Um...I decided to write a one shot. Yes. **nods** and it was supposed to be a songfic, but it was too long and I ran out of song. So...read it? It's kind of one sided Violet/Quigley. Oh, yes, by the way—the first week in April, I think that week, is WEIRD SHIPS WEEK! Start writing weird ships, okay, and post them? We need something more exotic than boring old Quagmire/Baudelaire, okay? Violaf doesn't count...no offense if you're a Violaf writer, how about something we haven't seen yet? Points to the most original ship...

            The snow scouts were boring. Really boring. Maybe if he'd made an effort to join the conversation going on with the people he was sharing a tent with, Quigley wouldn't have been so cynical, but the last thing he wanted to do was talk with those stupid people.

            He reached into his pocket. It was still there. Good. The girl's hair ribbon he'd found, he wasn't sure where—somewhere along the way following the Baudelaires, was sort of a lucky charm now. Of course, he couldn't be a hundred percent sure it was hers, but there was a big chance. He ran his finger over it. It felt satiny.

            When he thought about it, there was nothing Quigley could a be a hundred percent sure of anymore. He couldn't be a hundred percent sure that he would run into Duncan and Isadora if he followed the stupid snow scouts on their idiotic camping trip. He couldn't be a hundred percent sure that Violet Baudelaire was the girl he thought she was, no, the girl he'd gathered she was, from following the Baudelaires everywhere, almost like a stalker, except not on purpose, not like that...

            Maybe she was ugly. Maybe she just was having a...what had his sister called it?...a good hair day in the picture Jacques Snicket had shown him. She had looked really pretty in the picture, though. He wished he had a copy of it...Okay, now he was acting stalker-y.

            Quigley sighed and leaned back against the wall. It was time to go to sleep. All the other dumb campers were squeezing into their stupid sleeping bags. He hugged his knees and tried not to think about Duncan and Isadora. They were together, he was pretty sure. He was the odd one out. He was the one who'd been left behind and forgotten. When Duncan and Isadora's paths had crossed with the Baudelaires, had they suspected Quigley was following them? When they looked out the window of their classrooms in Prufrock Prep, had they sensed that , in a few weeks, their brother would be craning his neck to peer into those windows?

            Hugging his backpack, Quigley tried to concentrate on other things, but he just couldn't help it. In movies and stuff, people who were born at the same time could, like, talk to each other mentally or whatever. Telekinesis...or maybe it was psychotherapy? Some long word, anyway... (A/N: Telepathy.) Before, when they'd all been together, they'd laughed at movies like that and called them stupid. It was easy to laugh at things when you were laughing with somebody...but he was alone now. He would give anything just to know where they were, if they were safe, what they were thinking. Did they even know he was alive yet?

            Quigley squeezed his eyes shut. He had to sleep, anyway.

            Of course, he never got much sleep...

            The next day, Quigley was sleepy, like he'd predicted. He was enduring another stupid snow scout meeting when two people entered the room. They were wearing masks against the snow gnats, but he could tell from their walk that it was a boy and girl.

            His heart soared. The girl started talking. It wasn't Isadora's voice. Quigley felt a little ache...but wait? What was she saying? Something to do with V.F.D...Maybe they were here to rescue him! He waved. The people glanced at him, and he felt like a dork. Nobody would rescue you, he told himself cynically, even your brother and sister think you're dead.

            The girl walked over and sat down next to him. She looked curiously at his sweater. Oh, yeah. He was wearing the gross wool sweater, still. Isadora, Duncan, and Quigley had gotten them for their birthday, made by some great-aunt or whatever. They had hated them. Matching? Ugh! But now...maybe Isadora and Duncan were wearing theirs...           

            "I don't want to be rude," said the girl softly, leaning closer so he could hear her, "but do you by any chance know Duncan Quagmire?"

            Quigley's heart pounded so hard he thought it would burst through the thick wool sweater. "Isadora?" he whispered hoarsely. So maybe she had laryngitis that was making her voice a little lower and more lilting. If it was her...

            The girl shook her head. "No, my name is Violet Baudelaire." It was her! His crush from far away...but not Isadora. He was disappointed and interested. "I knew the Quagmire triplets, though..." She sounded wistful.

            Wait. Knew? "Are they...I mean...you knew them?" His voice raised several levels of pitch. No. They couldn't be. That sort of thing wouldn't happen to Duncan and Isadora...

            "They're safe, I mean," said Violet. "Up in the Self Sustaining Hot Air Mobile home one of our friends made...I mean, they're safe, but..." She sighed. "But far away." She turned to the boy sitting next to her, who looked deep in thought, through his mask. "Hey, Klaus," she said softly. "This guy knows the Quagmires."

            "Do you?" The other boy sounded interested. "How's Isadora? Is she safe?" Was he her boyfriend? Oh, gross. Isadora had a boyfriend...but soon Quigley's semi-revulsion was replaced by the same ache he felt every day. Isadora had a boyfriend...Quigley didn't know...

            "He didn't know about the balloon, Klaus," said Violet, sounded exasperated. She looked at him again. "You really know the Quagmire triplets?" Quigley smiled behind his mask. Did he ever.

            "They still call themselves triplets?" He tried not to sound like he was going to cry. Right. Meet your crush, and then act all girly in front of her. Not something he was about to do.

            Violet sighed. "Yeah. Their house burned down...and their brother, Quigley..." she winced. "Yeah, they do. How long have you known them?"

            Oh, we met just about nine months before birth. No, better not to say. They thought he was dead. They thought he was dead...Quigley shivered. He missed them.

            But if the Baudelaires knew his siblings so much...maybe he could trust them. Maybe, with the help of the Baudelaires, Quigley could go straight to the V.F.D. headquarters. Isadora and Duncan would be there, he was sure of it. If they were in some kind of balloon thing...well, that was probably where they were headed. And then they could meet and all be together again. He couldn't wait!

            Violet was still talking. Sort of rambling, actually. "...And I mean, Duncan and Isadora both had sweaters like that. So I just sort of thought you might know them...I don't know. I mean, it's been such a long time..." she sighed. "So, I thought 'maybe it's Duncan.' But if it wasn't , it would be so embarrassing to go 'hi Duncan,' and have some strangers go 'huh, what?'" She took a  deep breath. "So I asked if you knew them," she smiled apologetically. "I didn't think you would, really..."

            Quigley nodded. He unzipped his backpack. "Oh, yeah, I know them." He took out his notebook and passed it to Klaus, who stared at it curiously. "Here, let me show you something." He leafed through it until he found the map he was looking for. "Have you ever heard of V.F.D.?"

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            "It should be right here," Quigley said proudly, pushing open the door. "I'm sure that they'll be here."

            "Who?" said Klaus curiously.

            And then they all stopped.

            It was gone. Burned. Everything was burned not, his home, the Baudelaires' home, and now this. He had been so sure...Quigley couldn't believe it. He was practically in shock.  

            Violet put her hand on his shoulder. He turned around. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Then she brightened. "Well, we can finally take off these stupid masks!"

            She lifted hers off. She was pretty, he noticed, feeling an odd sensation in his stomach. Very pretty. Klaus pulled off his mask. Quigley couldn't help smiling. If Isadora had a boyfriend, it would certainly look like Klaus Baudelaire.

            "You can take your's off now...what's your name again?" said Violet.

            He pulled the mask off. "Quigley. My name's Quigley."

            Violet gasped. "Oh my god!"

            He shrugged. "Yeah. I was looking for my brother and sister..."

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            Quigley slid into a place on the slope beside Violet, who was fiddling with her hair ribbon. He slid his hand into his pocket and held out the ribbon he had found. "Is this your's?"

            Violet blinked at him. "Why, yes, actually. I dropped it somewhere along the way....thank you. Thanks, Quigley..." He cringed, very slightly. "What?" Then, as if she'd read his mind, "you don't like your name?" He nodded. "Why? It's so... memorable. My name is boring and banal. You could forget it in about a second, after meeting me."

            "No, that's not true, Lavender." He tried to make a joke. Didn't girls like it when boys joked? Violet smiled, and then, to his relief, started laughing. She edged closer to him, until their faces were almost touching. Violet stopped laughing and looked at him seriously.

            The air between them trembled. He could tell they were about to kiss.

            Then Violet ruined it.

            "Violet..." he whispered.

            She inched her face closer and sighed. "Duncan..."

            It was too late to stop the kiss, but as her face drew closer, like in slow motion, Quigley could see Violet realize her mistake. Her eyes widened.

            They still kissed for a long time. Violet, Quigley decided, was trying to lengthen the amount of time before she had to face him, and talk.

            Finally, they had to stop for breath. Violet was blushing as she pulled away. "You're...uh, a good, um, kisser..." she said, sounding unsure of herself.

            Quigley wasn't sure what to do. He liked her, of course, but...Did she like him? "As good as Duncan?" he snapped sarcastically. Violet turned away, looking hurt. "Sorry..."

            She turned back, her face pale. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I really....sorry." She cringed at herself. "It's just...well, whenever Duncan and I were together, you were all he'd talk about. I feel like I know you. I mean, even though you're dead. Well, you're not dead...I felt like I knew you. I'd heard so much about you from Isadora and Duncan....I don't know." She looked at him, her face hopeful. He could tell what she was doing. She was trying to say see, I know you. It's fine for me to kiss you, I knew you before I met you.

            "Yeah. I mean, I was following you and your siblings for a while...so, I could figure out a lot about you. I knew you like inventing, and I found your hair ribbon, and..." Now it was Quigley's turn to prove he was honorable, not some sort of sick stalker.

            Violet smiled, relived. "So we know one another? I mean, we did for a long time before we...we..." She leaned forward again and they started kissing. A whole symphony of kisses, this time, that felt like it went on forever.

            Finally, Violet stood up. Quigley pressed his lips together. "I'm sorry..." murmured Violet again, sitting down next to him and resting her head on his shoulder. "It's just..." She turned her face up to look him in the eye, but shook her head when they were about to kiss again. "Somebody has to be...I don't know, be...be..."

            "Be good," said Quigley, sliding out from under her, making sure her head was leaning on the rock behind them.

            Violet smiled. "Exactly. I mean...Duncan's, like...he's gone...but...I really cared about him." She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them, almost curling into a ball. "I just can't go through with this."

            Quigley stood up. "Right." He wasn't sure if he was mad at her or at himself, or at Duncan, or if he was just sad...It was confusing. "Let's go get Sunny, then."

            Violet didn't move. "I mean...like, I didn't know you, know you, and I didn't think I...I didn't really, like, I couldn't tell, exactly, if I would have...done this sort of thing with you...if I hadn't...If I didn't..." She looked away from him. "If I didn't like Duncan."

            "You still like him?" Quigley wished it hadn't come out so incredulously. "Violet...he's...I—I mean, you—you'll never see him again."

            Violet sprang up and finally looked him in the eye. Her eyes, he noticed with guilt, were shining with tears. " I know that! You think I don't know that?! You think I never think about it?!"

            He reached out and held her hand. "That's not what I meant, Violet...."

            She shook his hand away, hugging herself. "I'm sorry," she said finally, her voice choked.

            "Okay." Quigley felt stupid. "It's okay." He sighed. "I, uh, I miss Duncan and Isadora, too, remember? I've known them, uh, forever, really..." He swallowed. "But it's, uh, it's okay...if you don't want to...to, uh, get involved in anything."

            That was a lie. Nothing could be less 'okay.' He just wanted her to like him. Forget about Duncan. He wanted to hug her and touch her hair and have her be happy with him...but she couldn't be happy with him, so...

            Violet grinned at him shakily. "You mean it?"

            "Of course. You don't have to anything until we see Duncan and Isadora again."

            "You think they'll come back?" She was beaming at him.

            "Oh, yeah!" Quigley forced a smile. Violet smiled, and then she actually reached out and hugged him. "Definitely."

            "Thanks." Violet looked into his face, her gaze lingering for an extra second and making him stupidly hopeful. "Okay." She pulled away. "Enough of this. Let's go get Sunny!" The girl was practically drooling. Quigley had never seen somebody look so relived and happy.

            "Okay." Another forced smile.

            "It really doesn't matter?" Violet wanted more confirmation.

            "No."

            "No, it doesn't? Okay, let's go then!" He watched her start climbing again.

            Was lying bad if it was used for a good purpose? Would they ever see his siblings again? Did Violet really like Duncan that much?

            Did Quigley really like Violet that much?

            Maybe, he decided, was a good answer for the first question. Same for the second one, actually, if you wanted to get all glass-half-full. For the third question...probably yes, unfortunately. And the fourth one? Certainly a yes.

            "Quigley?" Violet looked behind her. "Are you okay? Do you want to rest longer?"

            Quigley took a deep breath and started following her. "I'm fine." There was big lie, for sure.

            He had to keep moving, anyway.

            Maybe they'd find Isadora and Duncan.

            Maybe Violet would change her mind, although he was pretty sure that wasn't going to happen.

            Maybe Quigley could change his mind. After all, despite the things they'd told themselves, they didn't know each other very well at all.

            And there were a lot of girls out there who hadn't pledged to like another guy for ever and ever...

            "Let's go," urged Violet. "There's a lot ahead of us."

            That wasn't a lie, at all...

Wow. Okay, I had no idea that was going to be so long...I just had to force myself to stop. A five-page one shot...oops? Hope you enjoyed it, despite it length.

Review? Please? Yay! Reviews!

All the people in this story are copyright © Lemony Snicket...Daniel Handler...HarperCollins...Nickelodeon...uh...copyright somebody who isn't me. Yeah, that's about right. **satisfied** Okay. You read disclaimers. You're weird. Ha ha ha! You are an idiot! You read stupid disclaimers...wait. I write stupid disclaimers. So I'm a weird idiot.... eh, I'm confused. Review, review, review, and, oh yeah, by the way, did I mention review?