Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If one finds a radio in someone’s possession—although snooping around someone’s belongings is not encouraged, unless they are in dire circumstances, such as being trapped in a building on fire and surrounded by enemies, so they may steal someone’s abandoned walker talkie to contact the official fire department, since the volunteer fire department are proved to be unable to help—they may make the assumption that the person is old-fashioned, can not afford to purchase a television or may simply prefer to use a radio. However, one may fail to realise why some people choose to use radios—more often than not, they are extremely useful for transmitting coded messages that are not susceptible (a word which here means “likely to be intercepted by enemies”) to being intercepted by enemies (with the exception of movies, directed by a certain volunteer, but that is, unfortunately, no longer an option). And this was the reason why Lemony Snicket sat in his office, with various notes on abandoned cases scattered everywhere, and turned the radio on, hoping to receive a coded message from his associate R.

To his surprise, the first sound that came out was not the ringing of a bell, as he had expected, but the hoots and hollers of a crowd. I must have turned the wrong channel on, he thought.

“And the winner of this season’s Child Chef is......”

Oh. Just another reality show. He was about to switch back to the Voracious Film Discussions channel, but what he heard next made him stop.

“Leyna Bur Saundie!! Congratulations!”

Leyna Bur Saundie.

Sunny Baudelaire.

Could it be? No… Yet, it had to be. It’s rather rare to find a person whose name is an anagram consisting of fifteen letters, especially if said person turns out to be someone he had been attempting to search for all these years.

“Thank you, everyone! I can’t believe this has really happened and it’s not just a dream… I sometimes have to pinch myself several times just to make sure!” There were also some sniffles in the background, which Lemony assumed was her crying.

“You all have no idea how much this means to me. My early childhood experience was not a very pleasant one, and when I look back and see how much times have changed I can’t help but…” She was interrupted by her own surge of tears, and Lemony couldn’t help but sympathise with her. To realise how she experienced such a turn in her series of unfortunate events was truly an emotional moment.

After the show ended, Lemony turned the radio off, having completely forgotten about his original assignment.

Research. That was now the top priority on his agenda. As for other VFD-related missions, those would have to wait.

Chapter Text

Several days later, as Lemony Snicket headed off the crowded street to the bookstore to retrieve the coded message he failed to receive from R (she was rather angry at him for that, despite his many apologies and explanations), a newspaper boy waved around a handful of newspapers. He normally ignored them, as the Daily Punctilio, of course, was never reputed to publish accurate information, but what caught his eye made him stop and take a newspaper from the boy’s hands. Once he returned to his office from his errand, he sat down and started to read the paper.

THE DAILY PUNCTILIO
AN INTERVIEW WITH THE WINNER OF CHILD CHEF
Last week, 13 year old Leyna Bur Saundie won Child Chef, Season 4, hugely impressing the judges with her excellent craft. As the winner of the show, she will receive the Child Chef trophy and $100,000. Yesterday we were fortunate enough to be able to meet and interview the amazing cooking prodigy.

Hi Leyna, thanks for inviting us for this interview! I’m incredibly honoured to meet you.
It’s a pleasure.

What inspired you to start cooking?
Oh, I really don’t know. I think I started showing interest in cooking around when I was still a toddler, and people enjoyed my creations, so I continued to do it.

What is your favourite part about cooking?
Being able to know how much people enjoy the food I make for them, especially when I see the smiles on their faces.

What is your favourite food?
Wow, I like a lot of foods! Maybe lasagne and ice cream? Not together, though.

And your least favourite?
Gum, coconut cordial, and most definitely mushrooms. My initial experience with it was traumatising. It’s not an exaggeration.

Which celebrity chef do you look up to?
Gordon Ramsay, of course!

What advice would you give to any future chefs?
The only things you will ever require are passion, practice and perseverance. And of course, a whisk.

What does the future hold for you, Leyna?
I’ll attend culinary school when the time comes, and I’m very firmly definite that I’ll open a restaurant of my own one day!

Yes, it was undoubtedly Sunny Baudelaire. Who else would despise mushrooms so much if it weren’t for the Medusoid Mycelium from the Gregorian Grotto?

The Daily Punctilio... maybe for once, it was printing helpful information that wasn’t rubbish. And it was surely because the Head Reporter was recently replaced - thank god, because Lemony couldn’t stand the dreadful Eleanora Poe.

———

It was a busy day at the office of the Daily Punctilio. People were scampering around, rogue pieces of scrap paper were flying everywhere, but thankfully the loudest noise she could hear was the furious, frantic typing on typewriters, which left her satisfied.

“Miss, you have an appointment at 2pm.” Her secretary stepped into her office and reminded her.

“Thank you, Jacquelyn.” She replied, and Jacquelyn left.

She sighed. She loved her job, but it was always this busy everyday. Sometimes she did wish she could take a break occasionally.

Just as she was daydreaming about a vacation to the Maldives, the telephone rang. Irritated that she was so abruptly interrupted, she hastily picked up the receiver.

“Hello? This is Moxie Mallahan from the Daily Punctilio. How may I help you?”

She never would have anticipated the reply. Realising someone who you once thought dead is actually alive is something I hope you, dear reader, will never have to experience. One never fully recovers from the extreme element of surprise.

“What’s the news, Moxie?”

She nearly fell off her seat.

Chapter Text

As Beatrice Baudelaire walked across the lawn to the house around the corner, she paused to look at the view. How could she be sure this was where Sunny lived? She still had her doubts, despite being told by Moxie over a meeting with root beer floats that this was definitely the right place. It was a small, white house with a few windows, and the front yard was adorned with flowers of various colours, and a large vegetable patch, no doubt used for her cooking.

She swallowed hard in an attempt to repress the growing lump in her throat, and blinked several times. It had all come to this. This was it. But if she was so eager to meet her, why was she feeling so uncertain?

She couldn’t help but wonder why it had taken so long to find her… it had been nearly eleven years. What if Sunny no longer recognised her? It had been an inordinate amount of time since they had seen each other. What if she didn’t want to see her? What if…

Beatrice felt a heavy hand rest on her shoulder, and as she looked back her gaze fell upon the brooding figure of Lemony Snicket.

“It’s alright.” He reassured his niece. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she's missed you a lot too.”

Beatrice nodded hesitantly, and moved forward. Slowly but surely she brought her hand up to the doorbell, and pressed.

After the sound of rushed footsteps, the door opened and the scent of delicious hazelnut cookies immediately came to their noses, revealing a teenage girl with short light brown, curly hair, a round face, bright blue eyes, wearing an oven mitt in one hand and clutching another in her other hand. Once she caught sight of Beatrice her mouth gaped open and she dropped her oven mitt.

“Beatrice.” It was almost a whisper. She desperately hoped her eyes weren’t deceiving her, and the day she had wished for so long had finally come.

“Sunny.” Beatrice couldn’t believe it was true either. But slowly, her mouth twisted upwards into a hopeful smile.

They ran to each other’s arms and sobbed.

---

After a while, Lemony and Beatrice were welcomed into the house, and Sunny presented them with a platter of warm hazelnut cookies. As they sat down, Sunny asked suspiciously, “Sorry sir, but who are you?”

“My apologies, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Lemony Snicket, Beatrice’s uncle.”

“The third Snicket sibling! I’m glad to finally be able to meet you. And you’re the author of A Series of Unfortunate Events too, aren’t you?”

Lemony coughed, and his cheeks flushed a little. “As a matter of fact, yes. You must understand that it was required of me to do that, from a vow I made to your mother.”

Sunny nodded slowly. She paused for a while, opened her mouth, and closed it again.

"Don't worry, you can ask me what you were thinking to ask." Lemony said softly.

"How did you know I was going to ask you a question?" Sunny asked, surprised.

Lemony laughed. "You made the same face your mother did whenever she wanted to ask a question too. You both scrunch your eyebrows and pause for a while."

Sunny finally asked, “Can you tell us about my mother from the days of VFD training?”

“Oh, she was beautiful. And extremely intelligent too. Once school ended we would usually go to the nearest café for root beer floats, our favourite, and just talk. Sometimes about our current missions and complaints about chaperones and sometimes just talk about plans for the distant future. I felt like I could do it forever… those were fortunate times.” Lemony was blushing, which was a rare sight, but he didn’t seem to mind reminiscing his past with his deceased lover. Thankfully, Beatrice changed the subject quickly.

“Sunny, how did you manage to buy and live in this house all on your own?”

“Well, when I first arrived at Briny Beach it was actually Justice Strauss who found me, and brought me to her house where I lived for a couple of years. But one day she disappeared, and I knew the reporters and police would soon raid her house so I packed a few belongings, some money and left. I worked as an assistant chef at a local eatery which provided accommodation, and eventually I saved enough money to purchase my own home. I invented some recipes of my own, and appeared on some talk shows. A few months ago there was an advertisement on the Daily Punctilio calling for young cooks to participate in a reality cooking show, so I auditioned and went on the show. I figured if I was going to search for my siblings, maybe I should make myself public so they could search for me instead, which is how I’m guessing you found me.”

Lemony was, quite frankly, dumbfounded, a word which here means “extremely surprised to hear the story of how Sunny Baudelaire survived to this day.” He knew exactly how resourceful and clever the Baudelaires were, but he was still surprised by how well the young Baudelaire had coped with her misfortunes and found better luck along the way.

They spent the next few hours talking, filling in information for each other. Seeing how content the two Baudelaires were in each other’s company, Lemony smiled weakly for the first time in many years. Beatrice, he thought, maybe I’m not such a failure. I might be able to keep my promise to you after all. One day, I will find Violet and Klaus and the Quagmires, and I’ll find them, even if it’s the last thing I do.