A/N: Thank you to all my readers!

Here it is… the chapter we've all been waiting for… we finally learn what the big deal was with Chuck's secret! :)

Note – I apologize in advance for my horrible attempts at writing a French accent "Fleur Delacour from Harry Potter" - style roflmao.

Enjoy!

CHAPTER FIVE

Ned shuffled his feet awkwardly as he and Emerson stood motionless in the entryway of the tiny morgue. It felt like they were waiting for something, but Ned couldn't figure out what. He glanced sideways at the P.I. "Um… How long are we planning on standing here?" He asked.

"As long as it takes for me to figure out what I'm gonna say." Emerson responded through his teeth.

"Well, why don't we just tell them that the D'Aubigne family hired us to investigate Dominique's murder? …Death, I mean." Ned didn't want to be too hasty with his assumptions.

"Yeah," Emerson gave him a fake, cheery smile. "Which would be easy as pie… If I could speak a word of French!"

"Pie's not easy." Ned replied, his tone slightly defensive. "And… 'Oh'." He added. To be honest, he hadn't even thought about that little obstacle until Emerson brought it up.

"What about you?" His friend asked. "You take any French lessons back in the day?"

"Je ne parle pas Francais." Ned replied, horribly butchering the pronunciation. "Chuck taught me that." He explained. "It's slightly less embarrassing than nodding stupidly and giving blank stares to anyone who talks to me."

Emerson sighed. "Wish I'd thought of it sooner… I would've invited Corpse Bride to come along and translate."

Ned shook his head. "She came all this way just to see Lily and Vivian." He glanced at his watch, realizing that, on the other side of the city, the show was already underway. "I couldn't do that to her." He said simply.

"Alright, well we can't just stand here forever." Emerson straightened his tie. "We'll wing it – Let's go."

They quickly discovered that "winging it" was more difficult than Emerson had anticipated.

"We – Are – In—Ves – Ti – Ga – Tors!" He shouted in the coroner's face for the third time. The man stared back blankly and said nothing. "Help me." Emerson muttered harshly to his companion.

"Um… We." Ned pointed to himself and the man beside him. "Investigate." He mimed looking through a magnifying glass. "Murders." He made a horrific gagging sound and closed his eyes, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

The coroner looked from Ned to Emerson and back again. He nodded once.

"Does that mean he understands?" Ned asked out of the corner of his mouth.

Emerson rolled his eyes impatiently. "How the Hell am I supposed to know? …Keep goin'!"

"Right. Um… Dominique D'Aubigne?" The pie maker mimed using a rolling pin and stirring a spoon, then pointed toward the door that lead to where the bodies were held. "We'd like to talk" He pointed toward his mouth. "To her." He pointed back toward the door, eyeing the man hopefully.

Emerson cleared his throat very loudly.

"Look. Look!" Ned frantically pointed toward his eyes. "We'd like to LOOK at her… Her body, I mean." He pointed toward the door yet again and smiled nervously.

The coroner looked them up and down for a long time, making Ned extremely uncomfortable. After what felt like hours, he finally nodded yet again.

Ned let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you… I mean, Merci." He corrected himself hurriedly.

Emerson nodded politely toward the coroner. "Come on." He muttered to Ned, his smile instantly vanishing. "Let's get this over with."

"Um, actually…" Ned hesitated a moment. "I was actually kind of hoping I could do this one alone…" He shrugged, smiling sheepishly.

Emerson did not return the gesture. "No way that's gonna happen. Last time I let you go in alone with a body, you came out with Dead Girl!"

"You make that sound like it's a bad thing."

"Well it was at the time!"

"Look… I promise, I just want a chance to talk to her alone. Nothing else is going to happen." Ned assured him.

Emerson knew the pie maker well enough to recognize that he was being sincere. He seemed to be teetering for a moment, and Ned started to worry until he saw Emerson begin to slip and, finally, give in. "Ohhhhh fine. Go ahead." He sighed heavily, waving a hand toward the door. "But make it quick." Emerson's voice dropped to a whisper. "This guy's even creepier than the one back home… It's making me nervous."

Ned shook his head, amused as he headed for the door. "I'll be back in a minute." He said.

The threat in Emerson's voice was unmistakable. "Yeah, you'd better be."

XXX

"You were magnificent!" Chuck cried happily as she burst through the dressing room door and raced forward to embrace her still-wet mother and aunt. "I think it was one of the best routines you've ever done!" It had been so long since she'd seen them perform that Chuck had almost forgotten just how much she loved it.

"Thank you, sweetheart." Lily smiled widely at her daughter. They had not been expecting to see Chuck until after the show, but she had somehow managed to sneak her way into the dressing room just at the start of the intermission.

"Just wait until you see the finale!" Vivian said excitedly. "Believe it or not, Olive helped us with the choreography… who knew she had such talent!"

The petite blonde smiled proudly from the dressing room's couch.

"Yeah," Lily agreed, "It's a shame… maybe if she had a bit more grace than an elephant trying to roller-skate, we could let her be part of the show."

Olive stood, crossing her arms. "Now, to be fair, have you ever actually seen an elephant roller-skate? Do you actually have any basis for that claim? 'Cause if you don't, then that insult is completely invalid and has no effect on me." She said firmly.

Chuck couldn't help but laugh. "Good point, Olive." She agreed.

Vivian suddenly smiled at her niece. "You haven't heard from Ned, have you?" She asked her hopefully. "He and Emerson must have finished up at the morgue by now… maybe they'll surprise us and make it for the second half!"

Chuck bit her lip and glanced up at the clock on the wall. She alone knew that Emerson and Ned had most likely just arrived at the morgue a few minutes ago."I haven't." She answered truthfully. "But they're both really sorry they can't be here… well, Ned is, at least." Chuck corrected herself. "I'm sure they're just busy with the case." She assured her.

"Well you just be sure to tell that husband of yours that he missed the show of a lifetime." Lily laughed.

Chuck smiled back at her. "Don't worry, I will." She glanced at the clock a second time. "I should probably head back to my seat and let you two go change… break a leg out there!" She gave each of them one more quick hug before finally scurrying out the door and making her way back toward the sold-out seats.

Though Chuck was overjoyed for Lily and Vivian and was, of course, thrilled to be seeing them perform, she could not help the sadness she felt when she gazed out into the stands and saw not only her seat, but the one beside it empty. The weight of her secret already made her feel isolated and distant from the pie maker. So being actually isolated from him was, consequently, that much worse.

When she got closer, Chuck was surprised to discover that her seat, at least, was not empty. There was a single sheet of paper, folded neatly in half, waiting for her. She could feel her heart begin to race as she picked it up and saw a single sentence, written in very familiar handwriting. Look to your left.

Chuck peered out over the crowd, searching, until she finally spotted him – on the other side of the pool, just beside the back doorway, stood a man dressed all in black. He beckoned her to him, his smile just barely visible beneath several layers of bandages. Chuck recognized him immediately.

"Dad…"

XXX

Ever since his teenage years, Ned had spent countless hours envisioning the perfect meeting with Dominique D'Aubigne. He had created dozens of different scenarios, planning out exactly where it would be, what he would say, and even what he would wear. His eyes scanned the dimly-lit metal room, glanced down at his boring black t-shirt and jeans, and finally came to rest on the still, lifeless body that lay in front of him. The pie maker was fairly certain that even in his wildest imaginings, it was never quite like this.

I can't just stand here forever, he told himself. If he waited much longer, surely Emerson would burst into the room in a panic and ruin the meeting that he had been looking forward to for more than half his life. With one last deep breath, Ned set his watch, lifted his finger, and touched her.

Dominique's eyes fluttered open instantly, taking in the room around her. Ned noted that, rather than appearing scared or confused, as most victims usually did, she simply looked annoyed. She muttered something under her breath in French, and several small puffs of white powder escaped her lips with each word.

"Uh… Hello! Ms. D'Aubigne?" Ned began nervously. "Wow, I really wish I could shake your hand or something…"

She peered intently at him as he spoke. "Oh. Eetz you again." She muttered, her English heavily accented, but intelligible.

"Huh? No, no… we've never met." He smiled. "I just wanted to tell you that you're my inspiration. I mean, I've dreamed of being just like you ever since I was a kid and I saw your cooking show for the first time… the American one. 'Sweet Treats with Dominique'? Y'know, I always thought it was funny how the title never really rhymed…" Ned glanced down at his watch, realizing he was already wasting precious time.

"Um, I actually graduated from one of your schools about ten years ago…" He continued, speaking faster and faster with each word. "I even own my own bakery now… well, restaurant-slash-bakery, really. Anyway, the point is that after all these years, I'm finally living out my dream, and it's all because of you. So, uh… I guess what I'm trying to say is… thanks." He ended lamely.

Dominique still looked rather annoyed, but her expression had softened ever-so-slightly. "Well zank you." She replied. "Eetz nice to know zat zere are zome young people out zere who truly appreziate zee culinary arts."

Ned coughed sharply, having inadvertently inhaled some of the copious amount flour that now filled the air. He waved the puffs of white powder out of his face and looked at his watch yet again. Nearly half their time was already gone.

"Ms. D'Aubigne," He said suddenly, his voice frantic. "We really don't have a lot of time, so if you know anything about what caused your accident… or murder… Do you think it could have been a murder?" He asked. "Anything you could tell me would help."

The woman rolled her eyes at him. "Eez zis zee Spanish Inqueezition or zomezing? I 'ave already told you people, eet waz no accident. I do not weesh to discuss eet again. Ask zee ozzer ones."

Ned's eyes widened. "Ozzer –er, other ones? Y-you mean someone already woke you up? After you were dead?"

She nodded "Oui."

The pie maker's face suddenly went several shades paler – and it wasn't because of the flour.

XXX

"I still can't believe it's you!" Chuck smiled, laying her head on her father's shoulder. They were huddled together in the narrow alleyway behind the large swimming arena, sitting on a large wooden crate (which, according to its label, once held bottles of chlorine). It was a little cramped and rather dirty, but Chuck didn't care – she finally had her father back… again.

"I know, Button." Charles Charles squeezed his daughter gently. "Me neither." He sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to write more." He said softly.

"Eight postcards in two years… That's not much." Chuck admitted. "And you never gave me a return address…"

"I feel terrible about that, honey. I've just been moving around so much, I never knew where I was gonna be next," Her father explained. "But let me tell you, it was awful, never being sure whether you were getting them or not… I mean, let's face it – your life's in constant danger. For all I knew, you could have been –"

"But I'm not." Chuck cut him off before he could finish the thought. She could tell by the tone of his voice exactly what he meant. "I'm fine." She said, a bit softer this time.

Chuck should have known that it wouldn't take long for the conversation to take that turn. But she wasn't ready to argue with her father about her relationship with the pie maker. Not yet. She unconsciously moved her left hand off of her lap and out of sight beside her, grateful that he had not yet noticed the one-and-a-half carat diamond that sparkled there.

"Well," Her father continued, deciding, for the time being, to not press the issue. "What matters is that you're here now." Charles smiled at her.

His daughter said nothing for a few moments, hesitating. There was a burning question on the tip of her tongue, just begging to be asked. A part of her feared ruining this perfect reunion with her father… but ultimately, her own curiosity and worry won out.

"Daddy?" Chuck asked softly, sitting up and reaching into her purse. "I wanted to ask you something… about your letter…" She slowly pulled the crumpled and folded postcard from her bag and glanced down at the now-fading words that she had read and re-read so many times.

Hey, Button!

Guess where I am right now. That's right – My favorite city in the world! Wish you could be here to see it with me. I miss you so much. Y'know, I hear the Darling Mermaid Darlings are having a show here next month. That'd sure be something to see, wouldn't it…?

What do you say, Button? Up for finally having an adventure with your Old Man? I ran into an old friend I think you'd be interested to meet. We all know ol' Deadly Nedly learned to cook from his mom. But did you ever wonder where his other "talent" came from?

Hope to see you soon. Wasn't 20 years long enough the first time?

Love you,

Dad

XXX

Ned continued staring at Dominique in stunned silence for several more moments until he realized he was running out of time. Could there really be someone else out there, just like him? The thought was too good to be true.

"Can you tell me anything about them?" He asked hurriedly. Dominique had barely fifteen seconds of life remaining.

"Well… Zere were two of zem… a very strange one weeth zomezing covering heez face. Bandages, I zeenk." She paused. "And zee ozzer one… I thought you were 'im. You look almost zee zame. But 'e waz older..." Dominique finally gave him a genuine smile for the first time. "And 'e wazzn't as tall, of course… or as handsome. 'E almost looked like 'e could be your –"

Ned pulled his finger away sharply and stared in horror at the woman's once-again lifeless body, finding himself unable to breathe and feeling as though his heart, too, had stopped beating.

XXX

Chuck stared at her father expectantly, anxiously awaiting some sort of reply. Please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong She thought frantically, trying to come up with some other explanation for her father's cryptic message.

Charles appeared to be planning his words carefully as he gazed into his daughter's eyes. Finally, he took a deep breath. "About that… Honey, you won't believe –"

"Well, well, well… if it isn't little Charlotte!" A figure had suddenly appeared at the mouth of the alleyway, almost entirely hidden in shadow.

Chuck's eyes snapped upward toward the source of the voice – one that she hadn't heard in more than twenty years. Oh God…

"Or do you go by 'Chuck' now?" The man continued. "My boy still calls you that, doesn't he?" He laughed softly to himself as he spoke.

Chuck sighed miserably as her worst fears suddenly came true. Ned is going to kill me…

A/N: Cue the very dramatic, cliff hanger-y "dun-dun-dun-dah-dah-dah-dum-dum-dum-DUM!" Pushing Daisies music. Hahahaha.

Advance warning – we are getting close to the part of the story where I really don't have it planned from there on… so it's anyone's guess (including my own) how exactly things are going to turn out! I have a couple of different routes it could take, and I'm toying with several ideas at the moment… we shall see!

Thank you for reading, and please review! :)