TITLE: One Reveals & One Conceals
SEQUEL TO: The Darling Mermaid's Little Darling
AUTHOR: moonswirl
RATING PG
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, not a petal or a rotten strawberry. It all belongs to its creators and writers (come back! please?), I merely bask in the awesome and bow down to it.
PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS Ned/Chuck; Everyone
SUMMARY: While one discovers a secret, another tries desperately to keep theirs hidden when it's threatened.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I started working on this story a few months ago, but I wanted to have enough of a head start that I could post chapters and not keep you guys waiting while I went on writing. Ideally I would have waited 'til it was done, but since the show starts again tonight (heee!) and I have a pretty good idea of how I'm gonna get to the end, I figured I'd start now. Expect a chapter every Wednesday! (The length of the chapters may be awkward, I didn't structure it with chapters, I make the splits afterward, so sometimes it's hard to find a good place to cut ;) (Okay now I'm babbling zips lips)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I always love to hear from lovely people... that'd be you, if you're reading this... It's my first PD fic, can you tell I'm excited? :D

CHAPTER 1

"You go sit over there."

Emerson Cod had been on his last nerve already as he'd walked into the Pie Hole. What he found there was the one he had nicknamed 'Dead Girl' on task with serving the customers. He found out why as he went in search of the Pie Maker.

He found Ned knocking on a door… again, and again. Before a question could be formed, he discovered who was on the other side of the door.

"Olive, please. I can explain…"

"What did you do?" Emerson sighed. Ned turned to face him, looking to the door again.

"Nothing, I did nothing," he blurted out.

"Do not make me drag it out of you. Right now there should be rhubarb in my mouth and a fork in my hand – but there isn't," he deadpanned. "What did you do?"

"I couldn't stop it," he finally broke. Ned went on to explain what had occurred earlier that day.

The morning had started like any other. The one difference – which he remained unaware of – was that Olive had come in early. Ned went about business, starting on his pies. If there was any particular virtue to be bestowed upon those first pies, it was their ability to give way for memories of his mother.

These early morning tasks had come to be the Pie Maker's routine. And sometimes, as was the case here, routine required no other function of thought. Without such a consciousness, one might not notice they weren't alone, and go about their business.

Olive Snook had come into the Pie Hole early that morning with a purpose. In distraction the previous evening, she had left certain tasks unattended. Never one to be caught in error of this sort, she had taken it upon herself to rectify this situation without anyone to realize a thing was ever out of place.

It was only as she heard the sound of a door shutting that she realized someone else had been on the premises. Frozen on the spot, she considered her options. If Ned was in the kitchen as she suspected, he would no doubt see her get through the door. The only solution which appeared was to take a look in order to find the right moment and make her escape.

Quietly she approached, peering up into the kitchen. As suspected, there was Ned. It didn't appear that he knew Olive was there, which was a comfort. It took a moment for her to realize the oddity unfolding before her eyes.

She saw the motion, picking the strawberries with one hand, depositing them with another, but she didn't look to the fruit itself, not at first. As her eye spotted the next berry about to be grasped, she had to force herself not to reveal her presence in alerting Ned of the fact it appeared rotten, as he wasn't showing any sign of being aware of this. Having finally 'seen' the fruit, she realized several things in the span of three seconds.

In the first, she saw all the other berries on the picking side were rotten as well. In the second, she saw the ones deposited were as perfect as perfect could be, yet they appeared of the same selection as those of the rotten side. But in the third second she discovered why this was.

The Pie Maker picked up the rotten fruit and, before Olive's very eyes, the rotten strawberry gained the perfection of its brethren of the second selection. There was no time for her to swallow this image as it was repeated again, and again… Transcended, Olive continued to watch, until something caught her attention beyond Ned. In boxes by the window, a row of flowers suddenly bowed and wilted.

And then the Pie Maker turned. No one moved, no one could. It could not be told which of the two appeared more shocked. And then…

"Morning, Olive!" Olive and Ned turned, finding Chuck had arrived as well. Ned looked to Olive. Before he could say one word, Olive scurried off into the ladies' room. "Olive?" Chuck frowned as she called out to Olive, in vain. "What happened?" She turned to Ned. He didn't reply, standing frozen still. "Ned?" she tried again and got more silence. Drawn to shake him out of his daze but unable to do so without causing her own death, she removed her shoe and prodded him with it. "Hey?"

"Hey!" he jumped, rubbing at his arm.

"Didn't give me a choice. Now, what's wrong with Olive?" He let go of his arm with a sigh.

"She knows."

"Knows what?" Chuck asked of the minimal statement. He gave a significant look. She appeared to reply with a look of her own, and he nodded. "How did this happen?"

"I didn't know she was here…"

"Has she said anything?" He shook his head. Chuck considered this, approaching the door and pressing her ear to it. "Olive? It's me, Chuck. Are you alright?" No words came. Chuck pressed closer, and then pulled back. "Sounds like mumbling." They stood quietly for a moment.

"What do we do?"

"Give her time," Chuck lightly shrugged. "There isn't much else we CAN do… until she's ready." As silence drifted in, Ned and Chuck had the thought of the night Ned had told Chuck a painful secret on their mind.

"What if she crawls out the window and…"

"She won't," Chuck smirked, and then frowned. "I don't think she would…" she went on, turning to look back at the door.

So, as Chuck had suggested, they left Olive as she was, stewing over what would later be but the tip of an iceberg of titanic proportion. As they waited, business opened for another day at the Pie Hole. Chuck found herself slipping into the apron and the role of waitress while their owner remained in her mumbling barricade.

It soon came to their attention however that there was a flaw to the plan of leaving Olive be. As it was, she had monopolized the Pie Hole's only ladies' room, which the female customers were very vocal to bring up. And so the Pie Maker took up the attempt to draw out the frazzled Olive. It was at this moment that Emerson Cod happened on the scene. Faced with the prospect of this situation disrupting his day further than it already had been, he sent the Pie Maker aside and gave the door a knock.

"Olive," he started, frowning as he stood aware of his audience of hopping bathroom hopefuls. "Two options: You come out, or I go in." The hopefuls hoped for the former. After a moment, there was the click of a lock's release – more hops. The door was opened just a crack, a hand reaching through to wave Emerson in. There was a collective groan. Emerson turned to the women with a glare, pointing to the men's room. "It's clean. Go," he suggested or ordered, however one might perceive. Rather than ponder, the women scurried. Finally Emerson went into the ladies' room, shutting the door.

TBC