A/N: I'vealways had it in me to write a Beatrice/Olaf fic, but I could never find the right subject to base it on. but now, I have outlistened Franz Ferdinand's "Auf Ausche" andI spent a day typing this up. Yes, I know it's dark and rather morbid, but I have no clue how I managed to empty this kind of thing from my soul.But, before this little epic begins,I want to clear up anyconfusion. Beatrice is 13 years old, Lemony is 15, Olaf is in his late twenties. Now that's out of the way...Read, Review, and Enjoy!

"Happy Birthday to Beatrice! Happy birthday to you!"
Everyone around Beatrice clapped and urged her to blow out the candles. Beatrice smiled and shut her eyes, pausing to blow out the thirteen candles that were perched on the white frosted cake. Her mother and father bent down and kissed the side of her face.
"Oh, my little teenager!" Beatrice's mom gushed, tightening her hold around her daughter. "I can't believe you're finally thirteen!"
"Mom," Beatrice laughed. "It's not that big of a deal."
"Oh, but it is," said Beatrice's mother, letting go and straightening up."My beautiful baby girl is all grown up. Wasn't it just yesterday that you and Lemony were playing in the backyard?"
Lemony Snicket snapped out of his dream like state at the mention of his name. He had drifted off in his own thoughts, mainly of how much he cared for Beatrice. It was her 13th birthday and each birthday was a constant battle. He wanted to just tell her that he cared for her and today he had decided to tell her, but how would he go about doing so?
"Lemony?"
"Hm?" murmured Lemony as he glanced to his side.
"Would you like some cake?" Beatrice said, holding out a plate to him.
"Sure," he replied, taking the plate and setting it down on the table.
He barely touched the cake; he was too busy gazing at the teenage beauty that was Beatrice. She chatted with everyone, laughing and speaking with the confidence only an adult should have. He was so lucky to be this close to someone like her, to even know someone like her. But he never made her feel special; he never did anything for her.
Beatrice drifted off amongst the crowd, leaving Lemony to ponder at the table. He kept tossing the idea of confessing his love to Beatrice, but doubts constantly botched the plan. What if she didn't want him like that? What if she thought he was too old? What if she did love him, but he changed his mind? Everything just got jumbled up and Lemony decided to tell her, ending the clash between both sides of his mind.
Lemony got up, glancing around the yard for Beatrice's dark hair. She wasn't anywhere. He made his way through the crowd of friendly faces, avoiding bumping into anyone. If he didn't find Beatrice quick, his doubts would take over again.
The only place left unsearched was the dank garage next to Beatrice's house and Lemony highly doubted he was in there. But…a weird feeling came over Lemony, something told him to enter the garage. And he did.
It was dark and cool. A shiver came across as Lemony walked silently, the gravel under his feet shifting every few steps. But, the gravel wasn't the only sound he heard. There were voices, two voices…and one was Beatrice's. Lemony stopped dead in his tracks, fearing they had heard him. But they were too involved in their conversation.
"I must admit, Beatrice," came a smooth voice. "You have become a very beautiful woman."
"I'm not a woman yet," Beatrice murmured. Lemony could hear the embarrassed tone in her voice, but she also sounded…flattered. "You know that, Olaf."
Lemony felt his eyes grow wide. Olaf? He didn't know his 20 something cousin was here. Why had he come to the party? No one liked him, everyone thought he was a no good jerk. Lemony crept closer to the voices, getting as close as he could. He saw Beatrice and Olaf standing between shelves of tools. Olaf was leaning against one shelf and Beatrice was in the middle of the aisle.
"Well," said Olaf, straightening up to his full height. "Then you are a beautiful young woman and I must admit…you have cast a spell on me."
Lemony could see Olaf had begun walking towards Beatrice and now he had her pressed up against the shelf behind her. He looked down at her with a hungry look in his shiny eyes. Beatrice's eyes gazed up at Olaf. Lemony couldn't tell what she was feeling. She looked slightly scared, but there was also a look of teenage longing.
"Tell me, Beatrice," Olaf said quietly, putting his hand up to her face and running his jagged nails across her skin. "Have you ever been touched like this?"
Beatrice had her eyes closed and her lips parted slightly. Lemony fought the jealousy that was brewing inside of him. He wanted so badly to reveal himself and end the scene that was unraveling in front of him.
"No…" Beatrice finally whispered breathlessly. She opened her eyes and gazed up at Olaf in a naïve way. "Never."
Olaf smiled and let his hands wander further down her body. He caressed down the pale skin of her neck, moving her dark hair away so he could put his mouth to her shoulders. Lemony watched as Beatrice sighed heavily and tried to push Olaf away, but she didn't seem to mind his vile hands touching her.
"Consider this your birthday present," Olaf wheezed. He was still bent over, fumbling with Beatrice's clothing. "This is better than any toy or doll your parents could have given you."
"No," Beatrice said a bit firmer, grabbing Olaf's hands and setting them at his side. "I'm not ready for…this."
"Trust me, you'll get over it. Once I…"
"No."
 Lemony was surprised at Beatrice's firmness. So was Olaf, who looked up at Beatrice and had a look of rage that Lemony never thought able to express.
"Listen to me," Olaf hissed, straightening up, grabbing Beatrice and slamming her into the shelf. "You were begging for this. It's only natural for me to give into your sick charms."
Lemony clenched his fists. What could he do? If he ran off, he would be caught and he knew Olaf's reputation of revenge. And if he tried to stop the scene himself…. it would only make things worse.
"Now," Olaf smirked. "Just be quiet, like a good girl, and this shouldn't hurt, in fact you may even enjoy this."
Beatrice stifled a cry as Olaf continued his deviant act, kissing down her neck and letting his hand run up her dress. Tears were flowing down Beatrice's face and they fell onto her and Olaf's bodies. Lemony saw Olaf's hand moving farther up Beatrice's dress and Beatrice tried to stifle a moan.
"No," Beatrice cried, trying all she could to push him away. "Please don't."
"It feels good, doesn't it?" Olaf whispered, still stroking Beatrice underneath her dress. "No matter how much you say it doesn't, it does. Don't deny it."
Olaf removed his hand and brought it down to his own lower regions. Lemony watched in horror as he heard Olaf unzipping his pants and Beatrice's frightened cry. He had to close his eyes; he wanted so badly to run away. But he couldn't find it in him to do so, something in him told him to stay.
"Now, just hold still."
"No, Olaf, I don't want to do this now. Please, just let me go."
Lemony's throat tightened at Beatrice's sobs and he closed his eyes quickly, not wanting to see her in such distress, but he opened them back up, only to see Olaf plunging himself into his beloved Beatrice.
Beatrice's face contorted into an expression of pure pain and she opened her mouth to scream, only to have Olaf's hand covering her mouth.
"No, if you give me away, it will be you who will be in danger, not me."
Beatrice's eyes went wide and she bowed her head. Lemony clenched his fists tightly. He hated Olaf, each time he plunged himself into Beatrice was another notch of bitter hatred towards him. Lemony palms throbbed in pain as his nails cut into them, but he knew it was nothing compared to what Beatrice was going through.
After what seemed like hours, Olaf let put a grunt and leaned his weight onto Beatrice. It was quiet for a few minutes; the only sounds filling the silence were Olaf's heavy breathing and Beatrice's ragged sobs. Olaf finally pulled out of Beatrice and zipped his pants, then straightened himself up. He finally looked down at Beatrice, who's whole appearance was disheveled and now missing a purity.
"If you tell anyone," Olaf hissed as he ran his hand along Beatrice's neck, then tightening his hold around it, as if to choke her. "I will hunt you down and kill you myself. Besides, no one would believe you anyways. You're just a child and I'm an adult."
Olaf smirked and let go of Beatrice, walking casually out of the shed as if nothing had happened. Lemony was still rooted at his spot. As soon as Olaf had left, Beatrice fell to the gravel covered ground and sobbed.
Lemony felt shame gather inside of him. Beatrice was raped and no one would ever know, only he saw the incident. But Olaf had threatened her not to tell…and he knew that applied to him as well. Now, Beatrice would be different, she would be jaded and no one would no why…except Olaf, Beatrice, and Lemony.