Chapter Text
In the back seat of an old yellow taxi, Olivia Caliban contemplated the bizarre turn her life took that morning. On an impulse, she took the trolley from her home to The City to try to unravel the bizarre circumstances surrounding the Baudelaires and the Quagmires. She did not anticipate how deep the rabbit hole ran, however, as each new piece of information raised more questions than it answered. Even the no-nonsense discussion with Mr. Poe’s secretary, which should have been the most understandable event of the day, was tinged by a strange sense of deja vu that made Olivia’s head swirl.
Almost getting hit by the same taxi she now sat in was just par for the course after all the weirdness of the day. At least Jacques finally answered some of her questions, and if those answers pulled up new questions, he answered them too. They drove around The City for the rest of the day as Jacques pointed out areas of interest and explained the ins and outs of V.F.D.
“Do you have a place to stay?” Jacques asked after a stretch of silence. Olivia looked to the front and caught sight of how the setting sun turned her hair bright red in the rearview mirror. She shook her head.
“I don’t even have a change of clothes,” she groaned. “I didn’t really plan this out.”
“Happens to the best of us,” Jacques noted, “It might be a little late for a hotel, but I’ve got a foldout sofa at home.”
“A hotel would be prohibitively expensive, I think,” Olivia said. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”
Jacques nodded. They slipped back into silence, and Olivia turned to stare through the window. The City passed by in a blur, and quickly turned from tall grey office buildings to houses of every color. The taxi came to a stop in front of a rustic one story house, and Jacques cleared his throat.
“We’re here,” he said, then stepped out of the cab to open Olivia’s door.
“Thank you,” she said. He led the way up to his home and opened the door for her.
The living room was sparsely decorated, aside from a couch against the far wall and a bookshelf next to it. Olivia took one glance at the books and stopped in her tracks. She felt her blood run cold as she recognized one title after the other, all by the same author.
“Everything alright?” Jacques asked as he entered the room. Olivia nodded and quickly shifted her attention away from Jacques’ carefully curated collection of Bianca Livialo novels. Of course she had to run into someone who was such a fan of the books she wrote under the pseudonym. Just the icing on the cake of this very strange day.
As Jacques moved to unfold the futon, Olivia felt a surge of gratitude at her past self for coming up with the pen name. Not that she was ashamed of her work. In fact, she loved every story she’d ever published, but the thought of being recognized like some sort of celebrity made her skin crawl. She first created her secret identity to avoid being recognized by anyone involved with Prufrock Prep. After all, Vice Principal Nero would use any little thing as an excuse to fire her, and learning she wrote romance novels during school hours might have given him the motivation to do so. Later though, as she gathered a small financial safety net for herself, Olivia realized she enjoyed the mystery surrounding Bianca Livialo and resolved to keep it going for as long as possible.
Jacques being some kind of spy might complicate that.
Olivia helped him make the fold-out bed, then nodded toward the shelf. “Livialo fan?” She asked, and hoped she didn’t sound too terribly interested. He looked up and smiled, a little sheepishly.
“I love her writing,” he said with a shrug. “How about you?”
Olivia took off her blazer and draped it over the back of the couch to give herself some time to think of a response. “I’ve read all her books,” she said. Telling some amount of truth seemed like the best course of action.
“Which is your favorite?” He asked as he slid a pillow into a white pillowcase.
“They all have their merits, but if pressed, I suppose I’d say Sweethearts of Eternity.” The last book she published before leaving Prufrock, and of course, the one she most wanted to hear feedback about.
Jacques nodded. “She really handled that time travel well, didn’t she?”
Olivia beamed, pleased with the praise. They talked about her books until late into the night, and all the while Jacques didn’t seem to suspect a thing. The risk of recognition faded to the back of Olivia’s mind, right up until Jacques looked at his watch and realized it was half past midnight and time to turn in.
“See you tomorrow,” he said as he turned out the light. Olivia leaned back into her pillows and turned toward the bookshelf. Her old worries about being found out came back to her with a vengeance, and kept her awake for much longer than she wanted. When she finally did get to sleep, she only managed a few fitful hours before she woke up from a nightmare. Her colleagues at Prufrock had learned of her secret life as an author and mocked her mercilessly for it. Though the clock read 4:17 AM, Olivia could not go back to sleep. Instead, she stared at the ceiling and tried to sweep the remnants of the dream to the side.
The light in Jacques’ room turned on about an hour and forty-five minutes later. He took another fifteen minutes before he stepped out of his room, wearing an outfit similar to that of the day before.
“Good morning,” he said as he stepped out of his room, “sleep well?”
Olivia nodded. She stood and straightened her clothes from the day before, which got wrinkled overnight.
“How about you?” Olivia asked as Jacques walked into the kitchen. He pulled out a kettle and filled it with water before answering.
“Same old, same old,” he said. “Would you like some tea?”
“Earl Grey, if you have it.”
“Good choice.” He retrieved two mugs from his dishwasher and set them on the counter.
Olivia made her bed as Jacques waited for the water in the kettle to boil. She joined him in the kitchen and watched him pour the water over the teabags in the mugs.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” Olivia asked when Jacques handed her a mug.
“How does studying sound?” He nodded toward the bag holding The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations on the coffee table where Olivia placed it the night before.
“About VFD?” Olivia asked, lowering her voice a little when she said the organization’s name. “That sounds excellent.” She smiled brightly.
Jacques brought out several books in addition to The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations to help familiarize Olivia with the organization. They spent the rest of the day discussing the various intricacies within VFD. The hours passed quickly, and Olivia found herself enjoying her time learning, something she hadn’t felt in several years. That night, she slept well, even with the bookshelf looming over her.
The next morning passed similarly to the one before, only before they got too far into their study session, the wall mounted phone in the kitchen rang. Jacques shot up from the table to answer it. The call lasted maybe thirty seconds, then Jacques turned to Olivia.
“I just got a call from Jacquelyn about a lead.”
Olivia nodded without looking up from the book which had grabbed her attention earlier.
“Do you want to come along? Get some field experience?”
That drew Olivia’s gaze. She adjusted her glasses as she spoke. “Oh, thank you for the offer, Jacques, but it’s only my second day. I don’t know if I’m ready for a stakeout or scaling a building or any other kind of intense operation like that.”
“This would only be reconnaissance, but that’s a valid concern.”
“I’ll see you tonight?” Olivia asked, as she returned to her book.
“Absolutely.”
With that, Jacques grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter and left the house. Immediately, an uncomfortable silence pervaded the room. Though normally, Olivia was content with being alone, surrounded by books, she soon realized she had quickly grown used to the presence of another person. Even though they spent most of the previous day in silence, just having a friendly presence in the room was such a welcome change from her time at Prufrock. She looked around for something to fill the quiet, as the turning of pages just didn’t cut it.
As she scanned the connected kitchen and living room, Olivia noticed some things she’d missed in her first full day at Jacques’ house. A record player sat near a desk with a typewriter in the corner of the room. His record collection resided in its own shelving unit nearby, just as meticulously organized as his collection of Bianca Livialo books. Olivia looked through it and picked out a jazz vinyl. She delicately pulled it out of its sleeve and placed it on the turntable.
She returned to the books as the sounds of energetic trumpets swelled from the speakers. The noise made her feel slightly less alone, and she finished the book before she needed to flip the record.
Olivia resisted the urge to reshelve the books, as she still had questions about some of them for whenever Jacques came back. Instead, she stacked them neatly on the table, with the commonplace book she took notes in on top, and looked around for something else to do. The one advantage Prufrock had over any other situation, Olivia decided, was the near unlimited books on its shelves. And if she couldn’t find the exact novel she wanted to read at a given time, she could spend days and weeks and months writing it, with hardly an interruption. When she had the motivation.
She did not have the motivation today. Besides, the thought of using up Jacques’ typewriter ribbon rubbed Olivia the wrong way.
Just as Olivia was about to give up and take a nap in defeat, she heard something hit the front door. She rushed over and opened it in time to see a man on a bicycle ride away quickly. That day’s copy of The Daily Punctilio lay on the welcome mat. Olivia picked it up and returned to the table with the VFD books. She flipped to the “Upcoming Events” section and scanned through it. One ad in particular caught her eye. A book club, run by two women named Mary and Harriet Your-Waiter. Olivia smiled at their names, reminded of the High Court’s recent decision on marriage equality. She scanned the small print at the bottom of the ad and smiled wider when she saw the group met on Thursdays, which meant the next meeting was scheduled for the next day! Olivia tore the information out of the paper and carefully tucked it into her purse. Rather than return to the books alone, she flipped to the crossword puzzle and waited for Jacques to come back.