Author's note: This fic was written by myself (Immy) and my friend Jess. We are working together closely on it but taking it in turns to write chapters - I will indicate who wrote which chapter as we go along.

Chapter One by: Immy

Hope you enjoy the fic! Oh, and parts one and two are posted together in case of confusion caused for any Doctor Who fans by the Pie Hole~centric beginning...

Chapter One

In Which We First Encounter The Pie Hole

There once was a Pie-maker whose life seemed to consist simply of baking, private investigating and his childhood sweetheart, Charlotte Charles, more commonly known as Chuck. Their surprising lack of physical contact was not always obvious, but it was constant, as they could never, ever touch. For the Pie-maker had a gift, of sorts. And not just in making pastries.

The Pie-maker could touch dead things and bring them back to life. The gift came from nowhere but followed these rules. Touch a dead thing once, and it is alive, again, forever. Touch a dead thing twice, and it is dead, again, forever. Touch a dead thing once and then not again within the timeframe of one minute precisely - and something else has to die in its place.

Only twice in his life had the Pie-maker brought a being back to life for good, and these two "alive again" organisms were now two of the very most important in his life. For one, there was his dog, Digby, a golden retriever with all the expected mannerisms of his species, but also slightly enhanced intelligence for a canine. The second was Charlotte "Chuck" Charles, with whom the Pie-maker now stood in his kitchen, instructing her in the fine art of making apricot pie.

At this moment, the Pie-maker was 29 years 10 months two days 4 hours and five minutes old. The sun burst through the windows in his restaurant and all seemed well. The radiant morning light always caused the establishment to gain a healthy glow, and with Chuck, all would always be well, in the Pie-maker's mind.

The decision had been taken twenty-four hours previously to plan a picnic. Already a basket sat, empty and lonely, in the corner of the kitchen, ready to be filled. Not much thought had been put into what they would eat, except that pie would clearly be essential. Conversation bandied around casually and the pair pondered upon how their afternoon out together would pass. There was a fresh buzz of excitement in the air that emanated from Chuck, her eyes wide and smile wider at the prospect of an outing with the man she loved yet could not touch. Though this part of their relationship was always evident, she tried not to let it play on her mind constantly, as this could ruin any sign of normality between this particular boyfriend and girlfriend.

The pie Chuck now prepared was to be part of the afternoon's proceedings. Her yellow-painted nails carefully flattened strips of pastry over the juicy orange filling, and she had clearly listened to every word the Pie-maker had said. The pie was symmetrical, bursting with filling and ready for the oven. As he slipped the cold pastry into the already heated oven, Chuck rinsed her hands and said,

"Do you know, I think it's about time we had some honey. Honey sandwiches for lunch, like Winnie the Pooh. I mean, seeing as I have all my bees, might as well use them, right?" She slipped off the vibrant apron she wore, adding "…unless you just want jam?"

The Pie-maker looked up from the blueberry cup-pies he had been preparing and smiled a little half-smile. "Honey sounds good."

"Of course." The girl named Chuck smiled back.

As Chuck left the Pie Hole, Olive Snook (29 years 4 months three days 20 hours and forty minutes old) entered her place of work, where she had so long thought was home. A slight awkwardness still resided between herself and the Pie-maker, due to matters of love that can hardly be explained in such limited time. All that can be said is that though they were friends and happy in each other's company, Olive Snook had always wanted something more; something that the girl named Chuck had in her place.

"Morning, Ned!" Olive grinned. "And good morning Digby." The dog's ears pricked and he padded softly over to his friend, where he received a decent petting, that which he would never receive from his master.

"Morning, Olive." Olive glanced over, as she had so many times before, to see the tall, shy man baking, a deep look of intensity on his face as he adjusted blueberries. Strong arms performed the most delicate tasks in a perfectionist manner and his tousled hair flopped just so into his eyes. It was no wonder that retrieving her heart from him was becoming a difficult and near impossible task, even though he had precious idea that he held it.

"Not many customers so far," she commented, airily glancing around the deserted restaurant.

"Give them time, Olive. It's not even ten yet." Apparently satisfied with the cup-pies, they were sent into the oven along with Chuck's apricot pie, and the homely smell of baking spread through the room. Silence also spread rapidly, broken only by the contented hum of the oven.

"So…um…any deliveries?" Olive scrambled for something to say as she wandered around the back of the counter.

"I believe Chuck may want to send a pie. But that's not something I know for sure. I mean, she isn't here. I mean, she went upstairs to get honey."

"Honey?" Olive wrinkled her nose. "You can't put honey in a pie, can you?"

The Pie-maker gave Olive a fleeting look. "It's not for pie. For sandwiches."

"Lunch, at this time?"

"Chuck and I are going for a picnic." He avoided her gaze under the clever guise of the beginnings of a fresh pie. Focused on the rolling pin and pastry beneath his hands, he missed witnessing the smile of his waitress slip ever so slightly.

"Well, why waste such a beautiful day?" Olive beamed. It was lucky she could act, at times like this, she thought. "Are you sure there's no pie that I could take out? I'd love to enjoy the morning. With Digby," she added, "if you could fetch his leash?" The Pie-maker finally looked at her, and gave a tight smile.

"I suppose we could find something." Shuffling around the pies on the stand in the kitchen, he chose a Kiwi pie that sat lonely and dejected. Not the most popular flavour at the Pie Hole, it was an acquired taste that just a few shared, and perfect for a surprise random baked gift for whomever Olive happened to choose. Once, it had been a lady feeding pigeons in the park, who promptly burst into tears and told Olive her fiancé had just left her. Olive had recounted this tale many times; from this, the Pie-maker knew that the Kiwi pie was a healing pie, and though its taste at first might seem bitter, it was a whole lot sweeter than many realities in the world.

Packing the pie into a box and simultaneously grabbing Digby's leash, the Pie-maker thought about Chuck and her sociable knack for unseating awkwardness. The Pie-maker sighed a little while sliding the box shut, in silent frustration at his confusion. He handed Olive the box and the leash, and allowed himself a wider smile. Olive Snook smiled back as she clicked on Digby's leash, before pattering out of the shop on teetering heels, leash in one hand and pie in the other, a pure symbol of devotion to the Pie-maker and his life.

However, what was about to occur would be something never seen before, and enough to instill fear both in the Pie-maker's heart and in that of his waitress. The sudden event would not be taken lightly by anyone. And as Olive Snook stepped off the pavement outside the restaurant, she had no idea of the storm brewing overhead until it was far, far too late for anyone concerned to avoid it.

End of chapter one.