keep-calm-ask-the-librarian

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

Jacques never takes off his shirt when they make love.

It takes a little while before Olivia notices this, three weeks to be exact. The first few times when they’re together she’s too mesmerized and too caught up in being with him, finally being with him after so many months of thinking that he wasn’t interested in her that way for her to realize it.

To be perfectly honest, the first few times she is so overcome by the way he kisses her and touches her and moves in her that she’s utterly unable of concentrating on anything else.

She has dreamed about what it would be like, during the many lonely, sleepless nights when she still thought their marriage was one only born out of convenience.

Tentative, hazy dreams that she never fully dared to indulge in and always left her feeling flustered and awkward around him the next day.

None of that could have prepared her for what it was really like to be loved by Jacques Snicket. He touches her like she is made out of the most delicate spun glass, his attention completely focussed on her. Every brush of his lips, every caress of his fingers intended at giving her as much pleasure as possible.

And after spending most of her life alone, surrounded only by books and fictional words of love and passion it is rather overwhelming to be loved so fiercely, so at first she barely knows how to respond.

How can she show him how much he means to her? How much she adores him? How would she even go about expressing that physically? At first she’d feared that he would think her dull or inexperienced, but the raw expression of complete awe and admiration on his face when they lay snuggled together afterwards has completely assuaged those trepidations.

She had never dreamt love could be like this. That there could be so much tenderness and passion between them. She’s so blissfully happy those first weeks that the notion that something is amiss hadn’t even crossed her mind.

In only occurs to her one night as they are cuddling on the couch. She’s practically sitting in his lap and he has his arms wrapped tightly around her. It’s early December and she’s been feeling cold all day. On instinct she slides her hands underneath his shirt and he momentarily flinches. Moments later he has caught her hands in his and flips her unto her back, kissing her deeply, leading her to distraction.

The next time they are kissing in bed she experimentally moves her hands up across the bare skin of his back and to her surprise he only clutches her tighter, mimicking her actions. Apparently he likes having his back stroked, she registers, but soon after that he unclasps her bra and takes it off, her blouse having been discarded some time ago. He bends down his head to take her nipple into his mouth and for the next half hour or so her minds becomes pleasantly foggy with arousal.

It’s only later that she realizes that she has never actually seen him with his shirt off. He loves to undress her and takes his time with slowly peeling her clothing away one item at the time, worshipping every bit of exposed skin with his lips and tongue.

But she has never seen his bare chest. He never removes his shirt and he always neatly manages to distract her when she does try to ran her hands over him.

And of course, now that she is aware of this she can’t think of anything except his chest and how much she does want to touch him. As far as she is concerned, his chest is wonderful. Not that she has a lot of past experience to compare to, but still.

Even with layers of clothing separating them, he is broad and firm and he always feels so warm. She loves to snuggle up against him, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull her to sleep.

He also favors wearing shirts that show the outline of his nipples and the sight of it never fails to make her mouth go dry and her hands shake with the need to toch him.

It’s their three week anniversary and they are celebrating with a date night at home. The children are spending the night with Kit, Jacquelyn and Lemony, so they have the house to themselves. Jacques has cooked them a delicious meal and set up a small dining table in the library.

The setting is lovely and romantic with candlelight and soft music and before long Olivia feels light-headed from the wine, the flirting and the all-consuming feeling of being head over heels in love with her husband.

The plan was to have dessert and do a little dancing, but they never make it that far. All evening Jacques has been gazing at her, his dark eyes almost liquid with love and arousal and by the time the main course is over she simply can’t take it anymore. As he stands up to move the dishes away she follows him and twining her arms around his neck, she pulls his head down for a kiss.

He responds immediately, his arms coming up around her to pull her close, his tongue probing teasingly at the seam of her lips. She sighs, allowing him to deepen the kiss as she buries her hands in his thick hair, all thoughts of food and dancing forgotten.

They are already stumbling towards the hallway, arms around each other, lips still fused together when Jacques laughs softly against her lips.

“There’s chocolate mouse in fridge for dessert…”

“We’ll save it for afterwards,” she mumbles, pressing herself closer and at that he laughs out loud.

“Excellent suggestion, Mrs. Snicket!”

Hearing him call her that still makes her knees wobble and a moment later he has swept her up in his arms, making his way towards their bedroom.

Their bedroom. Formerly known as her bedroom, but now a room that they share together.

Once inside, he wastes no time in unzipping her dress and pushing it off her shoulders, letting it unceremoniously fall to the floor. Simultaneously she pushes the jacket he’s wearing down, a thrill of excitement running down her spine as she takes him in wearing only a pair of black jeans and a black, rather tight shirt.

In the past six months he has been working out a lot as part of his convalescence and it’s definitely showing.

Pulling her with him, he walks back until he hits the end of the bed and he sits down with a thud, pulling her on top of him.

Olivia leans down again to kiss him and he responds with a growl, his mouth hot and feverish against hers.

Impatiently he tugs at the chemise she’s still wearing, trying to get his hands underneath, but getting hopelessly tangled up in the slippery material.

“Help me get this off?” he pleads, breaking the kiss, his voice sounding rough. “I want to feel your skin.”

And just like that she remembers how very much she wants to feel him too. Carefully dropping her hands to his sides, she tries to hold his gaze.

“Jacques…” Her voice is breathless and a little shaky and she knows her face must be bright red. “I want to touch you too…”

He smiles at that, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “You are touching me…” he answers teasingly, bucking up against her a little, drawing attention to the fact that she is straddling his lap.

Now she knows she is bright red and she tries to find the words to explain to him what she wants. “I want to touch more of you…”

She twists the fabric of his shirt between her nervous fingers, hoping he will take the hint, but he continues to stare at her, looking completely non-plussed.

Gathering her bravery, she gives a little tug at the shirt. “Can I take this off?”

“Oh…” Against her, he tenses, his body becoming rigid and he looks down, all traces of humor gone from his face.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” His voice sounds flat and dejected and now Olivia feels horrible.

Somehow she has upset him by asking and now the happy, carefree mood between them is gone.

“I’m sorry,” she says frantically, moving her hands back to his shoulders as if she has burned them. “I’m so sorry, Jacques. I didn’t meant to push you or to make you feel uncomfortable…”

“What?” He finally looks up, startled. “Oh no, honey…” Instantly his arms are around her again and he tenderly presses kisses to her eyelids, kissing away the tears that start to form. “You didn’t make me feel comfortable at all…”

Relieved that she hasn’t spoiled the evening completely, Olivia wraps her arms around his neck. “I’m still sorry…” she murmurs. “And if you don’t want me to touch your chest, I won’t, I promise.”

Sighing deeply, he pulls back a little, but not before cupping her face in his hand. Nervous eyes meet hers.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to toch me…” he starts hesitantly. “Because believe me, I do want that… in fact, I think I’d like nothing more… it’s just that… as much as I want to, it won’t be fair to ask you to deal with… well… let’s just say you are hardly going to enjoy it…”

Try as she might, Olivia has no idea what he’s talking about and it must have been written all over her face, because he takes another deep breath.

“After Olaf and his crowbar… it’s not exactly a nice sight anymore… I don’t want to inflict that on you…”

Once he has finished his explanation, he remains very quiet, almost as if he is bracing himself for her reaction.

For long moments, Olivia doesn’t know how how to react to his revaluation, torn between wanting to laugh in relief and wanting to shake him until his teeth rattle for ever thinking that she would be put off by a few scars.

In the end she does neither, but instead kisses him firmly, her hands squeezing his shoulders.

“Jacques Snicket, you’re an idiot!” she informs him afterwards, keeping her hands right where they are.

“You are also dead sexy, and I’ve always thought so!”

Any chance of her face ever regaining its normal color is now well and truly gone, but the surprised grin on Jacques’ face is worth it.

“And nothing will ever make me think differently,” she insists passionately. “I love you and I think you’re the most gorgeous man on the planet and I want to see you… all of you…”

He looks at her as if he wants to eat her alive, his hands gripping her waist tightly.

“Listen,” she continues, her voice gentler. “If you don’t want to, we won’t. That’s fine! But if you’re only holding back because you think I’m going to be one ounce less attracted to you… think again… because that’s never going to happen!”

He plunders her mouth at that, his hands tangling up in her hair and he pulls her so tightly against him that she’s barely able to breath.

“I love you so much,” he tells her, his eyes moist and his voice hoarse. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

Leaning back a little, he lets his hands slip from her hair, down to the hem of his shirt.

Wide-eyed and hardly daring to breathe, Olivia watches as he pulls it over his head and discards it to the side. When his eyes meet hers again, there’s an equal amount of trust and trepidation in them.

She barely has eyes enough to take him in. To take everything in. His chest is broad and firm, just as she has imagined it, with a a thin line of hair scattered across it. She also notices as few golden freckles across his collarbone and her fingers itch with the need to touch them. His nipples are brown and flat and she wonders if they are as sensitive as she hopes.

There are also scars on his chest. Thick, ropey lines that still look red and angry. There are several healed cuts all the way down over his ribcage and Olivia can see the silvery lines where the stitches used to be.

Right in the middle of his chest, near his heart is a particular nasty looking gash. It has healed up, but just barely, the scar tissue pink and blotchy. Horror fills her as she realizes how much pain he must have had endured while Olaf and Esmé attacked him.

“You are beautiful.”

There are tears in her voice because he is beautiful. Not despite of the scars, but because of them. Because they are a testimony of the kind of man he is.

His mouth twists and he takes a shaky breath, his gaze uncertain. As if he wants to believe her words but can’t quite bring himself to do so.

“You are,” she insists. “My goodness, Jacques… how did you bear it? And then you came after me and the children straight away… you didn’t even have them treated until afterwards…”

She remembers in how much pain he was when he arrived at Caligari Carnival and it all makes so much sense now.

“You were watching out for our children. You almost died protecting them. I hate that Olaf did this to you, I hate that you got hurt so badly… but these scars aren’t something to hide… because they show me how much you love us…”

By the time she has finished her speech they’re both crying, making their next kiss taste wet and salty.

But she is now pressed against his naked chest and soon Olivia is only all too aware of wonderful new sensations. He’s so warm and his scent, something musky and spicy and ineffably Jacques’ is washing over her.

She’s still clutching his shoulders and his skin feels so smooth.

“Do your scars still hurt?” she asked quietly. “Should I be careful?”

His eyes darken at her question, his pupils dilating. “No, they’re all healed up…”

“Good…” she can feel the grin spreading over her face, a new rush of excitement filling her. Shifting slightly, she looks at him once more to be absolutely certain they both want this. “Can I?”

Another sweet, heated kiss is pressed against her lips. “You can do anything you want, my darling.”

On impulse, she pushes against this shoulders and he falls back on the bed. She is still straddling his upper tights and now she looms over him, having complete access to every bit of his skin.

They’ve never tried this position before and from the way his eyes have now turned completely black with desire, she’s been holding out on him.

Carefully and still a little hesitant she brushes her fingertips over his chest. At the featherlight touch his eyes closes and he groans.

Emboldened by his response she tries a little more, rubbing the palms of her hands over him in slow, circulating motions.

He looks good enough to eat and before she can second-guess herself, she leans in and presses her lips to his warm, smooth skin.

He groans again, throwing his head back, his hands clutching her hips tightly. She continues to pepper his chest with kisses, never shying away from his scars, without  really thinking ahead of what she is doing until she reaches one of his nipples. Darting out her tongue she carefully licks, watching in fascination as it immediately shrinks into a tiny, hard nub.

Underneath her Jacques’ response is electric. Olivia thrills at his broken cry and the way his entire body shudders from this small touch.

And she has barely begun. After a few more experimental licks and kisses, she switches to his other nipple, her fingers continuing to stroke the one she has just abandoned.

Beneath her Jacques is shaking, his hands having fallen to the mattress where he clutches the sheets in a desperate attempt to remain still.

A litany of endearments and words of love fall from his lips, intercepted with moans and when she finally pulls back, his brow is glinstering with sweat and she can practically see the steam rising off of him. She leans down a little, letting her hair tickle his chest and he shudders again.

“Olivia…” he manages, breathing heavily.

“You’re gorgeous, Jacques,” she whispers and he is. He’s beautiful and he’s all hers and she can’t believe her luck.

When she kisses him again, her lips gently graze over the most vicious scar, right in the middle of his chest. That particular blow could have killed him, but instead he’s here with her, warm and alive.

Jacques goes completely still as she kisses the outlines of his scar gently, but then his hands move to her tights and he slowly moves them up and down from her knees to her hips.

She continues to kiss and lick her way downwards, towards his stomach, shuffling lower as she goes along. Against her lips she can feel his muscles clench and unclench, his skin flushing wherever she touches him, his body almost arching off the bed.

She kisses around his bellybutton and goes lower still. His skin is saltier here and she darts out her tongue to taste him. She’s not sure how far she wants to take this. She’s read about the things she could do now, fantasized about it even, but this is the first time that she might actually be bold enough to try.

She wants to try at least. She wants him to feel good and to know how much she loves him. Gently nipping at his skin, she’s still summing up the courage when he suddenly moves with the speed of lightening, grabbing her shoulders and rolling them over, pinning her beneath him.

For a terrifying second she is afraid that she has hurt him somehow, but then he captures her mouth in a fierce kiss, his chest heaving as if he has ran a marathon.

“Please…” he begs against her lips. “Let me be inside you… I need you so much, my darling…” He sounds absolutely wrecked and she feels him hard and hot against her stomach.

“Yes…” she whispers back, squirming underneath him so that she can spread her legs, her hands clutching at his back.

When he’s nestled between her tights, he stills. Leaning on his elbows he looks down on her with a gaze filled with wonder.

Slowly she feels him maneuver a hand between their bodies and then he’s touching her, his fingers stroking that spot that makes her body go limb with pleasure.

He will always take care of her. He will always make sure she’ll reach her peak before he thinks of himself. But with everything they have done do far she is already wound up tightly with arousal and it only takes a few caresses before she can feel herself beginning to uncoil.

“Jacques… please…” she manages and then he is inside her, his forehead pressed against hers, his body covering hers. And still it feels like she isn’t close enough to him, so she wraps her legs around his waist, clinging to him.

They’re so tightly wrapped around each other that he has barely room to trust, but neither of them can bear the thought of putting any distance between them, so instead they rock at a slow, steady pace.

During all of it, he gazes into her eyes, kissing her softly, never once breaking eye-contact.

Olivia has no idea how long they remain like that, the entire world having faded away, but eventually the pressure and the heat inside her become too much and she clutches at his neck as she tips over the edge, Jacques following right behind her, spilling himself into her with a soft groan.

Afterwards he wraps himself around her and pulls the blankets over them, creating a snug cocoon. He’s still caressing her arms and her face, pressing kisses to whatever patch of skin he can reach.

“You are amazing,” he whispers reverently between kisses. “And I love you so much.”

Olivia snuggles against his bare chest, feeling how relaxed and loose his body is now, every last trace of stress gone. There’s a new light in his eyes as well, his look one of unrestrained  happiness.  

She has never felt closer to him than she does in this moment and her heart sings with how right this is. Pressing a final kiss to his chest, right over his heart she replies softly:

“I love you too.”

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

Visuals for The Threadbare Trope: Jacques Snicket 

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

Oh my goodness thank you so much for writing The Threadbare Trope. I’ve been hanging on every word since you posted the first chapter. I’d love to see more of your writing, especially for Olivia and Jacques

Aw, thank you! I’m glad you’ve enjoyed the story. I do have a few ideas floating around, so we’ll see where that goes... 

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

Hey quick question: what is the point of Fridays now that 'The Treadbare Trope' is over? Cause all I see it as now is another day :(

Well... I might have just finished anything a one-shot that is supposed to go up in a couple of hours... 

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

The smell of coffee and scrambled eggs had lured him down, but they were nowhere near as compelling as the sight of his wife, dressed in PJ bottoms, a sweater and a pair of fluffy slippers. Quietly crossing the kitchen he came to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Immediately she relaxed back against him, her body intuitively knowing it was him and he bend down his head to kiss the sensitive patch of skin behind her ear.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

Giving the eggs a last shake and turning the burners down, Olivia turned around in his arms, her smile radiant.

“Good morning,” she replied, wounding her arms around his neck.

Instantly he captured that smile with his mouth, groaning softly as she slid her hand up into his hair, pulling slightly at the strands.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you too,” she breathed back, rubbing her nose against his.

It had been weeks since they had first declared their feelings for each other, but he would never grow tired of hearing her say it, or say those words to her.

“I thought you were going to sleep in this morning,” she admonished him gently, worry written clearly over her face.

The previous night he’d arrived home far past midnight after helping Larry out with a tricky situation and he was definitely feeling how few hours of sleep he’d had. But going back to bed wasn’t an option.

“The bed was too empty without you in it,” he replied, stealing another kiss.

Against his lips, she giggled. “You’re an impossible flirt, Jacques Snicket.”

“I’ll turn in for a few more hours after you and the kids are gone,” he compromised. “But now that I’m up, we might as well have breakfast together.”

Minutes later they were joined by the children and they all sat down at the breakfast nook to enjoy their scrambled eggs together.

With Esmé captured and safely behind bars it was as if a weight had been lifted off the Baudelaire children. There had been this tension that they’d been carrying with them for all those months and that had become so much ingrained with them that neither he nor Olivia had realized it had been there until it was gone.

But now, with only three weeks until Christmas, they were finally at peace.

As the children chatted around him, Jacques took a mediative bite of scrambled eggs and reflected on how much his life had changed since the night Olivia had been abducted.

In the days that had followed their ordeal, all of his concentration and focus had been on the wellbeing of his family.

Olivia, although not seriously injured, had been in a lot more discomfort than she had anticipated herself. When she woke up the following Friday she’d been barely able to move her limbs and he’d spend days drawing her hot baths, applying hot cherry pit pillows to her sore joints and very gently massaging the knots out of her strained muscles.

The children, albeit relieved, were still shaken, which resulted in the return of nightmares, especially in Violet’s case.

It had taken a week before everything had settled down somewhat and by that time, Jacques was ready to make the decision that he’d been contemplating in the back of his mind for months. Even though recently most of his V.F.D. related missions were already contained to assignments around the city, he’d still been away from home in all hours of the night far more than he felt comfortable with. And even with Quigley Quagmire now being find and reunited with his siblings, there would always be other fires, both literally and figuratively that needed his intervention as a volunteer.

So the solution had appeared to be a very simple one: it was time to step away for once and for all.

And all things considered, he was ready to take that step. His life was so different now from what it had been a year ago. He was once again part of a big family and to him that was more important than anything else in the world. He was tired of missing weekends and dinners with Olivia and the children, or arriving home at all hours of the night, too exhausted to function.

And then the most amazing thing had happened. After discussing his decision with Olivia, he had driven to the V.F.D. headquarters in Mortmain Mountains to hand in his resignation to Captain Widdershins. The Captain, not known for being the most flexible of persons, or enjoying any type of surprise had instead made him a counter-offer.

Instead of completely quitting the V.F.D., Widdershins asked him if was interested in task of rewriting ‘The History of Secret Organizations.’

Now that most of the fire-starting side was either dead or locked up, it was time to, quite literally re-write the book on how the organization should function.

The job would involve a lot of research, a lot of pouring over ancient documents and manuscripts and a lot of cataloging for which he would need the aide of a very skilled librarian.

It had taken one phone call to the Snicket Townhouse for him and Olivia to decide that they were more than eager to tackle this challenge together.

Apart from that he also agreed to become a mentor to new volunteers who were to be trained in the city and to his surprise he quickly discovered that once word got out that he was available in that capacity he was flocked with requests for advice and counsel, other volunteers apparently valuing his opinion and expertise a great deal.

At the moment he was still tying up a few lose ends, but with the start of the new year he would put away his gravity boots and wall-climbing equipment for good, while still remaining a volunteer.

Once breakfast was finished and everyone was dressed, Olivia and the children gathered their coats and bags to gear up for a day of Christmas shopping with Kit and Jacquelyn.

Ever since the night of the abduction the friendship between his wife, his sister and his now sister-in-law had grown with leaps and bounds.

He knew they had always liked and admired each other, but in the last few weeks their bond had become near unbreakable. They met up every other day for tea and Jacques never knew if they were exchanging innocent gossip or plotting world-domination.

He opted not to know.

But for today’s plans their friendship was a great help, because when Kit had suggested the shopping excursion for today, Olivia had readily agreed, not expecting any ulterior motives.

He had of course let the children in on his secret - he didn’t think Klaus would have otherwise agreed to spend his free Saturday shopping with five women - and they were every bit as excited about the plan as he was.

After handing Olivia the keys to the taxi and crossing his fingers behind his back as she made him promise her he go back to sleep for a couple of hours he waved them all off and remained by himself in the foyer, waiting nervously for the arrival of his compatriots.

Only a minute later a sizable van pulled up in front of the house and Larry’s cheerful face appeared in the window with Lemony in the passenger seat. “Good morning, this is Larry-your-flower-delivery-person!”

Hurrying outside to help them unload the van, Jacques looked at them anxiously. “Did you manage to get everything?”

“Every flower of the flower district,” Larry reassured him with a smile as he opened the backdoors of the van with a flourish.

And Jacques had to admit, Larry had outdone himself. The back of the van was packed with buckets and buckets of flowers. There was an abundance of Snowdrops and Lily of the Valley’s, Primroses and Gypsophila, but he had also managed to get his hands on roses of varies colors and even some orchids.

Behind the buckets were about a dozen boxes stacked and Jacques gave Lemony a hopeful look.

“Your wife has a magnificent obscure taste,” his brother commented, approval written all over his face. “But I did manage to get everything from the list.”

They spend the next hour bringing everything inside and as Larry went outside one last time to park the van, Jacques checked his watch.

“We have about four hours to put everything together…” he said, nerves coiling his stomach.

Lemony rolled up his sleeves. “Then we better get started.”

They barely gave themselves time for lunch, the three men working tirelessly to put everything together just as Jacques had envisioned it.

He would have never been able to pull this off just by himself, but knowing that their children, friends and family were involved actually made it all the more special.

It had been Klaus who had compiled an extensive list of all the books that Olivia considered to be her favorite and who had stayed in communication with Lemony as he had tried and succeeded to track each and every single one of them down.

Violet had invented the strings of fairy lights that he was currently putting in place, every lightbulb sparkling and twinkling brightly.

And it had been Sunny who had averted Olivia’s attention every time they needed to discuss something to make the surprise perfect.

With only half an hour to go before Olivia and the children were due home, Jacques hurried upstairs to get changed. Suddenly his shaking, nerveless fingers were useless for properly knotting his tie and it was a very good thing that Lemony was there to assist him.

“You know,” his brother told him as he put the tie around his own neck to knot it properly before giving it back. “It’s not like she is going to refuse you… you’ve been married for almost nine months now.”

“I realize that,” Jacques replied, pulling on the tie so harshly that he almost managed to choke himself.

“It’s not about her accepting me…” he continued once he was able to breath again. “It’s about her knowing how much she means to me… how important her happiness is to me… I want her to feel special…”

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height,”

Lemony quoted, before looking at him critically. “Give me that tie again, you’ve ruined it.”

Grumbling Jacques pulled and plucked at the knot until it finally gave away. “Elizabeth Barrett Browning said that.”

“She did,” Lemony deadpanned. “She would also tell you to get a different tie because this one now is a wrinkled mess.”

“A black tie goes with this,” Jacques protested.

“Don’t you have an ochre one?” Lemony asked. “It goes better with the ring anyway.”

“We have five minutes…” Jacques managed, breaking out in sweat as he dug though his drawer in search of the other tie.

“Which is enough,” Lemony answered matter-of-factly. “Just… give it to me and don’t touch it anymore once I’ve put it on.”

Within seconds the tie was properly fastened and Jacques breathed a sigh of relief.

“Everything will be fine,” Lemony told him. “You’ve married a wonderful woman. And I should know… I knew another absolutely wonderful woman once… I recognize those qualities immediately…”

Overcome with sympathy, Jacques reached out and hugged his brother. Lemony would probably love Beatrice for the rest of his life. In his heart and in his mind there simply wasn’t room for anyone else. But the bitter heartbreak was gone from his eyes and had been slowly fading in the past couple of weeks. And it had everything to do with the wonderful woman he’d married.

Lemony genuinely adored Olivia as a sister and the feeling was entirely mutual. Olivia, in her own, affectionate way had taken the blanket that was their family and wrapped it firmly around his younger brother, including him pointedly in all sorts of family events.

Lemony was fascinated by Beatrice’s children and went out of his way to get to know them. To the children he was a source of fresh information about their parents and the lives that they’d never known about and Lemony had already spend many evenings relating everything he remembered about them.

There would always be a Beatrice-shaped hole in Lemony’s heart, but the rest of it was steadily filling up with the renewed affection of his expanded family and he was slowly mending because of it.

As Jacques steadied himself and made his way over to the library, he knew there were a million reasons to propose this afternoon.

They’d had a wonderful day strolling through the city, gazing at festively decorated store windows and getting some of their shopping done, but as she carefully drove the taxi home, Olivia realized that being surrounded by her ever-expanding family was the best gift the past year had given her.

Jacquelyn was next to her on the passenger seat, practically sitting backwards as she was discussing the use of various nifty V.F.D. gadgets with Violet, who was in the backseat, slightly squeezed in next to Klaus, Kit and Sunny.

To her great amusement, Klaus and Kit were really hitting it off lately and Olivia contributed that mostly to the fact that they had a very similar, rather sarcastic sense of humor. All three of the Baudelaire children had little patience with foolishness and hypocrisy, especially after they had endured both of that in abundance from various adults and guardians in the past eighteen months. Olivia often felt that Klaus was most irked by this, but had always been too polite to actually say something unless the situation really called for it. Kit had no such scruples and managed to help him get out of his shell more and more.

They boy was definitely growing in confidence. He had, after endless preparations and practice sessions finally competed in the vocabulary olympiad two weeks ago, managing to bring his team to victory when he had been able to flawlessly give the definition of the word: crepuscular.

It truly had been a moment of victory, not just for Klaus and his team, but for their little family as well. After everything the children had endured in the year and a half that was behind them, they were still standing strong. Olivia hadn’t known that he was able to feel so much pride, but in that moment her heart had almost felt too big for her chest as he watched Klaus triumphantly  lift the trophy into the air wile she, Jacques, Violet and Sunny clapped their hands red.

After a few difficult weeks and assisted by the guidance of Dr. Jack Jackson, Violet had decided that she really wanted to follow in her parents (both biological and adoptive) footsteps by becoming a V.F.D. volunteer. To both her and Jacques’ relief she wanted wait for another year so she could finish school, but after that she would be recruited.

And since her stunning inventing skills were already legendary within the organization, there were a great many volunteers extremely eager to become her mentor.

And even little Sunny had big changes ahead of her. In the new year she would start pre-school and out of all of the changes in her children’s lives, Olivia had to admit she was most nervous about that. Sunny was brilliant and resilient and she had no doubt the toddler would thrive in an environment where she could play and explore to her heart’s content, but Olivia would definitely miss having her around all the time.

Once Quigley had settled in with his brother, sister and aunt, the Baudelaires were quick to arrange another meeting to finally get to meet the third triplet, whom they’d heard so much of. The bonds of friendship between the Baudelaires and the Quagmires had become unbreakable with everything they had endured together and Olivia had a sneaky suspicion that in the future they would be a force to be reckoned with within the V.F.D.

Seeing the six children together, safe, reunited and cared for had also done wonders for Jacques’ state of mind and Olivia couldn’t help but smile as she thought of her husband.

He was her husband now in every sense of the word and the past weeks had been filled with more  happiness and tenderness than she could have ever anticipated. Jacques absolutely doted on her and Olivia, who hadn’t had anyone dote on her in her life, hadn’t been prepared for how safe and special it would make her feel.

Jacques Snicket had shaken her quiet, lonely, well-organized life completely upside-down, but once they had finally admitted their feelings for each other, they had embarked on the greatest adventure of all: their own lovestory. And it was everything and then so much more than she could have ever imagined.

It was waking up with a thrill of excitement every morning because they were together. It was lying in his arms, late at night, wrapped up securely in his embrace and still not wanting to go asleep because she didn’t want to miss a second of being with him.

It had taken her a little over thirty years, but now she had all the family and love she could wish for.

When she drove up to the townhouse she immediately noticed something was out of the ordinary. The steps towards the front door seemed to be bathing in a soft light, but no matter how much she squinted, she couldn’t quite make out what was causing it.

Around her the car had become very quiet.

Once she had parked the taxi in front of the house and she was able to get a better look she blinked in surprise at the glass jars filled with flowers and lights that were placed all the way up to the front door, leaving a path for someone to walk through.

“Right, there has been a slight change of plans,” Kit announced, her eyes dancing with excitement. “You need to hand the keys of the cab to Jacquelyn. We are going to take the kids out for pizza, a movie and an insane amount of ice-cream and you should go inside.”

“But how… what…?” Olivia stammered, her mind running a mile an hour. Jacques had mentioned  a surprise, but what on earth could he have planned?

“Just go!” Kit urged. “Knowing Jacques, he’s probably ready to combust from nerves… he’s been planning this for weeks, driving everyone up the wall with his perfectionism…”

“You’re going to love it,” Violet added.

“I… all right…” With shaking hands Olivia opened the door and slipped out of the car, the cold air of the afternoon welcome on her suddenly flushed cheeks. Five faces were pressed against the window, waving and urging her on and she took a few shaky steps towards the house.

The softly sparkling lights amidst the flowers gave the whole scene something magical and as she slowly walked up the path she could feel her heart fluttering nervously. The front door was slightly ajar and once she’d pushed it open fully she gasped in shock at what she saw. The flowers and lights outside had only been a little prelude to what was waiting for her inside.

The entire hallway was filled with flowers of all shapes and colors. They were arranged in tall vases and small jars, interspersed with sparkling, twinkling fairy lights that were glowing softly. The air was filled with a sweet, flowery fragrance and Olivia inhaled deeply, tears already stinging her eyes.

The flowers were arranged in such a way that they were creating a path that she followed slowly, turning around in circles every now and then to take it all in. The path lead to the stairway which was also completely covered in flowers and lights. Ascending carefully, Olivia realized this must have taken Jacques hours and hours to put together.  

Halfway up the stairs she noticed that books were starting to pop up between arrangements and she gasped in delight when she recognized her very favorite titles. There was Jack London’s ‘To build a fire?’ and several books by Samuel Beckett, an author she’d only just recently come to appreciate.

When she arrived on the second floor the path of flowers, lights and books led directly to the library and picking up her pace she hurried forward, her heart suddenly beating furiously.

The inside of the library looked more like a garden than an actual library and Olivia paused on the threshold, completely gobsmacked, trying her hardest to take everything in. Books were placed artfully in colorful displays of flowers and attached to the ceiling was a canopy entirely constructed out of flowers, fairy lights and books.

Underneath that canopy stood Jacques, wearing a dashing tuxedo and a nervous smile.

“Jacques!”

Suddenly she couldn’t get to him soon enough and she rushed forward, almost tripping in her heels.

He reached out to catch her, his arms coming securely around her and she looked up into his face, feeling light-headed and giddy.

“What’s all this then?” she asked breathlessly, grinning so hard her cheeks ached.

Smiling at her he bend down and brushed his lips against her, the affectionate gesture making her stomach flutter.

“I got to plan a surprise for you, remember?” he asked, his voice low.

Twisting slightly into his arms, Olivia looked around the room once more, trying to take in as much as possible.

“It looks amazing…” she said quietly. “All those flowers… and the books… they’re all new, aren’t they?”

Her gaze fell on a beautiful, hardcover edition of ‘Waiting for Gadot’. She had borrowed Jacques’ copy a few weeks ago after he had told her it was his absolute favorite book and she had instantly agreed with him that it was indeed brilliant.

Reaching out, she gently stroked the spy, almost as if she were petting the book.

“You deserve a copy of your own,” Jacques told her, before taking a deep breath, clearly steeling himself.

Immediately all thoughts of books were miraculously gone from her mind and she stared at him wide-eyed, her heart beginning to hammer furiously as he took her hands in his.

“Olivia, the first time I saw you, running after that trolley outside of Mulctuary Money Management I knew instantly just how special you were. And of course I messed up straight away…” He gave her a rueful smile and she blinked at him in surprise.

“I was supposed to approach you and show you a picture of a baby,” Jacques explained. “That’s how we usually recruit adult volunteers. But instead of braking, I accidentally hit the gas pedal when I first saw you and instead I almost ran you over…”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that, letting go of one of his hands so she could stroke his face. “I never knew that…”

Laughing as well, he turned his head to kiss the inside of her wrist. Then his expression became more sober. “Yes, well… my point is, I loved you right from the start and I know you don’t want me to say it anymore, but I hate that I ever made you feel, even for a moment, that I was indifferent towards you.”

“Oh Jacques…” No matter how often she told him that they had both made mistakes and that they were both responsible for the crossed wires in the first months of their marriage, Jacques was still having a hard time letting go of that guilt.

“I love you more than I have ever loved anyone before in my life,” he continued, his voice turning slightly hoarse.

And in that moment she was done for it. The tears that had already been so close started to roll down over her cheeks, their paths interrupted by the creases of her smile.

“You’ve given me a home and a family again and I swear that I will treasure you always. In the past few months I have thought on a few occasions that our story was over…” his voice caught at the last word and then there were tears on his face as well.

“I thought it was over but…” his voice cracked again and ended on a dry sob and he shook his head and clasped her hands tighter.

“I had a bit more speech prepared,” he confessed, chuckling through his tears. “Bear with me, this might take a while…”

Olivia was crying openly now, her vision blurring with tears.

Taking another deep breath, Jacques managed to go on: “I know now that we have only just begun. And I am so happy that we get to write a new chapter every day that we are together. Of course I realize that I never actually asked you if you wanted that, so…”

He let go of her left hand and reached into his pocket and Olivia’s eyes went wide as she realized what he was about to do.

From the inside pocket of his tuxedo he pulled a square, black velvet box and as he popped it open, he sank down to the floor on one knee.

The ring, with its citrine gemstone on a band of gold was  absolutely gorgeous and Olivia was instantly in love wit it. But more than anything else she was aware of the man kneeling in front of her, his dark eyes trained on her face, his hand firmly clapped around hers.

“Olivia, you’re the love of my life and I want nothing more than to make you happy. So I’m asking you, will you let me? Will you let me be your husband and will you be my wife?”

He was actually looking nervous, as if there was even the slightest possibility that she would ever refuse him.

“Yes!” She was laughing, crying and sobbing at the same time and she must look like a mess, but at her answer Jacques’ face split into the biggest, most wondrous smile she’d ever seen on him. Taking the ring out of its cushion, he very carefully slid it on her ring finger, the ring fitting as if it was made for her.

Then he was coming up just as she was falling into his arms and she buried her hands into his hairs as his lips hungrily sought hers.

He loved her. And with his arms around her and his mouth pressed against hers Olivia knew without a trace of a doubt that he would always love her.

Just as she would always love him.

Their story was far from over yet.

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

J submitted this actual dialogue from the show

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

How could this not be my avatar???? And my screensaver???? And also my entire life in one picture

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

J suggested Olaf for this one, but in my opinion Jacques is a the human embodiment of this text. 

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

Jacques Snicket: Where is Olivia?

Lemony Snicket: Don't worry about her.

Jacques Snicket: Oh, I am sorry. Have you met me?

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

Olivia rollin’ around while no one is looking.

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

A new set of approaching footsteps alerted them to the arrival of Lemony, Kit and Jacquelyn and Olivia smiled as she noticed that both women had their arms casually wrapped around each other’s waists.

Progress had apparently been made.

To her surprise Kit hugged her tightly once she’d reached her.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” she whispered quietly.

“Thank you for protecting the children,” Olivia replied softly. Then her gaze drifted to Jacquelyn for a moment before looking back at Kit, her eyebrow raised in question.

Kit blushed faintly and grinned. “How about I drop by for a cup of tea really soon and we catch up?”

Nodding eagerly, Olivia grinned back, her heart swelling. “Let’s do that!”

It was funny really, but before marrying Jacques, she had never given much thought to having an extensive family, but now she had two sisters and a brother-in-law and she couldn’t be happier about that.  

“It’s a pleasure to finally, officially meet you,” Lemony told her as he shook her hand solemnly. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“And I about you,” Olivia replied, tightening her fingers around his. “It’s good to see you, Lemony.”

“You also saved my life tonight,” he continued, “and for that I will always be in your debt.”

Olivia studied the man in front of her. He was taller and more grave-looking than Jacques, but there was definitely a resemblance between the two brothers.

They were both dark and broad-shouldered and both their eyes had that spark of determination and principle. They both had a certain way with words that indicated a thoroughly well-read mind. But Lemony’s eyes were a great deal more melancholy than Jacques’ and there was this faint air of loneliness coming from him that Olivia immediately picked up on, because she could emphasize only too well with that feeling.

Lemony’s separation from his siblings might have been largely self-induced, there was no denying that he had suffered greatly from it.

“Well, you saved all of our lives as well,” she answered, smiling warmly at him. “So let’s just agree that we look after each other.”

He gave her a tentative, but genuine smile at that, his eyes filling with wonder and next to her Jacques inhaled deeply, his arms tightening around her.

“What’s going to happen to Esmé Squalor and her henchmen?” Klaus inquired, a deep frown of concern between his eyes.

“A V.F.D. van is on its way,” Jacquelyn replied. “They’re going to be interrogated by a special unit of volunteers first and then they’ll be handed over to the police. We have a few volunteers working with them as well, so rest assured that neither one of them is ever going to see anything again without a set of bars in front of them.”

Taking a deep breath and blinking furiously, Olivia tried to fight off the sudden wave of exhaustion that was washing over her, but it was to very little avail. All the adrenaline that had kept her going in the past couple of hours had suddenly leaked out of her as if someone had pulled the plug and now she felt tired enough to fall asleep standing up.

Shivering in the chilly air of the unheated building, she involuntarily leaned back into Jacques’ warm, solid for behind her.

Immediately his arms tightened around her even more, drawing her closer against his chest, one hand coming up to gently rub her upper arms in an attempt to warm her up.

Giving in to the temptation she rested her head against his shoulder, wishing she could simply crawl into his embrace.

All of a sudden the back of her head, where she’d been knocked unconscious was throbbing and her whole body was aching again from being tied up.

The bun that she’d so carefully pinned up that morning had almost completely come undone and strands of hair were plastered against her face and neck.

Tucking a few strands behind her ears she winched as she noticed the raw, chaffed skin around her wrists where the cables had cut in.

Catching her hand gently in his, Jacques examined the wounds, his brow furrowing in worry.

“Your injuries need treatment,” he told her softly, his concerned eyes only a few inches from hers. Letting go of her hand he brushed his fingertips over her brow and she hissed in pain as he came near a cut on her forehead she hadn’t even realized was there.

“You’re bruised and cut all over.” He was now very softly stroking her hair, his other arm still secure around her and it took everything not to melt into him.

“It’s only superficial,” she replied, her stomach suddenly fluttering. It was probably the aftermath of a few very stressful hours, she told herself sternly. But to have him hold her and fuss over her admittedly did feel good.

He smiled somewhat sadly at her words, before suggesting: “How about we go home?”

Home. It was remarkable how her entire body could warm up from such a simple word as she felt herself begin to smile.

“That sounds wonderful!”

Looking up she met the slightly amused expressions of Jacquelyn and Kit and she blinked at that. Then her gaze wandered to the children. They were still standing close, huddled together, their faces pale and tired. The poor dears looked ready to drop off any second and suddenly Olivia was in a great hurry to get home.

After being unconscious for part of the evening and the whirlwind of events that had happened her sense of time was slightly askew, but she suspected it was somewhere around midnight. Tomorrow was Jacques’ day off, but as soon as they got home she would discuss with him whether or not to have Violet and Klaus absent from school the next day. They were now both completely caught up with their studies and a single day wasn’t going to do any harm. As for herself, it would probably be a long day at work after all of tonight’s excitement, but after that they could have a nice, relaxing weekend together.

Except there was still the issue of Esmé and her henchmen. Looking at Lemony, Jacquelyn and Kit she felt suddenly guilty for leaving them to deal with that.

“Shouldn’t we wait until the other volunteers have arrived?” she asked Jacques quietly.

“Are you kidding me?” Kit replied instead, giving her a fond, albeit slightly incredulous look. “Jacques is probably only a few seconds away from picking you up and carrying you to the cab so he can wrap you up in his most comfortable trauma blanket.”

From the way Jacques was scowling at his twin Olivia gauged that he thought the notion was completely ridiculous as well and she rolled her eyes.

Kit merely smirked. “Go home!” she told them. “We’ll clean up here.”

“Thank you.”

With a smile, Olivia reached for the children and the five of them headed towards the exit. With her stiff and aching limbs, walking was definitely a lot more challenging than she’d anticipated and she was immensely thankful for Jacques’ supportive arm around her.

She was aware of his continuing worried glances and she tried to pick up her step. Really, all she needed was a hot shower and the quicker they got home, the better.

“Careful…” he murmured quietly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Do you think you can reach the door? I’ll be happy to carry you otherwise.”

“I’m fine,” she reassured him quickly. “Actually, I think that walking is good for me now.”

He looked wholly unconvinced at that, keeping his arms still around her, carefully monitoring her every step.

When they finally made it outside, the night was pitch-dark and cold, the sky cloudy. It had stopped raining, but an icy wind made it feel like it was already freezing.

Olivia shivered, partly because of the cold night’s air and partly because Jacques finally released her and she missed the warmth of his arms instantly.

But seconds later he had shrugged out of his brown leather jacket and carefully put it around her shoulders, his scent immediately enveloping her. It was still warm from him wearing it and she couldn’t help but snuggle into it.

“I’m going to get the cab,” he told her and the children. “It’s parked out of view behind a dumpster, but I don’t think you should walk that far now. Wait here for me and keep and eye on each other.”

Jogging away he disappeared from sight and Olivia turned to the children.

“We’ll be home soon,” she comforted them. “I’m sorry about the Chinese takeout, but we’ll do a do-over quickly.”

Both Klaus and Sunny smiled at her words, but Violet averted her look, her still expression pinched and worry immediately tugged at Olivia’s heart. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

Moments later the taxi pulled up in front of them and the four of them climbed in, the children in the backseat and Olivia on the passenger seat in the front.

Slipping her arms through the sleeves of Jacques’ jacket, she pulled the woolen collar up to her cheeks and inhaled.

The taxi already smelled like home, a mix of leather, books and sandalwood and she was starting to feel drowsy again.

Looking up in the review mirror to check on the children she saw that Sunny had already fallen asleep on Klaus’ lap and that the boy was slouching on his seat, his glasses slightly askew, but smiling softly.

Violet however was gazing out of the window, the corners of her mouth tugged downwards and a deep frown between her eyes.

“Violet, are you all right?” Olivia asked quietly, straining her neck as she tried to turn and look the girl in the eye.

At her question, the eldest Beaudelaire startled up and gave her a quick, perfunctory smile that came nowhere near her eyes.

“I’m fine,” she replied quickly, her voice sounding so strained that Olivia’s own throat winched in sympathy.  

Something was most definitely not all right, but dredging it up now wouldn’t help matters.

Jacques started the engine and turned the cab, heading for the main road. Once they were well on their way and much to Olivia’s shock, he reached out once more and wrapped his fingers around her hand.

Steering the cab with one hand, he kept his eyes carefully on the road, but his thumb continued to slowly and insistently stroke the back of her hand.

With her heart hammering furiously and her eyes burning, Olivia tried to make sense of what was happening. He had never done anything like that before and she couldn’t make sense of why he would do it now. It made it all too easy to pretend that he did have feelings for her and that he was as shaken by tonight’s events as she was.

If tonight had taught her anything, it was that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t rationalize herself our of love with Jacques Snicket. And in those terrifying moments when she’d watched that cable inch closer and closer to the pool she’d known with a blinding clarity that if she were to die in the next few moments her biggest regret would be that she’d lied to him about her feelings.

She’d been given a chance to set that right and as she concentrated on the warm feel of his hand clasped around her, she quietly started to work up the courage to rectify that mistake.

It was only a twenty-minute drive before they were home again once Jacques had parked the car in front of the yellow townhouse, Olivia peered through the windshield at the soft light spilling through the tall windows and the pumpkins that decorated the porch in preparation of Halloween,  feeling her heart surge.

She was home again and after the events of the past night that was nothing short of a miracle. She was so preoccupied with taking in the view that she never noticed Jacques getting out of the cab and walking around it to open the door for her. Startled, she took the hand he held out to her and let him help her out of the car. It felt like a ridiculous indulgence, but she couldn’t deny that after sitting still for some time, her body was feeling noticeably more stiff.

“Are you all right?” Jacques asked as she straightened with obvious difficulty, concern written all over his face.

“I’m fine,” she grimaced, feeling a little foolish. “Just feeling like I’m a hundred years old.”

He gave a small smile at that, but his expression remained grave. Then his hands were back on her hips, guiding her gently towards the house.

“Let’s get you inside.”

All the while her heart was beating rapidly against her ribcage. She kept trying to tell herself that he was just looking out for her and that she shouldn’t read anything more into it, but it was hard to stick to that when he was being so gentle and so careful with her.

The children had already climbed the few steps up to the front door and stepped eagerly into the foyer as soon as Jacques had unlocked the door, their faces grey with exhaustion and Olivia noticed that Sunny already dozing against Klaus’ shoulder.

“Can any of you tuck in Sunny?” Jacques asked softly. “I want to check Olivia’s injuries.” As he spoke the words he pulled her closer against his side and Olivia blinked.

“It’s just a few scrapes, nothing serious!” she protested.

“I’ll do it,” Klaus answered promptly as he hefted Sunny a little higher. Turning towards her, he hugged her with his spare arm.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” he said softly.

“I am too,” Olivia replied, tears welling up in her eyes as she hugged him back. “And I’m willing to bet the three of you were very much involved in my rescue… I want to hear everything tomorrow.”

Klaus smiled back at her, a twinkle of pride in his eyes. “You will.”

“Olivia…” Sunny mumbled drowsily as she leaned in to kiss her brow and the tears that had threatened to spill all along finally started to roll down over her cheeks.

“I love you all so much,” Olivia whispered tearfully, releasing Klaus and Sunny. “And now that Esmé has been caught, we don’t have to worry anymore.”

“All of our enemies have finally been defeated,” Jacques said solemnly and Olivia leaned back against his shoulder, relief flooding through her.

Klaus smiled and nodded sleepily. “Well, good night…I’ll see you tomorrow…”

During the conversation, Violet had kept to herself, standing back a little and mostly studying the floor. As Klaus and Sunny began to head upstairs, she scurried after them, mumbling a barely audible ‘Sleep well…’ as she passed.

“Violet… wait!” Before she could think the better of it, Olivia reached out and caught the girls’ arm.

Violet flinched and froze, awaiting the next words with a bowed head.

“Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” Olivia asked softly, trying to catch her gaze. “You’ve been this withdrawn all evening…”

Dimly she was aware that Klaus and Sunny were ascending the stairs, giving them some privacy, but most of her attention was focussed on Violet’s pale face and tightly clenched fists.

When no answer was forthcoming, she tried again. “Is anything wrong?”

Violet sighed deeply and opened her mouth, but it actually took her two attempts to make her voice work.

“I’m so sorry…” she managed eventually, her voice cracking on the last syllable.  

Whatever she had been expecting, an apology hadn’t been one of them and Olivia blinked. “What on earth are you sorry for?”

That question finally made Violet look up at her, her eyes wide with anguish, her lips trembling.

“I almost killed you!” she exploded, as her tears began to fall.

“What?” Olivia exclaimed and next to her she felt Jacques startle violently, his fingers digging into her hip for a moment as he grasped her tightly.

“I pulled the wrong cables and I almost electrocuted you!” Violet answered, “I could have killed you!”

Burying her face into her hands, she sobbed helplessly and a moment later Olivia had wrapped both of her arms around her, pulling her into a hug. Violet continued to cry and shake so violently that it almost felt like an electric current was attached to her and Olivia rocked her slowly back and forth as she stroked her hair and whispered soothing words into her hair.

Tears of her own continued to roll silently down over her cheeks, her heart squeezing tightly. Despite the sympathy she had managed to feel towards Esmé through the course of the evening, she would never forgive her for upsetting her child like this and as a streak of protectiveness surged through her, Olivia knew instantly just who to blame.

“You did nothing wrong,” she said insistently, pulling back a little so that she could look Violet in the eye. “If anything, you save my life. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have run out of time before Lemony had been able to untie me. Without you shutting off the electricity I would have electrocuted myself by kicking Esmé into that pool.

And it was because of her that I was in any kind of danger to begin with. She abducted me. She tied me to that chair and attached those cables to me. Had anything gone wrong, she would have been to blame for it.

But it didn’t go wrong, because you were there stop her.”

During her talk Violet had calmed down a bit, but her face was still a picture of misery. “But I almost messed up… when I heard that pulley rattle and I saw that cable dropping… I was so terrified…”

“Oh honey…” Hugging her once more, Olivia told her: “Of course you were terrified, that was a horrible thing to watch. But it wasn’t your fault. You’re a mechanic, not a psychic. Had anything happened, Esmé would have been responsible, not you.”

“And I would have been responsible as well,” Jacques chimed in. He had to release her as she was hugging Violet, but his hand still lingered on her lower back.

“I told you to cut those cables, the first and the second time… you were operating under my orders. And I felt horrible to have to ask that of you, but I also knew you were Olivia best, if not only change of surviving.”

“I wanted to come tonight,” Violet confessed in a small voice, wiping her cheeks. “I wanted to help and I know that I’m good at solving things… or inventing things… but tonight, for the first time I realized how badly things could have gone wrong if I make a mistake, or if I’m not able to fix something…” She was quiet for a few moments, suddenly looking pensive.

“This is what it’s all about, isn’t?” she asked eventually. “Being a volunteer… it’s about trying with all your might to put out fires… but sometimes trying is just not enough… sometimes the other side wins.”

Olivia’s heart cracked at the realization that in all likelihood tonight the last part of Violet that was still a child had disappeared into the shadows.

Now there was a woman standing in front of her. A brave, intelligent, kind young woman who, due to terrible circumstances and the hatred of a two people more than twice her age had been forced to grow up much too quickly.

This woman was brilliant in her own way, but inwardly Olivia wept for the girl she had been.

And from the hoarse tone of Jacques’ voice, he’d realized the exact same thing.

“That is why we are volunteers,” he answered gravely. “We will not always succeed, but if we stop trying… the world will succumb to flames.”

“But the most important thing tonight is that you did succeed,” Olivia told her. “You saved my life and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“Nor could I,” Jacques added, sounding choked.

Reaching out at the same time, they both got Violet into a hug that mostly seemed to consist of a lot of interwinding limbs, but when they pulled back, the girl was finally truly smiling again.

“Try and get some sleep, honey,” Olivia told her gently. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

When the eldest Baudelaire had gone up to her room, Olivia turned towards Jacques.

“I want to believe that we have erased all of her worries, but I don’t think that’s the case,” she said.

“I don’t think so either,” Jacques agreed. “There’s a man I’ve worked with in the past. His name is Jack Jackson and he is a psychiatrist. Other volunteers, myself included, have often managed to find him when a particular case or incident effected them. I think it would help Violet a great deal to talk with him… I’ll give him  call first thing tomorrow.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Olivia replied, shaking her head in relief. She could have known that the V.F.D. would at one point recruit a therapist amongst their ranks, them being the self-sufficient organization that they were.

“But now I’m going to take care of your injuries first,” Jacques announced firmly and when she opened her mouth to dismiss them, he added: “And I don’t want to hear a word about them not being serious.”

He slipped his arm around her waist again and steered her towards the living room where he guided her towards the couch.

“I”m going to get a first aid kit. You take of your shoes, I want to look at your ankles as well,” he instructed.

For a mad second Olivia wanted to ask him if he was propositioning her, but she bit down the comment and bend down to untie her ankle boots.

Jacques returned seconds later, carrying a rather sizable first aid kit and he first knelt down in front of her to take both her feet in his hands.

“There are no noticeable wounds or injuries,” he concluded after a close inspection, running his fingertips over every inch of her feet.

“Do they hurt now?” he asked and Olivia tried not to be distracted by the feel of his warm hands  on her bare skin.

“Not at all,” she answered, shaking her head. “Esmé hadn’t tied them too tightly, which is why I was able to wriggle out of those binds to begin with.”

He smiled at that. “I’m glad, although I imagine they’ll be quite stiff and sore tomorrow.”

Getting up, he sat down on the couch next to her. “What happened tonight anyway? Who took you?”

“I was going to get Chinese takeout,” Olivia recalled. “It was raining and I was a little distracted… I was walking across Drury Lane when I noticed someone moving past me… When I turned to look who it was someone else knocked me out.”

“Knocked you out where?” Jacques asked alarmed, his eyes fitting over her, looking for injuries.

“The back of my head,” Olivia clarified.

“Turn around,” he prompted her and moments later she felt his fingers into her hair,  sweeping gently across her scalp.

When he came across the spot where she’d been hit she hissed softly and he froze immediately. Very carefully she felt him pull her hair aside to access the damage.

“It’s not a wound,” he told her eventually. “But there’s quite a bit of swelling. You must have one hell of a headache.”

“It comes and goes,” Olivia admitted, turning around to face him again. “Right now it’s not too bad… just a bit of dull throbbing.”

“You could have a concussion,” Jacques said doubtfully. “Perhaps I should call you a doctor.”

His concern for her was heartwarming, but Olivia really didn’t feel like rushing to the ER at this time of night. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” she reassured him. “But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll set my alarm tonight.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said vaguely, leaning in to turn his attention to the cut on her forehead. All of a sudden his face was only inches away from hers and Olivia felt her breath catch. He was looking at her temple instead of into her eyes, but still his nearness was overwhelming. She could see the stubble on his jaw, the intent gaze of his eyes and the turn of his mouth as he inspected the wound.

The last time he’d been this close to her had been the second before he’d kissed her, on that strange evening in the village of the fowl devotees. It felt like a lifetime ago, but having him so close now, with his scent washing over her brought it all back.

He drew back a little to open the first aid kit and took out a bit of antiseptic gauze that he applied to her temple.

“It’s not a deep cut,” he reassured her. “I just want to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

She gave him a wobbly smile, unable to talk and for a long moment he gazed into her eyes. It was almost as if he was trying to decipher something and her stomach curled.

Then he blinked and discarded the gauze before looking down at her wrists. Carefully taking her hands in his he lifted them so that he could take a proper look.

“These had me worried most,” he said quietly, a frown appearing between his eyes. “They must hurt you a great deal.”

Out of her injuries, her wrists were most painful and Olivia nodded. At quite a few places the cables had cut so deeply into her skin that they had completely broken it, leaving deep red, bloody traces all around both of her wrists.

“I need to disinfect the wounds,” Jacques told her, his face apologetic. “You don’t want these to get infected, but I’m afraid they’re going to sting quite a bit.”

“It’s fine…” she replied, cringing as she realized how breathless her voice was sounding.

He applied some iodine to a cotton wool and gently dabbed it on her wrist, holding her hand in his.

It did sting quite badly, but Olivia was too captured by the way he was touching her to really notice it. He touched her like she was made out of porcelain, as if he were afraid she would break if he handled her too roughly.  

Her hand was cradled safely into his much larger one as he worked on the injuries, his fingers gentle on her skin.

When he had cleaned both of her wrists, he took out some bandages and carefully dressed both of the cuts, securing the ends of the bandages with bits of band-aid.

All the while her heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure he could hear her.

“Not too tight?” he asked once he was finished, looking up anxiously into her eyes.

“It’s perfect…” she managed, her throat so dry that she was surprised she had managed to answer him at all.

“Olivia…” he started again, still holding both of her hands securely into his own. Suddenly the air between them was sparking with electricity and Olivia felt her stomach lurch.

Her musings of earlier that evening came rushing back at her. She’d been given a second chance. A chance to tell him how she really felt about him. He might not reciprocate her feelings, but at least she wouldn’t have to live with this lie hanging between them any longer.

Telling him wouldn’t change anything and she’d never pressure him for more, but if, by some extremely unfortunate twist of fate she would ever find herself in mortal peril again, she’d have peace knowing that she’d said all she had wanted to say.

“Jacques…” she started, searching for the words to tell him and then deciding to just plunge in. “Last week I told you that I’m no longer romantically interested in you…”

“Yes!” he pounded on her words, looking almost relieved that she had brought the subject up.

“It’s all right… I know why you said that, I know what you meant by them…”

“Oh…” feeling taken aback she blinked at him. He looked rather anxious and she realized with a start that he’d probably known all along that she hadn’t been telling the truth.  She knew she was a terrible liar, when she was younger she’d never managed to get away with anything, as if the truth had always been written on her forehead for the world to see. Apparently, she hadn’t managed to fool Jacques either.

It would explain why he had been so upset with her earlier that week.

“I’m sorry…” she muttered, looking down at their clasped hands in order to avoid seeing the rejection in his eyes.

“No… don’t be…” Shaking his head, he gripped her hands tighter, his face grave. “It wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I caused this situation and I’m going to fix it.”

At his words her heart sank to her feet in trepidation. “What do you mean?” To her own ears her voice sounded terrified.

“I’ve made you feel this way, but I’m going to turn all of that around,” he answered, his face determined. “I’ll do whatever it takes, I’ll give you all the space you need, but…”

He rubbed his hands over his face, looking desperate and Olivia was starting to feel close to panicking.

Fixing the situation… giving her space… it sounded like he was pulling away from her even further and the mere thought made her insides crumble.

“I know I can’t ‘make’ you feel anything,” Jacques continued, his eyes pleading. “But you cared for me once… loved me even perhaps? And I’m going to do everything in my power to earn that back.”

His words made absolutely no sense, no matter how many times she replayed them in her head and all the while she was still staring at him, mouth open, absolutely gobsmacked.

“Will you let me?” he asked softly. “I won’t pressure you, I swear… And if your feelings for me never come back, I’ll accept that, but I just want to try, because I want to make you happy… you deserve all the love and happiness in the world…”

Something inside her brain clicked at his declaration, only it didn’t make sense. Not only did he actually believe that she no longer loved him, he was also heartbroken about it.

It just didn’t make any sense.

“I lied.” The simple confession tore its way from her throat, her eyes filling with tears, while Jacques’ eyes widened in shock.

“I’m sorry…” she breathed miserably. “I told you I didn’t have feelings for you anymore, but it wasn’t true. I’ve been in love with you from the first moment that I’ve met you. And I’ve tried, but I don’t know how to stop loving you…”

There was a lot more she wanted to say, a lot more apologizing she felt like she had to do, but she never got the chance, because he bent forward and pressed his lips firmly against hers.

From the second his mouth covered hers, everything about their first kiss came rushing back to her. The insistent pressure of his lips against hers, the warmth of his body so close to her own and the way his mustache scrapped the sensitive skin of her upper lip.

And then his arms where around her and the memory of that first kiss paled in comparison to the glorious reality of being kissed by Jacques Snicket right now, in this moment. Of their own accord her arms wound themselves around his neck and when she slid her hands into his thick hair, he growled against her mouth, capturing her lower lip and sucking it into his mouth so he could lave the inside with long strokes of his tongue.

As her body flooded with heat, she gasped in surprise and he used that to his advantage to deepen the kiss even further.

With her head spinning, Olivia melted against him, burying her fingers deeper into his hair, that felt even softer than she’d imagined it.

He pulled her closer, his hands stroking her sides, the force of his kiss tipping her onto her back and she squealed as she felt herself fell back into the soft cushions of the couch with Jacques on top of her.

Keeping his mouth fused to hers, he leaned on his elbows as not to crush her with his much larger frame and carried on kissing her. His warm body covering hers made her feel safe in a way she’d never felt before and she stretched happily against him.

Eventually he pulled back a few inches, his dark eyes roaming her face.

“Please say it again….” he pleaded breathlessly.

Her mind was a jumbled mush of feelings, emotions and a lot of confusion, but after a few seconds her brain caught up.

“I love you, Jacques,” she repeated earnestly.

He kissed her again, with breath-taking tenderness this time.

“I love you too,” he told her then, keeping his forehead pressed to hers as if he needed every bit of physical closeness he could get.  “I’ve loved you from the second you appeared in front of my cab… I couldn’t believe my luck when you agreed to marry me.”

Unbidden, tears started to leak from the corners of her eyes at his confession and he leaned in once more to kiss the salty trails away from both corners of her eyes.

“I don’t understand…” she whispered. “You told me back then that you were only marrying me so that we could adopt the children…”

She wanted so desperately to believe him, but after months of convincing herself that he felt only friendship for her and trying to put a lid on her own feelings for him, hearing him say that he loved her was almost too big to comprehend.

He sighed deeply, his expression falling. “I was afraid,” he replied eventually. “I’ve had my share of relationships in the past, but for the past decade and half I’ve been more or less married to the V.F.D. And the way I feel about you… I’ve never felt that for anyone before.

I used to think that I had it so much better together than Lemony… that I would never let my heart rule my good sense… but that night in the village, after we’d said our goodbyes…after our kiss…”

His face lit up at the memory and for the first time Olivia realized he’d treasured that memory as much as she had.

“Olaf appeared the second after you drove away and my mind was still so complete occupied with you that I forgot to take my percussions. I followed him blindly into that bar, never thinking about traps of accomplices… all I could think about was you and how I could follow you to the carnival as soon as possible.

I almost paid for that stupidity with my life, which is one thing, but I also jeopardized the safety of you and the children… both ours and the Quagmires.”

As his explanation expanded, pieces of the puzzle started to click into place and Olivia found that she understood him only too well. After all, hadn’t she had a similar kind of emotion only a week ago?

“Don’t think for a moment that I blame you,” Jacques hastened to stress, when she gazed up at him pensively. “Meeting you and falling in love with you is the best thing that ever happened to me. It was my own inability to focus that messed things up.”

“Why did you marry me?” Olivia asked. His explanation made perfect sense, but him marrying her, basically tying his life to hers seemed at odds with his feeling that she was interfering with his ability to make decisions.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of the children getting separated,” Jacques answered. His fingers were almost hypnotically caressing her brow and hair, making her stomach flutter. “And also… I wanted to be with you… I couldn’t stay away from you… I knew you would be perfect adoptive mother for the children and when that fool of a Poe told you you couldn’t be their guardian because you weren’t married something in me snapped…

I told myself I’d keep my head clear this time, that I wouldn’t risk your safety again. I fell back to what I knew best which was how to be a volunteer. I pushed down my feelings for you and convinced myself that it was only my own heart that I was bruising in the process…”

He paused, taking a shaking breath. “But I was wrong, wasn’t I?” he asked softly, his face contrite. “I’ve hurt you a great deal over the past few months. It took me a while to realize how badly I had screwed up and then I tired to tell you how I felt after Poe’s visit, but by then you had already moved on and you weren’t in love with me any longer.

And I know I had no one to blame for that but myself, but it still hurt.”

“Oh my goodness, Jacques… I did love you… I do love you…” she broke across him, regret about her actions almost choking her.

He’d been trying to tell her that he loved her last week and she’d cut him off and trampled all over his heart.

“After Poe’s visit I was just so scared… I thought I’d messed everything up. And I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you and our family should Poe decide that the children needed to be relocated. I thought things would become less complicated if I was less emotionally invested in it… and I almost ruined everything…”

“No you didn’t… he told her firmly. “After the way that I’ve treated you it was only natural that you would be confused… You got tangled up in the mess that I made and I am so sorry about that.”

They’d both made quite a mess by not talking to each other properly, she realized. They could have been in a happy, loving marriage for months, had any of the had the courage to address the elephant in the room.

“Do you really love me?” Like him, she needed the confirmation, needed to hear him say it once more.

“My Olivia,” he whispered frantically, stealing tiny kisses between each word. “I love you so much…”

Sighing blissfully, Olivia just contemplated that she would be quite happy to stay here, on this couch with him for the rest of her life when he pulled away from her and sat up.

Pushing down her disappointment, she realized it was probably better if they both went upstairs to get some sleep, especially after the strenuous evening they’d had, but before she could swing her feet down, he tucked her between the back of the couch and his own body, pulling the quilt they kept on the armrest of the couch securely over her.

“You need to rest,” he told her, pillowing her head on his shoulder.

Smiling senselessly, she snuggled into his side, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“You really didn’t know how much in love with you I am?” he asked, his voice low and content as he wrapped his arms around her once more. “I often felt like I was the most obvious love-struck idiot in the world.”

“I really didn’t know,” she answered absent-mindedly, too distracted by the feel of his warm, sturdy chest underneath her and the way his arms were cradling her.

“Before… when we were still looking for the children I thought you could be, but after that I assumed you had simply grown bored with me.”

Only he hadn’t. He still loved her and her heart felt ready to burst with happiness.

Against her, Jacques had grown very still and then a gentle hand tipped her head back and a pair of dark, remorseful eyes met hers.

“I really made you feel that way?” He sounded absolutely devastated and Olivia cursed her thoughtless answer.

Knowing Jacques he was going to beat himself up over this for weeks to come and in the end it didn’t even matter. They were together, they loved each other and they had their children. In the end that was all that mattered.

“I will never forgive myself,” he whispered.

“Never?” she asked, quirking her eyebrow, hoping that by calling on their old joke, his mood would lighten somewhat.

He smiled at her words, but a hint of sadness remained.

“Well, at least not for a very long time.”

“How about I cut you a deal instead,” she offered, determined to convince him that he wasn’t the only one blame.

“You forgive me for saying that I no longer had feelings for you even though that was blatantly untrue and you forgive yourself for trying to protect me and the children by keeping your feelings towards yourself, seeing that your intentions were noble.”

“Hmm…” he pretended to think over her offer, the lines around his eyes crinkling.

“I have a counter-offer,” he answered eventually. “I forgive you instantly and take a little while longer to forgive myself. In the meantime I get to plan a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” she echoed, bewildered.

“A surprise,” he insisted. “Something to show you how much I love you. I’m sure it’ll make the process of forgiving myself go a lot quicker.” His expression made it clear that he was teasing now, but he was finally truly smiling and Olivia succumbed.

“All right,” she whispered, cuddling closer. “Deal. I can’t wait to find out what you’re planning tough.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he grinned back before kissing her fiercely and that was the last thing either one of them said for a long time.

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

Are Jacques and Olivia ever actually going to confess their love to each other because I can’t stand this for much longer

i know, they are both infuriating. 

Stay tuned for the next chapter though. Because after being kidnapped and almost electrocuted Jacques has firmly resolved to never, ever let Olivia out of his arms again. 

That might eventually prompt a confession... 

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

His brother was downstairs, alive and well, calmly conversing with Esmé Squalor, but the only thing Jacques could focus on was the cable hanging only a precarious few inches above the pool. It would only take a couple of minutes at best before the cable would hit the water. And even before that, any disturbance could lead to the cable getting splattered and Olivia being electrocuted.

“You need to find the right wire to cut,” he told Violet, as he pulled her back towards panel, no longer bothering to keep his voice quiet.

A few feet away from them, Kit was shepherding Klaus and Sunny back to the wall.  

The eldest Baudelaire let out a horrified gasp, tears starting to trickle down her face.

“Jacques, I can’t…” she whimpered. “What if I make another mistake? I could kill Olivia…”

“Esmé will most definitely kill Olivia if we don’t act soon,” he shot back. “You are her only chance right now.” Putting his hands on her shoulders, he added: “I know that you’re scared and I wish I didn’t have to ask this of you… but no-one knows more about electricity than you…”

Taking a few deep breaths, Violet tried to steady herself. “I’ll need some light,” she said eventually, her voice quivering like a feather.

Directing the light of his spyglass to the panel, Jacques gave her an encouraging nod. “You can do this, kiddo. I have absolute faith in you!’

Taking a deep breath, Violet trailed her fingers across the wires once more, frowning slightly when she came across a particularly complicated knot.

“Of course…” she muttered quietly, “how could I have missed that before…”

Pulling the Swiss Army Knife from her pocket, she gave him an hesitant look. “I think I’ve figured it out…” she said softly, doubt clearly written over her face. But I’m not sure if I’m sure…”

It was an impossible decision. If Violet was wrong again the cable would hit the water straight away. If they waited any longer, the cable would hit the water of its own accord or Esmé would simply cut it. If Olivia died because of Violet’s decision, she would never forgive herself. If Olivia died because he refused to make one, he would never forgive himself either.

It was completely unfair to put a child in that position and in that moment Jacques had never hated anyone as deeply as he hated Esmé Squalor.

But unless he made a decision right now, Esmé Squalor would win.

“Cut it!” he ordered Violet. “I take full responsibility for the consequences.”

Hooking the tip of the knife underneath the wire, Violet squeezed her eyes close, tears leaking out of its corner as she turned the blade towards her and pulled. A moment later the building was coved in a blackness so deep that Jacques felt himself swaying on his feet, his entire sense of orientation momentarily gone.

Then a faint humming sound started and seconds later pale, white light illuminated the space.

“The emergency generator kicked in,” Violet whispered urgently, her face deathly pale and eerie in the bleak light. “Did the pulley stop turning?”

Jacques dashed towards the railing and pointed his spyglass towards the ceiling. To his immense relief the contraption had come to a halt. He gave Violet a reassuring smile and the girl sagged against the wall, shaking all over. Then he turned his gaze downwards and immediately his heart stopped.

Esmé was standing in front of referee chair, turned towards Lemony, the harpoon gun in her hand.

“You can be damn sure my beef is with you!” she said harshly, her pretty face twisted with rage. “And it’s going to end right here…”

Slowly she lifted the gun higher, aiming at Lemony’s chest.

Lemony flinched almost unnoticeably and Jacques felt sure that anyone who knew him less well than he did wouldn’t have picked up on this little sign of nervousness.

“Surely you have more to say than that,” he said, his voice completely composed. “After all that effort you’ve put in getting me here, you’re just going to murder me in cool blood and that will be that?”

He was trying to stall, buy himself some time, Jacques realized and from the murderous look on Esmé’s face, she realized the same thing.

“There’s only one thing I want…” Esmé snarled, as she wrapped her finger around the tricker and squinted her eyes.

But then, just as she was about to pull, Olivia’s feet swung forward, delivering an enormous kick to her shoulders.

Esmé screamed in surprise, her entire body flailing. In reflex her arms shot up, the gun flying out of her hand and into the pool and then Olivia kicked again, sending Esmé sprawling into the water after it.

“Untie my hands!” Olivia yelled at Lemony. “Quickly, please!”

Lemony moved behind her and pulled an army knife from his pocket, identical to the one Jacques was carrying. Quickly and deftly he cut through the cables and Olivia groaned in relief as she was finally able to move her limbs again.

Meanwhile, Esmé was still in the pool, swimming with quick, hurried strokes toward the ladder across the pool, determined to get away.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Kit muttered menacingly. Swiftly she moved to the stairs and hurried down.

Assisted by Lemony, Olivia slid off the chairs, but as soon as she was on solid ground, her legs collapsed underneath her and she hissed in pain.

“I can’t stand yet…” she said, her voice laced with annoyance. “The blood circulation has been cut off for too long.

Go after Esmé!” she urged Lemony. “Don’t let her get away!”

“Come on, bro!” Kit chimed in, appearing downstairs. “We need to find her.”

“She went in the direction of the exit,” Klaus called from upstairs. “You can still intercept her.”

The two Snicket siblings rushed off in the direction Klaus had pointed them and Jacques watched Olivia as she sank back against the ladder of the chair, furiously rubbing her ankles.

“Olivia!|” he called from the railing. “Don’t move… stay were you are! We’re coming from you.”

He was going to take her home, take care of her injuries and then wrap her into the warmest, softest blanket he could find before he wrapped his own arms around her to never, ever let her go again.

Just as he was about to tell the children to follow him, two figures appeared on both sides of the fenced hallway.

The bald man with the long nose and the person of undetermined gender.

*** Meanwhile, back at the ranch ***

Her ankles, legs, arms and shoulders burned and prickled as if someone sticking thousands of hot needles into her flesh and Olivia slowly moved each of the limbs back and forth to get the circulation going.

Jacques was here.

She could hardly believe he had taken such a risk to come and rescue her, but the moment she had heard him call her name, her heart had soared.

Not even ten minutes ago she had been sure that she was about to die, that she would never see him again, but now, for the first time since this entire nightmare had begun, she dared to believe that they would live to tell the tale.

He had also brought the children with him and she didn’t know whether to be grateful of furious about that.

Carefully she tried to stand up again, but gave up after a few futile attempts. Her feet felt like they were filled with lead, her muscles refusing to obey the commands of her brain.

Hearing the sound of hurried footsteps behind her, she turned around, expecting to see Jacques.

But to her horror it was the hooked-handed man who had appeared, running towards with a furious expression on his face. Without hesitating she grabbed two of the cables that were lying on the floor, cables that had bound her to the chair only minutes ago. Not having the time to knot the ends of the cables into a loops she simply threw the end of the first one towards the henchman with a massive flick of her sore, right wrist.

The movement made her cry out in pain, her wrist feeling like it was being ripped off, but to her satisfaction she saw the cable hit him  with full force, the ending wrapping itself around him, bringing him to an abrupt halt. Steeling herself against the pain, Olivia immediately hurled the second cable towards him, which twisted around his legs, causing him to lose his balance.

He fell the the floor with an almighty thud, groaning in pain and shock.

From upstairs came the drawling voice of the henchman of undetermined gender: “That woman should not be let near a piece of rope.”

The implication of that voice coming from that location hit her a second later. Some of Olaf’s, or rather Esmé’s henchmen now were upstairs. And so were Jacques and the children.

Just as she was about to crawl towards the hook-handed villain, Jacquelyn appeared, holding out a gun in front of her.

Between the two of them it only took thirty seconds to tie him up, Jacquelyn using a assortment of complicated looking knots that Olivia resolved to learn herself on her earliest convenience. But for now she had a far more pressing concern.

“We need to get upstairs to help Jacques and the children,” she said hurriedly, frustrated by the way her hands kept spasming. Apparently, throwing the cables had taken the last of her strength out of them.

“I will go upstairs, you’ll stay here and keep an eye on this one,” Jacquelyn replied immediately.

“I want to help!” Olivia protested hotly.

“You already took out Esmé and this misfit,” Jacquelyn smirked. “Let others have some fun, will you?”

Knowing she would probably only be a liability if she tried to climb the stairs in her current state, Olivia nodded resignedly.

“Hurry, please!” she implored. “Make sure they’re safe.”

*** Meanwhile, back at the ranch ***

The two men were advancing on them slowly, coming from opposites ends of the hallway, blocking every escape route. Violet was clutching Sunny tightly against her, while Klaus stepped in front of them, his fists raised defiantly in front of them. Circling the children with his back turned towards him, Jacques weighted his options.

The bald man was coming in much quicker, the other one apparently distracted by something that was happening downstairs and Jacques estimated that he would be able to take him out more easily.

Placing his both hands on the railing of the fence and praying to the gods above that it was sturdy enough, he took a few steps back and then sprinted forwards, giving himself some leverage before he swung both of his legs up into the air, pushing himself up on the railing with his arms.

Arching his back he managed to hit the bald man square in the chest with his heavy boots and the tall man collapsed to the ground, wheezing and coughing.

Downstairs there was a ruckus of noise and Jacques spared a brief thought to what was befalling Olivia until he heard the henchman of undetermined gender say:

“That woman should not be let near a piece of rope.”

He then launched himself forward, tackling all three of the Baudelaires to the ground and Jacques jumped on his back, hooking his elbow around the man’s neck as he started to pull, slowly but surely closing off the person’s windpipe.

As he flailed his hands, desperately clawing at the arm that was choking him, the children managed to crawl out from underneath him.

“We need something to bind him!” Violet yelled and Klaus pulled the woolen sweater he was wearing over his head.

“We can use the sleeves to bind him!” he called, his eyes flashing dangerously and Jacques nodded approvingly.

Tying up the large, bulky frame proved to be quite the challenge however, as the henchman of undetermined gender trashed and writhed like a massive trout, freshly pulled from the water and neither one of them was really strong enough to restrain his arms long enough to bind them with the sweater.

Then Klaus let out a shriek of terror and Jacques saw to his horror that the bald man had recomposed himself and was now pulling at Klaus’ ankles, trying to pull him away.

Faster than anyone could believe to be possible, Sunny crawled down to Klaus’ legs and sunk her four sharp teeth vehemently into the man’s hand.

He yowled in pain, clutching the place where Sunny had bitten him with his free hand as he staggered through his feet, his eyes blood-shot and blazing.

“You vicious little serpent!” he hollered, swinging his leg back, intending to kick Sunny away.

Quick as a flash, Violet managed to pull Sunny out of harms way and the bald man crashed his foot into the iron fence, letting out a stream of curses.

The situation was getting completely out of hand and Jacques was about to despair when suddenly a gunshot was heard and the bald man dropped to the ground like a stone.

Behind him Jacquelyn emerged, holding a gun in one hand and a long piece of sturdy and incredibly welcome cable in her other hand.

“Leave the cable, take the children away from here!” Jacques wheezed, still trying to constrain the henchman of undetermined gender.

Jacquelyn tossed him the cable and ushered the children towards the staircase. “This is the last one, the others are secure,” she told him quickly. “Lemony and Kit are still pursuing Esmé. I’m taking the children to Olivia!”

“Roger!” he replied curtly, struggling to get the cable around the henchman’s unwieldy frame. As Jacquelyn and the children hurried downstairs he finally managed to loop a part of the cable around the wrists, securing them tightly together.

Double checking that the cable was secure and he wouldn’t be able to get himself out of the restrained, Jacques hissed: “You’re lucky I’m not knocking you unconscious for trying to harm my children. But try one more trick and I’ll chunk you over the railing into the pool, do I make myself clear?”

The henchman nodded pitifully and Jacques got to his feet and dashed towards the stairs, eager to get to Olivia and the children. But just as he reached the bottom of the stairs he caught a flash of periwinkle running through the corridor.

Without second-guessing his decision he went into pursuit, running after her through the dark hallway. As he passed a pair of lockers he realized he’d lost sight of her and when he reached the end of the hallway, he stopped, looking around him in confusion.

Just a she turned around he saw her emerging from behind a locker and running away from him, her speed highly compromised by her soaked clothes. In the corner next to him was pile of inflatable pool rings, the size of car tires, stacked. Grabbing the top one, he put in on its side and hurled it after Esmé, before grabbing the next one.

Within seconds Esmé was pursued by eight tires that picked up speed as the rolled through the hallway. They hit her in quick succesion and by the time the fourth collided with her, she tripped and fell to the ground.

The tires weren’t heavy enough to cause any great harm, but there were enough of them and they were big enough to engulf her, making it impossible for her to get up quickly.

By the time Esmé had managed to push the last tyre off her, Jacques was already in reaching distance of her. Grabbing her shoulders, he forced her on her stomach, pinning her arm behind her.

“Look who’s coming to the rescue after all!” Esmé scoffed, her voice breathless.

“You harmed my wife and you’ve hurt my children,” he snarled, pulling at her arm. “Olivia almost died tonight because of you!”

To his own ears his fear and heartache was painfully obvious and Esmé snorted.

“The both of you are such idiots that I wonder how you’re able to function at all.”

“Not another word word,” he hissed, “or I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

“Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?” Esmé taunted. “You know you want to.”

And oh did he want to. With her arm pinned behind her and his knees restraining her legs he had a spare hand that he could use to choke her. He would be doing the world a service, ridding it of a heatless criminal. And he would avenge all the pain she had caused the children and Olivia.

Nevertheless, he remained immobilized.

“You can’t do it, can you?” Esmé asked, her tone mocking him. “That’s the problem with you Snicket men… you’re soft. When it comes down to it, you don’t have the guts.”

She was right in many respects, Jacques realized. In his long V.F.D. career there had been only one instance where he had to actually kill another human being and the memory of it still gave him nightmares.

He had always carried the conviction that taking a life, like starting a fire was innately wrong. When given the option he would always make the noble choice. And even now, even if it concerned Esmé Squalor, he hesitated to actually kill her.

“The first time I met you, I was immediately convinced that you were a noble man.”

He smiled at the memory of her words, his heart suddenly feeling light and at peace.

Leaning down he told Esmé in a quiet voice:

“Oh, I have the guts. What I lack is the depravity.”

“Jacques!”

Kit’s cry reverberated through the tiled hallway and moments later both she and Lemony dropped down on their knees beside him.

The Snicket siblings. Reunited at last.

Pulling a pair of handcuffs from the pocket of his tweed jacket, Lemony quickly secured her hands behind her back.

“She’s the last one,” Kit informed him. “All of the henchmen are neatly tied up and ready to be shipped of to jail for the rest of their miserable lives.”

“Olivia and the children?” Jacques demanded.

“We last saw Olivia at the pool,” Kit replied. “A few minutes ago we ran into Jacquelyn and the children and told them to hide in one of the dressing rooms until Esmé was captured.”

“How on earth did you get here?” Jacques then asked Lemony, the turmoil in his head slowly quieting down.

“Second that, I’ve been dying to ask you for the past half hour,” Kit added.

The youngest Snicket took a deep breath. “This afternoon I delivered Quigley Quagmire to his aunt Veronica.”

“You’ve found Quigley?” Jacques exclaimed, his head starting to spin again. “How? Where?”

“He was hiding at the home of the late Montgomery Montgomery,” Lemony explained. “I’m much obliged to all the letters you’ve left there yesterday, explaining to him about the V.F.D. because when I appeared there this morning he was willing to hear me out at last. He is in good health and naturally his siblings were thrilled to see him again.”

Quigley was all right. After weeks of searching for the boy and almost despairing of ever finding him, he was reunited with his brother and sister at long last.

“I drove straight to the Snicket Townhouse after that, because I wanted to see you,” Lemony continued. “It was eight o’clock by the time I got there and to my surprise the place was dark and deserted. Just as I was about to leave two men, and I lose this term loosely in regards to one of them, were approaching the house. I asked them if I could help them and they gave an evasive answer about how they needed to talk to you and only you. I didn’t trust their appearances, so I decided to follow them… that’s how I ended up in here.”

“You wanted to see me?” Jacques asked, zooming in on the one bit of information that had startled him the most.

Lemony gave him a sad, apprehensive look. “There’s so much that needs to be said… but I didn’t have a clue how to say it as I was driving up to your house… and I confess I still don’t.”

His usually so eloquent brother faltered, looking completely helpless.

Next to him Kit was holding her breath, staring at both her brothers without daring to move a muscle.

All of their childhood, Lemony had been the talker, Kit had been the daredevil and Jacques had been the practical one.

In the intervening years many fires, a lot of deception, a schism, a faked death, a marriage of convenience and some words spoken in the heath of anger had passed between them, but in the end, at heart of it things still were what they’d been before.

Reaching out Jacques pulled his brother in a hug, a piece of his soul that had been missing for as many years as the rift between of them had started to grow clicking back into place as Lemony hugged him back.

“Make some room you two, I want in too!” Kit muttered, her voice choked with sobs, wrapping her arms about both of her brothers while Esmé gagged with revulsion.

Ignoring the fashionista’s disapproval, Jacques hugged his siblings for a few moments longer before pulling back and wiping his eyes.

“We need to take care of Esmé and her merry men,” Kit sniffled with a rueful smile.

Slightly distracted, Jacques nodded, meanwhile straining his ears for a sound of Olivia and the children.

Kit chuckled. “But Lemony and I can take care of that… you go and find your family.”

Surprised,  he turned to face her and Kit laughed out loud, her eyes uncharacteristically soft.

“It’s alright, Jacques,” she said gently. “They come first now and that’s how it should be. Go to them.”

Smiling his thanks, Jacques got to his feet, but before could walk away, Kit held him back for a moment longer, her voice suddenly crisp and clear.

“And if you don’t tell Olivia that you’re madly in love with her before this day is through, I swear to everything holy… I’m going to lock you up together until you do!”

*** Meanwhile, back at the ranch ***

The pool was too quiet.

The hook-handed man had been bound and gagged expertly by Jacquelyn and she hadn’t had a peep out of him since the other woman had rushed upstairs to assist Jacques and the children, but that was a good fifteen minutes ago now. There had been quite a bit of noise and shuffling upstairs, but she hadn’t been able to see or hear what exactly was going on.

Unable to move properly and being powerless to help her loved ones had left her feeling sick with  worry.

The prickling in her limbs had finally ceased completely and although she was still feeling incredibly sore all over, Olivia was beyond relieved when she discovered she could at least stand on her own feet again. It was still shaky and uncertain, but Olivia was confident that she would at least be able stand her ground in a fight if the need should arise.

It had gone deathly quiet upstairs and despite the fact that Olivia had been eying the staircase like a hawk for long minutes now, no-one had descended from them so far.

She was just contemplating whether or not she should ascend the stairs herself to see if there was anyone who needed her assistance when she heard a hoarse shout reverberating across the pool.

“Olivia!”

Whirling around she saw Jacques emerging from the hall way across the pool. He ran passed the starting blocks, kicking debris out of his way in his haste to get to her as quickly as possible.

Her relief at seeing him alive and well left her feeling light-headed and suddenly there were tears prickling behind her eyes.

They were going to be all right. They would all get to go home together and look after the children, making sure that they received all the comfort and care they needed after such a harrowing ordeal.

Jacques would probably be exhausted after another night of distress, but at least he would be able to rest tomorrow.

He was still running towards her, as if he couldn’t get to her fast enough, his expression fraud with anxiety.

Olivia froze, her stomach clenching with worry again as she tried to make sense of his behavior. Were they still in danger? Had something happened to the children?

When he came to a halt in front of her, she opened her mouth to ask him, but before she could get the first syllable out he launched himself forward towards her, his arms coming up around her, pulling her tightly against his chest, almost lifting her off the ground as he cradled  her against him.

One of his hands was feverishly running over her back as if he was trying to verify that she was really there, while his other hand was cradling her head and stroking her hair, tucking her head underneath his chin.

He was holding her so tightly that she was barely able to breathe, but with her face pressed against his chest, his whole body wrapping itself around her and his voice breathing her name over and over again, Olivia barely noticed.

For long seconds she still held herself rigid, the terror of everything that had happened still drumming though her veins, but then his fingers softly caressed the sensitive skin on the back of her neck and she all but melted against him, her whole body going soft and limb in his arms.

In response he only held her tighter, keeping her upright as she snuggled deeper into his arms, her own hands coming up towards his shoulders to hold on to him tightly, needing his strength as her own was flowing out of her.

Above her head, he groaned and she felt his lips moving in her hair, pressing soft kisses to the crown of her head and her whole body started to tremble anew, this time in surprise.

“Olivia…” he whispered hoarsely against her temple, his voice shaking. “My Olivia…”

His words made her shiver and she pressed her face against his chest, breathing in his scent and listening to the sound of his heart racing.

She didn’t understand what was happening, didn’t know why he was holding her and touching her so lovingly, but for the moment it didn’t matter.

For now she simply reveled in the feeling of his arms around her, of being held and feeling safe and protected for the first time in hours.

She tried to draw strength from him, but she only felt the tension ebbing out of her, leaving her feeling exhausted and drained.

After a few minutes a warm hand cupped her face, forcing her to look up at him and when she met his gaze she gasped at the sight that met her eyes.

His eyes were moist and tinged with red as if he was trying his hardest not to cry. Deep lines were etched around his eyes and mouth, his skin almost grey in the harsh light of the emergency generator.

But the fingers that caressed her face were gentle and he tried to smile with trembling lips.

“Olivia…” he whispered reverently.

She closed her eyes and let his voice wash over her, warmth spreading through her as she leaned into the touch. It didn’t make any sense and it would probably only last for a few more seconds, but she was determined to enjoy it for as long as she could.

Eventually though a semblance of reality settled in and she blinked at him. “The children?”

“They’re fine… they’re safe,” he reassured with a soft smile, his arms still around her. “And we’ve caught Esmé. She will never trouble us again.”

“Olivia!”

Another set of cries echoed through the pool and Olivia peered around Jacques’ shoulder to see Violet, Klaus running towards her with Sunny hoisted up against Violet hip.

“Oh sweethearts…” taking a few steps she met them halfway and for the next few minutes she didn’t have enough arms to hold and hug them all, the children simply piling up on her in their attempt to get as close to her as possible.

Eventually she found herself with Sunny in her arms and Violet and Klaus plastered to both her sides, all four of them crying and smiling.

And then she felt Jacques’ solid presence behind her again, his arms sliding around her waist once more.

Stifling a sob she brushed the back of her fingers across Violet’s tear-streaked face before pressing a kiss to Sunny’s soft, dowdy curls.

“We’re all right now,” she told them, giving Klaus a watery smile.

Reaching up Sunny put her chubby little hands on both of her cheeks and looked up at her solemnly, her grey eyes wide and serious.

“O-li-vi-a,” she said slowly and clearly as a bell, never breaking eye-contact.

And with her family around her, her little one saying her name for the very first time it was a very good thing that Jacques was holding her so tightly.

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

When Olivia became aware of her surroundings again, she was aching all over her body and her head was pounding.

Carefully she tried to stretch her limbs, but found herself completely restricted against any movement.

“Well, look who’s been left high and dry,” a bored voice drawled from below and after some blinking, Olivia managed to focus her gaze on the platina blonde who was leaning against the wall, fiddling with a fuse box.

“Esmé Squalor!” she managed, her voice sounding hoarse and scrappy.

“Little, annoying librarian,” Esmé acknowledged her, sauntering towards her until she came to stand right in front of her.

Olivia steeled her spine, forcing herself to meet the woman’s gaze with an unflinching expression. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I want a great many things,” Esmé replied, taking a pair of cutters from the pocket of her shorts and caressing it gently.

“I want to be on a yacht in the Caribbean, lounging on the sun deck with a Cosmopolitan in my hand.

I want to bask in the knowledge that everyone who has ever thwarted me has been taken care of.

I want Olaf with me…”

For an instant a look of genuine sadness crossed her face and in that moment, Olivia truly felt sorry for her. It was a dreadful thing to know that the man you love was dead. She knew that all too well.

“I’m sorry you miss him so much,” she answered gently. “I know that you cared for him very much.”

“You’re not even an ounce sorry!” Esmé snapped shrilly, her voice contorting with fury. “You played an active part in his dead!”

“He wanted to harm the children,” Olivia said simply. “You saw some good in Olaf and I know Jacques believed that there was some goodness left in him still… but in that moment I only saw a man who tried to feed two innocent children the lions and I acted accordingly.”

“Innocent, my foot!” Esmé shot back. “If they’re anything like their parents, then they don’t have an innocent hair on their body. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, I do,” Olivia insisted. “Jacques told me everything.”

It had only been the previous evening, but it already felt like a lifetime away.

Esmé merely scoffed at her words. “I can only imagine how that little bedtime story went… Justifying how Beatrice heroically tried to get her hands on something that wasn’t even hers to begin with, never minding the collateral damage she caused in the process.”

“That’s not what he told me,” Olivia answered. “He told me what Beatrice did, how she tried to steal the sugar bowl and set the house on fire, a fire that killed Olaf’s parents. He recognized that she made a mistake, but it is a mistake that has cost her dearly as well, so there is absolutely no need to make the children pay for it.”

“You’re a fool!” Esmé spat. “This is bigger than Beatrice, bigger than Olaf even… but that’s where you come in oh so handy… you’re going to be the perfect bait.”

“Bait for what?” Olivia asked with trepidation.

“Bait for what?”

From their secluded location behind the lockers, they could hear the conversation between the two women enfold and Jacques signaled the others to be very quiet.

“Well, let’s just say I went a little bit creative while I was tying you up,” Esmé started, smugness dripping from her tone. “You see, I didn’t use regular rope, but some of the electricity cables lying around here. Of course I’m not the greatest technician in the world, but I did manage to connect those cables to the fuss box… Now, here’s where it gets interesting…”

As quietly as possible, Jacques sneaked to the edge of the lockers and peered around them. Esmé was now standing in front of the fuse box, but indicated the roof of the pool.

“See those pipes at the ceiling? And see that piece of cable that’s dangling just across that one other pipe, right above the pool?”

Jacques looked up at the direction she pointed at and immediately felt his blood run cold. The ceiling of the pool had been opened, revealing the pipe-system above the ceiling panels. Across one of those pipes, right above the center of pool was a cable dangling. It was still  a few dozen feet above the water, but when he squinted his eyes to get a better look, he saw that the cable wasn’t randomly thrown across that pipe.

Apparently Esmé had fabricated some sort of construction.

Violet appeared next to him and wordlessly motioned for the spyglass. Jacques reached into his pocket to retrieve it and handed it to her, watching as Violet expertly adjusted the instrument before looking up.

She took a good, long look at the construction and Jacques could see her face turn pale. When she gave him back the spyglass, her hands were shaking.

“Pulley,” she mouthed without actually saying anything.

“Now watch what’s going to happen!” Esmé announced, with a delighted cackle. Reaching out she pulled one of the handles of the fuss box down and Jacques’ insides filled with dread as the soft sound of humming and creaking began to sound.

“That cable there is slowly coming down,” Esmé explained. “Now the other end of that cable is wrapped very tightly around you. I might have even taped it directly to you skin. Of course when the cable hits the water it is going to create quite a bit of short-circuiting, which wil undoubtedly result in you becoming a very fried, very much electrocuted little meddler.”

Blind, cold fury flared up inside of him at the sight of Olivia’s terrified face and Esmé’s self-satisfied expression and for a split second he was tempted to hurl himself across the room to take Esmé out. Her next words however made him very thankful that his training did prevent him from taking such rash actions.

“If you try anything funny,” Esmé continued, fiddling with the cutters in her hand, “or I even think for a moment that you are trying to get away from me, I’m simply going to cut the cable myself. If however, you remain a good little girl, your husband has two hours to save your life.”

“And how is he supposed to do that?” Olivia asked, and Jacques admired the steadiness of her voice.

“I’m going to cut him a deal,” Esmé replied. “And even a very fair deal, I might add. Two of my compatriots are on their way to your home to lay out the terms: his wife for his brother. Your life for that of Lemony.”

Glancing behind him, Jacques saw the absolutely stunned expressions of alarm on the faces of Kit and Jacquelyn, a panic he was experiencing all too well himself.

“What?” Olivia cried, outraged. “Jacques has no idea where Lemony even is… how is he ever going to manage that?”

“Well, if he wants his wife back, he needs to think of a way and quickly,” Esmé replied. “But I have every bit of faith in him. I saw with my own eyes how devoted Snicket men are to the objects of their affections. He’ll tear the world apart to keep you safe. He’ll give me anything I ask him, as long as he’ll get you back.”

And Jacques knew in that moment that Esmé Squalor was one hundred percent right. He had always scorned Lemony for his blind devotion to Beatrice, but in the end he wasn’t one bit different from his brother. He too would sacrifice every last one of his principles if it meant that Olivia would remain unharmed. And that knowledge absolutely terrified him.

And then Olivia laughed. A sad, relieved, eerie laugh that echoed across the tiled walls of the pool.

“Jacques doesn’t love me.”

She said it so calmly, so resignedly. “If you think you have leverage over him by keeping me hostage, I’m very sorry to disappoint you, but you don’t. He isn’t going to do anything rash or stupid. And he’s definitely not going to risk the life of his brother by extraditing him to you.”

When Olaf’s crowbar hit him square in the chest, the excruciating pain had paralyzed him for long moments, leaving him unable to breathe or even form a coherent thought.

Olivia’s words had the exact same effect on him and he could only stand there and gape as her words reverberated though his head.

Did she honestly not know how he felt about her? Did she truly believe that he was so indifferent towards her that he would turn his back on her?

“What do you mean he doesn’t love you?” Esmé shrieked. “He married you for crying out loud!”

“Only because Mr. Poe wouldn’t let either of us adopt the Baudelaires, unless we were wed,” Olivia explained calmly. “We both wanted to take care of the children and we wanted to do so together. We may not be romantically involved, but we are a family.”

One look at the children told him that they were staring at him wide-eyed, their faces filled with astonishment. Shifting his gaze upwards, he met the incredulous expressions of Kit and Jacquelyn and he shrugged helplessly.

A furious, frustrated wail of resentment sounded echoed through the pool and Esmé actually stamped her feet in anger. Footsteps were heard running through the corridor and Jacques braced himself, ready to come out for a desperate rescue attempt, should the occasion call for it.

Moments later, the hooked-handed henchman appeared, an alarmed look on his face.

“Boss, what’s going on?”

“The fat one and the bald one, have they already left for the Snicket home?” Esmé barked at him.

“They left ten minutes ago…” he answered, looking thoroughly confused. “Wasn’t that what you instructed?”

“Well, we hit a snag in the plan!” Esmé exclaimed exasperated. “Apparently, Jacques Snicket isn’t as devoted to his wife as we’ve assumed. In a mocking voice she added: “According to her, he doesn’t love her and only married her so that they could adopt the children…”

The hook-handed man scowled. “So he’s not going to give us Lemony in exchange for her?”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Esmé huffed, her eyes rolling. “And since she’s completely useless to us now, right now I am incredibly tempted to just pull that switch down and get rid of her.”

Stepping in front of him, Kit pulled out her gun and aimed. Jacques knew it was completely pointless. The whole reason why Kit hadn’t tried to take out Esmé with her gun earlier was the fact that from across that distance the risk of hitting Olivia instead of Esmé was simply too great. But if the latter was really going to cut the cable it might be the only chance they had.

“We might be able to use her to trick Snicket after all,” the hook-handed man said slowly. “He might not come to rescue this one, or trade his brother for her, but I’m willing to bet my iron vile that it’ll take him out of the house to go to the City Station or maybe even V.F.D. headquarters. When he does, the children will be unattended and up for grabs.

He may not be willing to deal for his wife, but maybe he’ll be a bit more fore-coming when his children are involved.

Just as Esmé started to nod thoughtfully, a gleeful expression spreading over her face, Olivia furiously pulled and kicked at her bindings.

“Don’t you dare!” she shrieked, tears running down her face. “You keep away from my children!”

“Yessss…” Esmé purred slowly. “The more I think about it, the more I like it… Go to the Snicket home, wait until Snicket has left and then seize the children.”

As soon as the hook-handed man had excited the pool area, Jacques turned towards Jacquelyn and Kit.

“Go after him,” he quickly signed to Jacquelyn, using ASL.  “Take him out with whatever means necessary!”

Jacquelyn gave him a curt nod, her face grim and formidable and disappeared.

“Those creepy twin sisters must be somewhere in the building,” he signed to Kit. “Find them and take them out.”

“Will do,” Kit signed back quickly. “And also, you’re a first-class moron, Jacques Snicket!”

Ignoring her last comment, Jacques watched her take off and then gestured for the children to follow him.

Slipping into a conjunctional shower, he closed the door behind them so that they could talk in private.

“We need to disarm that contraption,” he said hurriedly, “but without Esmé noticing a thing.”

“For that I need access to the main electricity panel,” Violet replied. “If I can shut off all of the power, Esmé won’t be able to hurt Olivia.”

“Maybe Sunny knows where that panel is…” Klaus interjected.

For a moment, Sunny scrunched up her face in concentration, then her eyes went wide open and she squealed.

“I think she knows,” Violet remarked, a look of relief passing over her face. “Lead the way, Sunny!”

To his surprise, Sunny directed them up an iron staircase towards the second floor. This part of the pool generally wasn’t open to the public, it was where the offices and supply closets were, as well as a sizable electricity panel.

Most of the first floor had a raised ceiling, so the second floor only consisted of a fenced hallway against the wall. They kept to the walls as closely as possible so that Esmé wouldn’t be able to detect them, but as Jacques snuck near the balustrade he was relieved to discover that he could see the proceedings below from this vantage point.

As carefully and quietly as she could, Violet opened the panel, but nevertheless the hinges creaked slightly, the sound deafening through the otherwise quiet room and they all held their breaths and pressed themselves against the wall, praying that Esmé would ignore the sound.

“Creepy old mausoleum,” they heard her mutter downstairs, but to their immense relieve, she didn’t move away from the fuse box.

From the pocket of her jacket, Violet pulled a a piece of dark blue, laced ribbon. For a moment she stared at the piece of fabric in her hand, smiling sadly.

“Olivia bought me this,” she mouthed, barely making a sound. “She thought it would stay in better than satin or velvet.”

Squaring her shoulders, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail and Jacques swallowed around the lump that suddenly closed off his throat.

If anything happened to Olivia, the children would be absolutely devastated. Neither one of them had ever aspired to replace the children’s parents, but there was no denying that in the past six month Olivia’s gentle affection had gone a long way to soothe their anguish.

Losing Olivia would be like losing another parent. And he wondered if even children as strong and  resilient as the Baudelaire siblings would be able to recover from that.

For the past twenty minutes or so, the muscles in her shoulders were aching from the unnatural position they were forced into. With her hands bound so tightly together and then secured to the chair she had little to no room to move around and relieve her sore joints. The steel-wired cables that Esmé had used to ty her wrists were cutting into her skin, causing her flesh to burn.

Worry about Jacques and the children clawed at her chest. As much as she dreaded dying at Esmé’s hands, most of her still hoped Jacques would remain rational and ignore the henchmen’s deal, realizing his first priority should be to protect the children.

Moving and bending her fingers as much as the binds would allow, Olivia brushed her fingertips across the gold bracelet, her eyes welling up with tears.

If she died here tonight, she wouldn’t get to say goodbye to them.

She would never get to see how well Klaus did on his olympiad.

She would never get to see Violet graduate and be swamped with offers for apprenticeships.

She would never get to hear Sunny say her first word.

She would never get to see Jacques again, never see his soft smile and the way the lines around his eyes crinkled when he did.

It was all worth it of course, but she would sell her soul just to have one more moment with them. Because if she died tonight, he would forever believe that she didn’t love him and she’d take that lie to her grave.

By now the cable dangling in the air was a quarter down and in attempt to get her mind off its slow but irrevocably steady process she focussed her attention on the socialite who was currently filing her nails, leaning casually against the fusebox.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked quietly, forcing herself to take calm, even breaths.

“Oh goodie… girl talk…” Esmé sneered sarcastically. “I assume I won’t be able to stop you from asking questions unless I gag you, won’t I?”

“Well, since I am to die in about an hour and a half,” Olivia continued, “I feel that I might as well ask: what on earth is in that sugar bowl?”

Abruptly Esmé looked up, her relaxed posture turning into one of rapid attention. “What do you care about that?” she asked sharply.

“Honestly, I don’t care about the sugar bowl persè,” Olivia answered. “But since it’s been such a catalyst in everything that has happened, I can’t help but wondering… People have been murdered over it, life long friends have turned against each other because of it, people have even abandoned their principles… what is in that bowl that makes it worth all of that?”

Relaxing a little, Esmé’s smile looked rather manically. “Well you are about to die… there’s no arguing with that…”

“It’s not like I’ll able to tell anyone,” Olivia whispered back, all of attention focussed on Esmé.

“That’s true,” Esmé acknowledge, baring her teeth as she continued to grin. “You’ll be death in roughly and hour… it would be like not having told you at all…

All right, here it goes: inside the sugar bowl… there’s nothing but emptiness.”

The silence that followed continued for long seconds as Olivia tried to grasp what the other woman had just told her, her mind reeling.

“Nothing?” She managed eventually. “There’s nothing in there? It’s just an ordinary, unused sugar bowl?”

Under her breath she added: “I know brevity is the soul of wit, but really…”

“Of course it’s not,” Esmé snapped. “The sugar bowl is a metaphor. Do you know what it’s like to grow up and have nothing and no one? To get to wear disgusting hand-me-downs you have to be grateful for? To be obscure and unimportant and completely ignored?”

“I do, as a matter of fact,” Olivia replied calmly. It was as if a light bulb had been switched on inside her head. Esmé’s boundless narcissism and her hunger to be a part of absolutely everything that was considered to be ‘in’, it all started to make perfect sense.

“I grew up in a boarding school,” she elaborated. “I never had anything or anyone to call my own.”

“Well, one day I realized I didn’t want to live like that any longer,” Esmé continued. “I knew that if I ever wanted to get away from a life of insignificance, I had to orchestrate an opportunity for myself. I decided that the sugar bowl was to be my talisman and that I was going to be someone.

And then the funniest thing happened… the more I believed it, the more others started to believe it as well. All of a sudden everyone in the V.F.D. was convinced that sugar bowl held some sort of power and that since I was in possession of it, that power was now mine.

Perhaps I started to believe it too, who knows… all I know was that I never wanted to part with it ever.

But then of course there was little, entitled Beatrice who thought differently.”

“You say the sugar bowl is a metaphor,” Olivia said slowly… wouldn’t you rather have the real thing? Someone to really care about? A real purpose? I can speak from experience when I say that the real thing is even better than you can ever imagine.”

“Is it mandatory for you volunteers to turn into such utter, moralistic saps?” Esmé cried out, indignantly. “What personal experience are you talking about? You still have nothing! You’re raising other peoples’ brats, children who will always wish that they were with their real parents instead of you and you’re married to a man who doesn’t love you and only stays with you out of some misplaced sense of nobility.”

Hearing Esmé giving voice to her darkest fears and taunting her with them momentarily left her gasping for breath, bile rising up in her throat.

Almost by compulsion her fingers stretched and rubbed over the gold of her bracelet and suddenly a picture sprang to her mind, one so clear that she could almost taste it.

The five of them gathered around cheese fondue, the children happy and laughing, enjoying good food and good conversation. Jacques’ soft eyes and warm smile whenever he looked at her.

“That isn’t true,” she said out loud, hearing the surprise in her voice. “If there was anything I could do to bring back Bertrand and Beatrice Beaudelaire, I would instantly. But life doesn’t work that way. You lose people that are dear to you… and the only way to heal and to move forward is to let other people in… to not close yourself off. I want to be that to the children. I want to be their way forward.

And Jacques… well, he may not love me, but he does care about me. And that’s enough for me. With them I have found a family… and that’s all I ever wanted.

You’ve loved Olaf. And he’s gone and that has hurt you. But you can heal and move forward as well… you just need to make that choice.”

There was a flicker of doubt in Esmé’s eyes and for a brief, hopeful moment Olivia dared to believe that she had managed to convince her. Then the shutters closed again and Esmé straightened her back.

“Oh, I made my choice years ago, and I am  resolved to only pursue those things that will be beneficial to me. So spare me your lectures or I will gag you!”

After Esmé had demonstratively turned her back on her. Olivia sank back in her seat in defeat.

So close. Only she couldn’t make the decision for her.

Sighing in frustration, she tried to stretch and move her limbs a tiny fraction, as much as the cables would let her. It was only then that she noticed that the cable that was securing her feet to the bars of the chair was noticeably more lose than it had been half an hour ago. Experimentally wriggling her feet revealed that she had much more room to maneuver than before. With this extra room, Olivia was able to toe of her one shoe, carefully making sure that it remained on her foot, dangling precariously from her toes.

If Esmé were to find out she would secure the cable again, but this way, should the opportunity arise, she would at least be able to use her feet.

Adjusting the settings of the spyglass’s flashlight to the lowest setting as to not alert Esmé to their antics, Jacques positioned himself behind Violet and directed the beam at the opened panel. When Violet’s breath caught in horror, he felt his own stomach sink to the bottom of his feet.

The inside of the electricity panel was a mess of tangled wires, connectors and plugs, looking at least sixty years old.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Violet mouthed, her brow creased with doubt.

Trailing her fingertips over the various wires, she tried to figure out how they were all connected and to find the main switch to shut of the entire system. After a minute or two she carefully extracted two bright red, intertwined wires.

“These lead directly to the main energy distributor,” she explained soundlessly. “I think that if we cut these, the power will switch off…”

From the pocket of his trousers, Jacques pulled a Swiss army knife and handed it to her. “Do it!” he whispered with a nod.

Using the knife, Violet cut both wires simultaneously and a fraction of a second later the space was filled with the sound of a rattling pulley.

Downstairs both Esmé and Olivia shrieked and while Violet, Klaus and Sunny stood there, completely paralyzed, their eyes wide with terror and their hands clamped over their mouths, Jacques dropped to the floor and pushed himself across the floor on his stomach to the railing.

The cable hadn’t hit the water yet, but was hovering only a mere, terrifying few inches above the water. Jacques estimated that it couldn’t be more than half a dozen. And the pulley was still going round. It wouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes before the cable would hit the water and electrocute Olivia.

Turning his head, he stole a glance at her, his stomach clenching at the sight of her pale, panic-stricken face.

Esmé was getting besides herself as well, frantically looking around for any intruder.

As quickly as he could, Jacques pulled back and scurried towards the wall while Esmé seethed.

“Wherever you are, whoever you are, you won’t best me!” she roared. “I’ll cut that cable myself if I have to and you won’t be able to stop me!”

A small, shuffling noise caught his attention and when he looked up he saw Kit pressed up against the wall of the second floor, sliding towards her, her revolver held out in front of her.

Just as she stepped forward towards the railing to take out Esmé, a calm, deep voice spoke.

“Let her go, Esmé… your beef is with me and I’m here now!”

Kit startled so violently that she almost dropped her gun and Jacques himself could barely believe his ears.

“Lemony Snicket!” Esmé drawled, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “How generous of you to join us.”

Violet, Klaus and Sunny had taken a few tentative steps forward, eyeing the scene enfolding in front of him with startled expressions of bewilderment.

Having somewhat recovered from her shock, Kit whispered quietly to them:

“That’s Lemony, he is my more dramatic brother.”

[keep-calm-ask-the-librarian]

The Threadbare Trope visuals - part 3. 

Violet’s room and inventions.