An Apple a Day...? Chapter 4/?
Title: An Apple a Day...?
Rating: PG (language)
Pairing: I can't tell you that; it would give away the entire plot!
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or Pushing Daisies or anything related to them, sadly. Oh, how much fanservice I'd provide... The BBC owns Doctor Who and ABC owns Pushing Daisies.
Premise: The TARDIS crash lands in Olive Snook's living room. Chaos ensues. XD
Spoilers: DW (Doomsday), PD (Kerplunk!)
Word Count: 1,906
Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3
The Doctor hadn't intended to snoop, but Olive had left him alone in her apartment for much longer than she had the first time she went to fetch him a slice of pie. He had wandered out of the TARDIS to take a closer look at her living room. Digby initially followed the Doctor around but eventually got bored and nuzzled up against the pillows on the sofa and watched him from there.
Olive had told him not to break anything, so he strolled around the room with his hands planted firmly in his pants pockets. He learned a lot about Olive in the following five minutes just by using his other senses. She was born in September; an uneventful pregnancy. Her parents were more like DNA-donators; she was raised by nannies and was an only child. A championship-winning jockey, she no longer owned any horses or went riding at all. He would have to ask her about that; there were no clues about that change in her life. She didn’t have any photos or books or records that held any information about her teen years.
He stopped by the bookcase and examined a small photo attached to a plaque that read "Pie Hole Employee of the Year 1997 : Olive K. Snook." Her hair was long and wavy, but still blonde, and she wore a similar orange dress to the one she was wearing today. She looked much happier, though. The Doctor adjusted his spectacles and leaned closer. He sniffed the plaque. There was a lingering scent of pears. He could taste the fleshy fruit and wrinkled his nose; he much preferred banana.
Digby let out a quiet yip and hopped off the sofa. The Doctor watched him scamper over to the door and wag his tail. He wondered vaguely if Olive had returned with more pie. Would she bring more key lime or -- his eyes lit up -- banana pie? Suddenly the Doctor felt like wagging his tail. He bounded over to the door and pulled it open.
There was no petite blonde standing in the doorway with a fresh slice of fruity pie, but the door to his right was open. He quickly glanced around, examining Olive's apartment complex. The building didn't have hallways; all the individual rooms were open to a large atrium. Very Roman.
Digby cried quietly. The Doctor looked down at him thoughtfully. Olive hadn't mentioned neighbours, but Digby seemed to know whomever lived in this one. He grinned. Perhaps it was this Ned person; Digby was his dog, after all.
The Doctor slouched in the doorway and peered into the open apartment. He focused his senses and looked around the corner. He saw a tall man, better built than this incarnation, but with similar hair and eyes. The man wore a black tee underneath a thin gray cardigan, and he smelled of... strawberries! The Doctor decided right then his favourite human food was pie. Pies of all kinds, even pear. The pie aroma was so sugary sweet and enticing, it wafted over him like a cloud, he could taste the flaky crust, feel the grind of the strawberry seeds against his teeth, see the vibrant red juices...
He folded his arms over his chest and leaned his head back against the door jam. His tongue twirled around the fork, which clicked against his front teeth. The man grabbed his sunglasses and stopped in his doorway to stare at the Doctor, who pulled out his fork and tapped his forehead with it. "'ello! Miss Olive Snook will be coming back soon, right?"
***
The Doctor grinned as he rang the bells. He closed and reopened the door two times before Olive shouted "Hey!"
"Sorry!" He bounded over to the counter, sat on one of the stools, spun around once, then rested his chin on his hands with his elbows propped up on the counter.
"I should not have given you that pie!" Olive groaned, taking a pie out of the oven and setting it on the cooling rack in the corner. Cherry.
"Why not?"
"You're a sugar fiend, that's why not!" She burst into laughter. The Doctor didn't quite see what was so funny. His thoughts were running a light year a minute. When had he left her apartment? Why did the Pie Hole smell like the Xanthro plant? The exterior of the Pie Hole was a pie. He grinned; humans were so witty. Olive had called him on her apartment phone and asked him to come downstairs. Demanded was more like it. He could still taste the pears. He wrinkled his nose. Where was Digby? Digby looked like honey. Honey was delicious. Delicious! That pie was delicious! Could he get more of that pie? No, Olive Snook would never give him another slice of pie. He pouted. She was staring at him, bewildered. Olive, that's a fruit. He wondered vaguely if anyone had ever made olive pie. Or tomato pie. He didn't fancy tomatoes all that much, but he'd probably give tomato pie a chance. Not a second chance, but definitely a first chance. Mmm, blueberry. Now, he did fancy a blueberry pie. He idly tapped the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Olive was no longer staring at him. Where'd she gone? Ooh, people! Where was Digby? Digby looked like honey! He could hear the vibrations of bee wings -- there were bees nearby! Were there roses, too?
Rose.
The Doctor's brain grinded to a screeching halt; he could almost feel his brain collide with the front of his skull. The sugar rushed out of his system and he crashed, hard.
***
The Piemaker filled his lungs slowly and deeply and exhaled as he pressed the button that rang the doorbell of the Charles women household. He listened, but only heard the barking of a large dog down the street, two squirrels chatting it up in a nearby tree, and a neighbour's rocking chair on a nearby porch. He twiddled with the twine tied around the wooden pie box. The ends of the twine began to unravel in between his fingers. He felt the sun on his back, shifted the pie box to one hand and rubbed the back of his neck with the other. There was movement in the window; Ned just barely saw a hand disappear behind the curtains. He rang the doorbell again.
"I just --" his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and started again. "I just wanted to see Chuck -- uh, Charlotte."
Before he had a chance to add "I promise I won't steal her away," a rifle was thrust through the mail slot and pressed against his crotch. His jaw dropped, his eyebrows rose, a whimper escaped his throat.
"Lily, stop it! He just wants to talk! We'll stay on the porch! I won't leave again, I promise." Chuck's voice wafted through the door; Ned felt his heart pound faster; her voice was like... like... well, like honey. Sugary sweet and smooth.
"But we don't trust him any more, Charlotte." Vivian's voice was barely above a whisper.
"I'm not letting that bastard anywhere near my daughter again!" Lily cocked the gun and Ned gasped. He wanted to move away from the door but knew Lily wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. Afraid to breathe, afraid to make a sound, Ned's legs began to tremble and he blinked back tears. He never imagined he'd die on a porch. The Piemaker wasn't going to die, of course. Well, not right this moment, anyway.
"Hi."
He hadn't noticed Chuck open the door and slip out onto the porch. He looked down and noticed the rifle was no longer in the mail slot and his genitalia were safe. For now. "Hi."
Ned quickly moved away from the door and plopped down onto the bench on the porch. He set the pie box down beside him and Chuck sat next to him. "I'm sorry, I tried to come by sooner, but your aunts -- "
Chuck placed a gloved finger on Ned's lips and smiled. He glanced down at her hands and smiled back; she wore delicate white Victorian-style gloves. They sat there, on her aunts' porch, smiling and staring at each other until Vivian's second favourite macaw squawked loudly at them from inside the house. Ned started, then cleared his throat. "Chuck --"
She shushed him and motioned for him to sit. "I know you've tried to come see me, I've been here, begging them to let you inside, they're really upset, understandably, they thought I was dead. And I love how you've sacrificed yourself for me --"
"I --"
"Shush, let me talk first. Then you can talk. Okay?"
The Piemaker nodded and murmured his assent.
"Ah!" Chuck held up her finger. Ned smiled. "I always put your happiness before my own -- well, most of the time -- and I still can't believe you pretty much kidnapped me and drove me here. Their faces when they saw me... and Lily's when she saw the wine..." She smiled and looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. She sat in silence for a moment, and Ned's left leg began to bounce idly. Chuck rested her palm on his knee, and he stopped, a blush flooding his cheeks. The Piemaker turned to look at her. God, she was gorgeous, especially with the sunlight bouncing off her wavy chestnut hair like that. "Ned, you know I love you, right?"
Ned nodded, still under the assumption he was not to talk.
"My aunts want me to go to Europe with them on their tour!" Chuck beamed and went on about how happy her aunts were, how she'd always wanted to go to Europe, how she was excited to speak Swiss German, and how she loved Ned for setting this up for her aunts and reuniting the three of them, but all the Piemaker heard was "go to Europe." The smile slid off his face and his heart dropped from his chest to his stomach. He couldn't breathe, just like less than two hours ago. He tasted metal and realized he had bitten his tongue.
"Chuck --" his voice cracked and he tried to swallow his tears. "I --"
She frowned upon seeing his reddened eyes. "Aw, Ned, don't worry about me, I'll be fine." She took his hand, laced her gloved fingers with his, and squeezed gently. "I won't let anyone murder me this time. I'll be extra careful. Maybe Olive can come along as an assistant and Emerson as a bodyguard! They have an official manager now, but you could still come..."
The Piemaker slowly shook his head. "I can't go... the Pie Hole... Digby... your bees --" His voice faltered and he glanced down at their clasped hands.
Chuck smiled weakly. "Normally I could convince you to do almost anything just by smiling and batting my eyes at you. That's not going to work this time, is it?"
Ned shook his head and Chuck's eyes darkened. "When do you leave?" He was surprised by how disinterested and impatient it sounded. "Sorry."
"Ned, you know when we're leaving, you booked the flight."
He swallowed and stared, wide-eyed, into space. "Tomorrow."
"Yep." Chuck nodded and rubbed the back of the hand she was holding with her free hand.
"Your happiness before my own."
***
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This chapter seems really long compared to previous ones. I included three sections since I wrote two in a row featuring the Doctor. =D