A/N: - Heya, I'm back again! HEHEHEHE! Did anyone see that fabby comedy type Doctor Who thing on John Barrowman's Tonight's The Night? (I only watched it cuz I wanted to make a mock how cheesy the HSM performance was… No offence to HSM lovers!) The Doctor Who thing was funny – well to me anyway! Sorry people, if I've got Olive's age wrong because I just put down the only information I could find about Olive's age: mid thirties.
Anyway, without further ado, READ ON TA FAITHFUL CHUMS AND CHUMMETTES!
Disclaimer: The aliens have officially landed and invaded Earth, giving me the assets and ownership to both Pushing Daisies and Doctor Who. *sighs dramatically* In plain English, this translates as… no… Sadly. Oh and the title of this chapter doesn't belong to me either – it's Blondie's. What? I got stuck!
HAPPY READING!
=D
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Chapter Five – Fade Away and Radiate
"They were nice," Chuck said, as optimistic as ever, but inclined her head and contemplated the facts. "Though a bit strange…"
"There's something not quite right about them British folk," Emerson said, narrowing his eyes as his eyes traced the Doctor, Donna and Rose as they piled out the Pie Hole (again), but this time, newly accompanied by a newspaper.
"It's like the same 'not quite' right, when you're seven-years-old and you hear 'Hansel and Gretel' for the first time," Ned agreed, idly removing his apron and shuffling around the counter to join the rest of them in front of the counter. "You know it's 'not quite right' when the father dumps Hansel and Gretel in the forest, it's 'not quite right' when the twins suddenly stumbles across a house made of candy, and you definitely know it's 'not quite right' when they listen to an old lady with a green face and a wart on her nose. I never did like that fairytale – I kept dreaming that it was my dad that left me in the forest and the witch was that scary woman with the cats next door."
Emerson pursed his lips and muttered something inaudible under his breath and other than that, there was an uncomfortable silence plaguing the Pie Hole.
"Why is it so breezy in here?" Chuck asked suddenly, trying to wipe the goosebumps off her cold bare arms.
Olive indicated the widely open backdoor, as she stepped back from her cleaning position behind the counter, allowing a clear view of the alley. At this moment, Olive Snook was thirty-five years, thirty-four weeks, five days, seventeen hours and twenty-two minutes exactly and the facts were these: her mind was far, far away.
She was drifting in the reality, where the harsh cold-hearted green of jealousy had taken over and Chuck had not 'faked' her own death, but was dead full-stop. Adjoined by the realism impracticality, that Ned was in love with her and there were no secrets in the world…
So forth, the waitress merely shrugged at the peculiar grinding noise that whipped up an impulsive wind, sending rolls of cling film and outside leaves flying about – still idly trapped in her distant (reality-unfriendly) daydreams.
"It's probably that blue box fading away or something," Olive sighed, totally unimpressed and impassive.
However, the other three sets of curious eyes were not fixated on Olive, but on the inexplicable remarkable marvel of the certain blue 'Police Call' box, otherwise dubbed TARDIS, churn its engines and fade out of existence – a long brown trench coat disappearing through the navy door. A marvel that caused even Private Investigator, specialist in knitting and part-time popup book author, Emerson Cod to drop his jaw and gawp in shock. (Only to swiftly replant his impassive expression and close his jaw – trying to look as convincingly unmoved as possible.)
Snapping back into reality, faster than Ned's finger could reawaken the dead, Olive swivelled her head round just in time to see a flash of blue vanish. She craned her head back round and stared, completely horrified, at Ned, Chuck and Ned in disbelief.
Olive swore loudly, "I did not just miss a tiny blue box fade away."
"Yeah," Ned squeaked.
"The same blue box that I've been trying to prove real all day and scared a customer away with?!"
"Would it help if I told you the truth hurts?"
"No. If anyone needs me, I'll be with the whiskey."
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Back in the infinite depths of the TARDIS, the Doctor was back at the controls, throwing a lever here and twiddling a dial over there, while Donna and Rose hovered around him – just watching.
"What does that button do?" Donna asked randomly, pointing at a big conspicuous green button on the console.
"That one?" The Doctor double-checked, signalling the same button.
"Yes, that one!" Donna cried impatiently.
"That harmless little green button stabilises the general jugular wavering gyroscopic pattern of the infrastructural bimagnotistic flux defragmentation system."
Rose gawped at him blankly, "You what?"
"In other words…" the Doctor said, pausing. "I have absolutely no idea, whatsoever!" A grin suddenly emerged on his face and he nodded his head in Donna's direction. "Why don't you press it?"
"What, me?" Donna said in confusion, pointing at herself.
"Yep!"
"Doctor, are you sure this is safe?" Rose warned him.
"It's as safe as two houses – I'm one hundred percent sure. Weeeell, ninety-nine point nine percent to be on the safe side, but when I say ninety-nine point nine I mean ninety-nine per--"
"I'm gonna do it," Donna alerted them promptly, hand hovering over the button.
"Go on!" the Doctor chirped enthusiastically. "A lil' button pressing won't hurt!"
"You are so dead if weeeeeeeeeeeee---" Rose shrieked as the TARDIS jerked to a halt, before zooming forward and causing all three passengers to topple onto the floor. Donna has pressed the button. Rose leapt up off the floor and sighed. "… almost get killed."
"Aah! So that's the accelerator!" the Doctor cried out happily, picking himself off the floor. "I always wondered where that was!"
Donna jumped back onto her feet, wiped the dust from her trousers and stormed (well, staggered, in this case) over to the Doctor and slapped him hard on the arm.
"Safe as two houses, you said," Donna put on a low voice. "It won't hurt' you said. I'll show you who's going to be hurt. I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"
The Doctor winced and rubbed his arm, "Where did you learn that from?"
"Taekwondo class," Donna breathed.
"That explains a lot," the Doctor murmured but shut up, when a glare was shot at him. "Anyyyway, moving on, now we can move the TARDIS quicker!"
"Why d'you have to moves the TARDIS anyway?" Rose yelled over the sound of the Time Rotor, as the Time Machine lurched to one side and she clung onto the console for support. The ship swayed again and Donna grabbed hold of the Time Lord's arm vigorously. "It's not like anyone will see it."
"You'd be surprised. The name Olive Snook ring any bells?" the Doctor tested her, an eyebrow arched.
"Good point."
"Besides, I was hoping we could have a look at this," he unravelled the newspaper from his trench coat pocket and chucked it at Rose, who caught it skilfully.
Rose skimmed the headline and grinned with her tongue between her teeth, "Are you suggesting that we go snooping?"
"I'll have you know Rose Tyler that highly prestigious Time Lords do not snoop!"
"Murder Mocks Muse Museum, Missing Deflectors Devastation," Donna read aloud, nudging Rose along the console jump seat, as she sat herself down.
"Read the next bit," the Doctor cued, flicking a couple of switches to prevent the TARDIS from speeding and jolting.
The TARDIS's interior was basked in silence, for the next several minutes, as Donna and Rose's eyes intently read the newspaper's headline story. A lot of alliteration and a Paris du Elisabeth later, the companions' raised their heads and both grimaced slightly. Then Rose rolled her eyes at the predictability of the Doctor's choice and Donna grinned, knowing what was coming next.
"A murder investigation?" Donna said shrewdly, reassessing the situation.
"Yes and no… We're not doing it for the money! Any complaints? No? Good!" the Doctor babbled on, full steam ahead. "So, according to another reliable source this happens not to be a newspaper, a boy in his twenties, Paris du Elisabeth, gets murdered in the locker room of Muse Museum and the victims' shoes were stolen and was strangled by a set of shoelaces. Terrible, yes, but rather strange. The trainers, remind me to call 'em sneakers here, are called Deflectors and ostensibly, they're only coming out today but young Paris had his connections and got them early. I say, we do a little investigating of our own," The Doctor pondered a thought and added quickly. "Avoiding any and all Private Investigators, on the way, including one Emerson Cod, in particular.
Rose laughed and cocked up an eyebrow.
"Now I call that snooping."
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Annabelle Riley unenthusiastically peeled back the golden glass doors of the Muse Museum and allowed the crowd to freely flood in. Some could've thundered about to press their sticky soiled fingers onto the glass and gawp absorbedly at famous people's different shoes, others could've stormed into the café to demand a serving of Betty Blip's Bolognese. However, every single eager visitor ran, screaming and shouting, every man or woman fighting for his or herself to the 'Desk of Waiting' to scribble their names down onto the waiting list for an infamous pair of Jacob Deflector's Deflectors.
However, during the commotion of the screaming impatient crowd, nobody noticed the ray of blue light that frazzled the air, as Rickoji, the green and purple spotted alien, materialised into view. Shooting maniacal but cautious looks around the area, Rickoji sighed to find everybody too engrossed in their own lives and the little alien discreetly scuttled off into the wide array of feet…
The alien giggled.
…and shoes galore…
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
"I still can't find a reasonably reasonable reason as to why I can't follow you to the morgue and why Chuck can," Olive said openly, clambering out of Ned's car onto the green, green grass and buttressing herself upright on two skinny elbows, balancing on the open car window.
She tipped to the side a little, as her barely-sober state of mind overcame her with wooziness and the inevitable craving for more alcoholic beverages – the after effect of missing a blue box and a cute guy vanish from view.
"Believe me, Itty Bitty; dead girl wouldn't be coming with us either if I had my way," Emerson muttered, as he glared at the Pie Maker – eyes full of accusation, and received a sheepish glance and blush.
"I'm still Itty Bitty?" Olive squealed joyfully, interrupting Emerson's moment of allegation.
Emerson grumbled, muttering with a tone full of discomfiture, "Yeah, yeah, yeah – whatever. You gonna stand there yapping all day?"
He indicated the waitress in the green, as the grass behind her, dress's position and Olive immediately jumped up.
She was just about to wander off through the wrought black iron gates and up the carefully paved path to ring Aunts Lily and Vivian's doorbell, when a voice called her back.
"Pie?" Chuck prompted Olive with a smile, holding up a large white box that wafted out the sweet, heart-warming aroma of freshly baked pies. Olive sucked the wonderful smell in, which bore the smallest lingering aroma of the Pie Maker, and gratefully let the box drop into her tiny hands.
"I'm still in on the investigation, right?" Olive reaffirmed, eyes bulging out hopefully at Chuck.
Ignoring the look of nervousness from Ned and the incoherent mumble from Emerson, Chuck grinned, "Yeah, course you are. Remember: Vivian's is the triple blueberry…"
"Enhanced with the essence juicy flavourful apples," Ned inserted.
"My left-left or your left-left?" Olive checked, ever so slightly confused.
"My left-left and Lily's is on the right, my right, and it's the Kahlua cream cheese…"
Ned slid into view again and said, "Flavour improved throughout with velvety cream cheese pie in a chocolate cookie crust – best eaten with a glass of warmed fresh semi-skimmed milk."
"It should last them a couple of meals," Chuck said smiling, and supplemented hurriedly in a scarcely audible whisper, "And the additional ingredients should make them happier."
"You done discussing pie, already?" Emerson declared edgily, "We're wasting precious time here people, when we could be earning some cash. Talking ain't gonna pay my bills."
Smiling brightly, carefully proficient to conceal the surge of jealousy rushing through her at that very second as Ned stared lovingly into Chuck's big brown eyes, Olive carried the two heavy boxes and waved after the old brown car as its engines fired up and with a loud growl, sped off into the distance.
"Remember to feed Digby!" Ned yelled back, as a reminder, out the car's window. He paused, before adding, "And Pigby!"
A huge heavy white box full of pie barely supported by her small figures, Olive slowly traipsed up the stone trail and made her way up to the door of the sisters' residence. Pressing the doorbell until it chimed out a loud prominent jingle, Olive took a deep breath and took the doorbell's ring as a signal to mentally shut the door in her brain that told her to tell Aunt Lily and Vivian the whole truth about Vivian's niece and lily's daughter alive-not-dead status.
"Who the hell is it? I've got a gun and I'm not afraid to use it!" Aunt Lily barked in greeting, gun posed professionally in hand and crimson red eye patch still shielding her right eye.
Olive remembered Lily's inability to see the full picture, due to 'impaired' vision of her right eye and so forth, Olive shifted to the side. Lily soon noticed who it was and slackened her grip on the long gun.
"Oh it's you, come in," Lily jabbed at the box with her gun daringly, which Olive was currently in possession of, before allowing leighway for Olive to pass through. "What's that?"
"Pie! Ch—," Olive corrected herself quickly, as Lily eyed the blonde suspiciously. "Ned baked it."
"Sure…"
"Who is it?" Vivian cooed in her usual selfless tone.
"It's Snook," Vivian replied gruffly, "It looks like bushy-brow Beaver Boy's made us pie."
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
A/N: - Not as long a chapter as I'd planned, but I've had a sudden blast of writers' block, received some prank calls from anonymous creepy perved-up weirdos, had a busy past three days of holiday and have been far too hyper to concentrate on anything! Anyway, just on a side note, there won't be more of Aunts Lily or Vivian because there was, it would only make the plot more confusing.
And I was only sure that I heard Emerson call Chuck 'dead girl' in front of Olive, like once, so I just assumed that Olive wouldn't have caught anything on and thought that it had been a nickname based on Chuck faking her death. Sorry if I'm wrong though!
Hope you liked, and the next chapter should be up fairly soon considering I've got a whole week off!
Reviews/feedback of all and ANY kind are appreciated a LOT!
=D =D =D =D =D
