Dear Reviewers:

Lady Emily: -Pulls Frequent Updater Award off shelf and blows dust off of it- I won't let you down! :)

QQuagmire: Why thank you! I've got plans for this one... Expect some twists!

Ed the Giant Raccoon: I'd just like to say that I love you penname. (Teehee.) Oh yes, and thanks!

Let's see what Sunny's up to...

Chapter 2: M i x e d C o m p a n y

"Aw, poor dear."

"It's okay girlie, we're not going to hurt you."

"There, there pet."

Sunny warily opened her eyes. She found herself inside a large car. The windows were tinted and an odd smell wafted through the air. The leather on the seats was tearing and stuffing had begun to come out. But it wasn't the spooky interior of the automobile that made her eyes widen. It was the strange assortment of people that surrounded her.

Sitting on one side of her was a woman. She was extremely thin, her short hair was pitch black and her complexion was so amazingly pale that she had the appearance of a ghost. A sand-colored poncho hung over her shoulders. At Sunny's right side was another woman, only this one was much younger, had fiery red hair that poofed out every which way, her eyes were big, and she wore a smile that was so wide it made Sunny's jaws hurt to look at her. The young woman squirmed in her seat the way Sunny did after a cup of coffee. In the passenger's seat up front, looking back at her, was a very tall man with dark messy hair. He grinned also, but when he did, Sunny saw that all of his teeth were made of silver. And driving the car was another man, but he was very quiet and he wore a wide-brimmed hat that was pulled down so most of his face was obscured. From what Sunny could see, though, he looked relatively young, about Klaus's age.

"It's alright dearie, there's nothing to worry about," said the pale woman in a motherly tone.

"Yeah, we came to save you," piped the redheaded woman.

"Save me?" Sunny asked.

"Yes, it's a good thing we got there in time," the pale woman said.

"What do you-"

"Oh! I'm so terribly sorry!" interrupted the tall man with the silver teeth. "We completely forgot to introduce ourselves!"

"Oh yes, how silly of us!" giggled the redheaded woman. "My name is Gwenyth!"

"I am Brigitte," said the pale woman. "Remember, that's pronounced Bri-zheet, not Bridget."

"And my name's Weasel," said the silver-toothed man. "Actually, that's not my real name, but Weasel's what everyone calls me."

Sunny nodded, still trying to make sense out of her situation.

Weasel jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the driver. "That there's Fedora. He doesn't talk much, won't even tell us his name. So we call him Fedora."

Fedora offered a silent wave back at Sunny, not taking his eyes off the road.

"We call him that because a Fedora is the kind of hat he wears," Weasel added.

"I know what a Fedora is," Sunny said.

Weasel nodded. "Ah, of course you do. You're a Baudelaire."

Sunny narrowed her eyes. "Why did you kidnap me?" she asked.

Gwenyth frowned. "We didn't kidnap you. We're rescuing you," she said.

"From what?" Sunny demanded.

The three "kidnappers" looked at one another, something like pity in their eyes. "Dearie," Brigitte began softly, "You're sister's hurt."

Sunny's eyes widened. "What? How do you know?"

"We just found out. She was shot," Weasel said.

"Who...Why would anyone..." Sunny whimpered.

Gwenyth put a hand on Sunny's head, stroking the ribbon that was tied in her hair. "We're so sorry Sunny," she whispered.

Tears began to pool in Sunny's dark eyes. "Is she-?"

Weasel shook his head hastily. "No, no, she's fine. A bullet to her shoulder, that's all."

She let out a sigh of relief. "But still... Why did you take me?" Sunny asked again.

"We wanted to be sure you were safe," Gwenyth said.

Brigitte thought for a moment before speaking. "Sunny, has your brother been acting suspicious for some reason?"

Sunny frowned, wondering what Brigitte could mean. "No," she said, but then had a second thought. "Well... He won't let me see any of his detective work, and he's been spending a lot of time in his room lately, sending telegrams..."

Weasel nodded, giving the others a knowing glance. He pulled a Polaroid photograph from his pocket and showed it to Sunny. It was a picture of Violet and Klaus in what looked like a library. Violet had her gun drawn.

"Hey," Sunny said, reading the date scrawled on the back, "this was taken when we were in France."

"You know about V.F.D., right Sunny?" Brigitte asked.

"Enough, I guess," Sunny replied.

"Well..." Gwenyth leaned closer, as if she were about to tell Sunny something she didn't want anyone else to hear. "I know this might be a bit odd to you, but my associates and I have reason to believe that your brother is a spy for the wrong side of the Schism."

Sunny blinked. "But the Schism happened a long time ago. V.F.D. hasn't been active for years," she said.

"The Volunteers have been talking," Brigitte said. "They've been thinking of getting V.F.D. back together."

"Yes," Weasel agreed. "We've been watching Klaus for a while. We had our suspicions, but now we're almost positive he's trying to collect information for the enemy."

"But Klaus isn't... He wouldn't..." Sunny stammered. "He's been a Volunteer since he was a kid."

"Sunny, just think about it," Gwenyth said. "He hasn't told you anything about his investigations, he's been sending a lot of telegrams. I'm sorry, but you know what they say, everybody has some secrets."

Sunny speculated the idea for a while. Yes, Klaus had been behaving strangely, but for what reason, she had no clue. He had become a tad irritable it seemed to her, being so absorbed in his studies that he no longer had time for their weekly game of Scrabble. Sunny had passed it off with no concern, but now she was beginning to see that there could be another side of the story, a side that told her that there could be a part of Klaus she didn't know, a side that reminded her of how there was that 10-year period in which she barely knew who he was. But Klaus was her brother...

"How do I know I can trust you?" Sunny asked.

Weasel reached into his pocket and pulled out another photograph. Klaus was in the picture, and he had a gun in his hand.

"How do you know you can trust him?"

. . .

The long black automobile finally pulled into the driveway of a large house with a tall, crumbling tower stuck to the side of it. It looked rather old, paint peeling and windows cracked. Fedora silently walked up the front steps, and with a gentlemanly, yet very slight tip of his hat, he opened the aged door and ushered her in.

Brigitte, Weasel, and Gwenyth followed, hanging up their coats and pointing to various things in the parlor they thought might interest Sunny. One thing she noticed was how the whole house seemed to be themed with eyes.

"Just wait until you meet our boss," Gwenyth said. "She's a real visionary."

"She used to be a clothing stylist," Brigitte added.

"But you probably shouldn't mention her eye-patch," Weasel advised. "She doesn't like to talk about it."

"She has an eye-patch?" Sunny asked, again wondering who these people were and if she should be afraid.

As Sunny asked her question, Fedora quietly slipped away to an old wooden door in the next room. He opened it and started the long climb up the stairs to the tower room. When he finally reached the top, he found a young woman standing at the far window. Her hands were clasped behind her back as she gazed out over the gray city.

"We found Sunny Baudelaire," Fedora said.

The corners of the woman's red-painted lips curled up in a sinister smile. "Aye. He'll come."