Part 2 | "Rummy"

Olive Snook was 8 years, 11 months, 38 weeks, and 47 days old when she stole her first memento on purpose.

It was in the antiques shop she had followed her mother to that she saw the bone white teapot and orange lace designs on the darling accompanying cups. She waited for her mother that talked to anyone for hours without end but her to begin a conversation with the cashier-owner, and when she did, young Olive tucked the many little cups inside the pot, hid her treasures behind her too-large jacket, and fled for home.

"Where have you got there?" asked her father at the front door.

Olive wanted to burst with euphoria that her father had known she was gone, so much so that he asked because he cared that she'd been gone, but the feeling did not last long. Her father's old friend beat her to the doorstep.

"Brought some pizza and fresh wine. You know I always bring treats."

"Perfect! We have too much catching up to do."

Thus, young Olive carried her stolen goods and her broken spirit up to her room, where she unloaded them both. Filled with the urge to speak to someone yet being too angry to weep, she decided to try hosting a tea party like other blond-haired and rose-cheeked girls did on the tele.

The pie waitress to-be turned her room into a party, with Mr. Patch-Eye Candyskull being the baronet of the event alongside Miss Mutant Piggy, Duchess Rainbow Clops, and about five more of their peculiar friends.

While Olive nattered and splattered cooled apple juice from teacups with her friends, she realized she could distract herself out of her pain.

That tea party was far from her last, and when she met the Pie Maker her brimming teacups were joined with pie binging because he was in love with a girl named Chuck.

She did not know if the "falling in love with Chuck" part should occur again, but she did know someone else needed a binge like hers.

#

"See Scar, here is the left side of the Pie Hole. People sit and eat here too, just like the right side. Some people like to order coffee or tea but there's something about this side that makes them order more tea."

"And cappuccinos. Very popular on the left side too, especially the left side of the counter. Mornin' Scar! Welcome to the Pie Hole. I see Chuck's been showing you around."

"Oh, you know I couldn't resist. Got the dishes done?"

"Yup."

"Great, and thanks, I almost forgot about that contraption. Wanna try a cappuccino, Scar? It tastes like silk and smooth electrons in your mouth, with a little jolt of ecstasy, especially if Olive makes it."

"Mhm, I'm the Mother of Drugless Baristas. One cup will cheer you right up."

"Drugless Barista meaning there are Druggist Baristas?"

"If special brownies exist then special coffee does too... Don't give me that look, I ain't making either."

"...Right. So Scar, do you want some?"

Their stranger they called Scar who they should have been calling Tom who was in truth Loki, the fallen prince of Asgard, slumped and stared into the floor. The empty gaze of a boy lost light years away infuriated Chuck's stomach acids until they fermented up and overflowed into the tail end of her esophagus. Her nosey fingers wrapped tighter around unresponsive ones, and towed them along with her forceful trek onward.

"Okay, what do you think about here? This is the counter. From here you can see Digby in the kitchen and Ned not cutting up butter bars anymore. Hey Digby, wave a paw for our new buddy... Good boy! See, even Digby likes you."

"Hard not'a like that face though."

"Touché mi cherié."

"Ugg. Stop fawning, both of you. People are eating pie."

"Would you look at that, we've summoned the Great Pie Maker. He's fussy about public image."

"And a whole bunch of other things."

"I have a right to be fussy. For one, stop dragging him around everywhere please, it looks abusive. Two, I thought we made a deal that we wouldn't call him Scar. And Olive, there's more dishes to clean if you're done mumbling."

"No, I just finished—hey, you smudged them with apple syrup and butter fingers!"

"Did not."

"I'll clean them in 20 minutes."

"They could stain."

"I'm on my break, shush."

"Olive, do I really look abusive?"

"Well yeah, I mean he isn't exactly following you out of free will. Kinda dragging behind."

"Sort of tripping..."

"...even crawling with your especially determined yanks. Mhm."

At their honesty, Chuck let go of the prince's stone hand, ignoring the gnawing butterflies burning through her marrow at how it would be colder away from hers. "I'm so sorry, I thought I could distract you from the hurts. Umm...here, you can sit if you'd like."

He did.

The fallen prince of Asgard fell like an uprooted willow to wallow alone. With his crossed arms being his gates a-top the counter and spilled locks his velvet black curtain, he sat unmoving while the others could not stop their stirring.

"Awww. I wish I could just rip all that pain away... Hey, Emerson."

"Dead girl... What's the matter with weeping widow?"

"He's weeping."

"I can see that, Pie Boy. What I don't see is any of you tryin'a stop her."

"Come on, be considerate. He's a long way from home. Olive, would you make two cappuccinos please? I'll sit with him."

"Sure thing."

"Thanks. Don't freak out New Buddy, it's just me getting the hair out of your eyes so you can breathe in your little crying cave, okay?"

"Uh-uh, don't be startin' all that coddlin' and motherly nonsense. Just 'cause he's far from home don't mean he can come in here and cry a river into my pies. People come here for a good time, not to watch someone sob."

"At least he's sobbing silently..."

"Really? You too now Pie Boy?"

"Hey, sometimes we all need to sob. I personally applaud him for not trying to look all macho when he doesn't feel like it."

"You let your twin brothers sob like that then?"

"They're people, Emerson. People have hearts that hurt. And actually I would considering no one let me sob my heart out when I needed to."

"Harrumph."

"Okay, here's one for you, one for me, and one for Scar."

"Oo! Looks yummy. Did you add sugar?"

"Yup. Made Scar one with some caramel too. I think he's bitter enough already."

"Good call. Hey Scar, look at what Olive made. It's all frothy and fluffy and look at all those adorable swirls on top. Yummy! ...Don't make me massage your back, come on... I'm getting up... I'm touching your back..."

"Olive, get me some triple berry a la mode before I snap all your backs."

"Gee whiz, I'm going to break my elbows massaging you."

"You can wait, Cod. Maybe our new buddy needs a tummy massage."

"Oh no."

"Nice. Wonderful. You sure he don't need somethin' with more of an, ehem, happy ending?"

"EMERSON!"

"Ignore the sore thumbs. What are you thinking, Olive?"

"Maybe some pie would help."

"By 'some' you mean a binge with ice cream?"

"Hella!"

"Yes! Quick, bring him a little bit of each kind."

"On it."

"Woah woah woah, hey, do not give him one of everything. That is a waste. Olive!"

"This is a serious emotional crisis that requires binging, honey. I'll help you bake more."

"I'm not liking this. Not liking this at all."

The counter became a rainbow army of waiting golden-crusted delicacies once the Pie Waitress returned from her three trips.

"Look at all that yummy pie. Oh, and there's the bucket of ice cream: cool mint with chocolate chips... Come on, buddy, please try some. I promise it'll make you feel a little better."

"Chuck, I don't think forcing him is going to—"

"I'm not forcing him, I'm coaxing him. Which is your favorite pie? I promise Ned made it in heaven. We have apple pie, peach pie, rhubarb and blueberry/strawberry pie, persimmon pie, kiwi pie... No? Okay, um, how about pear or key lime or blueberry or triple berry or peach and apple with cheddar crust, or, or, some cup pies with honey crust?"

"Chuck..."

(Charlotte sighed.) "Can I at least see your eyes again if you're listening?"

He complied.

"Awww…"

"Hey, lemme talk to him. You crying too isn't gonna make him feel any better."

"O-okay."

"Hey bud! Hi. You look like serious crap. I remember feelin' like you, heck I even looked worse than you, but you know what I did?" The Pie Waitress took his hand and closed it around his wafting cappuccino cup. "I tried to not let it be my bully. I don't have a home to go back to. And Chuck, she kinda can't go home just like you. Emerson and Ned don't act like it but they have a missing home too.

"Ya know what I say to that then? You're in real good company. We're all still alive, barely kickin' sometimes, but still alive. So raise that cup and take a sip. Join the kickers."

The girl who grew up with negligent parents and the one who could not return to hers raised their own cups for a sip. For a moment it seemed they had helped the fallen prince swallow his pain, but they set their joy down when he set his cup down.

"How 'bout you and Chuck help me with the orders then? It'll be a good distraction."

"Good idea. C'mon buddy, you can watch me do it a few times."

"He's not exactly in a professional mood. He could upset my customers."

"When are we ever? He'll be fine. I'll just...wipe away those tearstains, fluff back his hair, stick my little Pie Hole pin right here and voilà! Good as new. Let's go shove some exceptional customer service down everyone's throats."

"Meet you around. I'll whip up some coffee."

"...Mhm. This exceptional customer service is comin' out of my throat already."

"What? Don't look at me like that, it's not my fault she's such a good person."

"Imma look at you all I want 'cause you made a compromise to keep him. Stranger is not some lonesome dove cooin' around that you could pick up and keep in a nice little cage."

"I know that—"

"Apparently you don't 'cause all you've been doing is tellin' her not to force not-snuggable-hyena into anything."

"Hyena?"

"Yeahhh. They're nature's finest actors, sniveling and sulking one minute and the next cacklin' like witches with their claws ready to scoop your eyes out."

"Well what do you want me to do then? Kick them both out?"

"Yes. Or at the very least pretend to be a passive aggressive leader of the pack for once."

"Umm, boys, have you seen that coat before?"

"Not now, Olive. Emerson and I are busy having a little domestic."

"There you go again making me look like I'm the bad guy for tellin' you the damn truth."

"Okay, first of all I am the leader of the pack who recognizes a non-threat when he sees one. Just because I'm not too fond of him doesn't mean I have the right to show that."

"Huh, that's funny. I'm recallin' the little fact that he somehow managed to turn a field upside down without flinching a muscle."

"Ned, around the corner—"

"So he has some phenomenal gift. He isn't the first. You could at least be a bit more human and not demonize a person so quickly when you don't understand him."

"Can I call 'im a bat then?"

"I'll compromise on raven only. Second of all, you are telling your truth, not the truth. If he sprouts claws and gouges anyone's eyes out I will be the first to—"

"Lily alert Lily alert!"

Emerson the Private Investigator and Ned the Pie Maker froze.

"Chuck!"

"Dive, woman!"

It was in the nick of time that Charlotte Charles dove indeed into her nearest safety. Lily Charles, her mother who believed Chuck had died months before, took the place by storm.

"Holy—"

"—Hell"

"—Heim."

"You are a horrible small business manager, Beaver Boy. What gives?"

Olive Snook, Emerson Cod, and Ned the Pie Maker whirled respectively. Charlotte Charles had found her hiding spot behind their Stranger on the left side of the Pie Hole. With her back against his and fingers clinging to strong black leather, she waited while Loki, being the wall hiding a reveal that would crush the mother's spirits, partially emerged from his spiritual exile at the unexpected development.

"I. Can't. Breathe."

"Whatever. You, Snook, get me a pear pie and some string cheese. We need'a talk."

"S-s-sure. Um. Here. But we don't have cheese, sorry."

"None?"

"We have tart apple with cheddar."

"Get me that one then. And hurry up... What you gawking at, Cod?"

"Just...choosing a pie here Miss Charles."

"Good. I'd go with the persimmon. Got a healthy color to it. Hey, Ned! Move your long legs. You've got other customers waiting."

"Um, um, right. I'll just...coffee..."

"Here ya go. Tart apple with cheddar."

"Finally! Took you long enough. Now listen, I need you to chat with Vivian's crush."

"Oh?"

"He's a greedy, heartless bastard trying to find Charlotte's watch for heavens knows why. If Vivian so much as tells him a clue I'm gonna rain down hellfire on everyone."

"Okay. What do you want me to chat about?"

"I don't know. Bring a pie and move that big mouth of yours. All I need to know is who the hell he is and what the hell he does. I'll finish him off."

"You're referring to chasing him off as 'finishing him off,' right?"

"Ha. Refer however you'd like."

"Ooh, huhu... Where's the interrogation going down?"

"My place at 4. Thanks for the pie. Got to go pick up Vivian's dress. If you see her don't tell her I was here."

"Gotcha."

"Beaver Boy, your apples are a bit overcooked... Who's this?"

"Uhhh... Potential employee."

"He's not in uniform."

"I was...interviewing him. My thoughts lean towards hiring."

"Looks a bit passive aggressive for this place, don't you think?"

"Yeah..."

"Huh, I like him. Y'all need some balance. Too damn bright in here half the time. I'll catch you later, kids."

With the confirming chime that the door had closed, the friends could breathe again.

"I feel like I just sprouted three hundred and ninety-two grey hairs."

"Oh yeah? I feel like throwing up my heart."

"Ehem. Right. Keep your ailin' bodies to yourselves. Smalls, get me my proper pie would you."

"Yeah...yeah. I'll do that."

"Chuck, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Ned. Dizzy but okay. Thank you thank you thank you, Scar. You don't mind me holding your arm for a minute do you? Wow, I didn't see that coming."

"You two should just get back here in case. Scar can have his pie and you can recover from your momentary vertigo just in case your—"

The sound of the Pie Hole's doors opening again in an almost equal force of hurry stole their breaths.

"Ned, there you are. Where have you been?"

"Uh...Vivian."

"A simple hello would do, dear. Have you seen Lily?"

"He-ello. No. Why would we see Lily?"

"Because she had that scheming look about her last night after dinner. Anyways, may I chat with Olive for a moment?"

"Sure, sure, she's...somewhere."

"I'll just look for—Oh, well hello there. Is this a new hire, Ned?"

"I was—yeahhh, his name's Scar."

"Good to meet you, Scar. I am Vivian Charles; come here for bites quite often. Ned is a friend of the family. Are you a...theatre boy? You have a marvelous costume."

Loki the not-theatre-boy did not so much as pretend to be humored, which caused Vivian Charles to fumble into a social interaction fog.

"I think the proper thing to do next is give you a hug but I am not very sure. Are you a homeless youth if not in theatre?... Oh don't be offended, it is not a situation to be ashamed of. My niece Charlotte once had a darling of a friend in high school, a homeless girl whose name was Livia. She is still one of the strongest persons I have ever met. Point being: you can choose to let the fire refine you or the ashes define you, but I still feel I was horribly rude. Here."

To which Charlotte Charles barely contained a yelp and fell against the protection of their Stranger's legs covered by tattered, dangling green velvet and black leather while her aunt Vivian hugged he who remained as stringent as an arrow. The single factor that still hid the niece and daughter who was supposed to be dead was his unruly hair, making Aunt Vivian keep her eyes closed.

"Forgive my prodding, I had no right to ask. May I buy you a pie? I find Ned's pies lift all moods no matter how intense. I sure do hope you will hire him — Ned? Is something the matter?"

"I was - I - my hand's been twitching."

"I hope that is not a sign of developing carpal tunnel syndrome. You should be more careful when you're rolling out dough."

"Aaaand when I'm holding a pitcher full of coffee."

"I'm sure the coffee will forgive you for spilling it."

"Ehem, Miss Charles?"

"Yes? Oh hello, Emerson! I didn't see you."

"Yeaaah, hi! Olive's feelin' a little under the weather today."

"Oh, the poor thing. I hope she will be alright."

"Yes ma'am, she will, once oxygen gets back to her brain."

"Pardon?"

"She's just having a very stressful day, Miss. Personal...matters."

"Alright. When she feels better then let her know I and my beau will be here tonight. (And that I have just the perfect pain medication.)"

"What?"

"It is a womanly matter, Mr. Cod."

"..."

"I'll tell her. Can I get you a pie?"

"No thank you, Ned. I will save my appetite for tonight. Anyhow, I still need to have my hair done. Have a good day! Nice to meet you, Scar. I hope to see your lovely self around."

When the door closed, their mouths hinged open. All eyes minus Olive Snook's looked to the still Charlotte. It was Ned that neared her breathing citadel made of epidermis and osseous matter not of their world.

"Chuck?"

He found her clinging to Stranger's costume extensions, appearing more than sick.

"Chuck, come on. Let me take you home." She did not stir. Ned dared to meet the eyes of her protector, but the unchanging coldness in those tourmaline blues froze him in place. With all the quiet grace of a guardian, Stranger turned and picked her up as if despite his lithe appearance, she weighed nothing more than a feather, which is quite the truth.

"I can take her," the Pie Maker protested, but Stranger continued towards the kitchen, where he tucked her in between a sunlit corner and the golden-hearted golden retriever named Digby. He took her trembling hands one by one and curled each finger around his own lukewarm cappuccino cup.

All Charlotte Charles could do was take a messy sip. It warmed her thus that she did not mind the sticky droplets dripping off her chin. Neither did her newest friend.

One minded it all and more. "I think it's time for us to close up. A lot has developed today."

"A lot meanin' Stranger stepped on your toes."

"No, a lot meaning he was the single thing keeping Chuck's aunts from seeing her... Okay, fine, and that too. Gosh, get off my toes!"

"As much as past me wants to say 'I told you so,' you can't close. Somethin's cookin'. That Dwight Dixon's makin' a move we need'a know more about."

"And we will once Olive comes back with gossip bites. End of story. I'm tired. Let's all go."

"You ever stopped to consider maybe she ain't goin' to find out anything we don't already know?"

"No, boss, because I have clocked out for the day. Goodbye, have fun drinking coffee from another man's cup, all of you."

"You calm them piping chords, Jealous Johnson. You ain't makin' anything better by pouting about you not having the bigger balls here."

"Woah, woah, woah, rewind. What did you just—"

"Ned, Emerson's right."

"You're agreeing?"

"Yes, we need to plan something to learn even more than what Olive can."

"Right, good, okay… But listen, Olive's going to find out about Dwight when she takes a pie to your aunts' place, so much so that we won't have to worry another second about him. We are not going to do anything else. Besides that, are you okay?"

"I will be if you let us plot our own twists. Come on, honey, think about how behind we'll be if we don't have one and Olive doesn't learn much else."

"Hmm. I wanna say dejavu."

"Emerson's right about that part too. There, happy boss?"

"Very."

"Ouch... Okay, toes are moving, fingers bending, heart pumping. Okay."

"Hey Olive. Feeling better?"

"Never better. You?"

"Pretty great no thanks to Ned."

"Hold on, I—"

"Shut it, boy."

"Okaaaaay... Did Vivian leave?"

"Uh-hu. Now you shut it too or help our plotting."

"What're we plotting?"

"How to trick my Aunt Vivian and her date into spilling some beans."

"Huh, sounds trippy. My pops used to underhandedly interrogate people while playing poker."

"And there goes the lightbulb! Ned, the Pie Hole's having a game night tonight!"

"Ooo games! I love games."

"...I hate everything."

"No poker, I ain't feelin' like being a stand-in cop."

"What's another card game everyone knows?"

"Ruuuuuummy! Please say yes please say yes!"

"Olive, calm down. People are eating pie."

"Sorry."

"Rummy! Young and old folks can play. I used to play momma all the time."

"Reel it in, kids, this ain't no field trip. How we gonna get Dwight to talk?"

"Well, Olive will be serving, Ned managing, you and I will be hiding somewhere keeping tabs, which leaves us with... Scar? Are you up to helping me again? Please?"

"Hell to the Helheim no, Chuck."

"Why not?"

"Look. At. Him. One: we don't even know if he talks."

"He has an out of this world screaming voice actually."

"Fine then, two: none of us know who he really is."

"Says the one who hired him."

"I was improvising! See, this is why I don't improvise; it always blows up in my face."

"Do you have another argument point to add?"

"Actually, I do. Three: he glares at me like he is right now whenever you're not talking."

"Maybe he sees something about you we can't see, like just how useless your stubbornness is."

"Or maybe he's thinking about how to skewer all of us while we sleep."

"Woah. That escalated quickly..."

"Reel it back in the both of you. Jealous Johnson's turnin' into Paranoid Patrick, Pie Boy. And you, Clingy Cathy, calm them hormones. Now listen, this is what we're gonna do: Stranger's going to be a waiter with Olive so nothing'll be looking suspicious, Ned you'll be walking around like a normal manager, and I will play the cards. Dead girl, you'll hide somewhere. You bring a notepad and take notes. Everyone understand the game plan?... What, Cathy?"

"Just a question. Can I work on decorations?"

"Does it look like I care? Bake special pies if you want to, I just wanna gut the truth out of that rat."

"Me too!"

"What, Olive?"

"Can me and Scar go get some card packs then?"

"Go birdwatching, take a flight to Alaska, get a room, I don't care. But you'd better be back before dinner."

"K. Come on, bud, it's adventure time!"

"And Ned will get into baking special pies, won't you honey?"

"I guess..."

"Still ain't sure, Johnson? Good. You can get me a cappuccino then."

"Haha, sucks for you Mr-I-Can't-Work-the-Cappuccino-Machine!"

"I need to stab something anyways..."

#

"So that is how I ended up working at the Pie Hole. From jockey to job to another until I landed smack-dab into the place I like to call home. Yup, that's my story. Do you wanna share? Sometimes it helps to take some pressure off your chest, you know?"

Though their Stranger walked of his own accordance and held his head higher than a 30-degree angle, his languid somberness made it clear that he did not wish to share.

"That's okay, nobody's ever going to force you to do something when you don't feel you can. Whenever you feel like you can share though, I will be right here. I mean not HERE here, as in at this obnoxiously giant Metropolitan Mall, but always somewhere around the Pie Hole ready to lend a shoulder if you're ready for it.

"Now that that's out of the way – it wasn't in the way by the way, that is just a rather rude figure of speech – would you fish out the decks we bought please?... Geez, how deep are your pockets in that costume?"

The flicker of a humored stare met hers, which made the Pie Waitresses's cheeks color into roses.

"Look at you! That was quite a little mischievous glance. Maybe soon I'll be catching you smiling, huh? Okay, so, one, two, three, four, yada, yada, nine. Four of Toy Story, three of My Little Pony, and two of Adventure Time. Each was 99 sweet, spying cents! Now we just need, eh, ten more. We'll get them at Pop Topic. They have literally everything for fandoms. Which reminds me I need to get my hands on that new Loki T-Shirt.

"I know what you're thinking with that look: he's the bad guy, would turn you into dust before you could even talk, blah blah, but for one second don't judge. He's my all-time favorite character because he's got problems, you know? He tries to make everyone happy even when he's not happy and he tries so hard but no one understands that and those two hard facts are more human than Captain America himself... My heart's all achy just thinking about the first time I saw the end of the first Thor movie when I was, like, five. Imagine that. I was five but I understood the pain behind his devilish smile and cold, cold blue eyes. It must be so terrible to just want to let yourself die...to choose to die... Anyways, we fans of his are a select minority as you might be expecting, and by 'select minority' I mean there are thousands of us just quietly loving that little sarcastic, devious, achy-breaky brat. But aside from the cinema Loki, the new comics version is smoking, like, smoking. K, now you can judge all you want.

"Scar? Where did you – oh, there you are. When did you stop walking?... Are-are you okay? You look like a cat slashed your vocal chords and you can't cry because you're too shocked. Do you need some hydration? I think the food court's right after this next...store. Oh. My. Goodness. Look at that! C'mon run! ...Oh thank you God for your blessings. Look at this, Scar! New and matching waiter and waitress outfits. Ha, are you my lucky charm or what? And, and—lemme just fix this shirt up against you here—holy smokes it fits! Do mine fit? Ahhhh mine do too!

"Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow. I cannot believe this. Hey, sales chick!"

"Good afternoon and welcome to Sashay Uniforms."

"Yeah, yeah, hi. How much are these?"

"$60. Each set includes shirt, pants, and waiter or waitress skirt."

"Who designed them? There's no brand."

"There was a box of seven inside that we found in our delivery today. No name, address, number, anything. Stunning quality though, that's for sure."

"And the silk skirt! Oh my gosh. It feels just like Digby's cozy tail. Are orange and green the only colors it comes in?"

"Yes. Dress pants come in black only, dress shirt in light moss green, and the skirts in same green and lively orange asymmetrical stripes."

"This is just too good to be true. Scar, we're bringing sexy back! High five! ...You don't remember what that is? – Hehe, he was in a little car accident so he's kind of spacey."

"Riiiight... Will that be all?"

"Yes, thanks."

"Have a great day."

"Scar, I'm serious. Seriously! No, don't give me that look. I'm not joking or crazy. We'll both wear this and it'll look so normal no one would know we're undercover... Don't tell me you thought I wouldn't be spying with you. I'll have you know I helped Chuck sabotage another business all with my epicness-ery. Yes, that's a word. Come on, imma pay and then we RUN run to get the rest of the decks. I'm doing your hair... Don't smolder, I ain't letting you go out there with your hair like a bird's nest."

And as the woman that was up to the middle of his chest grabbed his hand and ran like lightning across the glistening tiles once their new uniforms rested in a festive monochromatic shopping bag, Loki Odinson felt a faint shift in his frozen heart, but he pretended it was nothing more than adrenaline.

He could not, however, pretend the line stretching out of the fascinations store called Pop Topic did not surprise him.

"Darn it, they literally stocked the shirt two minutes ago! You stay here. Hold our bag. Things have to get ugly. I'll be right back.

"Excuse me..."

"Hey, stop pushing!"

"No, I need my baby's shirt."

"Lady, calm down."

"When you've been a fan for twenty years then you tell me to calm the hell down."

"Oi, I was here first!"

"Good one, fledgling. Move!"

Acid burned Loki's frosted throat.

#

"Alright. I fixed all the decorations and lights. You have the pies ready?"

"In a minute. I'm baking the last batch right now."

"Joining!... Aww, look at your adorable flour nose."

"Haha, very cute. I got it everywhere."

"Not a big deal. Pie Hole's closed with a fancy sign on top, so when you're ready we can clean this all up and then run on home to touch ourselves up."

"Mm?"

"You look so much more innocent than you actually are."

"Mm-hm... I'll start cleaning up."

"Ned, you know I do love you, right?"

"Of course. Why?"

"Because I say the wrong things, meaning I don't tell you that often enough."

"Chuck, we talked about this. Four times. If anyone should get the blame for earlier then it's me and my raging jealousy. After all, you and Emerson are right. This is a much more solid plan of interrogation than Olive on her lonesome. I don't trust that guy with any of my friends."

"There's so much more I want to talk about, but I just want to tell you that I love you."

"I love you too. Speaking of other things, would you mind heading home now?"

"Course not. What do you need?"

"Bring over my record player and a Secret Garden vinyl or two. I want to set that up too. You can change while you're there."

"Okay, I'll be right back."

"Oh and bring Digby a bow tie too!"

"Will do!"

That was how Charlotte Charles found herself star-struck in her and the Pie Maker's own home. There, I'm the midst of tossed, dusty, rustic clothes stood her breathing fortress.

"My my..."

"Hey Chuck! How do you like it? We got a matching mysterious pair from the mall. Scar, could you lean back a little bit? I need'a clip in some flying strands. Thank you!"

"...Wow. I don't even know what to say."

"I know, right! It's like this thing was made for him or something. Okay bud, stand up straight like you're ready to be James Bond... He's a super secret spy. There you go! Lemme take a step back and – Wowza, you shine like a new penny."

"Oo, he came so close to smiling at that."

"He'll smile real soon. I warned him already, and it is now on my prayer list. You two keep each other company. I've got to finish getting ready too. Holler if he smiles!"

"I will! You tell me if you need help with hair... Wow, I'm sorry for staring, buddy, it's just I was not expecting – I mean wasn't prepared for you to look like, like, what's the word? I think I'm trying to say 'prince'. The messy man bun though, now that just makes you look like a handsome hipster. All you need is nerd glasses.

"Oookay, back to getting our machinations ready. Where's Ned's vinyl player?... Oh, there it is, nice and covered. Just blow off some dust – muy bonita! Could you hold it please? Thank you. Now to find the vinyls. You know my Momma, Aunt Lily, she had all these classical ones playing all the time I didn't know other genres of music existed—oh, here they are. Secret Garden, Secret Garden... Bingo. Two should do.

"Anyways, the first time I found his player and let it play I was so shocked to hear popular music blaring from it. Haha! Ned told me I made quite a face. Ahh, so many good memories with my aunts."

Though he said not a word, Chuck combed out the question lingering like a nervous tick behind the prince's halcyon eyes.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation to what happened earlier, don't I? Here, sit. Would you like some flavored sparkling water? It's a pretty long story... Well, well, aren't you modest. I'm pouring you some anyways.

"Here you go. Yeah, just set that on the table. We'll take it down to the Pie Hole together. Now let me think. Where to start?... Ned and I were neighbors when we were kids. We both had a puppy crush on each other. We'd play our games, sell lemonade, draw on walls, smear makeup all over our faces, everything. Then one day Ned's mom and my dad died. That's a story for another day. My aunts Lily and Vivian took me in; Ned's dad picked him up.

"Time went on and we never saw each other again, he at the boarding school his dad left him at and me taking care of my shut-in aunts... Then I decided I wanted to go on an adventure – Tahitian getaway. It was a shady traveling agency. I ended up strangled to death, floating in the ocean... Isn't that funny? The first time I did something for myself, I died because of it. First times are so misfortunate. I don't know, maybe it's my curse... Anyways, Ned and Emerson were hired to solve my death, and Ned touched me back to life to ask what happened.

"He let me live longer than a minute, so someone else died. We planned out my funeral, nailed the guy who killed me for two bricks of gold, and went on living together, but my aunts don't know. We can't tell them or Ned's gift—Olive doesn't even know about it—could get him locked inside some CIA experimental chamber..."

(She sighed.)

"I miss my aunts, more than words can say, but I love him. We can't touch or I die again forever, but we have a hearty love; we've figured things out. The least I owe him is to keep his gift close to base – he gave me a second chance at life after all. I suppose I figured I could tell you because you're not much of a stranger to magic. I know that much for sure... You've already spotted something different about Ned haven't you?"

Loki Odinson's lips curved to one side, at once warm like a soul tipsy on compassion, and cold like a mind fixated on calculating impossible possibilities. His finger of living ivory pointed to her.

"Me? I don't... Oh, you mean there's something different about me?"

He nodded, the impossible possibility calculated thanks to her spilling the value for one of too many missing variables.

"What about Digby? Do we have some sort of aura?... Our eyes? What about them?—"

"K buddies, I'm ready! How do I look?"

"Lovely, Olive. I'm kind of jealous I can't wear one of those uniforms."

"Don't be. I picked out a little black dress for you. You'll look beautiful in your note-taking shadows. Now c'mon, let's finish you up too."

"Yes, ma'am! Scar, would you look for a bow tie for Digby while we finish?"

And as Charlotte Charles followed Olive, she felt her heart shutter in ache. She squeezed her hands and turned to catch sight of her Fortress, lest he fade into the twilight winds of memory a few hours too soon.

#

"Olive! What a surprise. Come in, come in."

"Thanks! Evening Vivian, Lily, sir. Isn't the weather just so beautiful tonight?"

"Yes it is. Dwight still wants me to wear a jacket though."

"Of course, sugar, I wouldn't want that porcelain beauty of yours to shiver. It would break my heart."

"Hush now, you're making me blush."

"Oh brother. Big mouth, where's the pie I ordered? I need'a wash down the vomit with something other than vodka."

"Yeah, about that, I wanted to—"

"What a lovely uniform, Olive dear. Is there something special happening at the Pie Hole?"

"I was just about to tell you, yeah. I wanted to personally hop on over and invite you all to a very special night. Ned and I baked tons of special pies and prepped the whole place for a game night."

"That sounds swell; don't you think my little mackerel? Let's get a move on. Ned makes the best pies in town."

"Yes, let's. Lily, will you be coming too?"

"I'd rather die drowning."

"Suit yourself, then. See you soon my Olive."

Once the two lovebirds left, Aunt Lily rose. "I told you to bring pie and move that mouth of yours, kid! What gives?"

"Okay, okay, calm down and listen."

"Calm down. Calm down?! I'm a marble Madonna about to explode. Didn't I tell you something's off about that man and that I'm terrified Vivian's gonna be wrecked because of him, yet here you are telling me to calm down."

"Lily; Ned, Emerson, Scar and I set this whole thing up for you. Please don't explode."

"What thing?"

"Card game night."

"You said it was a 'game night' without the cards part ten seconds ago."

"Yeah, because I needed them to go. Anyways, Emerson will do most of the talking, but me and Scar are gonna make some beans spill too. If you come, then you can help us dig out what you wanna know."

"Scar's a part of this too now?"

"Trust me, you can trust him."

"Hmm... We playing poker?"

"Rummy."

"Boring. What's with the new uniform?"

"Let's just say it's a fancy night at the Pie Hole. Fancy lights and music and everything."

"...I guess it's not the worst plan I've ever seen. Let's go."

"Aren't you gonna change?"

"Nah. I have a sucker to stab. Don't need to look pretty for that."

#

"Psst, Pie Boy! Yeah you, get over here."

"Emerson, I just filled your third—"

"Shh. Where's dead girl?"

"About that..."

"You tellin' me you don't know?"

"She came back with Scar so I went to change and when I came back she wasn't here. I swear I'm looking for her."

"Sometimes I really wanna scratch your faces off."

"Why don't you ask Scar, huh?"

"I'd rather steal a bear's cub."

"I told you all this was a terrible, terrible idea but—"

"Shh! There she is. Go get 'er under a table. March, kid!"

"Okay, okay. Stay calm, stay calm, walk calm, don't run, don't spill… Chuck, where were you?"

"I had to finish something — don't ask, doesn't matter, sorry anyways. Just help me hide. Vivian and Dwight just parked."

And so it was that not another moment later, Charlotte Charles faded into her first hiding spot.

If a human could die from anxiety, then she believed she would be the first martyr. From where she hid underneath a table that held a massive bouquet of green, blue, and red origami roses she had made for the spying occasion and extra decks of cards, she watched her aunts and Dwight Dixon follow Olive through the bright doors and to a table. Then she watched the Pie Maker recite the euphonic speech he had penned for the night.

It was only after the table had ordered their pies that she realized her anxiety had bled away. The curtain veiling her breathing body assumed position again now that Chuck released it to. She spied her Fortress' shinning dress boots halting next to her hiding place.

"Scar! Pretend to drop something." That he did. She unveiled herself for his placid eyes alone. "Listen, I need you to not say hi to them as long as you can. Unless one of my aunts waves to you, don't look at them. Try to hang around Dwight if he goes anywhere, got it?"

He did. It was twenty-seven minutes and thirty-nine successful incognito/serving seconds later that Aunt Vivian summoned him with a bubbling moment of social confidence brought on by her thriving - she believed - relationship.

"My oh my, you are something else tonight, dear. Dwight, Lily, this is Scar. He is the new enigmatic, winsome hire."

"Ah, nice to make your acquaintance, kiddo. Interesting name you have there. Is it your real one?"

His enigmatically winsome gaze caught Aunt Lily's discreet, scheming wink. He trailed her tapping fingers to her not-at-all-full coffee cup. "Charming, I'm sure, but I'm afraid the kiddo has work to do. Game night is buzzing. Why don't we go play some too?"

To which the undercover Asgardian waiter snapped behind his back as he filled Lily's cup, which Ned the Pie Maker noticed and nodded to Emerson that it was time for him to drift to the playing tables, who then high-fived the passing Olive, which told Charlotte Charles to jump inside the draped table of special pies the waitress then rolled right between the first play table and chocolate fountain, where the Lonely Tourist settled into her final hiding spot.

"Huh, I thought you said it was game night, Miss Snook."

"It is. Card games are the best games IMHO. Anyone up to some pecan pie? It's TDF, especially with some chocolate drizzle."

"Goodness, I fear if I eat one more slice I'll never get out of this dress again."

"Which would not be a terrible thing, my little mackerel."

"Let's play some rummy before I choke on my own bile... Cod; uncanny seeing you here."

"Hello Emerson!"

"Lily, Vivian, nice to see you two again. I take it this is the beau?"

"Oh yes, the one and only. You haven't met him yet have you? Darling, this is our friend Emerson Cod. He is a business associate of Ned's."

"Aha, wonderful to know your name, chipper. I've seen you 'round here. As well as that one other young lady I don't see here now."

"There is another employee? Olive, you never told us."

"She…is..."

"Of course there's another employee you buck heads. Every proper business has another person as backup in case of schedule emergencies. Now could we start playing the game? You've shuffled our deck enough, Cod."

"Yes, Miss Charles. There's seven for you, you, you, and me. Stock pile set, face card up."

"Ooo, Jack of all Trades. How climactic!"

"Quite. Dwight, why don't you make a move after me? Olive, drizzle a slice for me would you?"

"'Course."

"Don't mind if I do. There, five of hearts. Your turn, darling."

"Hmm... I think I'll put down...wait, that will not work."

"So where are you from, Mr. Dixon?"

"A bit of everywhere, but mostly from the Southwest. You?"

"A bit of everywhere too, but mostly from here. You enjoyin' Papen and Coeurs De Coeurs?"

"I am. They've got a quaint little façade but some of the most gut-wrenching mysteries I've ever seen. It's wild really."

"I agree with you there."

"Darling, I'd junk pile your diamond queen."

"Thank you, dear. Your turn, Lily."

"Buch'a cheaters... There. I ain't narrating."

"So a little billboard told me you solve murders."

"I do. How 'bout you?"

"I don't solve them; I make them… I'm kidding! Horrible joke, but uh, I couldn't resist myself. Anywho, I'm not doing much of anything. Just searching for something special to me."

"Heirloom? - Thanks, Olive."

"Not so much. It was more like an award for a job well done back in the day."

"Pretty important award I take it."

"Yes siree. I wouldn't have it any other way. Here, pick up my five of hearts on your next turn, darling."

"You are too sweet."

"So when's the wedding, Dixon?"

"...Wedding?"

"You take my seven of hearts too, sis. And yeah, wedding. You love her, don't you?"

"Lily, I think it's too early to—"

"No, no, I don't mind her asking, dear. Yes of course I love her. Why? Are you planning on stealing me the second I put a ring on her finger?"

"Ha. Not even in your wildest dreams."

"But you wouldn't leave me. You wouldn't. Right, darling?"

"Pfft, of course not, sugarplum."

"See, you say that, pal, but when you find your damn awards? Poof! Close the curtains, dim the lights: Dwight Dixon was never here."

"Three of diamonds. I think you'd better watch out, cocktail. I've got a lucky hand."

"Yeah? So do I cause I can see straight through your disgusting lies. Straight of spades - RUMMY! You'd better damn run before they impale your little boyfriend costume."

And before the forthcoming dialogue fled from Dwight Dixon's lips, Emerson Cod held one of his cards up to catch the precise angle of refraction brought on by the red, blue, and green lights circling above, which momentarily blinded Ned the Pie Maker in an incapacitating sea of colors, who then rerouted to pass by with a smorgasbord of pies balancing in his arms. He then winked to Olive the Pie Waitress so that she would walk along with a bowl of to-be-melted chocolate for the chocolate fountain, who then pinched the lean muscles of Loki Odinson's chair-moving arms so he would add more to the second game table perpendicular to the seething climax:

"I don't need to run. I already know where my treasure isn't."

Pies fell from the unsteady arms of the Pie Maker, Hershey Kisses flew from the Pie Waitresses' bowl, shuffling cards soared into the horrified air from the P.I.'s tense hands, and two particular sections of the velvet tablecloth covering the table holding the serene chocolate fountain folded in on themselves.

That was not all. While inside an emotional limbo somewhere around the claws of offense and the paws of destructive fret, the Asgardian/Jotnar nose sniffed a new whiff and irises spotted a not red, blue, or green light. First came the acrid smell, then the flash of a micro-sized firecracker, but in a blink both dissolved into warm pecan pies and beautiful origami decorations.

He searched over the mess of his humans to find nothing more but a customer shuffling her own mint deck of cards and an older gentleman with a fedora and eyes like the Pie Maker. Time would not stop, however, not even for a god to solve a mystery before its own time.

"Tell me, Cod, that woman who isn't here spying, is she another of Ned's business associates?"

"Spying? What in the world are you talking about, darling?"

"Never mind. So Mr. P.I., you up to another game? Or maybe Lily?"

"Shove it down your throat. I hope you choke, monster."

The turbulent irises of the lioness named Aunt Lily fleeing haunted four souls that night, but none could compare to the grueling heart-wrenching caused by the trembling waterfalls of the chocolate fountain in a prince far from home.

It was still late into twilight that our wide-awake heroes congregated in the marrow of the slumbering Pie Hole about the aftermath.

"Did you miss the part where he said he dug up her casket? Her casket. You understand that, Pie Boy?"

"Why don't you say that again? Make it fifty times and it might just stick to the pink mashed potatoes that is my brain."

"Don't you start bein' sassy right now. You understand what he said or not?"

"Emerson, I get it! I got it when he said it. All I'm trying to do is get us to calm the hell down so we can think this through."

"Think?! Ned, my momma knows what he did. He knows I'm alive. He knows I'm me. Now is not the time to stand here and think. This is emergency mode."

"Let's look at our little problem though another significant POV. What're we gonna do if said Miss Charles decides to visit her grave tonight? Come on, put your thinking hat on."

"I don't know. There's nothing I can say."

"I do: Oh Lord have mercy."

"Okay, Olive, Emerson, and Chuck, all three of you shut it. Just...just stop talking. Pick up a rag or something, and let's all help Scar clean this place up."

"Ned, that's not going to help anything. Now is not—"

"Yes it is. Now is when we'll let our adrenaline settle and then we'll think of something together, okay?"

A chorus of mumbles did not agree, but still the three whose cortisol levels were heart-attack ready snatched whatever was closest to join the prince. It was Chuck in particular who grabbed the second of three mops to be near his peace, or so she believed.

If there was anything to learn in the silence of thinning adrenaline and soap suds, it was not of a plan to counter Dwight Dixon, but that Loki Odinson was anything but in peace.

Three hours, forty-two minutes, and fifty-seven seconds later, he dropped on top of his (Chuck's) bed, but before he could descend into his mind palace to concoct how he could leave without hurting the two hearts that cared for him, the sound of construction paper fussing snatched him away.

His albumen, ashy fingers picked up the lotus flower made of intricately folded papers. A skirt of green surrounded the citrus orange flower.

"What is this?" he asked the Midgardian air while twirling it over and over. On the fourth twirl, a leaflet of white paper fluttered onto Chuck's sheets which he waited not a moment to unfold.

Dear Scar,

I've been sad. Sad because I have the gut feeling that you'll leave tonight. You'd think I wouldn't hold you so dear as a friend this early since you haven't even said a peep, but I don't know, I just really wish you'll still be here tomorrow. I don't have anything deep to tell you other than thank you and that I'll miss you so much if you leave...but I hope it's enough.

Your friend, Chuck.

P.S. pull the string in the back of the lotus up and towards you.

He did. The beautiful sunset oranges opened to reveal beaming sunshine yellow. She had given him a living paper flower and words of milk and honey.

It was in that overwhelmed emotional rush that his eyes met the clothes Olive Snook had gotten for him, which had morphed into two free and beautiful outfits, one of which he wore that very moment.

And it was in the vein of that emotion that he remembered the cards that smelled like sour ashes - the flicker of light, the peculiar man whom he didn't know was the Pie Maker's father yet, the red-headed mother of Chuck meeting his gaze with one he wished he could not understand.

His mortals, they truly needed him. Loki, he had to die.

Thus it was that with a slash from the ragged dagger he'd stashed underneath pillows that he watched locks trapped in the smell of a broken soul flutter to the ground between his feet. And he did feel something burn.

With another slash, he realized from where it came.

His heart.

It had a beat again.