Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or A Series of Unfortunate Events. All characters belong to Butch Hartman and Lemony Snicket (Daniel Handler).
…
Once the tremors from the ghost attack stopped shaking the house and Jeremy Manson had deemed it safe to exit the mansion's basement, it was clear that the tone of the home tour was quite ruined. The Baudelaires were shaken up and Jeremy's smile had grown slightly strained over the course of being stuck in the basement. So instead of trying to pick up where they had left off, Pamela instead encouraged the children to explore the rest of the house on their own.
"Or you can go outside if you'd like," she added hesitantly. "Just don't wander off too far. Samantha should be home soon, and then we'll be able to get you some new clothes."
Klaus exchanged a quick glance with his sisters and saw that they still looked as shaken as he felt. "Thanks, Aunt Pamela," he answered for them, "But I think we'll stay inside for now. We'd like to rest in our rooms."
The woman gave a quick, approving nod, looking somewhat relieved. "Alright, that's probably for the best," she said. "I'm sure you children are tired. If you need anything or want to talk, please be sure to find Jeremy or me. We're always more than happy to help." She made to leave before pausing and asked, "You remember where your rooms are located, right?" She smiled when she was met with three nods of confirmation and then left the children to their own devices.
While the Baudelaires had fully intended to retire to their individual rooms, they soon found themselves gathered in Violet's quarters. Each of their bedrooms were very similarly furnished with a bed, a dresser, a full-length mirror, and a desk (Sunny's differing only by having a crib and a toy chest in place of the bed and desk). The walls were pure white with a white trim, matching the carpet and furniture. The only color in the rooms came from the bedspreads and the curtains which were pale pink in the girls' rooms and pale blue in Klaus'.
During their time in the basement, Pamela had assured the children multiple times that they would be free to pick out their own decorations and remodel as they pleased. With a shameful look, she had admitted that she and her husband knew very little about the Baudelaires' interests and had thought it best to wait for them to do their own shopping.
Despite their good intentions, the lack of personal touches made the Baudelaires feel as if their rooms were part of a hotel rather than a house. The comparison sat uncomfortably within each of the children when coupled with the fact that they never seemed to spend long amounts of time at any guardian's house.
Their house was meant to be their new home, but it continued to feel as if it were just another stop on this ridiculous journey of misfortune. It was becoming more and more difficult with each new guardian to view each dwelling as a home.
It wasn't something that the children had talked about with one another, but rather something that they simply understood. Even Klaus, with all of the knowledge he gained from many years of reading doubted he could put these feelings into words.
The Baudelaires briefly entertained the idea of exploring the house as Pamela suggested, but found that they felt even more out of place outside of their rooms than within. Everything was so clean and so bright that it seemed to scream you don't belong any time they caught their reflections. So rather than explore the house, they remained in Violet's room mulling in silence over their new situation.
Klaus sat at Violet's desk looking out of the window for any signs of the supposed ghost attack while Sunny lay on the soft carpet chewing contentedly on one of the teething rings that the Mansons had provided. Already, it looked like the poor toy wouldn't last more than a few days against the girl's four sharp teeth. Violet sat on her own bed, her hands smoothing away the wrinkles of her newly acquired pink dress (Mrs. Manson had insisted that she change into it after the ghost attack). All three of the Baudelaires seemed unsure of who should break the silence.
"The Manson's seem...pleasant," Violet finally said.
"Yes, they do," Klaus agreed absently. His eyebrows furrowed and he turned around to face his sisters. "Do you really think that was a ghost attack? Or that this town is actually haunted?"
Violet's shoulders sagged as she let out a sigh of relief. She felt immensely grateful that her brother had brought up the topic. "I'm not sure," she answered honestly. "I don't know what else could have been shaking the house aside from an earthquake."
"It definitely wasn't an earthquake," Klaus said quickly, shaking his head. "The house shook multiple times, and aftershocks don't typically occur that close together or with increasing intensities." He rested his elbows on his knees and let his chin sit in his hands. "I know that I read very little on Amity Park, but this goes against everything that those books did say."
"Wroder," Sunny spoke up from her spot on the floor. The elder Baudelaires looked down at her and reluctantly nodded.
"That is true," Klaus sighed. "Several of the books I read on hypnotism were wrong as well." He lifted his glasses to wearily rub his eyes. "I suppose, all things considered, the ghosts should be the least of our worries."
An almost tangible heaviness settled upon the three children with Klaus' words. Even Sunny paused her attack on the teething ring.
"Do you really think he'll find us here?" Violet asked, already knowing the answer deep down.
"He's found us everywhere else," Klaus answered. "Why should Amity Park be any different?" He tried to smile. "Unless you think a ghost would be able to frighten him away?"
Despite the severity of the earlier attack, the idea of a bedsheet-covered specter seemed almost childish next to Count Olaf. The two threats were worlds apart, and the thought of Olaf facing off with such a creature was ridiculous enough for a few chuckles to escape the siblings. For a moment, their laughter caused some of the room's gloominess to dissipate.
The serious tone returned, however, when Violet bluntly said, "I think we should start developing a plan."
"Kaku?" Sunny asked.
"For Count Olaf," Violet elaborated. "Like you said, Klaus, he's found us everywhere else, and chances are he'll find us here too." She stood up and began to pace back and forth from the bed to the door, her voice growing firmer with each step. Her hands, as if moving with a mind of their own, had already pulled her ribbon out of her pocket and began tying her hair up. "As much as I want to give the Mansons the benefit of the doubt, no one else has believed us when we've tried to reveal Olaf's disguises." She paused. "We need to be ready."
"And how are we going to do that?" Klaus asked.
Violet deflated. "I don't know," she answered. "But it worries me how our escapes from him have been narrower and narrower each time. I don't know how much longer our luck can last."
"Then we'll stop relying on luck," Klaus said simply. "You're right, we should start thinking of a plan." He sighed and grinned wryly at his sisters. "I just don't know where to begin either," he said with a dry laugh.
Violet nodded in agreement, looking glumly at the floor. She was feeling restless now that she had shared her thoughts. While a plan was a good idea in theory, it was difficult to form when they had no idea how Olaf would reappear in their lives.
"Kei!" Sunny suggested. Her two siblings turned to her.
"That's actually not a bad first step, Sunny," Violet said, a touch of energy seeping into her voice. "He always comes to us, so we need to be aware of our surroundings." She reached down to pick her sister up, and Sunny, in turn, abandoned her teething ring to raise her arms up. Truthfully, it could barely be considered the first step of a plan, but it was enough to give them something to do. She turned to Klaus, "We'll have plenty of time to sit around later," she said, "But for now, let's explore our new home."
…
"I don't get it," Sam said frustratedly. She slammed her locker door shut hard enough for it to rattle the surrounding ones. Dropping her backpack onto the floor, she leaned against the cool metal, causing another, softer rattle to echo through the empty halls. "I mean, it just doesn't make any sense. They've never even mentioned the name 'Baudelaire' before!"
Tucker, sitting on the ground beside her, looked up from his PDA and shrugged, offering her an encouraging smile. "Maybe it won't be so bad. You did say that you wished you weren't an only child."
"When I was eight," Sam sputtered. She crossed her arms and shifted her focus to the school bell above them. She and Tucker had been out of class for nearly an hour already, but were waiting for Danny's detention to end.
It wasn't an unusual event for them considering that they found themselves staying after school more often than not. Today's detention was courtesy of some sort of ghostly serpent that decided that the perfect time to wreak havoc throughout the surrounding neighborhoods would be during their literature exam. Danny, of course, had excused himself to rush to the bathroom and ended up missing most of the period, leaving behind a test that had more questions blank than answered. Rather than fail him though, Mr. Lancer had required that he stay after school to finish the test.
It wasn't long before the final bell of the day rang out and Danny burst out of Lancer's classroom at the end of the hall. "Sweet freedom at last!" he exclaimed, stretching his arms out as he made his way to the lockers. He skidded to a stop when he saw Sam and Tucker and grinned widely. "You know you guys don't have to wait for me every time I get detention."
"Like we're going to leave you behind, dude," Tucker said. He stood up and tucked his PDA into his back pocket before slinging an arm around Danny. "Besides, Sam's still trying to avoid going home for as long as she can."
"I'm not avoiding anything!" the girl snapped loudly. Her two friends looked at her with wide eyes, and a blush crept up on her cheeks. "Sorry," she muttered, lowering her voice. She sighed and pushed herself off of the lockers. "I just…" she trailed off trying to find the right words. "I just don't know how to wrap my mind around all of this. You know how my parents are."
Tucker and Danny exchanged a look, remembering exactly how Sam's parents were.
Sam continued on, not waiting for them to respond. "I once asked them if I could get a snake and they didn't give me an answer until three weeks later and it was no. All because they had to examine how it would 'affect the household' and determine 'what kind of image it would send.'" She made air quotes around the phrases.
"For them to just suddenly adopt three children from a family they've never even talked about is like the equivalent of Dash deciding to actually do his homework instead of bullying others to do it for him." She crossed her arms and lowered her eyes. "And it's really unfair that they didn't even talk to me about it before last night. After everything was finalized."
Danny placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and offered a small smile. "Hey, relax," he said. "I'm sure it's going to be alright."
"But what if it isn't?" Sam pressed. "I don't even know anything about these kids, but knowing my parents' friends, they're probably rich and brainless. What if we don't get along or they're just like Paulina or Dash? It's hard enough living with my parents most of the time. Could you imagine me living with some snobby, preppy kids as well? I won't be able to―."
"Sam!" Danny interrupted. "Calm down!" Seeing his friend's startled face, he laughed. "You're getting worked up over nothing. You haven't even met them yet!"
"Yeah," agreed Tucker. "You might actually like them once you get to know them."
"Besides, you've fought literal ghosts before," Danny assured her. "I'm pretty sure you can handle a few rich kids." Danny shrugged. "And if you can't, you can always crash at my place."
Sam snorted, but her eyes lit up in amusement. "No offense, Danny, but the last time I stayed over at your house, my dinner tried to attack me."
"That was one time!" Danny protested. "Besides, my dad's since gotten rid of the Fenton Oven."
"It's definitely happened more than once," Sam said, earning an agreeing nod from Tucker. "But thanks. Depending how this weekend goes, I might be desperate enough to take you up on that offer." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm herself.
"In any case, you guys are right. I just need to face them and give them a chance."
"Exactly," Tucker agreed. "So now that we've got that covered, do you guys want to go grab some food at the Nasty Burger? I'm starving." He picked up Sam's backpack off the floor and handed it to her.
Sam took the backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "I can't today," she sighed. "I promised my parents that I'd go straight home after school. I'm sure they're upset and already planning their lecture as we speak."
"Well, what about later?" Danny asked. The three of them began walking down the hall towards the school's entrance, passing by the few lingering students who were getting out of after-school clubs. "We could all meet up for dinner and then go to the arcade or something."
"As great as that sounds, I think my parents are going to want me to hang out with the Baudelaires," Sam said.
"Bring them!" Danny suggested, enthusiastically. "Then we can meet them and all get to know each other."
Sam paused. "That's actually not a bad idea," she said after a moment. "It'd be way less awkward getting to know them if we could all hang out together."
"So let's do it," Tucker said decidedly. "We'll meet at the Nasty Burger for dinner, and you can introduce us to your new siblings."
Upon hearing the word 'siblings,' Sam flinched with its unfamiliarity, but the enthusiasm of her friends left her with higher spirits. She could already feel her frustrations and worries slowly begin to seep out of her.
The three friends continued to talk amiably as they made their way to their homes, Danny filling them in on the details of the most recent ghost attack and Tucker excitedly going on about some new update for his PDA. For a good half mile, they were able to share the same path, but eventually the crossroads came where Sam would have to part ways with the boys. And just as fast as it had disappeared, the anxiety returned.
As she waved goodbye to her friends, her heart felt as if it was sinking further and further into the ground. Slowly, she lowered her hand and looked down the street to where her house stood. Apprehension held her in its grasp.
She took a deep breath and readjusted her backpack. "You've fought ghosts before, you can handle this," she muttered to herself, repeating Danny's earlier words. "And you've somehow handled everything else Mom and Dad have thrown at you, what's a few kids from supposed friends they've never mentioned before…" She trailed off, again realizing just how strange the situation was.
Sooner than she would have liked, she arrived at her front door and brought out her key. She stuck it into the lock, but hesitated to turn it. Everything was going to be different once she went inside, and she wasn't sure she was ready for her world to change just yet. A small part of her wanted to turn back around and find her friends. It would be so easy to just spend the afternoon with them and put all of this off for as long as she could.
She was never one to choose "easy" though.
With a rush of determination, she turned the key and pushed open the door. The scent of lavender and an assortment of cleaning chemicals hit her immediately. It had been three days since they'd had the floor polished, and the scent still hadn't faded. Somehow, the floral room sprays her mother used only made it worse.
Sam shrugged her backpack off, dropping it by the door and noticed three pairs of very worn out shoes. They were caked in mud and what looked like saw dust. They had to belong to the Baudelaires, Sam was certain, but she couldn't guess why they would have such filthy shoes. It was a wonder her mom hadn't kept them outside of the house.
For a few moments, Sam stood awkwardly in the foyer feeling strangely uncomfortable in her own house. Normally, she would head straight to her room after school, but today wasn't normal. She debated between seeking out her parents or seeking out the Baudelaires directly. The debate didn't last long, as the choice was made for her. A male voice could be heard from the grand stairway.
"I think we've seen all of the rooms on the second floor. We can probably―oh! Hello."
Sam looked up to the top of the staircase and saw three children: A girl that looked about her age, a boy with glasses who looked maybe a few years younger, and a small infant in the older girl's arms. She knew immediately that these must be the Baudelaires.
They looked nothing like the images Sam had built up of them in her mind. Embarrassingly enough, she had half-expected clones of Paulina or Dash, but the people in front of her looked as far from the as humanly possible.
To start with, the girl was wearing an awful pink dress that she recognized with slight mortification as the one she had kept hidden in the back of her closet. The horror quickly gave way to annoyance as she realized that her mother must have invaded her room again without permission.
The boy and, strangely enough, the infant the infant were both wearing what appeared to be a sort of uniform jumpsuit. There was a faded logo on the arms of the uniform that she could just make out the word "lumber" on. The shoes by the doorway suddenly made much more sense.
But what stood out about the children was not the clothes they were wearing, but their expressions. They looked tired. Not the tired you get when you have a bad night's sleep, or even when you make it through a long week. No, this was a tired that Sam rarely even saw in most adults. In fact, the only expression she had ever seen come close to the ones in front of her was after Danny had entered the ghost portal for the first time and, for lack of a better word, half-died.
She continued to study them, and the three studied her in return. They seemed to be just as taken aback with her appearance as she was with theirs. After a second she blinked, slightly shaking her head. Her cheeks flushed a light pink as she realized they had just been standing in silence this whole time.
"Hey," she greeted, smiling. She gave a small wave and approached the base of the staircase. "I'm guessing that you're the Baudelaires. I'm Sam."
The eldest girl was the first to react, and she began to make her way down the stairs, her brother following close behind her. She shifted the infant to her left arm so that she could shake Sam's hand. "My name's Violet," she said. "And this is my brother Klaus and my sister Sunny."
Sam turned to Klaus as Violet introduced him and shook his hand. The youngest Baudelaire reached a small hand out as well, and with a growing smile, Sam gently took it and gave it a quick shake too.
"Smada!" Sunny gurgled.
"She says that it's nice to meet you," Violet translated.
"Well, it's nice to meet you too," Sam cooed, bending down slightly to Sunny's level. She found that she had to resist the urge to pinch the young girl's cheek.
A million topics rushed through Sam's head to prevent another silence from settling upon them, and she chose the first. "So not that I'm judging your guys' style or anything, but what's up with the uniforms?"
The siblings exchanged glances before Klaus explained, "We worked in a lumber mill before your parents became our guardians."
That certainly hadn't been the answer, Sam had been expecting. "And they had uniforms available in infant sizes?" She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Is it even legal for people our age to work at a lumber mill?"
"No," Klaus and Violet answered simultaneously.
Sam nearly laughed, thinking that the two were joking, but their serious looks stopped her. Her eyes moved to Violet. "And I'm guessing my mom gave you the dress?" she asked after a moment.
Violet's eyes widened slightly as she remembered who the dress originally belonged to and looked down at the material. "I'm sorry, this is your dress," she said, mistaking Sam's tone for accusation. "Your mom wanted me to try it on and―."
"Don't worry about it," Sam interrupted, holding up her hands. "Believe me, it's all yours. I should actually be thanking you. I've been trying to get rid of the thing for the past month." Her eyes lit up. "In fact, you can have all of my dresses if you'd like!"
Violet's smile faltered ,and her eyes caught Klaus struggling to keep a straight face. "Oh, that's alright," she said quickly. "You really don't have to…"
Realization dawned on Sam, and a smirk settled on her face. "You don't like them either, do you?"
"It's a nice dress," Violet said slowly. She ran her free hand over the embroidered daisies, choosing her next words carefully. "I'm just not overly fond of the color pink."
The bust of laughter that escaped Sam caught the three Baudelaires by surprise. "It's an ugly dress," she said. "It's okay to admit it." Noting the girl's guilty look, she added, "Don't worry, I won't tell Mom."
Violet's lips curled into a small, but genuine smile. "It really is an unattractive dress," she agreed. "I didn't know how to react when Aunt Pamela showed it to me."
"Gady," Sunny said in agreement.
"I'm going to assume that Sunny here suggested that we burn it as soon as we can," Sam said, giving an approving smile to the young girl. "If you want, you can borrow something else form my closet."
Before Violet could answer, she was interrupted by someone else entering the foyer.
Samantha, sweetie," Pamela Manson greeted as she approached her daughter. Her tall heels clicked with each step she took on the marble floor. She wrapped her arms around Sam, who awkwardly accepted the display of affection. "We were expecting you back home over an hour ago. Where have you been? And how was your exam?"
Sam pulled out of the hug, red-faced, but relieved that her mother hadn't dived into the lecture that she'd been expecting. "I had to stay after school," she answered and then added quickly, "But the test went well!"
"Wonderful," Pamela said cheerily. "And I see you've met the Baudelaires. You know, Violet will actually be joining your class on Monday." She clasped her gloved hands together, bringing them up to her smiling lips as she looked over the children. Her eyes were shining and, for a moment, Sam almost thought that they looked watery, as if she were about to cry, but the moment passed as quickly as it came when her mother continued talking.
"Sammy, I told the Baudelaires that this afternoon would be a perfect time to visit the mall," she said. "I was thinking that you might be able to help them pick out some new clothes and perhaps some decorations for their rooms." She placed her hands on her hips. "You could also do with some new dresses as well, you know?"
Sam rolled her eyes at the mention of the dresses, but didn't comment on it. "Sure," she said. "Let's do it." She caught Violet's eye and winked. "I'm sure that I can help them find some proper clothes."
Picking up on her daughter's tone, Pamela pursed her lips. "And by proper, I do hope you mean something other than that dark, gloomy clothing you're always wearing."
"By proper, I mean clothing that teenagers would actually wear, Mom," Sam retorted. She crossed her arms. "Don't worry, I'm not going to corrupt them or bring them to the dark side or whatever it is you and Dad think I do."
Now it was Pamela's turn to roll her eyes. "Just choose whatever clothing you like best," she said, turning to the Baudelaires. "Whether that the clothing that makes you look like a vampire," she narrowed her eyes in Sam's direction, "Or clothing that makes you look like proper ladies and gentlemen."
"Vampires have more fun!" Sam chimed in from behind her mom.
"Honestly, what am I going to do with you, Samantha?" Pamela sighed, all too used to her daughter's antics. "Why don't you go find your father and tell him we're ready to go now? I think he's in his study."
"Sure thing. See you guys back in a bit," she said to the Baudelaires before heading off in the direction of her dad's study. The room resided at the end of the west wing hall, and its heavy door was almost always closed. When Sam was little, she had believed that her dad would hide away secret documents in the room, but had quickly learned over the years that the closed doors weren't to keep people out, but rather to keep all his work in.
Her father held the strong belief that his work life should never mingle with his home life. If he kept his work isolated in the study, then he could focus solely on his family throughout the rest of the house. As a result, the doors were usually shut and locked.
Sure enough, when she reached the oak doors of the room, they were closed. She gave two quick knocks against the wood. There was a squeaking sound that Sam recognized as someone leaning back in the leather desk chair.
"Can't you just let me be, Pam? I don't want to go over this again."
Sam blinked in surprise. While it was her dad's voice that had spoken, it didn't sound like him at all. His tone was colder than she had ever heard it before, and it chilled her. She hesitated before speaking. "Uh, Dad, it's me." Before she could say anything else, the chair squeaked again and the doors opened.
"I'm sorry, Samantha," he said immediately. "I didn't realize that you were home already." He frowned at his watch. Time must have gotten away from me." Closing the study doors behind him, he offered a tired smile. "What can I do for you, sweetheart?"
The quick return to his normal, preppy tone nearly gave Sam whiplash, and it took her a moment to remember the reason she had even sought out her dad. "Um...Mom wanted me to tell you that we're ready to go to the mall," she finally answered.
"The mall?" Jeremy's eyebrows knit in confusion for a second before raising in remembrance. "Oh, that's right!" he said. "To get new clothes for the Baudelaires, I remember now." He put a hand on his daughter's shoulders. "We had better get going then."
While Sam usually stayed out of her parents' business (her schoolwork and supernatural extracurriculars taking up most of her time anyway), she couldn't quite let her dad's previous actions go. "Is everything okay with you and Mom?" she asked. "Like, are you guys having a fight or something?"
"A fight?" her dad laughed. "Of course not! Your mother and I never fight. I've just been a little stressed with some issues at work is all." He ruffled Sam's hair lightly. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about us, Sammy. Things are fine."
Sam brushed her dad's hand away and smoothed her hair back down. "If you say so," she muttered. Sam sensed it wasn't the whole truth, but didn't want to push the subject any further. If her parents were in an argument, they could deal with it themselves.
The two of them met up with the rest of the family back in the foyer. Pamela was holding Sunny and making soft cooing noises at the child while the elder Baudelaires finished tying their shoes. When she noticed her husband enter the room, her smile faltered for a brief second, but returned just as strong.
"There you are," she said sweetly. "I think we're all ready to head to the mall then."
"Actually, darling," Jeremy interjected, "Edgar called me earlier. Something's come up at the office, and I'll need to swing by for a little bit. I can drop you and the kids off for shopping, and then pick you all up in time for dinner. Sound alright?"
"That sounds like a perfect plan," Pamela said without missing a beat. Without giving her husband a second look, she gestured towards the doorway. "Come on children. Let's hurry so that we can get you out of those dreadful lumber mill uniforms."
"Yabba!" Sunny said enthusiastically, while Klaus nodded his head in agreement.
…
Much to Pamela's relief, the Baudelaires did not share the same fashion sense as her daughter. Violet had picked out several simple, but elegant dresses as well as a few modest skirts and tops. Klaus' choices held more variety. He selected an assortment of blazers, sweater vests, dress shirts, and khaki pants.
She noticed that the Baudelaires gravitated towards more muted colors, and while she thought that they would look lovely in the bright, cheery colors many of Sam's classmates wore, she didn't comment on their choices. True to her word, she allowed the children to pick whatever kind of clothing they desired. She even let her daughter add several more gothic pieces to her wardrobe. She did, however, snag a few sparkling, floral pieces just in case either of the girls changed their minds.
Shopping for Sunny was a different matter. The group of them worked together to find outfits that the girl might like, ranging from active jumpers to little dressing gowns. They had also picked up a few larger pieces of clothing as Pamela had remembered how fast Sam had grown out of her clothing at that age.
In one of the stores, Sam found a pair of overalls in Sunny's size that had a spider with a fanged grin embroidered on the front. While Pamela had initially worried that it was much too dark for an infant, the young girl took to it immediately, refusing to let it go.
Klaus and Sunny had changed after their visit to the first store, eager to be rid of their old work uniforms. When they emerged from the mall's restroom in their new outfits, they looked much more happy and relaxed.
As far as she could tell, everyone seemed to be enjoying their shopping trip, herself included. In addition to the clothing stores, they had also visited a few hobby shops and home stores as well to get the Baudelaires some decorations for their rooms. She was able to make some arrangements for the heavier items, such as Violet's toolkit and a kitchen playset for Sunny to be delivered to the house.
"Thank you again so much, Aunt Pamela," Klaus said, as he was handed a bag from the cashier. "It really does feel nice to be wearing normal clothes again."
"It's my pleasure," Pamela said. Her eyes lit up when she caught sight of a seating area outside of the store. "Why don't you children go on into this next shop," she encouraged. "I need to rest my feet for a few minutes." It had been ages since she had been on a shopping trip of this magnitude and heels had not been the best choice of footwear.
"Alright," Violet said. "We shouldn't be long. I think we have everything we could possibly need."
"No, no," Pamela said, waving them off. "Take your time, there's no rush. Just leave your bags with me, and I'll watch them."
As she sat on the bench, Klaus set the many shopping bags down on the ground beside her. She offered to hold Sunny while the older siblings went inside the store with Sam, but Violet politely declined. For the briefest of moments, Pam thought that she ought to feel offended, but she had to remind herself that it wasn't personal. After all the Baudelaires orphans had been through, it made sense that they would want to stick together. Besides, a healthy distrust of strangers was probably not the worst trait for them to have picked up considering their recent history. She sighed, closing her eyes and leaning back in the chair.
"Mom?"
Pamela's eyes shot open as she straightened herself. Sam was sitting beside her, lips curled into a frown.
"Sammy-kins," Pamela breathed. Her eyes darted around, looking for the other children. "What are you still doing here? I thought you were going to go with the Baudelaires."
The girl shrugged. "I told them that I would catch up. I needed to talk with you first."
"Oh? And what is it that you need to talk with me about?"
Sam studied her mom a moment longer before asking, "Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm feeling fine," Pamela answered automatically. "Why? Do I look like I'm getting sick?" Her hands were already reaching up to fix her perfect hair before she paused and noted her daughter's expression. Lowering her hands, she admitted, "I'm just a little tired. I'm happy to have the Baudelaires here, but there's been a lot that your father and I have had to prepare for their last minute arrival, especially since we hadn't heard news from the family in years."
"You are going to tell me how you know the Baudelaires at some point, right?" Sam pressed.
"I told you, they were old family friends. That's really all there is to it." She patted her daughter's shoulder. "Now go on and join the Baudelaires. The sooner we finish up here, the sooner we can go and enjoy dinner."
"Actually, Mom," Sam interrupted. "I already promised Danny and Tucker that I would meet up with them for dinner."
Pamela's smile dipped into a small frown. "Samantha, this is our first evening with the Baudelaires. Surely you can reschedule your get together for another time."
"It's for the Baudelaires," Sam hastily explained. "It was Danny who suggested it. He and Tucker really want to meet them."
"Samantha," Pamela began wearily.
"No, it'll be great!" Sam continued brightly. "Violet and Klaus are already starting the semester late and most people are already in cliques. It would be good for them to make some friends before actually starting school on Monday, right?"
Pamela's expression faltered, and Sam knew that she had won her over. With a sigh, Pamela surrendered. "I trust you'll remember your curfew?"
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Sam nodded. "Of course, Mom. We'll be back home before it gets late."
"Just promise me that you'll watch over the Baudelaires," Pamela said seriously. "They're not used to Amity Park. If you see anything suspicious―and I mean anything―be it human, ghost, or anything in between, promise me you'll come straight home."
"Mom, relax," Sam said, laughing lightly. "We're just going out to eat. We're not going to do anything dangerous."
"Please just promise me, Samantha," Pamela insisted.
"Okay, I promise," Sam said, raising her hands up in surrender. "We'll be back home before curfew and we'll be careful."
Pamela visibly relaxed, sinking back into the chair. "Thank you," she said. "Now you go catch up with the Baudelaires while I call your father and let him know we're almost done." She pulled her cell phone out of her purse as Sam got up and nodded.
"Thanks, Mom," Sam said, smiling.
"Mhmm," Pamela hummed, waving her off as she brought the phone up to her ear. She watched her daughter go into the store to find the Baudelaires before she lowered her phone. She stared at the screen for several long seconds, her thumb hovering over the call button before she closed the app and typed a message instead.
It didn't take long for the Baudelaires and Sam to finish up their shopping. By the time that they had made their way back to the sitting area to find Pamela, Jeremy had messaged her that he was at the front of the mall. Working together to carry all the bags, the five of them made their way to the waiting car.
Once the bags were put away in the trunk, Pamela provided the children with some extra money to pay for dinner and whatever other activities they had planned for the evening. The Baudelaires had been reluctant to accept the money at first, but with some urging, they eventually accepted it gratefully and went on their way with Sam.
Pamela watched them make their way down the street before reluctantly getting into the car. "I don't want to argue," she said tiredly as she settled into the passenger seat.
Jeremy's shoulders fell as his grip on the steering wheel relaxed. "Then let's not argue," he said simply. "Let's just go forward."
Pamela turned to study her husband, looking for any traces of sarcasm or mockery and, when she could find none, gave a small, grateful smile. The tension that she had been feeling over the course of the afternoon finally began to loosen. She knew this wasn't going to be the end of their disagreement, but could tell that Jeremy felt just as tired as she did.
"I take it they're not coming?" Jeremy asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.
"Pamela sighed, pulling her seatbelt over her chest. "No, Samantha said that she had some plans with her friends and wanted the Baudelaires to join her. It'll be nice for them to bond, and at least Violet will have some friends when she attends Casper High."
Jeremy could hear the uncertainty in his wife's words and watched as she spied on the kids through the rearview mirror. He placed a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder. "I'm sure they'll be fine," he assured her. "They have Samantha, and besides, the Baudelaires were never ones to give up so easily."
"No, they weren't," agreed Pamela. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the car seat. She wanted nothing more than to just sleep for a few hours. "Let's just go home," she said tiredly. "There's still much to do."
Her husband merely nodded, putting the car into drive and leaving their daughter and the Baudelaires alone.
…
So...it's been over a year since I first posted this story. I really am sorry that this chapter took so long to get out. The good news is, I've already started writing the next one, so there will definitely be an update before 2021!
The response that I've gotten for this story completely blew me away, and I want to thank you all so much! I really didn't think that many would read a crossover between these two fandoms, but I'm so glad that I was wrong. Also, I wanted to add, this story is based on the main book series + Lemony Snicket: The Unauthorized Autobiography. I haven't read the prequel series yet or watched seasons 2 and 3 of the Netflix series. I just wanted to give a heads up in case this story contradicts anything the Netflix series did differently or that the prequel series revealed.
Please let me know what you think of this chapter, all reviews are very much appreciated!