Isadora Quagmire ended her phone conversation with Klaus experiencing an eruption of emotion inside her. She couldn't be happier for her friends. He hadn't said it in so many words, but Isadora knew Klaus, knew what he couldn't outright say, and especially knew what could make him that happy. She'd known for ages.

She could easily recall their time altogether in boarding school. Klaus and Violet had been tight. They'd welcomed the Quagmires as friends, of course, but preferred one another to anyone else's company. They would rather face danger together than risk being apart, even if it meant freedom or escape, and that had all been understandable considering what the Baudelaires had been through. Didn't Isadora appreciate having her own brother at her side? Back then, she'd frequently had nightmares of Duncan burning alongside the rest of her family, leaving her all alone to face the world.

And it wasn't for lack of trying that the Quagmire's could not gain the affections of the two oldest Baudelaires. Again and again, Isadora had confessed her feelings through little couplets written to Klaus, surreptitiously placed in his pockets when he wasn't looking. She'd often seen Duncan holding hands with Violet, but it hadn't meant the same to her as it had to him, that was clear. When the Baudelaires had risked their own lives several times to rescue the Quagmires, Isadora couldn't help but get her hopes up, but it didn't take long to realize that guilt was the driving force in the Baudelaire's heroic actions, that Klaus and Violet blamed themselves for so many things that were never their fault, seeking atonement wherever they went. Yes, they had saved the day many times, but the Quagmire's had played the part of the damsel in distress too perfectly, and the tortured hero must work hard to ease his conscience.

But, after the long separation from their dear friends, Isadora noticed right away that the Baudelaire family dynamics had significantly shifted, not to mention they came home from some island with a baby in tow. God, the first thing she'd thought was that they'd had a baby together. Even after a reasonable explanation for Beatrice's existence had been given, Isadora had doubted the truth of it. Didn't the two of them treat Beatrice as if she were their own daughter? No child had ever been so loved as that little girl.

The only thing that eventually made her doubt her own doubt was Quigley. When Violet and Klaus came back into the picture, he stepped in like he had some higher claim on the Baudelaires, especially Violet. It was a confusing time for everyone, to say the least. The Baudelaires would never know just how endlessly the Quagmire triplets had squabbled possessively over them, though Isadora assumed they must've been doing their own fighting, because the tension between Klaus and Violet was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Where the Baudelaires could hardly keep their eyes off of each other in school, Isadora noted that now they barely looked the other's way.

Then, out of the blue, Klaus left. If Isadora had been sure of anything, it was that nothing in the whole world could come between Klaus and Violet, and she'd always imagined them to grow old together like Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert in Anne of Green Gables. Furthermore, it would probably take a holy miracle to separate Klaus from the beloved children in his life. But she'd been wrong. Turns out the wedge that finally drove them apart was a Quagmire after all, just not one Isadora was expecting.

It took some getting used to, but the arrangement that followed never did feel right. Violet changed, diminishing somehow under the care of Quigley, and Isadora secretly resented him for it. Where Violet used to be a solid steel wall of confidence and utilitarian versatility, she became more of a glass window filled with self-doubt, second-guessing every move, constantly worrying about Sunny and Beatrice and Klaus and Quigley's happiness, never bothering to pursue her own, but even so, Violet remained kind and beautiful, a steadfast friend, and a wonderful mother, for that is what she'd had to become at the young age of eighteen, and Isadora greatly admired her.

Klaus, on the other hand, grew lonely so far away from the family that he adored. Isadora and Duncan stayed in close contact with him while he was in college, making up excuses to visit him, sending him care packages, and calling him at least once a week. Klaus had once confided in her that Violet rarely called him and he only saw his family when he'd come home for school breaks. He'd made friends at college, but anyone could see that he was fairly homesick.

Home. If he could call Quigley's house a home. Isadora saw the way Quigley kept Violet busy when Klaus was visiting, how he gave backhanded compliments to Klaus, how Violet and Klaus only spoke to one another about the daily mundane, and how Klaus was more than ready go back to school at the end of his visits, even if Sunny and Beatrice cried for him for days after. Looking back, knowing what she knew now, Isadora couldn't help but wonder if Quigley held his own suspicions about the Baudelaire siblings.

But Isadora had not known the truth for sure, even if she'd sometimes suspected, until she was visiting Klaus one weekend. Duncan hadn't come with her and she'd been excited to spend time alone with Klaus. They had plans to attend a museum together, and Isadora had felt only exhilaration as he held her hand through the winding halls of art and sculpture. That evening, they visited his favorite pub, and when they met some of his friends there, he'd wrapped his arm around her shoulders and introduced her as his best friend and had kissed her on the cheek, making her heart swell.

Later that night, with a few drinks in their bloodstream, they sat close together on his little couch in the near dark of his apartment. Isadora wanted nothing more than to kiss Klaus, to be kissed by Klaus, and alcohol made her brave. She leaned in to press her lips to his, thinking perhaps, just maybe, he was ready for something…or someone new, but he hesitated.

"Isadora," he'd whispered against her mouth, drawing back ever so slightly, and it was more like a remonstrance than an endearment.

Disappointed and desperate, feeling more than a little lonely herself, she assured him, "It's okay, Klaus." She pressed a palm to his cheek and forced herself to smile instead of cry. "You can pretend I'm her, if it makes it easier." She remembered his little huff of disapproving amusement, but she did not miss the way his eyes flickered over her face, landing on her mouth, or the way his fingers slid through her long, dark hair. She took his moment of indecision to kiss him again, fully aware that she would always pale in comparison to Violet Baudelaire. Violet was shorter, but her body was robust and curvy next to Isadora's tall, straight elegance. Sure, they both had long, dark hair, but Violet's was kinetic and wavy, with a mind of its own, while Isadora's was silky smooth and as straight as her figure. Violet was rosy-cheeked and Isadora was pale with a smattering of freckles across her nose. Violet was cleverer than any girl she'd ever known, able to make anything out of practically nothing. What could Isadora do? String some rhyming words together?

In the end, there was no comparison. They kissed only for a short time until he slowed the whole thing to a stop. "You are not her," he said simply, honestly. His gaze was soft and tender, full of friendly affection and a touch of rueful melancholy. "You deserve to be loved by someone who wants only you, Isadora. I'm sorry," and he shook his head. "That person can't be me."

Isadora had swallowed her disappointment and staved off her tears for another time, instead, coaxing him into talking to her, where she finally learned the whole story of the ill-fated Baudelaire romance, however not as seemingly unrequited as Klaus thought, if Isadora had anything to say about it. They never spoke of it again, and Isadora never mentioned what she knew to Violet, keeping Klaus's secret like a best friend should. And though everything made a lot more sense now in the light of this new information, Isadora never could fully wrap her mind around the idea. She loved her brothers very much, had lived with Duncan her whole life, yet she had never, ever felt the tiniest inclination of romance toward either of them. Despite having said that, she could understand how Klaus was in love with Violet. Wasn't everybody?

Even Isadora was a little in love with her. In fact, she'd once shared a kiss with Violet. Warm, kind Violet, with her soft, full lips and her utterly inviting femaleness, had obviously enjoyed the attention from Isadora, reciprocating with an eagerness that turned to hunger as the kiss wore on. This both pleased and saddened Isadora. It was a nice experience, to be wanted by the beautiful Violet, the girl that everybody loved, and kissing her had felt more than good, but poor Violet had chosen wrong, hadn't she? She'd picked Quigley over everyone else, the one Quagmire (or Baudelaire), that had never had to work for Violet's attention, who had never yearned for her from afar, who'd gotten Violet too easily and had taken her for granted, if this needy kiss was anything to go by.

Of course, Violet's guilt kicked in straight away, that innate burden borne by all Baudelaires, and when she abruptly pulled back from the kiss it was written, clear as day, all over her face— the roundness of her eyes, the redness of her cheeks. Isadora let her off the hook quickly, laughing it off with her as a fluke. And when it seemed that Violet might cry anyhow, Isadora had rubbed her thumb over her cheek and comforted her as she had Klaus. "It's okay."

So, it was never going to be Isadora, and as disappointing as that was, she irrevocably loved her friends and truly desired only their happiness. If being together is what made them happy, especially after all they had been through, then she would not be the one to stand in their way…though she looked forward to hearing Violet's confession, because, surely, she wouldn't keep it from Isadora any longer. Though, maybe, they shouldn't tell Duncan. He was not as open-minded about Violet as she was, and she had suspicions that Quigley might already know.

Isadora sighed heavily, placing her phone in her back pocket as she poured herself a glass of wine. Sunny called for her from the newly built fort in the living room where they'd been watching an animated movie together. "Auntie? Are you coming?"

Pulling two more wine glasses down from cabinet, she filled each with apple juice and delivered them carefully to the two sweet girls in her care. "I'm here," Isadora said with a smile. "Just thought we might be thirsty."

"I liked talking with Klaus on your phone, Auntie," said Beatrice excitedly, scooting over to make room for Isadora to sit next to her. "He is so nice and I miss him when he's gone."

"Well," said Isadora encouragingly. "I think you'll be seeing quite a bit more of Klaus from now on." Sunny looked at her, puzzled, but Isadora only winked. She wasn't going to be the one to spill the beans.

Later that evening, after another shower, a redistribution of clean clothes, a wonderfully hot meal of meat and potatoes followed by a shared dessert, Violet and Klaus undressed again and slipped into bed. She fell asleep with Klaus's body bracketing hers, covered to the chin with warm blankets, reveling in the comfort that comes from being in an actual bed with somebody she loved more than life itself. But the night eventually became too warm, for when she woke again, the covers had been pushed down around their waists and Klaus had let her go to roll onto his back.

He was soundly asleep, one hand lay across his stomach, the other flung up under his pillow. A slice of light peeked out from around the cracked bathroom door to land on his chest and Violet took a moment to prop herself up on an elbow to admire Klaus's body in secret. She thought he was beautiful, even with several days of beard growth, which he'd already promised he would shave as soon as they got home.

Home. A house she or Klaus had never lived in, but that promised a new beginning for all of them. He'd delighted in saying it to her, she could tell, and in the wake of Klaus's extreme calm and confidence, the turbulence in her soul had quieted to a simmering hope, an anticipation of only good things to come. She looked forward to having all of her family together again, but could appreciate this time alone with her brother…her lover. Would he mind if she woke him? The sight of him laying there, his skin pale in the night, his dark curls a stark contrast against the white pillow, that tantalizing line of hair running down his belly, the general newness of being allowed to admire his body, well… it made her anxious for him. Like a voyeur, she lifted the sheet off of him until it laid across his thighs, exposing the soft thatch of hair surrounding his sex. She longed to suck it erect, but settled instead on dipping her fingertips into his belly button and tracing the bones of his hips.

Exhausted and deep into sleep, he never woke, not even when she ran her finger up the middle of his chest and all the way back down again into the thick hair over his pubic bone, letting her fingers barely brush over his penis. It gave a small twitch, and Violet could see goosebumps erupt all over his belly. He must've been dreaming about her, because he mumbled her name, his tongue thick and heavy in sleep. And that he intuitively knew that it was her laying beside him, even from the depths of slumber, soothed her soul. Seeing that he was obviously exhausted, and knowing in her heart that they would have plenty of time together in the coming days, weeks….months, she let her immediate need for him subside, laid her head on his shoulder, and in only a few minutes was able to fall back asleep.

Klaus, on the other hand, had no qualms about waking her up for sex. The room was awash with the dull gray light of dawn when Violet opened her eyes to the feel of her brother's hand roaming her body, up and down her arm, her hip, skimming across her belly to alight on her breast. His chest was flush with her back and his lips lingered over her shoulder, pressing soft kisses there. All in all, it was an acceptable way to start the day.

"Mmm, Klaus," she hummed softly in the early morning stillness. She reached up to ruffle the back of his hair with her fingernails, to hold him there, doing those nice things to her body.

"Good morning," he replied, moving his lips to the corner of her jaw. He continued to torture her slowly with his touch, over and over again, sliding his hand gently across her sensitive skin, but never lingering long enough in any one place, working her up, driving her crazy.

Finally, when she could take his teasing no more, she admonished him impatiently, "Klaus!"

He answered, his voice low and husky, breath huffing out over her ear. "Tell me what you want, Violet."

Not this again. A sound of frustration escaped her. "I'm here, aren't I? I'm naked. You already know what I want."

He grasped her behind the knee and pulled her leg up and over his thigh, opening her up to the slide of his erection through her obvious arousal. She thought once again how embarrassingly easy it would be to come. "Tell me," he reiterated. He reached for her hand and pulled it from his hair to interlace their fingers together, guiding their entwined hands over her breasts, past her belly button and between her legs to feel him there. Together, they touched one another until she used her fingers to force him into her and he entered her with a low moan, gripping her hand tightly.

"Yes," she breathed. "I want you to fuck me."

"I won't," he said even as he began to thrust into her.

"Semantics," she accused, though it held no weight because she turned her head so that she was able to kiss him, and they were both hungry for one another. He left her hand at the apex of her thighs turning circles over her clitoris, and dragged his palm up and under her neck to keep her there, kissing him, leaning her back against his chest a little so that he could reach her easily.

"Stubborn," he accused her back.

She laughed, giving in to what she knew he'd wanted to hear all along. "Okay. Make love to me then, Klaus. Just do it fast and hard."

He obliged, rocking the whole bed with his driving rhythm, making the springs squeak and Violet moan. He held tight to her thigh that lay across him and she liked how hard his fingers dug into her skin, and his deep voice that exhaled words of love and promise into her flushed cheek, his scruff of a beard scratching at her skin in the most agreeable way. With the first rush of electric orgasm that swept up her spine, Violet arched her neck, pressing her head into Klaus's shoulder, and he held her even tighter to him, letting her fly apart, but not away, as her body's muscles shook uncontrollably. He came right after, his seed a warm burst within her, his long torso folding around her, chest heaving, face buried deep in her hair.

The quiet and the stillness that followed made Violet's ears ring. She felt sleepy and wonderfully sated, and supposed there might be enough time to fall back asleep for a few more minutes. Violet idly wondered if Klaus was thinking about smoking a cigarette. Isn't that what smokers do after sex? She hadn't seen him with one for over a day, but he didn't seem bothered or in any particular hurry to get up. He had informed her last night that they would start the long hike back to their car early this morning. She simultaneously dreaded it and looked forward to spending these last couple of days alone with Klaus. Once they picked up the girls, Violet seriously doubted she would get a word in edgewise for at least two weeks. Sunny and Beatrice, both, would talk Klaus's ears off and he would admittedly love every minute of it.

Violet stroked his forearms which were now wrapped lazily around her middle. Happiness practically vibrated off Klaus and she could feel him smiling, even though she couldn't see him with his head pressed into the pillow behind her. Teasingly, she said, "Someone is feeling pleased with themselves."

"Yes," he laughed. "Aren't you? Do I need to keep going?" This was more of a threat than an offer as the boy seemed to have more stamina in his little…well, than Violet had in her whole body, apparently.

"God, no," she protested. "I am more than pleased."

"Really? How are you really feeling?"

"I'm exhausted. I've had more orgasms in the last 24 hours than I usually have in a whole month." This also pleased Klaus.

"So…you're not regretting…this? Me?"

"Of course not. Don't get me wrong. It scares the hell out of me, but I need you to understand…I'm not sure if I made my feelings clear. This isn't something new to me, Klaus. I've loved you just as long as you've loved me. The only thing I regret is not letting myself have you sooner, way back before things got complicated."

"When have things ever been uncomplicated?" he asked, but required no answer. "Are you ready to hike again today?"

"I'm ready to go home, so I guess I'll do whatever it takes to get there."

"You said last night that home is where the heart is," Klaus answered softly.

"Well, in that case, we can stay snuggled up right here in this bed." She turned in Klaus's embrace, wanting him to know she was telling the truth. "I already loved you when you first told me back on the island. I've loved you for so long."

"You might have mentioned it," he acknowledged with a sweet smile.

"I'm a mess," Violet stated. "I think everyone knows that. But how are you so calm? Are you not afraid at all?"

"To be fair, you're the only one who thinks you are a mess. Everyone else thinks you are wonderful and loves you." Violet could think of at least one or two people who didn't feel that way about her at all, but she didn't argue. He kissed her soundly on the lips. "I'm not afraid," Klaus said at length. "I can't remember ever feeling this happy. I'm on the verge of getting everything I've ever hoped for. Here you are," he said, stroking her cheek and her hair, "right where I've always wanted you, and I'm looking forward to bringing Sunny and Beatrice home with us. There's lots to do, to get figured out, but we get to do it together…and we've got the whole summer ahead of us." He was right. She couldn't remember when she'd felt so content with her prospects. What would have been a daunting venture alone, was totally accomplishable with Klaus by her side.

Violet hummed her approval, nuzzling closer into his embrace, tucking her head into his neck. "We've got our whole lives ahead of us."

The End

A/N: Thanks for reading! Check out my short, stand-alone scene, Wake-Up Call, based on an event mentioned in Path of Least Resistance.