Title: A Rush of Blood to the Head

Summary: A version to why Lemony Snicket is on the run. Songfic of Coldplay's 'A Rush of Blood to the Head'.

Disclaimer: Sunny-lingo: "Copyright," which here might mean, "No, this is not MlynnBloom's, and if she said otherwise, she might be dealing with Mr. Poe at the bank for being sued."

A/N: Bear with me on the length... it eventually gets to somewhere, hehe. Sorry if the italicized words give you headaches!

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"Three may keep a secret if two of them are dead."

-Poor Richard's Almanac

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The sound of the bubbling creek became louder as he walked down the pebbled dirt road. How sad it sounded, the man thought, concentrating on his footsteps. Just his footsteps.

Only until he came to the start of the bridge did he look up. He tried to ignore the dark sky overhead. The wisps of smoke escaping from the mills looked insignificant against the black billows of smoke that stained the sky.

It was the work of an arsonist.

The smooth waters of the stream ran through the park before the ugly strip of the city; there was only one other person on the grimy bridge over the creek. She heard him coming before he looked up to see her there. The look on her face was as stone-still and cold as the bridge she stood on.

"Beatrice," he started as he walked up the slope of the bridge and she did not make the slightest indication that she heard her name. She had a handful of yellow daises in her hand, the same flowers that could be seen scattered throughout the park. In the other was an umbrella even though there was not a cloud in the sky save for the smoke, but they would never bring rain.

Beatrice held a finger up to her lips and he stood close beside her. He could see no one else around, but it was better to be safe than to be overheard.

"It would be best to keep to our initials for now, L," Beatrice said quietly with a forced smile. Initials were only used in meetings, but Lemony Snicket nodded. They had to resort to initials now in public for the security of their identification.

"Pick them on your way?" He asked shortly and Beatrice twirled a daisy between her fingers before letting the shallow creek swallow it up. The mellow hue of the petals was like the color of lazy summers forgotten to them both.

"L... we can't talk lightly now," she said bluntly and looked up to the smoke past the imposing gray buildings. "Jacques told me it was too late to be saved when he arrived with the rest. We have to let it burn, just like the other fires of late," she said and he knew what she was thinking. The V.F.D. was splitting, and Lemony knew why. He had known for years and today he was so close to proving it... but everything had gone horribly wrong.

He said I'm gonna buy this place and burn it down

I'm gonna put it six feet underground

He said "I'm gonna buy this place and watch it fall

Stand here beside me baby in the crumbling walls

"Everywhere there are these fires we can't stop..." Beatrice said with her eyes fixed on the muddy brook side. She wasn't even sure if she even said that aloud. She watched another daisy twirl down to the smoky creek that reflected the sky.

Lemony rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes. There was nowhere to look without seeing smoke. Lemony closed his eyes...

.     .     .

He was walking fast down the road, checking his pocket watch every few minutes. He turned his collar up and tipped his hat down low as he passed a popular café. He couldn't be stopped for trivial conversations. He had an appointment with Olaf.

The deserted factory came into view. He looked down to his palm where he had scribbled the number 526. The crooked numbers on the corroded factory read 526. This was the place.

He walked past the side of the factory down a grimy alleyway. He passed by a group of children playing "Cops and Robbers", shooting themselves with invisible guns and running with invisible stolen goods. One boy pretended to shoot Lemony and he gave a small smile. They were only innocent until they grew up and got hold of real guns.

Lemony came to the large red door on the side of the mill and turned the door handle. It slid open soundlessly and he stepped inside. The entire building was of crumbling brick and the roof was strewn with dusty cobwebs. It was deserted and Lemony walked to the center of the empty room with echoing footsteps.

Obviously Olaf was late, or at least out of view. Lemony stood there checking his watch and finally took out a cigarette and set it between his teeth. He lit it and drew in a deep breath. He knew he had to stop the habit, Beatrice had been begging him to stop. He flipped the lid on his lighter a few times and took in another breath. He made a mental promise to quit after this last one.

He smoked it down to a stub before taking in one final puff. He was about to flick the cigarette butt behind him but a voice spoke.

"I wouldn't drop that quite yet," it said and Lemony turned around casually. There was Olaf with a hat on his own head, covering his unibrow. He stood confidently with his hands in his pockets and a sly smile on his lips as if he knew a secret.

"I've been waiting," Lemony said still holding onto the cigarette.

"Yes, I know and I know why you wanted to meet here with me."

"Go on then. You might be right."

"Don't smirk at me with that tongue," Olaf spat, "Just because you're engaged to one of the strongest members of the V.F.D doesn't make you one." Lemony's cool confidence melted away as insides burned when he said this.

"I know why I'm here," Olaf continued, "Don't think I haven't noticed you watching me for years to see where I'm off to. Every word you speak to me is slicked with suspected insinuations because you think I'm branching off. You think I'm causing the fires. Yes, I believe I do know why I'm here, Lemony Snicket." Olaf ended with a nasty grin, his eyes on fire.

"Luckily for you I didn't bring my troupe. I kept to my word and came alone. Lucky for me, however, I'm one step ahead of you this time. Don't take me as an idiot, Lemony. I know you've been recording our conversation from the start."

The tape recorder felt heavier in Lemony's coat pocket as Olaf said this. He couldn't pretend he didn't have it; it would have been foolish, so he took it out slowly

"Here. It's gone," Lemony said and tossed it across the room, but Lemony's brain froze. Instead of crashing down on the hard cement floor, it slid as if the floor was slick with... something. Lemony looked down all around him; the border of the large room floor was doused with oil.

Oh I'm gonna buy this place and start a fire

Stand here until I fill all your heart's desires

Because I'm gonna buy this place and see it burn

Do back the things it did to you in return

He said I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war

If you can tell me something worth fighting for

Oh and I'm gonna buy this place that's what I said

Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head

Lemony was woken from his daze and turned around as he heard the bridge creak under him, but Beatrice grabbed his shoulder. She covered the both of them with her umbrella and the passer-by walked nonchalantly over the bridge as they kept their heads low. She was still clutching his sleeve even after the sound of the footsteps disappeared.

Honey

All the movements you're starting to make

See me crumble and fall on my face

And I know the mistakes that I made

See it all disappear without a trace.

And they call as they beckon you on

They said start as you mean to go on

Start as you mean to go on

Beatrice finally let go, the crushed daisies that she held in her hand as she gripped Lemony's arm were lying limply in her hand. He looked over to her face, which was always so poised and strong, but he saw tears in her eyes she was trying so hard to fight back. The way she looked at the fire killed him inside. She couldn't understand why anyone would do such a thing; it was written on her face. He didn't know what to do once she found out...

The events of the horrible day played back again in his head like a film as he watched her drop down another dying flower.

.     .     .

"It's good you took my advice... it would have been horrible if you threw your cigarette," Olaf grinned and took out his own lighter, flicking it on and off wickedly. "Now we can talk business."

Lemony said nothing. He couldn't believe he didn't realize the lighter fluid on the floor earlier.

"I did start the fires. Every one. If you haven't noticed yet, I'm an expert at silencing people to the grave, so spilling our conversation to the V.F.D. would not be wise."

"And why not?" Lemony retorted. His confidence was slowly coming back but he still kept a wary eye on Olaf's lighter. "Why not inform the forces? You've killed so many people that I wouldn't be a great loss--- I'm prepared to die if it will finally get the truth out about you."

"Oh, how heroic of you, Lemony," Olaf taunted, "But you don't see the whole picture yet, do you? See, I already know your life isn't worth much of anything, so killing you wouldn't cause too much fuss. Now... killing someone of great important will get me somewhere, someone like, let's say, your beloved Beatrice."

He said "I'm gonna buy this place and see it go

Stand here beside my baby, watch the orange glow

Some will laugh and some just sit and cry

But you just sit down there and you wonder why

"No!" A shout escaped Lemony and Olaf laughed.

"Ah! Looks like I struck a tender chord in Snicket's heart!" Olaf cackled. His eyes flickered over to the door and he grinned. "Go. Go warn the V.F.D. or your precious Beatrice. No one believes you and nobody has for years. You're exactly like Jacques and Kit... you catch on early and solve all the 'little' mysteries, but you can't convince others like I can.

"But," Olaf continued, "let's say you actually did convince someone--- convinced them to think that I was the enemy. What would you do? You wouldn't hurt me. You wouldn't hurt me now even if I described the ways I plan to murder Beatrice. You're weak and alone... and without proof."

Olaf flipped open his lighter and Lemony dived towards the tape recorder. He had kept it on record and there was still a chance that he could get it. Then everything Olaf had said would be revealed... He reached for the tape.

Olaf threw his lighter in the middle of the trail of oil and with a crackling whoosh! the tape recorder was lost in the flames. Lemony jumped away and cursed. His hand was burning as if it was on fire, and then he was whipped around on his back.

Two hands were clasping his throat and in the smoke Lemony could see Olaf over him, smirking like a lunatic. The building was collapsing fast in the flames and the smoke was burning his eyes. Lemony frantically tried to pry his fingers off of him but his hands were in a deadlock. Wooden panels from the ceiling were falling and one fell dangerously close to the both of them. This was his chance. Lemony grabbed one of the fiery boards and swung it directly towards Olaf's head.

So I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war

If you can tell me something worth fighting for

And I'm gonna buy this place that's what I said

Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head

Oh to the head

Olaf yelped and fell back and Lemony pushed himself up. He gasped for air but all he could breathe was smoke. He steadied himself as the room spun... he had to find the door out. He staggered but found himself in front of Olaf who had recover from the blow.

"Fighting fire with fire now, are we? It's about time you caught on," he growled with a hand over his bleeding scalp. He was walking towards him threateningly.

"If everyone fought fire with fire, the whole world would go up in smoke," Lemony choked.

"By the looks of it, it already has," Olaf sneered.

The smoke became denser and a window shattered behind Lemony. He turned around and below the broken window was the large, red door he had come from. He ran faster than he ever had before. Olaf only stood there laughing.

The first breath of fresh air he took in was like water to a thirsty man. Hastily he reached into his pocket and took out a handful of slender, green tubes. He threw them through the broken window and within seconds a green smoke was mingled within the black clouds. The V.F.D. would be there soon.

He ran fast out of the alleyway and covered his head as windows exploded above him. He ran away from the building, ran away from the street, ran away without looking back. The children who had been playing "Cops and Robbers" earlier stood back within a mob of people and stared at the burning factory as Lemony ran out. They ran as well. This was their chance to actually report a crook to the police.

.     .     .

And this was where he had ended up... on a bridge with Beatrice when he should have been hiding from the police. He wondered why he was standing here out in the open but deep inside he knew that even if he did run he would get caught in the end. This was Olaf's plan all along and Lemony felt as if the world was falling apart under him. Olaf knew someone would see him running out and report him for arson. Olaf had gotten what Lemony needed. Proof.

But Olaf would not get everything. He would not let him get Beatrice. She was everything to him. There was only one way he could prevent this from happening, and it was to get her to believe him finally for the first time in fifteen years.

Beatrice leaned up against him and squeezed his arm. "We can't waste the day away like this," she said and gave a small smile, "I'll be late to my engagement. I'll see you later, dear."

"Wait, B," Lemony said as she pulled away. "I need to tell you something---now." Beatrice glanced at her watch anxiously but stood in place.

Honey

All the movements you're starting to make

See me crumble and fall on my face

And I know the mistakes that I made

See it all disappear without a trace.

And they call as they beckon you on

They said start as you mean to go on

As you mean to go on, as you mean to go on

"Listen, please. You must believe me this time, B. That fire on 526 Lousy Lane... it was Olaf. B, wait!" Lemony cried as Beatrice turned to leave and she turned around impatiently.

"Don't do this again, L! Every time there's a fire, you blame it on O!" Beatrice retorted.

"That's because it is! Believe me, B, you must! He confessed to his all his crimes to me... he's the reason the V.F.D. is breaking apart!"

"Why do you blame him so? Is it because you're jealous?"

Lemony was taken aback. "Jealous?"

"Yes, L. I spend so much time on stage with him that I think the only reason you dislike him is because you're envious of him--- and you shouldn't be! He's just my acting coach and I love only you!"

"B, the reason I distrust him is because I know he's thief, an arsonist, and a murderer!"

Beatrice stood in front of Lemony and spoke in a trembling voice, "L, how can you tell me to go against O--- against anyone in the V.F.D. for that matter? We all grew up together. We all became volunteers. We all have the same tattoo on our ankles. We're exactly the same. I would trust O or anyone else in the V.F.D. with my life." She stepped away and opened her umbrella back up, "I need to go... I'm meeting Esmé for tea in an hour."

"B!" Lemony called but she didn't turn around. "Beatrice, love, please! Can't you see that people change?"

She stopped and Lemony walked over to her. Her head was bowed under her umbrella and when she looked him in the face, her cheeks were strewn with tears.

"Yes, I can." She lifted her hand and twisted her engagement ring on her finger. "Perhaps...perhaps getting married was wrong, at least for now. I don't know who to trust because---because O has been telling me the same things... only about you."

"What?" Lemony felt as if he was back in the factory, choking on smoke as it stung his eyes. Olaf was destroying him... "But, B, you can't take his word over mine! I love you, I wouldn't lie to you!"

"I'm not taking anyone's word, but who can I trust? There's soot on your back shoulder and you smell of fire smoke. I don't want to believe it, L, I don't, but the truth will come out in time!" Beatrice sobbed.

"But it'll be too late."

A fire engine's alarm sounded in the distance and Beatrice lifted her face. "I'm going to be late to Esm's. Goodbye, Lemony," she wept quietly and kissed his lips. Then she turned and left and somehow Lemony felt as if the both of them were already standing in their own graves.

So meet me by the bridge,

Oh meet me by the lane

When am I going to see

That pretty face again?

Meet me on the road

Meet me where I said

Blame it all upon

A rush of blood to the head

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