Next chapter up. Hope you like it!!

So here it goes, just PM me if you've got any goooood ideas to add to the story and as always, PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! It'd be great to hear what you think, even if you do think its krapper (- cool spelling, huh?) than Brussels sprouts! Read on, my faithful chumettes!

The Global Warming gag is definitely not a main PLOT or ANYTHING in my story, just put it there for fun!

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Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who OR Pushing Daisies!! Sadly…

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Chapter One - Olive Snook and the Blue Box

Olive positively sighed with exhaustion, as she sat down on a stool after she'd served yet another delicious Kohlua Cream Cheese And Triple Blueberry Pie Deluxe to the happily satisfied customer, with the green hair and the pink short shorts – everybody was getting ready for the summer these days… (Even though it was only freaking February!)

Chuck was busy sorting out the different ingredients in the storage cupboard; the very same storage cupboard that Olive was strangely not allowed to even see, while Ned was behind the counter, dreamily pulling out a piping-hot golden crispy pie from the oven.

"Why is it so hot in the middle of February? It's still supposed to be winter and we're no where near the equator," Olive huffed, as she leaned on the counter and used her are skinny elbows to proper herself up.

"It's because the world is sad," he received raised eyebrows from Olive. "Global Warming; the more pollution we cause by not reusing highly reusable substances like… rubbish, the hotter and hotter the Earth gets," Ned explained simply. "If only people found the need to reuse bits of rubbish, then the world would be a better place and i.e. it wouldn't be so hot in the middle of February."

Olive scoffed, "Humph! Yeah right Ned, how can you reuse bits of rubbish like dead strawberries or rotten apples? The only way that that's ever gonna happen is if everyone has a dinky magical finger that could bring the dead back to life! Then you could resurrect all the dead apples you wanted, Ned," A horrid afterthought sent a shiver down Olive's spine. "Yuck, don't let me think about it! But imagine that, dead-but-brought-back-to-life ingredients used in our pies, you wouldn't catch me eating pies anymore. I'm glad that's not going to happen, don't you think Ned?"

Ned swallowed a lump in his throat and he furtively slipped a glance at the storage cupboard, where a whole batch of dead things were ready to be revived. He secretly hoped that Olive hadn't meant what she just said, because two things would happen: a) He'd be very very guilty and b) He would also feel very very hurt.

"Science is very unpredictable and a lot of things could happen in the future, so I wouldn't say it was impossible. And I wouldn't say it's that bad, in fact, I'd say alive-again objects aren't bad at all and can be highly nutritious and delicious, if used in the appropriate way, of course."

"How would you know?" Olive narrowed her eyes and Ned's heart stopped for a split second, as his mind jumped to vivid exotic conclusions. Olive read the look on his face and grimaced. "Oh gawd, you don't really have a magic finger do you Ned?" Ned looked like he was about to faint, but then Olive's face broke into a steady grin and she laughed. "Sheesh! Like I really believe in that sorta stuff… Why d'you look so scared? Unless you do have a magic finger that can bring back the dead…"

"No, no, of course not. That would be highly unlikely and extremely impossible to have a finger that can bring back the dead," Ned lied quickly.

Olive knew that voice; it was the voice Ned used when he was trying to hide something from her and she suspected that Ned knew something that she didn't. Olive just dismissed the thought like every other secret she'd been left out on. Like the reason why Chuck was allergic to Ned or the reason why Ned kept going to morgues and solving murder investigations so quickly or the reason why she wasn't even allowed to go into the storage cupboard. But those things would have to remain hidden, until the day Olive finally got to the bottom of the mystery. For now, she'd pretend not to care, like the times she pretended not to care that Ned was deeply in love with Chuck, and he didn't even give Olive a second glance.

Luckily Chuck, having heard the conversation, saved the day – putting Ned at peace, once again and making his heart flutter at the sound of her voice. She ever so innocently asked Olive to help her by chucking the rubbish out because Ned was busy making pies and Chuck had to finish tidying up the cupboard.

Sighing, Olive obliged and smiled at her friend, walking over to collect the heavy filled bin bag and shuffling out the back door to chuck the bag into the dumpster.

As soon as Olive had gone out, both Ned and Chuck breathed heavy sighs of relief. But their liberation was soon broke, as the bell on the door jingled and Emerson Cod strode in – the same pokerfaced expression etched on his mysterious face.

In big lengthy strides, Emerson walked up to the counter and sat himself down at the stool. He then briefly scanned the area for the signs of a certain Itty Bitty and whispered to the girl named chucked and the pie-maker, "I think you and your lil magic finger have got some work to do; there's been a murder."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Exactly one hour, thirty-two minutes and fifty-two seconds ago, Emerson Cod sat at his next reading his adored Knitwits magazine ,when there was a sudden gruff clearing of a throat at the door and the man looked up to find a tall well-suited lady at the door. The tall, well-suited lady majestically strode in, nose stuck up high in the air.

He had immediately shoved his Knitwits magazine in his drawers and after telling this mysterious blonde to knock before entering and his advice about buying fish, got down to business.

The lady, who in fact was called, Lady Elisabeth de Elisabeth, explained to Emerson the brief but tragic explanation of the death of her beloved son. Emerson leaned back into his seat and eyed Lady Elisabeth de Elisabeth suspiciously, inwardly indicating a certain something.

Once, a show of one-thousand crisp dollar bills had been wafted in front of his money-loving eyes, Emerson promised Lady Elisabeth de Elisabeth to solve the murder of her not so fortunate son. He subsequently called on his best-friend and fellow partner in investigation, Ned the pie-maker.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Noisily clip-clopping in her high heels to the dumpster and holding the pungent smelling bin bag at arms length, Olive slowly made her way across the dull, bumpy pebbles. Her sharp ears unexpectedly pricked up and there was a sudden breeze in the air, followed by the peculiar grinding of engines. Olive's eyebrows knitted together nonplussed, and looked around only to find no wind or any cars anywhere nearby; so forth shrugged and continued her errand. But as she felt the rush of cool air hit the back of her uncovered legs and the ruffles of her dress rise, she knew that's something was very very wrong.

In fact, Olive Snook knew that something was very very wrong, when she turned around to find a small blue box with the letterings: Police Public Call Box suddenly appear in front of her, out of nowhere. Olive's mouth dropped into a wide 'O' of surprise, stepping back in alarm.

What could only be described as a blue door squeaked open, face-to-face with the red brick wall and out echoed distant voices. Olive's head immediately picked up a worried mantra of Alien aren't real, aliens aren't real, aliens aren't real, aliens aren't--

Olive stayed completely paralysed to the spot, as the voices grew ever louder and this time she could make out some of the words. It was in English, pure English, so that meant the owners of the blue box mustn't be aliens! Well, they might well be foreign British aliens, judging by their accent, but even Olive Snook knew that proper aliens could not speak English; it was a common known fact!

But little did she know…

"Doctor, when you said we were going to land 'slap-bang in the middle of good old sunny sky-scraper America', I didn't know you meant slap-bang in the middle of a flipping wall!" shouted a loud, rough voice and Olive swore she saw a glimpse of fiery red.

OK, maybe they are aliens, Olive inwardly thought to herself, inching back every few seconds. Huge, English-speaking red-headed aliens.

"What d'you mean?" yelled another voice, male this time.

"Donna means that we shouldn't ever trust you to hit the TARDIS with a mallet again," came a slightly less-rough female tone. "I think you've offended her, Doctor. If it helps, we've landed nose to nose with a brick wall."

"What?" came the half-confused, half-amused male again. Olive counted the voices on her fingers and stared at the small box, how could so many people fit inside such a tiny box? That couldn't be possible!

"That must be one hell of a tight squeeze…" Olive muttered to herself.

"If you don't believe us Doctor, why don't you have a look for yourself?" shouted the slightly-less-rough female.

There was a lot of banging, clanging and yelps, until finally the male voice became loud and prominent.

"Ah, I see what you mean. Sorry 'bout that, ladies! I think we'll just have to--" the male's voice ceased and Olive cocked her head, as if trying to find the reason as to why the voice had suddenly stopped. She did find herself randomly attached to that particular voice after all. It was so sweet and dreamy and…

Olive shook her head to clear her mind of the thoughts and blinked back to reality, gasping to see that a male figure clad in brown with messy brown hair was staring at her intently. She could only see half of his body, because the rest of it was blocked by the blue door. Oh-oh.

"Oh hello there!" he called out to her, waving madly.

"Hello," Olive whispered back with a small nervous wave.

She then dropped the bag of rubbish, and frantically legged it back into the comforting safety of the Pie Hole with a loud frightened: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

"Why do they always run off screaming?" the Doctor sighed to himself.

To Be Continued…



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