[Klaus Baudelaire x OC]
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The story of the Baudelaire orphans seems to be told completely true by Lemony Snicket, but he left out one key detail: Me. Hello, my name is Lily Angof, and I will be telling you about the true story of the Baudelaire orph...
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"JUSTICE STRAUSS, MAY WE ask a favor of you?" The three oldest of us stood before our neighbor in her beautiful garden, Klaus clutching the recipe book in his hands.
"Of course! Ask away." She stood up from her spot planting flowers and brushed the dirt from her elaborate outfit.
"Well, we've found a recipe we'd like to make, but Count Olaf doesn't have any of the ingredients. If it isn't any trouble for you, would you mind telling us where the closet farmers' market is?" I asked.
Justice Strauss' face lit up. "It doesn't trouble me at all! In fact, I'll come with you to the market. I can't let you children wander around unsupervised."
"Count Olaf doesn't seem to have a problem with that," mumbled Klaus crossly.
I elbowed him in the side. "We shouldn't let her know." I paused. "Who knows what he might do to us."
Our eyes met for a moment, and we seemed to agree that this was too serious a situation to tell our happy-go-lucky neighbor about.
Reluctantly, Klaus nodded and turned his gaze back to Justice Strauss.
She beamed at us before turning on her heel and sweeping up Sunny from the floor where she sat tasting some hard, unknown vegetable.
"Come along children. No time to waste!"
•••
"Goodbye!" Justice Strauss shouted as the four of us entered the disaster that was Count Olaf's house.
We all waved goodbye and shut the door, but not before Justice Strauss got a good look inside and began to question the quality of the living conditions we were in.
We began to unload all of the groceries from the bag and set them upon the dirty countertop.
"Okay, now we need to clean up a bit, and then we can start cooking," said Violet.
So we did just that: Dusting the countertops, washing the dishes, and straightening the clutter. All to the soothing sounds of Sunny banging some pots together.
At last, the mess was cleared and we were ready to cook.
Klaus read from the book and handed us the ingredients while Violet and I cooked the meal.
It was almost therapeutic. Cooking seemed to make the four of us forget of our wretched situation in this wretched house with our wretched guardian.
Soon enough, the house was filled with the delicious scent of homemade pasta puttanesca.
Klaus moved from his spot at the countertop and joined us over by the stove.
"Wow. It looks really good," stated Klaus, admiring our work.
