Disclaimer: I most definitely don't own Pushing Daisies…
Author's Note: So I thought I wouldn't be updating again this week, but being home sick today, I decided to change that fact…so here's the next chapter!!
Someone to Watch Over Me-
-Chapter Eleven: The Good
Olive Snook shivered as a gust of wind blew through the chilled air of the morning. A thick layer of snow covered the ground and Olive tried not to slip on the iced sidewalk. Clumsily, she clutched the door of The Pie Hole, trying to keep her balance and unlock the door at the same time. She was able to open the door just as she lost her footing, falling into the warmth of the pie shop than the chilly ground outside.
Olive sighed, contentedly, and unwrapped her scarf, taking the garment and placing it on the bar counter before pulling off her coat and her hat and doing the same thing. She checked her watch: 7:30. Thirty minutes until The Pie Hole opened for the day, plenty of time to rest and make herself a cup of coffee. Ned and Chuck wouldn't be down for another fifteen minutes and today was Jonah's day off. Olive smiled and walked over to the coffee machines—made sure they were set—and turned them on. She ran her hand across the marble counter top and yawned, letting her thoughts wander to hours before:
Olive yawned and looked at her watch: 3:00 am.
"Tired?" Jonah asked, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
Olive shrugged and wrapped her arm around his waist, and letting the warmth radiating from his body fill her. "It's three in the morning," she said.
Jonah chuckled. "And you have to be at work in five hours." "Not all of us have tomorrow off," Olive replied, starting to feel a little drowsy.
"You could always play hooky," Jonah whispered mischievously.
Olive pinched Jonah's side but didn't say anything, letting her eyes fall closed; allowing Jonah to lead her as they walked.
The man laughed quietly. "Are you falling asleep on me?"
"You're boring," Olive offered with a shrug.
Jonah smiled. "I am not."
"Jonah, you've been walking me in circles in the cold-early morning for two hours."
"Perhaps I just like spending time with you."
Olive yawned and Jonah could tell it was fake; she tried to suppress her smile.
"Come on, let's get you home," Jonah said, placing a small kiss on the top of Olive's head and leading her towards her apartments.
Olive allowed herself to smile.
The bell above the front door jingled, bringing Olive out of her reverie.
"We're clos—oh, it's you."
"Good morning to you too," Jonah said, walking further into the restaurant. "You sound thrilled to see me."
Olive shrugged and poured herself a cup of coffee, watching Jonah watch her over the steam coming from the cup.
"Didn't get enough sleep?" Jonah asked, pulling her around the counter.
"Obviously," she said, taking a greedy drink from her mug.
In one swift movement Jonah picked Olive up and placed her on top of the counter.
"Would you put me down?" Olive said, shifting forward, ready to jump down.
"No," Jonah replied, placing his hands on the counter on either side of her.
"Don't you have today off?" She asked dryly, when she realized Jonah wasn't letting her down.
"Yes."
"And you're here because?..." Olive motioned her hand in the air, waiting for Jonah to answer.
"I'm here," he explained, taking her mug out of her hand and placing it on the counter, "To do this." With that said, Jonah began to close the distance between the two of them.
Olive held her finger to his lips, stopping him. "What are you doing?"
"I was about to kiss you," Jonah said, against her finger.
"You can't do that here," she whispered harshly.
Jonah stood back slightly. "I can't kiss you here?"
"Someone might see," Olive whispered again, shaking her head.
Jonah looked to his left and then his right. "Yes, you're completely right. The ghost sitting in the corner booth is staring at us," he whispered conspiratorially.
Olive rolled her eyes. "You know what I---oomf."
Before Olive could register what happened, Jonah's arms were around her, his lips on hers. She gasped and immediately melted, instinctively sliding her hands up his arms, around his neck, and threading her fingers through his hair. Jonah smirked into the kiss when Olive pulled him closer; earning him a pinch on the neck when he did so.
"Ahem," Someone coughed from the doorway.
Olive pushed Jonah away and the man turned.
The Pie Maker and Charlotte Charles stood in the door way, Ned's eyes were wide while Chuck's face was lit in a smile.
"Are we interrupting anything?" Chuck asked cheekily.
"No!" Olive squeaked, her voice jumping an octave as a blush covered her cheeks.
"Heh," Ned said as Chuck laughed quietly.
"Well, I should get going," Jonah said. "Don't want to get in your way today when I won't be needed. Bye," He finished, giving Olive a brief kiss and working his way through Chuck and Ned who were blocking the door; Ned refused to move out of shock, Chuck refused to move out of amusement.
"Jonah!" Olive called after the man, even as he left the building. "You forgot to help me down!"
The Pie Maker had many problems.
He hated change. He stammered when nervous or uncomfortable. He was almost always nervous or uncomfortable. He didn't like being touched by people or having people invade his personal space; a trait he blamed on his special gift of bringing the dead back to life with a single touch. But more presently, and precisely at this moment, the Pie Maker had a problem with one Jonah Burke.
"I don't like him," Ned said, pacing back and forth in kitchen of The Pie Hole.
"What?" Chuck asked, licking her finger clean of jelly as she put some on her toast.
"Jonah," Ned whispered, so Olive, who was in the adjoining dining room, couldn't hear. "I don't like him."
Chuck looked amused. "Why not?"
"Because he's so," Ned waved his arms in the air. "There. He's always there. And here. And around."
"He works here, Ned," Chuck said, trying not to laugh.
"That's not what I mean. He's like a fly that you can never get with the fly swatter."
"You've tried to hit Jonah with a flyswatter?"
"Chuck," Ned said exasperated as her stopped pacing, placing his hands on the counter and facing the woman.
"Just asking," Chuck replied with a shrug.
The Pie Maker sighed and bowed his head. "And he's so…touchy feely. They're so touchy feely."
"Ah," Chuck said, leaning back slightly and crossing her arms. She turned and looked at Olive, who was busy setting up the chairs in the other room. She turned back to Ned. "Well they are dating, Ned."
"Well…" Ned looked around the kitchen, as if the sink or the oven would give him the answer he was looking for. "So," he finished lamely when no answer was provided. "We're not touchy feely."
Chuck rolled her eyes. "That's because we can't be touchy feely. In case you forgot…" Chuck touched her own arm, and then fell forward on the table, pretending to die. "Kind of not possible," she said, standing back up again. "Besides, most people consider us to be attached at the hip, figuratively speaking, not literally speaking."
Ned sighed again. "Well, yes but…" His voice trailed off again and Chuck rose her brow. "I just don't like him."
Chuck watched in amusement as Ned began to pace again, his arms crossed tight across his chest. "You want to know what I think?" She asked after a moment.
"Hm?"
"I think you're jealous."
Ned immediately stopped pacing and turned to face Chuck, his eyes wide. "I'm not jealous."
"Sure you are."
"No I'm not."
"Are too."
"Are not."
"Are too."
"Chuck."
"Ned."
The two were silent, staring the other down, waiting to see who would speak first.
"No I'm not."
"Yes you are…and why shouldn't you be?"
"What?" The Pie Maker asked, his eyes wide in disbelief.
"Well, think about it. Olive has been fawning over you for six years."
"Olive doesn't fawn. There has never been any fawning."
Chuck rose her brow.
Ned sighed. "Fine, Olive fawned," he said, shaking his head. "But note the –ed. Fawned. Fawned. As in, in the past."
"And there in lies your problem!" Chuck smiled triumphantly. "For years Olive has fawned over you and now she's not because she's found someone new to fawn over. Therein making you jealous." She finished triumphantly, as if she had just worked an equation out on a blackboard.
Ned's jaw dropped. "I'm not jealous!"
"Denial," Chuck sang, taking a bite of toast.
"You know," Ned said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm a little uncomfortable talking about this with you."
Chuck shrugged. "Just because I say you're jealous, doesn't mean that I am okay with the fact that you are. Even makes me a little jealous. But I can see why you would be, and I suppose that's all that matters."
The Pie Maker didn't say anything, instead, choosing to stare at Chuck.
"Look, you've spent the better part of six years getting a flattering attention from Olive. And now, she's giving that same attention to someone else," Chuck explained again, more amused than anything else. "You just never realized how much you liked the attention. Really, it's enough to make anyone… 'not jealous'." She finished, using air quotes.
"I'm not jealous," Ned said again. "I—I'm suspicious."
Chuck laughed lightly. "Call it what you want Ned," she said, standing. "I'm going to go help Olive."
Without another word—and a knowing smile—Charlotte Charles left the Pie Maker alone to his thoughts.
"Achew!!!"
"Did you just sneeze in my pie?" Olive asked, her hands frozen in midair, ready to place the top crust over the tasty desert.
"Sorry, Olive," Chuck sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Olive wrinkled her nose.
"Chuck, are you okay?" She asked when the brunette sneezed again.
Chuck shrugged. "I think I'm coming down with something," she managed to say before sneezing once more.
Olive placed the dough down and wiped her hands clean before feeling Chuck's forehead with the back of her hand. "Chuck, you're burning up," Olive warned. Chuck sneezed again, managing to hit Olive in the process. The blonde took a cautious step away from the other woman.
"That would explain the…," she said, motioning to herself. "Awfulness."
Olive nodded. "Why don't you go home and rest?" She offered.
Chuck shook her head, "It's really busy out there," she said, motioning to the dining area, where more and more customers began to pile into seats. "I can't leave you and Ned to suffer by yourselves."
Olive laughed lightly. "Ned and I managed by ourselves for years," she said, walking and getting Chuck's coat, forcing it onto her. "Besides, I have a feeling you'll be of more help resting at home then putting the customers in danger of sickness." Olive wrapped Chuck's scarf around her fevered head. "Go out the back door, I'll let Ned know you left."
"Thanks Olive," Chuck said with a sniffle. "Don't let him come up and check on me."
"Why try, you know he's going to want to," Olive supplied.
"Tell him it's too busy and I'll be fine," Chuck paused and then added: "And if he does, tell him I'll cough and sneeze all over his stuff."
Olive smirked. "Will do, now go," she said, shooing Chuck with her hands.
Chuck smiled appreciatively and opened the back door that led to the kitchen and left, a loud sneeze echoing behind her.
Laughing, Olive picked up the, recently, ruined pie and walked to the trash. Carefully, she dumped the contents of the tray into the can, scraping away any remnants of pie.
"Hey Chuck can you---oh Olive," Ned said, stopping when he saw Chuck was not in the room. "Have you seen Chuck? I thought I saw her--,"
"She just left," Olive explained, dropping the empty pie tin in the sink. "She wasn't feeling well."
Ned's face immediately looked panic stricken. "Is she alright?"
Olive nodded. "Felt like she had a fever and she kept sneezing. She'll be fine, just a little cold," she explained with a wave of her hand.
"I should probably go check on her," Ned said, already taking off his apron.
Olive shook her head and held out her hand, making Ned stop. "I was informed to tell you that if you do so she'll sneeze and cough all over your stuff. She said it's too busy for you to leave me by myself."
Ned's mouth fell open.
"Don't give me that look," Olive said, holding her hands up, "I'm just relaying the message."
"But I really should go--,"
"Ned, she'll be fine. All she needs is some rest and she'll be good as new soon enough."
Ned sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose you're right."
"Of course I am," Olive said, walking over to the counter and leaning her forearms on it.
The Pie Maker and the Waitress stood in the kitchen as an uneasy silence slowly began to engulf them.
Ned simply stood, looking at any place that wasn't Olive. Olive, on the other hand, examined her nails, biting them slightly. It was the first time the two had been left alone around one another since Christmas Eve. Olive felt her heart rate quicken and squirmed nervously.
It was uncomfortable and awkward.
"This is awkward," Ned said, uncomfortably.
"It's not awkward," Olive lied. "It's only awkward if we make it awkward," she finished, knowing that would never be the case. She nodded, trying to make herself seem confident.
"Right," Ned agreed, his voice wavering slightly.
They stood.
Olive drummed her fingers on the counter.
Ned coughed.
Olive shifted left.
Ned shifted right.
Olive inhaled deeply.
Ned exhaled loudly.
"This is awkward," Olive finally said, looking at Ned.
"Yeah."
"Right."
"So I'm just gonna--,"
"Yes, and I'll—,"
"Right."
"Good."
Olive quickly left the kitchen as Ned crossed to the sink in three quick strides, picking up a plate and beginning to scrub it; even though it was already clean.
As it has been described before, Olive Snook often felt there was an orchestra in her heart. In the past, the orchestra only spilled forth when she was sad or heartbroken. Usually both, but sometimes either or. In those rare events where she could not control the song from bursting from her heart Olive would sing of sad times and lost loves. And though she sang, now, and the song sounded full of wishing and longing; to Olive, the prayer in the song was well on its way to being answered.
The Pie Hole was closed and Ned had left long ago to make sure Chuck was feeling better. Olive was by herself, wiping down the tables, taking her time, allowing her song to fill her soul.
"There's a somebody I'm longing to see…I hope that he, turns out to be…someone who'll watch over me…" Olive twirled slightly to the next table. "De da dum dee dum dum dum duh dum. La dee, dee da." Olive spun in a wide circle over to the counter and began to wipe it down. "Won't you tell him please, mm hm de dah dum…Follow my lead, oh, how I need…Someone to watch," the bell above the door jingled. "over me."
Olive felt warm arms wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against an equally warm chest. "Hey," Jonah whispered in her ear, before leaning around her and placing a kiss on her cheek.
"Hiya," Olive whispered, smiling.
Olive liked to imagine that everything in the world was good. That every person and everything had a heart of gold; pure and clean, wonderful and beautiful. She liked to believe that even though a veil of darkness always loomed nearby, everything at the beginning and the end was pure and kind.
Olive knew it was optimistic. She knew it was wishful thinking. She knew that nothing in this world was perfect. That everything was, in all reality, far from it. But for brief moments of time Olive allowed herself to believe that it was true. Perhaps not perfect, but as close to perfect as it could get. That, at some points in life, nothing could ever go wrong; because it was cosmically impossible to do so. And as Olive sat across from Jonah at dinner she allowed herself to get lost in that feeling.
Everything was fine and the world worked in harmony…for now.
Author's Note: Well, there you have it! Um...I know I keep saying that this is probably the last update of the week...and this time i think it will be true...unless I'm still sick tomorrow and call into work again...cause then I'll probably write...so who knows...!
Thanks to anyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it!
Until next time,
The Lonely Goatherd