'So. I'm updating quickly. Yep. By the way—ages. In this fic:
You have two options. Option A is for the ones of you who don't like math. Sunny is in middle school. Her siblings and the Quagmires are in High School. If you think they're too old, remember that they've missed a lot of school since the start of the series. Okay?
Option B is for the spazzes who don't want to accept my laziness. For you, I have written chapter one and a half—
Chapter One and A Half: Sunny was happy her siblings were together again. The older Baudelaires, along with the Quagmires, had spent a lot of time away from home recently, in a rocket going at the speed of light or whatever for about a few years. When they returned, Sunny was older, but they were not. The end.
I'm so lazy...:P But at least I'm keeping them in character...unlike most the writers for Harry Potter. Ugh...
Sunny chose a Nancy Drew book and plopped down on the couch. She was bored already.
The Nancy Drew book was really good, though. A lot of action. In the chapter Sunny was on, Nancy was investigation hotel rooms of suspects to look for evidence.
Sunny got an idea.
It was one of those ideas that fill your mind, blossoming from an idea into a theory, from a theory into a plan. Sunny tried to ignore it, to focus on Nancy and the clues, but there was no turning back.
She wanted to investigate the Quagmire's house.
Not that she thought they were guilty. But she didn't spend a lot of time there. It would be so cool! Just the sort of thing Nancy Drew would do with an evening to herself. Sighing, Sunny put down the book and went upstairs.
There were four doors. Sunny chose the first one. Tiptoeing silently to the door, she carefully opened the doorknob, and glanced furtively around at the room inside. It was very clean. Very organized. A bed with a blue cover was against one wall, and on the other wall was a bookshelf.
Sunny crept over to inspect the bookshelf. The Collected Works of Edna St. Vincent Millay, The Right Way to Write a Sonnet, Les Fleurs du Mal. She decided it was Isadora's room when she saw all the picture hanging on the wall over the dresser. A picture of Isadora and Klaus, a picture of Klaus, a picture of Klaus, another picture of the two of them, and a picture somebody had drawn with a heart that said inside it IQ + KB. Duh. That wasn't hard.
She was about to open the door to the next room, but it was locked. She shrugged. A sign said KEEP OUT –Duncan on the door. She decided to check out the next room.
Sunny stepped inside. This room smelled...well, it sounded weird, but it smelled comfortable. Weird.
She saw piles of jumbled things on the floor. Carefully picking her way around heaps of clothing and paper and books, she made her way to the unmade bed. She could see plaid sheets. How masculine.
Something fluttered in her chest again. What was it? It hurt, but in a good way. Strange.
Sunny sat on the bed, feeling exhilarated. On the shelf above the head of the bed, there were a lot of framed pictures. Most of the pictures were of Violet. In one picture, Violet was giving Sunny her pigtails. Sunny cringed. In the picture, she looked so weird next to Violet.
Violet was smiling at the camera, she looked like she was laughing. Sunny's eyes were focused somewhere else off-camera, and she looked like she was talking.
The pictures of Violet and Quigley stared at her. They laughed at her, mocking her. Sunny stood up, like she was in a trance, and reached up to stroke the world map tacked to the ceiling.
LIfe was so confusing...
Where had that thought come from? She wasn't confused. She knew who she was. Her named was Sunny Baudelaire. She hated her name, it made her sound like a hippy or a prostitute. Ugh. She was in middle school and loathed it, she had two older siblings, and she couldn't remember her parents. Her favorite color was light purple. She liked vanilla ice cream. She enjoyed reading Nancy Drew books. She wanted to have long hair down to her butt. She wanted to be good at something, like her older siblings, although her only area of expertise, it seemed, was figuring out what Nancy and George and Bess were going to do next.
Sunny knew all those things. She just didn't understand...Didn't understand why she was confused...So many things were confusing...
Weighed down by sudden exhaustion, she curled up on the bed and drifted into sleep.
She must have slept for a long time, because she woke up to giggles floating up from downstairs. Voices. Violet and Quigley. Where was she?
With a jolt, Sunny remembered where she was. She stiffly uncurled and stretched. She was in Quigley's bedroom!
The voices came closer. They were coming upstairs!
Well...I hope you like it...