Disclaimer: The talented Daniel Handler owns all characters and their histories. The plot is mine but that's about it. I wonder if Mr. Handler (or Mr. Snicket) would sue me if I didn't include a disclaimer? At least then I'd get to meet him…and maybe see his face!

A/N: I haven't abandoned my Beatrice fic, or my Harry Potter fics Lucky Day and Pensieve (which should be updated rather soon). I just had this story in my head because I thought that the situation of Violet being the object of two brothers' affections was rather interesting. Review please, and happy reading!

"The World is Quiet Here."

V.

Quigley Quagmire stared into the eyes of his brother in wonder. Duncan. He had at last found his lost sibling.

Behind Duncan, the fiery remains of the self-sustaining mobile home crackled menacingly, bathing their faces in a hellish orange glow. Suddenly, from behind Duncan, another familiar face emerged.

"Duncan, what the hell… " Isadora trailed off as Quigley's eyes drank in her face. His family. He was finally reunited with his beautiful, wonderful family. For the first time in as long as any of them could remember, there were three triplets once again.

"Quigley…" Duncan whispered, his face ashen. "You're…how can…you're supposed to be…"

"Dead!" Isadora finished tearfully. "You're supposed to be dead! Oh Quigley, how can you be alive? And how did you know where to find us when we needed you most?"

"V.F.D.," Quigley responded simply, a quiver now evident in his voice. Why weren't they welcoming him? Why didn't they hug him, hold him in their arms? Then they would know that he was real, that he had come home to them.

It was then that Quigley realized that Duncan's gaze was fixed on something behind Quigley, over his left shoulder. Isadora's attention, too, was captivated by the mysterious entity.

Quigley turned. The Baudelaires had disobeyed his instructions. They had abandoned their beat-up Civic on the side of the road and were marching across the field, a teenage Sunny Baudelaire in the lead. Of course, Quigley realized. It had been over a decade since the Baudelaires and the other two Quagmire triplets had laid eyes on one another. It must have been just as much of a shock for his siblings to see them as it was for them to see Quigley.

The Baudelaires were level with the Quagmires now. Quigley turned to them, addressing Violet, who was still the unspoken head of the clan.

"I told you not to come," he accused softly, his light eyes locking with Violet's dark ones. She hung her head, and her siblings followed suit.

"I couldn't let you do this alone. What if Count Olaf or one of the members of his horrible troupe is waiting nearby, plotting an ambush? Six is much stronger than three, especially when you're referring to the Baudelaires and the Quagmires together."



"Four!" Hector called from somewhere beneath the ruined wreckage of the hot air home. "There would have been four of us!"

"Yes," Klaus muttered, "but only three would have fought instead of running, or flying, away."

"We need to get out of here as quickly as possible," Sunny whispered suddenly. She had been silent since the Baudelaires had first materialized out of the darkness, but now she commanded attention. Her blue eyes flashed around the clearing, as though she could see the danger, even in the night.

"Ferocarik," she added, motioning them to follow her.

Quigley observed the puzzled expressions on his siblings' faces. "Sunny works for the V.F.D. now, for our side, in the special coding department. 'Ferocarik' means something along the lines of 'there are enemies here and we must leave immediately lest they find us standing in this clearing talking about them'."

The Baudelaires had already turned, about to hurry back across the field, but Duncan and Isadora were perfectly still, staring at their old friends. The Baudelaires turned back, slowly, and Sunny's eyes flashed angrily at the possibility that the Quagmires were ignoring her suggestion.

"We have to go. There will be plenty of time for us to greet each other later. We're used to living in fear. We can no longer take the time to embrace old friends when it could cost us our lives," Klaus told them seriously.

Quigley glanced over at his siblings. At Klaus's words, Isadora had snapped out of her trance and dashed back to the fire to free Hector from beneath the hot air home, but Duncan was still looking dazed, staring, apparently at nothing. Then, Quigley realized what had entranced his brother so.

Slowly, he followed his brother's gaze to Violet's feminine, elegant hand. Her left hand. The diamond winked up at the brothers by the light of the smoldering remains of Hector's dream, teasing them, mocking their fortune. Violet realized what was happening at that moment, and she clapped both hands to her mouth, looking to Quigley for help. He could give her none.

"Oh…Duncan."

THREE MONTHS EARLIER

Klaus Baudelaire's nose was almost touching the pages of the book that lay open in front of him. The miniscule size of the typeface made it difficult to read, and even the magnifying glass he had clapped over one eye wasn't helping him to make progress. He leaned back with a sigh, setting aside "101 Tiny Disguises", which wasn't difficult to do considering the book was about three inches tall.

He stood up with the thought that he ought to go find Violet, then sat back down again. She was probably with Quigley, while he could only dream of his sweet Isadora. He hadn't seen her since his thirteenth birthday, and a little over ten years had passed since then. To Klaus, it had seemed like a lifetime. He had changed so much from the young teenage bookworm he had once been. Although his primary focus was doing all he could to aid the V.F.D., he was also a college professor of history. Every time he met with someone from the English department, he usually made a point to grill them about the writing of couplets. He also made sure to ask if they had seen any couplets written in Isadora's particular style lying around, just in case.

So far, no one had heard anything from Isadora, or from Duncan. But Klaus wasn't ready to give up. He knew, somehow, that Isadora would find him again one day.

He privately felt that one of the reasons his search for Isadora had been hindered was his inability to use his real name in both polite society and within the V.F.D. This was the result of a drastic action that the orphans had been forced to take only days before Violet's 18th birthday. They had finally understood that Count Olaf would never stop hunting them until he had their fortune. Even after Violet was eighteen, his treachery would continue until he had managed to steal every last cent from them. Therefore, they had only one option. The Baudelaires would cease to exist. If Olaf thought that he could no longer get his hands on them, the fortune and the Baudelaires themselves would finally be safe.

Dangerous criminal Violet Rose Baudelaire had died in a freak accident only days before her eighteenth birthday, according to the Daily Punctilio. Her murderous accomplice, Klaus Herbert Baudelaire, had met the same fate only days later in a similar freak accident. The Daily Punctilio did not pick up on this coincidence. Strangely, they also reported, Sunny Skye Baudelaire was nowhere to be found. Mr. Poe, now president of Mulctuary Money Management, was assured that Sunny Baudelaire was still alive and well, and would be collecting her fortune in twelve years or so. Mr. Poe asked no questions, which was a trait the Baudelaires had once hated about him but were now grateful for. Olaf couldn't steal the Baudelaire fortune via a dead Klaus or Violet, and if he wanted to get his filthy hands on it using Sunny, he would have to wait over a decade. Not only that, he would have to find her, which was going to be difficult, as it seemed as though she had dropped off the face of the earth.

For six years, Klaus had been known only as K (to the V.F.D.) and as Professor Jacques Quagmire (to his colleagues at the university). Violet Baudelaire, or V, now went by the moniker of Daffodil Snicket to more respectable members of the community. They'd had checks printed and everything. Thanks to the V.F.D., Violet and Klaus Baudelaire were long dead. Their younger sister, Isadora Spats, had taken care to keep herself well hidden, and was now a striking young teenager working diligently for the organization of V.F.D.

Klaus sighed. Reviewing the events of the last six years only made him feel more distressed than he already did. Without access to the Baudelaire fortune, Klaus and his siblings were limited in their methods of searching for the two lost triplets, Duncan and Isadora. But that wasn't the only thing they were searching for.

The only way to permanently stop Olaf from discovering Sunny's true identity and holding her captive was to launch an offensive of their own. For years, the Baudelaires and their fellow volunteers, along with Quigley, had been tracking Olaf's whereabouts. Once they had him in an isolated situation, they would be able to attack. Only when Olaf had been successfully imprisoned could the Baudelaires come out of hiding and claim the fortune that was rightfully theirs. They could begin to live again.

As Klaus pondered their dismal situation, Violet strolled into the library with Quigley on her arm. Klaus was happy to see his sister cheerful among their sinister surroundings, but as her happiness with Quigley grew, the hole in his heart that Isadora had once filled grew as well.

"Jacques!" Violet cried, a smile highlighting her delicate features. In order to maintain appearances, they referred even to one another by their new names. "Jacques, look!"

"What is it, Daffodil?" Klaus wandered closer to his sister, trying to catch a glimpse of what she had in her hand, which she was waving wildly about.

The engagement ring shone cheekily in overhead lights of Klaus's library. He gasped in appreciation, grasping his sister's slender wrist to better inspect the jewel.

Though he complimented her, laughing and talking merrily with the happy couple, the absence of Isadora consumed his heart.