Inebriation

A/N This little story came about because I started thinking in my (admittedly twisted) mind, how cute Ned would be if he were drunk. Don't ask me how I came up with that, although it might partly have something to do with the fact that Lee Pace and Anna Friel are always saying in interviews that the two characters are never gonna 'get drunk and end up in bed together' so i thought...what if Ned was a little...inebriated? :P Set after the end of the second series, was planning on making it a one-shot, but I want to get some chapters up! Btw, this is not going to hate on any of the characters, because although I believe Ned and Chuck are meant to be together, I love Olive too :) I haven't decided if there's gonna be any Nolive action yet, but i think it's a fair bet there will be. Anyway, enjoy reading, and please review, whether you like it or not :)

Naha x

Ned was depressed. It had been 2 months, 1 week, 4 days, 8 hours and 20 minutes since his girlfriend and childhood sweetheart, Charlotte Charles, had left the Pie Hole, Papen County and, indeed, the country, to go on tour with her mother and aunt, Lily and Vivian, also known as 'The Darling Mermaid Darlings' across Europe. Not that he'd been counting.

Chuck had promised to call every day, and indeed she had been true to her word, phoning every day with incredible tales to tell of life on the road, and rarely had time to actually talk to him. The fact was, he missed her. He missed her physical proximity of being in the same room as him, even though they could never touch, or she would die, again, forever. He missed occasionally (or maybe not so occasionally) accidentally-on-purpose looking up to meet her eyes across the room, knowing he loved her, knowing she loved him. He missed the thrill that brought, and the delicate ballet they played out through every day. He missed her smile. He missed the way she brought new things into his life, every day, opened him up to scary things, like changes and surprises, and showed him that perhaps they didn't have to be so scary after all.

He had been more tightly wound than ever since Chuck's departure, and he knew it; it showed when he was making pies, and serving them; it showed in his relationships with his two best friends, Olive and Emerson (he had barely given Olive the time of day in the first couple of weeks since Chuck had left, perhaps because of some misplaced guilt of once entertaining the possibility of his and Olive's relationship being more than platonic, or perhaps to give poor Olive some very clear signals that, just because Chuck was gone, didn't mean there was room for her in the Piemaker's heart in any other capacity than as a friend).

His private investigating, with partner and professional P.I. Emerson Cod was also suffering, and Ned could tell that Emerson was getting sick of it. However much Emerson pretended to dislike 'Deadgirl' and her insistence (only exacerbated by the Piemaker) that she come along with them on all their jaunts of private investigation, he knew better. Ned knew that the only reasons Emerson objected Chuck coming along with them was because it gave him less of the green paper god he worshipped, due to the nature of a three-way split, and because he always had to be in the room when 'Pieboy and his Piegirl' started making 'lovey-dovey eyes' at each other. In fact, 'Deadgirl' had proven to be a formidable ally and intelligent asset when it came to solving murders, especially when the Piemaker decided to take a temporary retirement from waking the dead. And Emerson's deep-buried affection for Charlotte Charles had become more obvious over the past couple of months, even if it exhibited itself in frustration at the Piemaker's depression and consequent inertia.

At that moment, Emerson Cod himself was making his way to the Pie Hole, mentally congratulating himself on both an excellent date yesternight with dog-trainer Simone Hundin, and a plan he had conceived to jerk Pieman out of his mooning after Deadgirl. Emerson chuckled to himself in anticipation as he neared the Pie Hole. "This is gonna be good," he muttered.

As Emerson neared the door of the Pie Hole, he saw the the sign on the door turned to 'CLOSED' and checked his watch. Hmm. Only 2 o'clock. Still, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. The Pie Hole closed early a lot these days. All the more reason to put his plan into action as soon as possible.

As he pushed the door open (closed by name, not by nature), he saw the Piemaker slumped on a stool by the counter, not even bothering to look up as he mumbled "We're closed."

"It's me, you fool," Emerson hit the Piemaker, none too gently, round his head with the back of his hand.

"Oh!" exclaimed the Piemaker, sitting up in pain, realisation and surprise. Then he slumped down again. "You're not Chuck," he said sadly and a little disappointedly.

"Of course I'm not, and she's not gonna be back until...when'd she say she's coming back?"

"I don't know. She doesn't know. She was meant to be back tomorrow, but the ambassador of Germany came to one of Lily and Vivian's shows and loved it," he said bitterly. "So now they're doing a full tour of Germany." Ned groaned. "And she hasn't called me yet today."

Emerson ignored him, and instead asked "Where's Olive?"

"Err...she went upstairs, something about an afternoon nap," Ned muttered distractedly.

"Well, may as well, since this place is never open," Emerson muttered darkly, causing Ned to look up with a 'Huh?' Emerson took this opportunity to appeal to the Piemaker's full attention.

"Now look here, Ned. You need to stop this. You need to get out of this misery-hole, and back to what you're supposed to be doing – The Pie Hole. Seriously, how many times has this place been closed in the past few weeks?"

"I know, Emerson, I know. I just don't know how!" cried Ned, his frustration seeping through. "I can't seem to shake her from my mind," he ended, slightly pathetically.

Emerson sat down beside him, placing his hand on Ned's shoulder in a rare moment of sensitivity. "Look," he said gently, "you don't have to forget Deadgirl; hell, you ain't got no chance of doing that. But you need to have a bit of fun. You need to get on with your life while she's gone. I mean, you're acting like...it's not like she's died."

"Again," Ned reminded him. He was touched by Emerson's concern; in fact he had never seen his friend at such a loss. Little did he know, it was all part of Emerson's ploy to get the Piemaker back on track.

"I ain't seen you this bad since you told Deadgirl you killed her Pops! But at least that was just short term. This has gone on too long. You're coming out with me tonight, and we're...we're gonna have fun."

"But..." stuttered Ned.

"No buts. You need to live a little! Hell, you've been spending so much time around corpses, you're beginning to act like one. And don't mean one of them that gets touched by a magic finger and comes back to life. We're swapping roles. I'm bringing you back to life. No ifs, no buts, down here, tonight at 8."

Emerson left swiftly, leaving the door swinging behind him, and Ned speechless, wondering what on earth Emerson had planned for that night.