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crossoverficTitle: Different Then All The Rest (Electrifying)
Author: Rosie1234
Rating: PG
Fandom: Heroes/Pushing Daisies
Ships: Elle/Ned, Sylar, Chuck
Summary: It was Charlotte (Chuck, and not the 'I'm Chuck Bass' one) Charles all over again.
Notes: I haven't done any Elle/Ned since 'His Elle Pie' so here's a longer and better one, enjoy all you crazy readers! :) http://rosie1234.livejournal.com/203694.html#cutid1
Be nice, give a girl a request!
Disclaimer: Not Mine
For: cicrystalballer (because of the awesome that is their Elle/Ned video! :)
It was Charlotte (Chuck, and not the 'I'm Chuck Bass' one) Charles all over again.
(who is off finding both the world and herself, which is forever young)
Done once again without a single thought but 'can I survive another one, another broken heart?'
But this time, the one large difference was Elle (electrifying me and every one of you) Bishop.
-
“You saved me?”
From her words (that came rushing to her lips almost as fast as the blue spreading to each finger-tip) I could tell that she believed that death was what she deserved in life and not a savior that wanted to save her and her alone, not the just the whole wide world.
(at at that moment that person wasn't Peter, Mohinder, Adam or her killer Sylar, who she said later on were her 'old toys', but me the one that truly cared about her)
“Saved isn't the right word, 'brought back' is a lot better. El, I should have been here a lot sooner then maybe I wouldn't have had to go through this whole dance once again.”
And that dance lasted so very long (my face growing older day by day and hers still shining bright, the same) at one point I was out of breath, words to say (besides I love you, I love you! Which grows old time after time) and shoes to wear away the souls.
(she was a singing bird, robin, in a cage that I without knowing it had placed her in, with whispers of 'it could expose me' and 'I love you, you have to stay because of that and that alone')
“Pie maker? Don't cry, okay?”
Over the short months that I called her friend (and something else entirely in my mind, 'lover?') she had only used my god given name once or twice, so instead of being 'Ned, the pie maker' I was pie maker to her, body and soul.
“Okay, I won't, after all no one is dead, well, not anymore.”
(and well, the last time tears had welled in my eyes, that for a while became open oceans filled with nothing, was when she left smiling at her freedom and the changing life before her)
“Good, I like my men (toys, toy here, toy there, toys everywhere!) strong, anyway at this moment of my death I believe I'm the one that gets to cry, Ned. Thanks.” ('cry for myself, for you and how stupid I was')
(make that three Ned's flying my way, only said or whispered at times of great guilt and fear. I think I like pie maker a whole lot more)
-
Now my days (filled with pies made with her and her in the contents, two different faces clouding up my mind) are filled with irony because after all the time playing the best friend (and her lips kissing her killer with a smile of joy that soon would turn to one of fear) now she wants to kiss me like a lover instead of a brother, now that we can't.
(oh, balls)
“Ned?”
“Yes? (for you anything, anything at all)”
“If I tried with all my strength (which is beyond any you know, seriously) to kiss you this very moment would you let me?”
In my head (that was busy putting this and that together and seeing if they'd taste 'superdelicious!' or 'icky' like my number one taste tester, El, would say) instead of a little blond's lips falling on to mine like in my many dreams all I saw was her cold and dead on the kitchen floor, like too many women before her.
“No, I want to kiss you as much as you want to kiss me but if you tried anything like that I'd run (and boy, can I run, a whole lot faster then little old you) and when I run there's no stopping me. Got it?”
“Got it, sir!”
It didn't help the selfish man in me (that I've locked away for so many years that he's starting to get dusty) that wanted with all of his heart to escape and plant one on her pie covered lips, that she was smiling at me like she always did as if I was the only one in the world that cared for her.
(but trust me I doubt that because besides the damaged bits, which she has more then most, that we all have she's the most lovely person I've met. Well, besides Chuck but of course, not even the sunshine herself, who is standing right before me eating like a child, could surpass your first love.)
“Hey, pie maker, keep that lemon and cherry pie coming, it is after the Elle Bishop pie and needs more love then the people of the world are giving it. And in no way I'm I talking about myself, well, maybe a teeny-tiny bit.”
Author: Rosie1234
Rating: PG
Fandom: Heroes/Pushing Daisies
Ships: Elle/Ned, Sylar, Chuck
Summary: It was Charlotte (Chuck, and not the 'I'm Chuck Bass' one) Charles all over again.
Notes: I haven't done any Elle/Ned since 'His Elle Pie' so here's a longer and better one, enjoy all you crazy readers! :) http://rosie1234.livejournal.com/203694.html#cutid1
Be nice, give a girl a request!
Disclaimer: Not Mine
For: cicrystalballer (because of the awesome that is their Elle/Ned video! :)
It was Charlotte (Chuck, and not the 'I'm Chuck Bass' one) Charles all over again.
(who is off finding both the world and herself, which is forever young)
Done once again without a single thought but 'can I survive another one, another broken heart?'
But this time, the one large difference was Elle (electrifying me and every one of you) Bishop.
-
“You saved me?”
From her words (that came rushing to her lips almost as fast as the blue spreading to each finger-tip) I could tell that she believed that death was what she deserved in life and not a savior that wanted to save her and her alone, not the just the whole wide world.
(at at that moment that person wasn't Peter, Mohinder, Adam or her killer Sylar, who she said later on were her 'old toys', but me the one that truly cared about her)
“Saved isn't the right word, 'brought back' is a lot better. El, I should have been here a lot sooner then maybe I wouldn't have had to go through this whole dance once again.”
And that dance lasted so very long (my face growing older day by day and hers still shining bright, the same) at one point I was out of breath, words to say (besides I love you, I love you! Which grows old time after time) and shoes to wear away the souls.
(she was a singing bird, robin, in a cage that I without knowing it had placed her in, with whispers of 'it could expose me' and 'I love you, you have to stay because of that and that alone')
“Pie maker? Don't cry, okay?”
Over the short months that I called her friend (and something else entirely in my mind, 'lover?') she had only used my god given name once or twice, so instead of being 'Ned, the pie maker' I was pie maker to her, body and soul.
“Okay, I won't, after all no one is dead, well, not anymore.”
(and well, the last time tears had welled in my eyes, that for a while became open oceans filled with nothing, was when she left smiling at her freedom and the changing life before her)
“Good, I like my men (toys, toy here, toy there, toys everywhere!) strong, anyway at this moment of my death I believe I'm the one that gets to cry, Ned. Thanks.” ('cry for myself, for you and how stupid I was')
(make that three Ned's flying my way, only said or whispered at times of great guilt and fear. I think I like pie maker a whole lot more)
-
Now my days (filled with pies made with her and her in the contents, two different faces clouding up my mind) are filled with irony because after all the time playing the best friend (and her lips kissing her killer with a smile of joy that soon would turn to one of fear) now she wants to kiss me like a lover instead of a brother, now that we can't.
(oh, balls)
“Ned?”
“Yes? (for you anything, anything at all)”
“If I tried with all my strength (which is beyond any you know, seriously) to kiss you this very moment would you let me?”
In my head (that was busy putting this and that together and seeing if they'd taste 'superdelicious!' or 'icky' like my number one taste tester, El, would say) instead of a little blond's lips falling on to mine like in my many dreams all I saw was her cold and dead on the kitchen floor, like too many women before her.
“No, I want to kiss you as much as you want to kiss me but if you tried anything like that I'd run (and boy, can I run, a whole lot faster then little old you) and when I run there's no stopping me. Got it?”
“Got it, sir!”
It didn't help the selfish man in me (that I've locked away for so many years that he's starting to get dusty) that wanted with all of his heart to escape and plant one on her pie covered lips, that she was smiling at me like she always did as if I was the only one in the world that cared for her.
(but trust me I doubt that because besides the damaged bits, which she has more then most, that we all have she's the most lovely person I've met. Well, besides Chuck but of course, not even the sunshine herself, who is standing right before me eating like a child, could surpass your first love.)
“Hey, pie maker, keep that lemon and cherry pie coming, it is after the Elle Bishop pie and needs more love then the people of the world are giving it. And in no way I'm I talking about myself, well, maybe a teeny-tiny bit.”
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