Matches and Darts: Chapter Four (Violet/Olaf)

Story: Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events
Pairing: Violet/Olaf
Rating: PG13 (Soon to be M)
Summary: Just a little story taking place at the Bad Beginning. Olaf's POV (from third person, WTF?)
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me...

When Olaf woke up the next day, his brain throbbed as though someone had placed a bag of rocks over his head, spun him around a few times, then dumped him onto his mattress. Groaning in pain, he sat up miserably and clutched his temples, distinctly agitated by the sunlight.

Even more agitated by the fact that someone had scribbled on his mirror in what looked like eyeliner. Sighing, he tottered to his feet, shuffling towards his dresser as he tried to read the illegible scrawl.

'Porriage? Are we out of oatmeal?' he thought blandly, stumbling down the stairs.

Five minutes later and he was back, contemplating the word once more.

'Parriage? Unless... if I tilt my head this way...'

"Marriage," he said, before grunting and turning away, not really registering immediately what the inclination was to write the word in the first place.

That is, until he noticed he'd added more notes to the small pile of papers on the bedside table. Pausing to take a peek, his eyes were immediately drawn to a casting sheet.

Olaf stared at this for a full five minutes before finally realizing the full purpose this plan would fulfill.

Flopping down onto the floor, he scrabbled desperately at something under his mattress. He froze for a moment as something crawled over his hand then resumed as the fat spider ambled away across the floor, heading agitatedly for a safe corner.

Finally pulling out a large chunk of charcoal, he sat down and began to write.

He was a good way into the script when the phone rang downstairs. After trying desperately to ignore it, and hoping the orphans would answer it for him, he finally sighed and, defeated, he tromped down the stairs.

"What?" he grunted agitatedly into the reciever.

"Ah! Count Olaf? It's Mr. Poe, from the bank."

"Yes? What do you want?"

"Oh," here Olaf heard distinct awkwardness from the man. "I'm sorry to bother you sir, it's just... the children were here earlier and... I was wondering if everything was alright."

"They WHAT?!" Olaf spat.

"It's alright though. I'm sure, since you're there, you can put them at ease. Good day."

Olaf stared at the reciever in his hand for a long moment before slowly hanging up the phone.

'So, those brats need to feel at ease? Part of the family?' he smirked, his eyes glazed as he thought of things to come. 'Well, why don't we have a... little celebration in their honour.'

So crappy and short, but here nonetheless. HURRAH!

Careening through clusterfucks of shit EVERYWHERE;

Nanaki Everblaze