~a/n: .yeah. I've been having some horrible writer's block lately, so forgive me if it sucks. Kindly don't flame me.I love you. *sniff* (by the way, I have a sneaky little theory that Beatrice is the Bauldilare's mother, and this story runs on the assumption that this is true.)

To my kind editor:

Please accept my humblest apology; I thought that I had learned not to get my hopes up.

I figured that by now I would be able to slow down, not to jump on any under-founded evidence. I thought that after the Japanese grill restaurant incident I'd learned my lesson, and yet here I am. Here I am in this little hut on the cliff, waiting.waiting for what I've wanted for far too long.

I was gathering information the tenth book detailing the true story of the Bauldilare children. I have decided to call this book "The Slippery Slope", as it involves a slope that is rather slippery. Anyway, for reasons I cannot disclose at this moment, I was required to work undercover in a small coffeehouse set on the side of a mountain. I worked for many days, gathering little, when suddenly entered a young woman and a young man that I was fairly certain I had never seen before. They took a seat, and motioned me over. This was suspicious to me, as I was carrying a rather heavy tray of coffee and tea and I was the only one of the staff who was busy. I delivered the hot drinks and pursued them nonetheless.

My suspicions were further aroused when the two ordered a pot of Jasmine tea. The young fellow, blonde with black glasses, seemed casual. The girl, however, kept giving me significant glances, adjusting her own blonde hair as though it was a wig that didn't sit quite right. I obediently left, and returned a moment later with the tea.

"I would like to name a child Beatrice," she said suddenly, turning to the boy but glancing at me from the corner of her eye, "You could call her Bea.or Trice." She stressed the last word, and fixed her eyes on my again significantly. I was so shocked that I almost dropped the tray I carried. How did she know that code??

I swallowed, with a feeling like the bottom had dropped out of my stomach. "The world is quiet here," I whispered with a dry mouth, resisting the urge to nervously lick my lips.

"Very much so," she responded, smiling and gesturing under the table to me. She was waving a white envelope frantically around her left knee.

Taking her hint, I dropped a napkin as discreetly as I could. "Excuse me," I said, snapping up the napkin and pulling the envelope out of her hands.

"What's wrong with this guy?" I heard her partner whisper.

"Probably his first day," she said, shrugging as I resurfaced.

"Anything else?"

"No thank you," she said with a wink. I tried to walk calmly to the kitchen, but I was no more than four feet away from the table before I gave in and ran like a child.

I took the back door out of the kitchen and sat on an empty crate, tearing the envelope open. Inside was a simple note in a neat, diagonal script I knew so well-

Find me.

That was all that was on the page, but I needed nothing more. This was it- this had to be a trick. One of my enemies found the rescue code, forged Beatrice's handwriting, and staged a meeting to lure me out of hiding and into their clutches. There are a great deal of people who don't want the Bauldilare story told, so many that I can't keep track of them all, and any number of them are capable of finding these things out. For all I know, there could be more than one of them working together. This had to be faked. I KNEW it was.

Right away I quit my job and started off, bringing only my typewriter, my picture of Beatrice, and all the notes I had composed for "The Slippery Slope", because those were far too precious and dangerous to leave around. Nothing else was important at the time, although I wish I had brought another pair of socks, as these ones are soaked through.

But none of that matters now. I'm headed to one of the last outposts of a noble organization. Rumor has it that there is a Bauldilare parent hiding out in the Valley of the Four Drafts, and even if it isn't Beatrice I may still get something.

So you see, it is rather necessary for me to postpone work on "The Slippery Slope" until this very urgent matter is sorted out. Even though I need to take this short break, please remember that you are still my last hope for the tale of the Bauldilare children to be told to the general public.

With all due respect,

Lemony Snicket

PS- Please do not try to contact me, as this may put you, I, the Bauldilares, and four beta fish in China to all be in very grave danger. I will be in touch as much as I can.