I S-PIE
A Pushing Daisies Fanfiction
by hairsprayheart
Chapter One: When It Rains
It was a rainy day at the North Thrush Longburrow School for Boys. On this particular rainy day, it was particularly gloomy. It was enough to inspire in the hearts of all the boys, and perhaps even a few of their teachers, a bout of homesickness.
This was especially true in the case of young Ned, who remembered a time not so very long ago – his days back in Cour d' Cours, where rainy days were spent eating his mother's Rainy Die Pie with the girl called Chuck and fabricating wild tales. While the rain formed puddles outside, inside, pirates ruled the high seas; gold-laden ships were sunk in the living room, and delicious booty was taken in the kitchen. While the air grew wetter outside, inside, ruthless outlaws robbed stagecoaches in the barren Wild West and enjoyed strangely palatable cacti. At any given moment, he could list one of their imaginary adventures. He remembered Chuck's laughter, his mother's demure smiles. He remembered, more than anything, feeling loved and happy.
But here, the only thing he felt was his perpetual loneliness, as continual as the rain. And he could not imagine anything but being able to see again the things and people he had once defined as home.
.
"I hate the rain," Chuck moaned, seating herself at the Pie Hole's counter and looking at its owner with considerable dejection. He gave her an understanding smile.
"Well, I sure don't," fired back Olive cheerfully. "Doesn't it just make you feel like singing?"
"Not particularly," the Pie Maker said. "I'm gonna go with Chuck."
"Of course you will," Emerson Cod grumbled, flashing a mocking smile that almost instantly vanished. "Now would y'all stop yammerin' already? I'm tryin' to concentrate."
"Don't hurt yourself," Olive muttered under her breath, cranky at being left out.
"I heard that!"
"What'cha workin' on?" Chuck asked pleasantly, mediating, as usual. "Got a new case?"
Emerson grunted.
Also, as usual, he was reluctant to include Chuck in his business endeavors.
"Sharing is caring," she pushed.
"Hmph."
From his position at the oven, the Pie Maker shot him a baleful look.
"All right," he huffed, slamming shut the thick book he had been staring at intently. "But it could get a little hairy."
"Ooh, I like hairy," Olive grinned, intrigued.
Chuck nodded her agreement with wide eyes.
Emerson rolled his eyes.
The facts were these…
One Darius Edwards, manager of the local Bradley Milton Game Company distribution center, aged thirty three years, eight months, one week, and twenty-two days, was found outside the Papen County Detention Center, with paper money stuffed in his mouth and a pen bound in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. Dead.
"I don't get it," Olive said promptly.
"Maybe it was some sort of payback scheme," Chuck suggested. "Somebody owed money to someone on some broken contract, and that someone wanted the other somebody to go to jail, or die, or both."
"Well, we ain't gonna know unless we go find out."
Emerson shot a look of his own at the Pie Maker. The Pie Maker ignored him and plopped the pie he had just pulled out of the oven in front of Chuck.
She smiled as she took a bite.
"I remember this. Rainy Day Pie."
Ned beamed, while Olive tried to suppress a frown and Emerson gagged.
"Is this some sort of inside thing that I don't want to know about?"
As the two gazed at each other, he rolled his eyes.
"Darius is still dead, and my wallet is still hungry," he snapped at Ned. "Even though she isn't either of the two. Now let's get goin'!"
"Can I come with?" Olive questioned eagerly, anxious to get something else on her mind than the pair of lovebirds.
Emerson gave her a withering glance.
"Oh, pleasepleaseplease," she pleaded, tugging on Emerson's coat sleeve.
"All right," he grumped. "I'm gonna regret this."
The others followed him out to the car, Ned and Chuck careful not to get too close to each other as the latter savored her last bite of the pie.
.
"Hmm."
This was the first thing the coroner said upon seeing the four enter the morgue. He noted, with a surprisingly straight face, the matching rain coats they sported.
"Hiya!" Olive said, with a small wave.
He grunted.
Emerson slapped a roll of bills into the man's hand and he unlocked a door.
"Oh. My," Olive said softly upon seeing the still sheets and cold tables. "I don't know if I can take this part. Maybe I should go outside."
"I wouldn't mind," Emerson quipped.
"Me neither," Ned added. "No offense."
"None taken," she said, with a tiny smile she had to struggle to maintain as she hurried out the door.
"Okay. Now we can get down to business," said the detective eagerly.
Ned took a deep breath and started his watch before leaning forward to gingerly touch the forehead of Darius Edwards.
Unable to take the usual first breath that came of being un-deaded, Darius began to choke violently. Unfortunately, the wadded-up papers in his mouth were inhibiting his breathing, and he was unable to remove them due to his still-bound hands. Ned glanced helplessly at Emerson, who only put his hands up. Chuck quickly moved forward and pulled out the papers while Ned watched her with a mixture of jealousy and gratitude.
"Oh, thank you," Mr. Edwards gasped, using up precious seconds to regain his breath. He flashed a smile at Chuck.
"Thirty seconds," Ned growled, with more urgency than intended.
"What happened?" asked Darius. "Is this a game?" He grinned. "I like games."
"No, I'm afraid it's not a game, Mr. Edwards," Chuck said solemnly. "You get to go to heaven now. Are there any last wishes you would like to share with us?"
"Oh. Tell my kids about the scavenger hunt map for their Christmas presents. It's in my safe. They know the combination."
"How sweet," Chuck cooed.
"Just ask the man who killed him!" Emerson cried.
"I was killed? Oh, I'm afraid I don't know by whom. The last thing I remember was a flash."
"A flash?" Emerson and Chuck questioned simultaneously, but something else flashed as Ned touched Edwards again.
Emerson groaned.
"Can't we ever have a nice, normal, easy case?"
"Well, we already do kind of have an advantage," Ned pointed out defensively, still envious of Darius' contact with Chuck (even though he was presently dead). "Besides, if I hadn't done it, that – " here he pointed to the body – "could have been one of you."
"Yeah," Chuck piped up. "Maybe it's some kind of karmic interference."
Emerson made a gesture as if to zip her lips shut. "Will you stop with your blabbity-blabbing? It's already caused me enough trouble."
Chuck shrugged apologetically as the trio walked back into the lobby area of the morgue. Olive looked at them in anticipation; the coroner said, "And?"
"Well, ah, we weren't, erm, able to… divulge any information. At the present," Ned stammered awkwardly.
"Mmm-hmm," he replied, not convinced.
Olive, appearing disappointed, followed them out back to the car.
"That was fast," she commented.
"No need for it not to be," Ned mumbled, slouching into the driver's seat. Chuck was about to call shotgun when Emerson stared her down menacingly and she meekly joined Olive in the backseat.
"So, nothing good?"
"Nope," Emerson said flatly.
They were silent on the drive back to the Pie Hole. When they returned, Ned flipped the "closed" sign to the open side and unlocked the door. A slight guilt plagued him, knowing that he had spending gradually less and less time within it. But he had just gotten so busy…
"Ned?"
"Hmm?" He looked back at Chuck's inquisitive face, peeking out from under her giant umbrella.
"You're thinking about something."
Emerson, getting wetter in the falling rain, rolled his eyes and pushed his way past Ned into the Pie Hole before the moment could get any more mushy. Olive hastily followed suit.
"Sometimes, life is just crazy," he said simply.
"I know," Chuck smiled.
They stood outside together for a moment in the rain, just looking at each other in content silence.
"I really want to kiss you right now," she whispered finally.
"Me, too."
"The plastic wrap's in the upper left drawer," she added with another grin.
"Then what are we doing out here?" he teased. He opened the door for and went after her inside.
Emerson sipped his coffee and read a newspaper, but Olive observed their entrance coolly.
And outside, from under the cover of their own umbrella on the other side of the street, someone else was also watching them…