dragojustine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dragojustine) wrote2008-09-08 03:59 pm
dragojustine) wrote2008-09-08 03:59 pm
Entry tags:
Pushing Daisies fic: Mother of Invention 3/?
Mother of Invention 3/?
Ned/Chuck, this part G, 400 words
Part 1 2
Okay, fine. It's a WIP.
Emerson has a case, something routine ruled a suicide by the police but the family is in denial on that front and offering a reward. He doesn't grumble when she smoothly insists on coming to the morgue with them tomorrow, and that probably means that Ned was indeed in a state over her disappearance. She keeps her glove on his arm the entire time, eating her Boisonberry-with-Ementhaler-crust awkwardly one-handed. Her shoes knock against his under the table, and that is all the apology she can manage with Emerson right there.
When Ms. Hawkins, one of the lunchtime regulars, asks which pie she loves today, Olive snaps "Oh, just throw a dart!"
Back in the kitchen, Chuck tucks her gloves into her belt and flours the counter. Ned is babbling, and she wonders how long she should let him go. Sometimes he seems to just feel better if he runs at the mouth for a bit, but sometimes it only gets him more worked up.
A good pie crust is delicate. Once you start touching it, to shape it and roll it out, the timer starts ticking down fast. The fundamental rule is to touch the pie crust as little as possible. Is that why he picked pies? She suspects it was something else.
"--not like I wouldn't want that to happen again, because I would, but you know it won't, right? Because it's really important for you to be safe. Around me. From me, I guess, but that makes me sound like some kind of freaky axe-murderer, and I'm not, so let's say safe around me. It's really important for you to be safe around me. So that's never going to happen again, and I'm so sorry if you felt like you had to, because you don't. Because I don't want you running away again. I mean, it's not running away, really, because it's not like you're some teenager or a puppy or something, it's not like I'd call the police or put up little signs on telephone poles, but I want you to be able to stay. And people only run away when they don't feel safe--"
Obviously, that was long enough. "Ned, shut up."
Chuck would swear she heard his teeth click together. "We're going to make pies. And then, after the store is closed, we're going to talk. Not before then."
Part 4
Ned/Chuck, this part G, 400 words
Part 1 2
Okay, fine. It's a WIP.
Emerson has a case, something routine ruled a suicide by the police but the family is in denial on that front and offering a reward. He doesn't grumble when she smoothly insists on coming to the morgue with them tomorrow, and that probably means that Ned was indeed in a state over her disappearance. She keeps her glove on his arm the entire time, eating her Boisonberry-with-Ementhaler-crust awkwardly one-handed. Her shoes knock against his under the table, and that is all the apology she can manage with Emerson right there.
When Ms. Hawkins, one of the lunchtime regulars, asks which pie she loves today, Olive snaps "Oh, just throw a dart!"
Back in the kitchen, Chuck tucks her gloves into her belt and flours the counter. Ned is babbling, and she wonders how long she should let him go. Sometimes he seems to just feel better if he runs at the mouth for a bit, but sometimes it only gets him more worked up.
A good pie crust is delicate. Once you start touching it, to shape it and roll it out, the timer starts ticking down fast. The fundamental rule is to touch the pie crust as little as possible. Is that why he picked pies? She suspects it was something else.
"--not like I wouldn't want that to happen again, because I would, but you know it won't, right? Because it's really important for you to be safe. Around me. From me, I guess, but that makes me sound like some kind of freaky axe-murderer, and I'm not, so let's say safe around me. It's really important for you to be safe around me. So that's never going to happen again, and I'm so sorry if you felt like you had to, because you don't. Because I don't want you running away again. I mean, it's not running away, really, because it's not like you're some teenager or a puppy or something, it's not like I'd call the police or put up little signs on telephone poles, but I want you to be able to stay. And people only run away when they don't feel safe--"
Obviously, that was long enough. "Ned, shut up."
Chuck would swear she heard his teeth click together. "We're going to make pies. And then, after the store is closed, we're going to talk. Not before then."
Part 4
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Still counting down the days....
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(Less than three weeks!)