Disclaimer: No, I do not own Pushing Daisies. I just happen to write about them.

Pie

“That’s hardly fair.” Chuck whispered. A disapproving look slowly became visible on her face as a hand reached for the lone china in the middle of the glass top table. She slapped it away.

“I said that’s hardly fair.” She said again, louder this time. “That’s the last piece of pie!”

“I know.” The pie maker stopped mid sentence and took a breath, “But seeing as I wasn’t the one who made this pie and that I can’t risk eating the pies that I make, I think it’s only fair that I get the last piece of this pie.” He countered smoothly, reaching for the plate again.

Chuck’s eyebrow’s furrowed and she pouted. She slapped away his hand. There was no way he was getting the last piece of this pie. No matter how much the circumstance pointed out that he, in fact, was in the right. “But, I love that flavor of pie!”

Ned smiled.

“But, I love you.”

Chuck blinked and seemed to freeze in her place. Oh he’s good, he’s really good.

Silence.

Clink clink went the china as it smoothly slid along the glass table top.

“…Fine, you can have it.”