A Series of Unfortunate Events: Valiant and Fortunate Decisions

Baudelaires, Quagmires, and Snickets

Morning dawned bright and happy the next day. Olivia, as usual, woke before the sun peeked it's bleary eye over the very faint, distant hills. She dressed and showered quickly. Afterwards, she tip-toed around the pile of sleeping children in the barn, snatched a book out of the library basket in the self-sustaining hot air mobile home, or whatever Hector called it, and crept outside. There she curled up into one of the patio chairs, in a rather catlike fashion. The book lay open on her lap, but her eyes followed the path of the rising sun.

Maybe I won't die cold and alone, in a library where no one will ever find my body because it's only open for ten minutes a day, and no one goes in there anyways.

The thought was far from cheerful, yet it was also far from what she had become accustomed to. How much life had changed for Olivia Caliban in those last days. She let the events play themselves over again in her mind, starting all the way back at the day the Quagmires appeared at the door of her library at Prufrock Prep.

Eventually, her mind snagged on the discussion she and Jacques had had the night before.

"I wish we had gone with them," she lamented, thinking of the Baudelaires on their secret, nighttime mission.

"I do too, but it's better for us to stay here. That way we can be back up if they get caught," Jacques spoke, his voice soft and lilting, yet unfailingly steadfast.

"Do you think they will get caught?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows.

"No. They are strong children, and one day they will be the best volunteers out there."

"That day won't be for a very long time, though," she countered, a grin creeping up on her face.

"Why is that?" Jacques recognized the tease in her comment, and his left eyebrow followed hers into the sky.

"Because you and I will be the best of the best when it comes to the volunteers, until the day we die."

They had both melted a little more, fallen a little more deeply in love then.

"I'm just glad our legacy didn't end last night," Jacques whispered. Olivia knew he was thinking of the moment they had almost died. The several moments, really. He was so serious, she let the accidental innuendo be forgotten.

"So am I."

A pause.

"Speaking of the Baudelaires, they will need a home once we finish rescuing them from this vile village."

Jacques, of course, knew exactly what she meant. He always did.

"The Snicket Mansion has plenty of room for the Baudelaires  Quagmires, as well as the Snickets." Something in his too-neutral face told her this would be his payback for her earlier tease.

So, naturally, she took the bait.

"And where will I stay?" Olivia pouted.

"Hm. . . I let me see. . . . I thought I had already counted you actually."

"Since when did I become a Baudelaire? Or are you considering me to be a Quagmire?"

"Neither. I though you would be a Snicket, if you liked."

"Good morning, love."

It took Olivia a moment to realize the latest line wasn't from her flashbacks. Jacques Snicket stood next to her, one hand balanced on the back of her chair.

"Good morning, Jacques Snicket."

"Good morning, Olivia Snicket."

She laughed, the sound as light as fairy bells, yet as filling a chocolate cake. She was happy.

"I think you really ought to call me Olivia Caliban for now."

She looked up, meeting his eyes just as a flash of doubt rushed into them.

Oh no, what have I said? I didn't mean it like that. It was so much easier when we were just flirting.

"At least until the actual wedding occurs."

Gooey love and happiness overruled the worry in Jacques's eyes, and Olivia closed her book. She hopped out of the chair, stretching until each and every one of her muscles popped.

"Why don't you sit down, I'll go wake the children."

"Last I saw them, they were passed out in the barn. They had a late night, I think we can let them sleep."

It was then that Olivia's eyes strayed from his face for long enough to notice the book in his hand. For her, that cemented the fact that she was in love. Noticing Jacques over a book.

She blinked, trying to remember she was in a conversation.

"I should still wake them up."

"Or we could just sit here, like this." Jacques ended his words by twirling Olivia around. Startled, she shrieked giddily as she fell upon his lap. When they were both settled onto the rather small, wooden chair, her blushing furiously and him wrapping his arms around her, she regained her senses somewhat.

"You do know there is another chair."

"If you stay in that chair, then Hector would have to sit on my lap when he came out."

Olivia just blushed and rolled her eyes. Never before had she acted so much like a boy-crazy school girl. Flirted, yes. Actually cared, no.

"What book are you reading?"

"The Silmarillion."

"Oh? Me too."

They laughed, and Jacques set his copy on the side table so they could share hers. The couple read like that for hours. Olivia tucked her legs underneath her, while Jacques rested his chin on top of her head. She rather thought they fit perfectly like that.

At some point, the others got up for breakfast, but Violet insisted Jacques and Olivia be left alone.