulped and began getting her a slice of pie, wishing that he was the paranoid type who put alarms under the counter and kept a shotgun with the wooden spoons. He watched as Bennet grabbed a chair and sat on it backwards, bringing to mind the day that Emerson had been informing him on the different kinds of badasses: garden-variety, long-coated … and the chair-straddlers, the most dangerous kind. Ned gulped a second time and set the pie plate on the table Elle was sitting on, wondering if he dared chance smashing it over her head.
She blew him a kiss and began eating the pie, sparks shooting down her fork as she did so. “I must admit, Mr. Bennet, I underestimated you. Hiding your Claire-bear away from me for five whole months?” she waggled her finger at him, suddenly flicking her hand and sending a bolt of electricity at the former-Company man. He fell off of his chair and onto the floor, twitching uncontrollably.
Ned ducked behind the counter, rummaging around for some kind of weapon and thinking every Latin curse-word he’d been taught at the Longborough School for Boys.
“You think you can keep us apart, Mr. Bennet? Huh?” Elle was shrieking. “Well, you can’t! We’re in love, and when you’re dead, you won’t be able to stand in the way anymore!”
Ned decided the rolling pin was his best bet and hesitated, wondering if he could take this chance and side with a stranger with a shady past against another stranger with an even shadier past.
“Face it, Elle, Claire doesn’t love you …” Bennet groaned, sounding as though he was still on the floor.
Elle snorted, and then Ned heard the crackle of electricity again. This time it was accompanied by HRG’s screams.
“Maybe I’ll bring Claire back to the Company … then we could be agents together …” Elle laughed, and from the sound of it, was walking around the Pie Hole.
Ned peered up over the counter. Elle was standing with her back to him and Bennet. It was now or never …
He threw the rolling pin to Bennet, who caught it and immediately leapt to his feet.
Elle turned around …
Ka-THUNK.
… but was unable to do more than open her eyes very wide before crumpling to the floor.
HRG set the rolling pin down on the counter and took a bite of the slice of pie Elle had been eating.
“I’m sure you hear this all the time but … this is phenomenally good pie…”
~*~
Meanwhile, back up in the bleachers of the Darling Mermaid Darlings concert pool area, Claire had returned to the topmost perch to find Olive straddling Chuck, hands hidden beneath the other woman’s amber-colored skirt.
Mouth suddenly dry, Claire stood frozen in the aisle, mouth agape as she watched Chuck muffle a cry into her hand and go limp, tears on her cheeks.
“Ned … Ned …” the former Lonely Tourist whimpered as she slid away from Olive, sobbing into her hands.
Olive looked slightly horrified, still crouching on the floor beneath the topmost bleacher, not even blinking as the man down by the pool announced the Darling Mermaid Darlings’ final act for the evening.
Claire shook herself out of her daze and ducked down under the bleacher with the other women, biting her lip as she did so.
“Look Olive …” Claire sighed and tried not to focus on Chuck’s muffled sobbing. “I really really like you but … I think I was projecting my old feelings for Elle onto you. That’s why I flirted and kissed you and came here tonight. I’d never be so forward with someone I only just met. I’m … I’m sorry. I think I used you, and that’s not fair.”
Olive looked up at her. “I don’t mind. Nobody uses me.” she blinked a few times, sniffled, and rubbed her eyes furiously. “I have so much love and music inside of me, and nobody wants it.”
Claire felt the same sensation as when she broke bones … only this time near the vicinity of her heart. “I’m sure … I’m sure someone does …”
Olive snorted. “No one I’ve seen, and I see a lot of people in the Pie Hole and on those mad capers Ned sometimes investigates. I’m in love with Ned, and he doesn’t realize for years. I’m in love with Chuck, and all she wants is Ned. I’m in love with you, and you’re in love with an electrical stalker from that gray-and-sepia-toned past of yours!”
Claire sighed. She wanted to do something, but she’d never been very good at these things. She’d been moving around too long to forge long-lasting relationships and experience the pitfalls that came with them.
“Hey, maybe I could call my uncle!” she exclaimed, startling both of her fellow waitresses.
“Why? Can he mend broken hearts?” Olive asked, a little hopefully.
“No, but … he dresses a bit like Ned. He even looks a bit like Ned … but he’s got sillier hair.” Claire giggled weakly, realizing how alike Peter Petrelli and Ned were.
“Hmmmm …” Olive considered this. “If he can make it out here, let Chuck and I be the judge of just how Ned-like he is.”
Claire beamed. “Great, I will … he’s kind of a danger-magnet, though … you guys don’t mind danger, right?”
Olive laughed. “No!” she trilled, giving Claire a semi-platonic hug.
Chuck - wiping her tears on her fake-wig - bravely attempted a grin and added “We eat it up like pie!”
~*~
Meanwhile, back at the Pie Hole, Elle Bishop stirred, stood up, and hurled a ball of electricity at one of the lamps. It shattered, sending Bennet and the Pie Maker scrambling under a table.
Flinging bolts along the wall of the restaurant and at the table her quarry was hiding behind, Elle screeched “I’m gonna blow you straight to hell, Mr. Bennet!”
However, before Elle Bishop could blow the Pie Maker and the man called Bennet straight to hell, the door to the Pie Hole burst open for the third time that night: a man in a bottle-green suit stood on the threshold. Undaunted by the sparks flying from Elle’s hands, he drew a spritzer bottle from his coat pocket, aimed, and fired at the surprised blond.
After succeeding in only making her shirt slightly damp, the man in the bottle-green suit hit Elle Bishop in the eye with the contents of the bottle. She shrieked and fell over, rubbing her eyes feverishly for a few seconds, until the man in the bottle-green suit emptied the spritzer bottle into her open mouth, whereupon she sighed lethargically and passed out.
The man straightened up and turned to the Pie Maker and Bennet, who were peering up from behind the table they’d overturned. “My name is Alfredo Aldarisio, recently promoted to Chairman of Myrtle’s Herbals ™. Could you kindly direct me in the direction of one Olive Snook, a waitress in this fine establishment?”
The facts were these: through a series of self-help books and natural intuition, motivated by love for the waitress he’d fixed an espresso machine for, Alfredo Aldarisio went from lowly traveling salesman to Chairman of Myrtle’s Herbals ™ in six short months. At the first opportunity, he’d flown back to the city in which he’d met the enchanting Miss Snook to see if it was possible for her to love him back.
He looked around the room, noting the fresh scorch-marks on the walls, the cracked tiles on the floor, and at Bennet and the Pie Maker, who were still crouching behind the table.
“Gentlemen, you look like you could use some pharmaceutical alternatives …”
~*~
When Ned was a young boy, he had once asked his mother why other boys resembled their fathers and Ned did not. Ned’s mother had smiled sadly, patted him on the head, and said she would explain when he was older. Tragically, Ned’s mother never got to see her son any older, and took the secret of Ned’s father to her grave.
As he grew older and experimented more and more with his ‘ability,’ Ned began to wonder if his father possessed such a gift as well. However, no mysterious stranger with the power to bring dead things back to life ever arrived in the Pie Hole, and soon Ned forgot all about the possibility of his ‘touch’ running in the family. After all, the only person he’d ever considered passing along his genetics with was Chuck, and that was impossible.
And here was a man explaining - in a slow, understanding sort of voice - that his real father had been none other than Daniel Linderman, mob-boss and one of the founders of the shadowy Company that Claire Bennet was so frightened of.
“He was in Vietnam. Healed people on the battlefield. He did some terrible things, Pie Maker, but he also did some good things. I’m sorry you never got to know him.” Bennet patted Ned on the shoulder in what Ned realized was a fatherly kind of way.
“I don’t … usually do this but … could I have a hug, please?” Ned asked, sounding more pitiful than he’d intended to.
The man called Bennet nodded and gave the Pie Maker the very best man-hug he’d ever bestowed in his entire life. Ned sniffed heavily and they broke apart, shuffling their feet awkwardly.
Eventually Bennet cleared his throat. “So, this business of bringing someone back and not being able to touch them again … if you can last a year you’re all set.”
Ned’s eyes widened to the size of Chuck’s cup-pies.
Bennet tilted his head to the side. “No one’s been known to exhibit such restraint before … you’ve gotta remain within a hundred miles of each other for that year … have you and this girl done that?”
Ned nodded, stunned.
Alfredo Aldarisio whistled. “True love … the one emotion we can’t bottle …” he glanced at the kitchen. “I suppose I could return tomorrow -”
At that exact moment, the doors clanged open once again that night. Claire, Olive, and Chuck entered, laughing and singing, then stopped, seeing the destruction that the Pie Hole had suffered.
Bennet stared down at his daughter. “Why are you dressed like a mermaid, Claire-bear?”
Claire looked up at her father. “Why are you dressed like a … Company agent, dad?” she asked, taking a more defensive stance in her slitted tail-skirt.
The sodden woman on the floor stirred again. “Claire …?” she groaned, turning over to look at the assembled crowd by the doorway. “Pom-pom!” she shrieked, leaping to her feet.
Blushing, Claire threw out her arms and cried “Elle-bell!”
Olive peered around Claire’s shoulders. “Fredo?”
The Chairman of Myrtle’s Herbals ™ struck a gallant pose. “Olive!”
Chuck managed to make her way to the middle of the Pie Hole floor. “Hey, Ned,” she waved, beaming at the speechless Pie Maker.
A series of things happened at relatively the same time:
Elle Bishop tackled Claire to the tiled floor, ignored the fact that she’d just given her beloved a concussion, and began kissing every inch of her that she could reach.
Alfredo Aldarisio kissed Olive so passionately that she did not notice when he lifted her from the ground, nor when he began spinning on the spot, or even when her airborne foot ‘popped’ as in old movies. All she was aware of was the jazz music swelling in her head, and how right it felt to be kissed by the traveling salesman.
Chuck’s eyes widened to the size of her cup-pies as Ned came dangerously close to her … and then leaned down and kissed her on the lips.
As Elle and Claire rolled around on the floor and Alfredo and Olive continued to spin, Chuck pulled away and began touching Ned’s hands, face, and neck.
“Am I dreaming? How can we be touching, I thought …” she stood on tip-toes and kissed him again.
Once they’d broken apart again, Ned grinned “Apparently it wears off …” and they started kissing again, for the third time.
“You taste like honey …” Ned whispered in her ear.
“You taste like pie …” Chuck whispered back.
~*~
Sixteen minutes and eleven seconds later, Emerson Cod entered the Pie Hole. He looked around, noting the blond woman who was sparking blue as she rolled her way towards the pantry with Dead-Girl #2; the green-suited man who was proposing to Olive Snook with a ring whose stone was the size of an olive; and the Pie Maker being led upstairs by Dead-Girl #1.
“Figures,” he muttered, sitting down in a booth across from a man wearing horn-rimmed glasses. “I leave them alone for just one day and - is that Apple-Butternut-Butterscotch-Butter-Pecan pie you’ve got there?”
The man with horn-rimmed glasses looked up from the pie he was eating straight out of its dish. “I think it’s a mistake. Half of it seems to be … what you just said, and the other half is Peach-and-Strawberry-Macadamia-Nut.”
Emerson’s eyes glazed over, and a small moaning noise began issuing from his throat.
The man with horn-rimmed glasses raised an eyebrow. “Want a fork?”
“Yes please.” Emerson took the proffered utensil and began digging into the section farthest from the other man. “I haven’t eaten in more than a day …”
After a while, the man with glasses extended his hand over the table. “My name is Noah Bennet, but most people call me HRG. I’m a former Company agent, and I’m looking for a job of some kind.”
Emerson Cod took a more defensive position with his fork. He glanced into the folds of HRG’s coat. “Nice gun-cozy.”
HRG’s hand drifted to it. “It was a gift from my wife.”
Emerson snorted and addressed the ceiling. “Man can’t even knit himself a gun-cozy, and he’s asking for my help?”
“Not help: a partnership.” HRG crossed his arms and watched as Emerson took another bite of pie. “With our combined forces: my agent-training, your local knowledge, my daughter and your Pie Maker … we could solve three-times as many cases as we do flying solo.”
Emerson Cod raised one eyebrow and slowly took another bite of pie - larger, this time. He finished an entire slice, and still HRG did not move. Steadily, he polished off left of the pie, seemingly waiting for HRG to make a move. Then he set down his fork, nodding.
“Man who lets me take his pie is a man I can trust.” he held out his hand. “Welcome to ‘Cod and Bennet,’ the detectives that will do whatever it takes. I’ll have to have a new sign made …”
HRG shook his hand. “But … ‘B’ comes before ‘C’ …”
“Don’t test me, glasses-man.” Emerson said, picking up the empty dish and setting his sights on the rack of pies in the kitchen. “So … you like pop-up books?”
Before the former-Company-agent-turned-family-man-turned-detective could answer, muffled shouts where heard from the pantry.
“Mr. Muggles, are you hiding in one of Chuck’s bee-hive cozies?”
“Get him out of here! The little fluffer’s staring at me!”
There were several yelps, some scrambling noises, and with an indignant bark, Mr. Muggles, Pomeranian with ambitions to rule the world, was unceremoniously flung out of the pantry and into Digby’s doggie bed.
Raising their eyebrows in unison, Emerson Cod and Noah Bennet returned to their pie.
“So, pop-up books …”
The End (please comment, or ABC executives will MOCK YOUR SOUL … oh, wait …)