sam_storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-12 10:31 am
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-12 10:31 am
Entry tags:
Wish; Pushing Daisies, G.
Title: Wish
Rating: G
Fandom: Pushing Daisies
Summary: Ned still believes that if you blow out all the candles you might get your wish.
Notes: I wrote this a while ago and just now rediscovered it on the Flashdrive Of Doom. It's part of a longer piece but the longer piece didn't work out so well, so I shortened and tightened it. Tadaa!
Warnings: None.
Originally Posted 2.25.08
Also available at AO3
The Piemaker often wondered how he could be so fortunate and so unfortunate at once.
Ned stares at the birthday pie, with its candles tilting perilously in the crispy, cheese-laden crust that Chuck made herself. The wax is dripping off the red candles, through the vents in the crust and onto the cherry filling underneath it, which will spill out like gems in...gem...syrup...when he cuts it open. He insisted on making the filling himself, since Chuck is completely unready for fruit syrups although she does a passable strudel topping. It's okay; she makes better scrambled eggs than he does, because he's always been nervous that he's going to touch the eggs and they'll start clucking.
"Make a wish," Chuck says, her face pale over the red candles dripping onto the gem-red cherry filling. Emerson is bored with the whole thing but Chuck blackmailed or coerced or bribed him into attending, so he's sitting across from Ned, next to Chuck. Olive is sitting next to him, and Digby has his head on the table, chin pressed to the plastic, drooling slightly.
All his friends are here. He isn't really sure what to wish for.
After all, if he had not been granted the power to bring the dead to life, he would never have been able to recover his childhood sweetheart, who was currently deceased in all known records but actually enjoying a quiet and active life as the Piemaker's accomplice and sweetheart. If, however, he had never been able to revive his mother, his sweetheart's father would never have been killed. Perhaps he would have been able to grow up next door to her, thus preventing her from being strangled while on a cruise several years into adulthood. Or perhaps not. He would never know.
Chuck still remembers her father's death, but not in any real sort of way. She remembers that his trousers were wet from the hose that sprayed everywhere, and that there were bright lights when the ambulance came. Other than that, it's really just an event from which she can mark her residence with her aunts, and her indoctrination into the secretive, complicated world of international cheese.
On this day the Piemaker was currently twenty-nine years and four hours old, and it was his birthday. There were even presents, piled in a corner of the table, wrapped in brightly coloured paper.
Emerson pretends to be bored, because that's his thing, but he's kind of excited really. He invented a whole new stitch in order to make the scarf he's giving Ned for his birthday. It has pies all over it, and it won him Pattern Of The Week on the knitting website he belongs to, "Knots for Knerves".
"This is some party," Emerson says.
"Shh," Chuck retorts.
"Couldn't we have given him a cake?"
"I like pies," Ned says loyally, because as Emerson knows all too well Ned would die before he crushed Chuck's spirit, despite the fact that in Emerson's opinion Chuck's spirit should be crushed on a regular basis for its own good.
"He likes pies," Chuck says smugly.
"He bakes pies, that doesn't mean he likes them," Emerson retorts.
"Hey, trying to make a wish here," Ned announces, and they all fall silent.
And the Piemaker composed himself to make a wish.
Chuck watches Ned close his eyes tightly and realises that he really is going to make a wish, and he really is going to hope it comes true. Good for him! After all, his life is weird already, maybe it will.
She hopes in a way that he's wishing for a scarf with pies knitted into it, which is what Emerson made him, or a book about savoury cheese pies, which is what she got him, or a book about massage, which is what Olive got him, sort of tactlessly in Chuck's opinion. Because those wishes will definitely come true.
Digby didn't get him anything, but Chuck hopes, really hopes, that Ned wishes that he could touch Digby again and his wish will come true. She won't even imagine that he might wish he could touch her again.
The Piemaker made his wish, and blew out the candles.
And then there was pie.
Which if you can't get your wish, is not a bad substitute.
END
Rating: G
Fandom: Pushing Daisies
Summary: Ned still believes that if you blow out all the candles you might get your wish.
Notes: I wrote this a while ago and just now rediscovered it on the Flashdrive Of Doom. It's part of a longer piece but the longer piece didn't work out so well, so I shortened and tightened it. Tadaa!
Warnings: None.
Originally Posted 2.25.08
Also available at AO3
The Piemaker often wondered how he could be so fortunate and so unfortunate at once.
Ned stares at the birthday pie, with its candles tilting perilously in the crispy, cheese-laden crust that Chuck made herself. The wax is dripping off the red candles, through the vents in the crust and onto the cherry filling underneath it, which will spill out like gems in...gem...syrup...when he cuts it open. He insisted on making the filling himself, since Chuck is completely unready for fruit syrups although she does a passable strudel topping. It's okay; she makes better scrambled eggs than he does, because he's always been nervous that he's going to touch the eggs and they'll start clucking.
"Make a wish," Chuck says, her face pale over the red candles dripping onto the gem-red cherry filling. Emerson is bored with the whole thing but Chuck blackmailed or coerced or bribed him into attending, so he's sitting across from Ned, next to Chuck. Olive is sitting next to him, and Digby has his head on the table, chin pressed to the plastic, drooling slightly.
All his friends are here. He isn't really sure what to wish for.
After all, if he had not been granted the power to bring the dead to life, he would never have been able to recover his childhood sweetheart, who was currently deceased in all known records but actually enjoying a quiet and active life as the Piemaker's accomplice and sweetheart. If, however, he had never been able to revive his mother, his sweetheart's father would never have been killed. Perhaps he would have been able to grow up next door to her, thus preventing her from being strangled while on a cruise several years into adulthood. Or perhaps not. He would never know.
Chuck still remembers her father's death, but not in any real sort of way. She remembers that his trousers were wet from the hose that sprayed everywhere, and that there were bright lights when the ambulance came. Other than that, it's really just an event from which she can mark her residence with her aunts, and her indoctrination into the secretive, complicated world of international cheese.
On this day the Piemaker was currently twenty-nine years and four hours old, and it was his birthday. There were even presents, piled in a corner of the table, wrapped in brightly coloured paper.
Emerson pretends to be bored, because that's his thing, but he's kind of excited really. He invented a whole new stitch in order to make the scarf he's giving Ned for his birthday. It has pies all over it, and it won him Pattern Of The Week on the knitting website he belongs to, "Knots for Knerves".
"This is some party," Emerson says.
"Shh," Chuck retorts.
"Couldn't we have given him a cake?"
"I like pies," Ned says loyally, because as Emerson knows all too well Ned would die before he crushed Chuck's spirit, despite the fact that in Emerson's opinion Chuck's spirit should be crushed on a regular basis for its own good.
"He likes pies," Chuck says smugly.
"He bakes pies, that doesn't mean he likes them," Emerson retorts.
"Hey, trying to make a wish here," Ned announces, and they all fall silent.
And the Piemaker composed himself to make a wish.
Chuck watches Ned close his eyes tightly and realises that he really is going to make a wish, and he really is going to hope it comes true. Good for him! After all, his life is weird already, maybe it will.
She hopes in a way that he's wishing for a scarf with pies knitted into it, which is what Emerson made him, or a book about savoury cheese pies, which is what she got him, or a book about massage, which is what Olive got him, sort of tactlessly in Chuck's opinion. Because those wishes will definitely come true.
Digby didn't get him anything, but Chuck hopes, really hopes, that Ned wishes that he could touch Digby again and his wish will come true. She won't even imagine that he might wish he could touch her again.
The Piemaker made his wish, and blew out the candles.
And then there was pie.
Which if you can't get your wish, is not a bad substitute.
END
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
I NEVER EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT THAT.
*bets the show's writers never did either*
no subject
I mean, I assume that there's a certain "processing" point past which his gift no longer works -- his flannel shirts don't sprout and wooden counters don't grow leaves. Which is kind of interesting from a social standpoint -- we process everything into oblivion from which it can't return. But that's a sidetrack...
Erm, yes. Anyway, I was making bacon and eggs with an episode of it airing, and was wondering if he buys certified 100% organic guaranteed unfertilised eggs. Just in case. :D
no subject
I really enjoyed this one and could "hear" narrator's voice in my head. Good job as usual.
no subject
no subject
no subject
Does the flurry of fics posted lately mean that you are on your way to recovery?
Thank goodness!!!
no subject
no subject
no subject
All I have to say, in lieu of crit, is awww! and squee! for PD fic that is not crossover.