The Kremlin, Moscow 1962
The ornate halls of the seat of the USSR's government were silence, with the exception of the sound of a man with neat brown hair wearing a fairly basic looking suit walking quickly down the hall. He paid no mind to his surroundings and the posters which adorned them, intent purely on delivering the report which had just been compiled by two dignitaries who had just returned from America. The report contained information which was big, bigger than big in fact, and had to be delivered to the Premier effective immediately. The information inside it was set to change the Union's, no the entire Communist sphere's, approach and opinion of the American capitalist pigs.
Finally he reached the large oak door of the Premier's office, a hammer and sickle featured centrally in its design. The man briefly composed himself before opening the door and walking right into the office and walking right up to the leader of the Soviet Union's desk, depositing the papers in front of their esteemed leader.
"What is this?" asked the Premier in a distinctly Ukrainian accent as he looked up slowly from the book he'd been reading, the crest of the Soviet Union imprinted on the wall behind him.
"A report from two of our dignitaries who returned from America recently my Premier." said the man nervously, a distinct Russian accent to his voice as he backed away briefly to shut the office's door. "It was decided that you had to see the contents of this report immediately."
The Premier merely looked down at the report in disinterest, flipping through its pages in boredom until he neared the final pages of the report. That was when his expression turned to one of confusion, then surprise, then horror, then amusement, then back to horror.
"American Washington masters cutting off heads is nothing new, nor is burning the evidence but plants which can think, self-lighting cigars, a living hand which likes privacy, charging themselves up with electricity through ear, typical family servant being a robot and little boys making disintegrator rifles is new! Newer than new!" declared the Premier in a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "How did the Americans hide their genius from us so long? How did our spies miss all this?"
"I'm not sure Premier." replied the brown haired intelligence official, unsure of how to respond. "Maybe the Americans had just kept the real people out of sight?"
"Of course! They haven't been showing us the people! The real people!" declared the Premier as he stood up from his chair. "We must have these for ourselves. Whilst we have been focusing on space the Americans have been focusing on disintegrator guns and robots. Just think, the self-lighting cigars alone could be of great use. They'd given us even more leverage over Castro!"
"We already have a self-lighting cigar Premier. It was given to the dignitaries by the man of the household." said the Russian, nervousness gone from his voice now that he was in his element. "Our top scientists are already trying to find its secrets."
"Fantastic efficiency!" commented the Premier. "That's what we have over the Americans." He then began looking over the last few pages of the report once more before he muttered "Blowing up model trains…"
"No doubt that is training sir for the real thing Premier. Think first they're blowing up model trains, then they're blowing up real ones." said the Russian in reply hastily, intent to move the conversation on as he glanced over at a bust of Lenin. "And those trains could end up being our trains. The people's trains."
"You're right! And just think this is merely an average American household! They've must have hundreds if not thousands of sabators ready to be parachuted into our great Union!" said the Premier in mild panic.
"Well at least it isn't all bad Premier." commented the intelligence official, a small smirk coming onto his face. "Did you read the part about the hostess?"
"Of course I did. Pearly white skin, piercing blue eyes, silky long black hair, a form fitting black dress and a perfect face, body and personality to go with it. How could I miss that part." replied the Premier, a day dreaming look in his eyes. "Maybe us Soviets aren't the only ones with beautiful women…"
"What course of action should we take Premier?" asked the intelligence official after a few seconds, trying not to laugh at his leader's day dreamy look.
"Huh?" said the Premier in a bit of confusion before he coughed and quickly recomposed himself. "Ah of course. Umm well."
""Should I alert the Politburo?" asked the brown haired man.
"No!" shouted the Premier, startling the intelligence official. "Nothing in this report is to get to the Politburo or anyone else, especially the people. Imagine the panic it would cause if news got out that the Americans were so advanced."
"Very well Premier." said the Russian.
"Have the dignitaries briefed and sent back as soon as is possible immediately to visit this… Addams Family effective immediately!" said the Premier, glancing down at the last pages of the report briefly to check the family's name.
"It shall be done my Premier!" said the intelligence official with a salute before he quickly exited the office, walking briskly down the Kremlin's halls once more.
Meanwhile the Premier sat down in his chair once more, staring off into space with a dreamy look on his face. The only thing he muttered was "Silky long black hair…"
Two weeks later…
Meanwhile in the Addams household the scene was very different. Instead of propaganda posters, hammers and sickles decorating the walls there was bizarre (and at times disturbing twisted) paintings, swords and other weapons. Instead of busts of Lenin and Marx there was a stuffed bear, a moose head, suits of armour, a totem pole and an odd arrangement of other times.
And the head of this domain wasn't sat at a desk in his office staring off into space. Instead he was balancing on his head in front of the fireplace whilst smoking a cigar and reading the newspaper.
Gomez wasn't that interesting in what the news he was reading nor even too focused on his Zen Yugi. He was just passing the time whilst he waited for his beautiful wife to finishing feeding her plants.
Though Gomez couldn't see Morticia he could certainly hear her, fussing over Cleopatra and her other plants in the conservatory. He could picture her in his mind babying each and every one of her potted darlings as she called them, pride on her face as she praised their growth and the sharpness of their thorns and spikes.
Then after several more minutes of balancing on his head he saw her entering the living room from out of the corner of his eye, spying the bottom of her form clad in one of her many tight black dress elegantly yet slowly crossing the room to her chair. He could feel his wife's eyes upon him, no doubt looking at him in amusement as he stared at the bottom of her hobble dress, catching a glance of her high heels through the tentacle-esc strands as she sat down in her wicker chair.
"Anything interesting in the news today darling?" he heard her ask, snapping from his tranced gaze at her feet.
"Of course darling." answered Gomez as he glanced back over at the newspaper, knowing his black haired wife no doubt had a slight smirk on her face from how he fallen into a trance at the site of only such a simple part of her. "Two revolutions in Africa, a war in the Middle East, riot in Berlin, a mass murderer in Kentucky, moose hit by a car in Canada…"
"The poor moose." interupted Morticia pitifully as one of the antlers of their wall mounted moose rotated slightly in agreement.
"Well you know how it is Cara Mia." said Gomez. "Sometimes you hit them, sometimes you miss them. And unfortunately for the moose this was one of the later times."
"How true…Monsieur." replied Morticia. He could practically hear the slight smirk which was no doubt on her face as she spoke.
"Tish that's French!" declared Gomez as he dropped and rolled out of his head balancing position, cigar falling out of his mouth and extinguishing itself as he did so, and rushed over to her right side. Immediately he began planting kisses along his wife's arm, beginning with her porcelain white hand and heading upwards. "Say more Querida! Rouge, Calais, bataille navale, due vin anything!"
"Very well Darling. Noir comme la nuit." said Morticia in a more sultry tone than usual.
"More Tish, more!" said Gomez during a slight second where he paused from kissing her, before resuming just past her elbow.
Morticia looked as if she was about to oblige her husband's request when the sound of one of Thing's many boxes opening on a table just behind Gomez interupted her, the hand in question poking out of it with letters in hand.
"Darling the mails in." said Morticia rather calmly in an attempt to get Gomez to reach over and retrieve it, but instead he did something that she wasn't surprised by in the least after spending many a year as his wife. He leant back whilst maintaining his grip on her with one arm as he continued to kiss it, pulling her over the arm of her wicker chair partially in the process. Then with a brief "Thanks Thing." her husband took the mail from the hand and leaned forward once more, pushing her back her back into her chair as he continued to plant kiss after kiss on her arm, depositing the letters in her black clad lap without missing a beat.
"Oh you Castilians are so tenacious." commented Morticia with a smile as patted Gomez's head lightly before opening and reading through the letters they had received. Most of them were bills, which would no doubt delight Gomez but there was also a letter and a flier amongst the bills. She opened the letter and read through it briefly, smiling as she finished it.
"What's the letter about Tish?" inquired Gomez, having managed to wrangle control of himself after having reached her neck and kissed both it and the very top of her back several times.
"It's from that nice Mr Harris." answered the black haired beauty happily, before she began to read him out the letter. "Listen to this."
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Addams
We have recently received notice from the Union of Soviet Socialist Republic's embassy in Washington that they wish for Mr. Hahn and Mr. Klarpe, whom you no doubt remember, to visit your home on their next visit to experience an average American household once more. Expect this time the Soviets wish for them to stay with you for a week to understand a week in the life of an average American family in a better attempt to build ties between our two nations.
Now I know it is quite the intrusion but it would be of great help to the country if you were to host them for a week. Of course you would also be fully compensated by the government.
Reply via telephone at your nearest convenience within the next week.
Many thanks
From Mr. Harris
P.S. Don't worry about them wishing to take Lurch back with them for scientific purposes. They seemed more interested in your uncle's unique way of gaining energy and Mrs. Addams's lovely African Strangler.
"Of course we'd be happy to have them stay with us! They brightened our day immensely when they came to visit." declared Gomez as he jumped to his feet from where he'd been kneeling next to Mortica's chair.
"And they didn't run out like so many other guests do." added Morticia as she placed the letter on another side table.
"True. I'll never understand what causes so many people to leave us so suddenly." replied Gomez, a puzzled expression on his face.
"Though we shouldn't be so hasty Gomez." said Morticia as she raised her hand to her cheek in thought. "After all hosting someone for a week is a far bigger undertaking than a day."
"Yet it would be no trouble for you Tish! You're always such a good hostess." said Gomez, his voice filled with praise as he walked over to their metal Indian statue to retrieve another cigar, which of course ignited the moment it no longer touched the statue.
"True Darling." replied Morticia as she stood up from her chair. "But I still feel with should give it more thought."
"Whatever you wish Cara Mia." said Gomez as he crossed back over to Morticia, putting his hands on her waist lightly as he looked into her eyes. "We'll talk about it later."
"After I help Lurch prepare your lunch…Bubala." said Morticia with a warm smile before turning out of her husband's embrace and heading towards the entranceway on the right side of their grand fireplace, the very picture of elegance as she did so.
"That name…" said Gomez to a now empty room as he took a drag from his cigar.
A few hours later…
Mr. Harris was sitting at the desk in his office over in the nearby city shifting through some reports from the state's governor intended to get to his higher ups. As was usual none of them had any importance…as usual. Thus he simply stamped them after a glance at each of them, working his way through the stack in boredom.
Then rather suddenly the phone rand, startling him. He reached over to answer the phone, glad for the brief break from his currently monotonous job.
"Hello, who is it?" asked Mr Harris after putting the phone to his ear.
"Mrs. Addams." replied an alluring voice he immediately recognized, a voice which brought back many a bad memory.
"Ah Mrs. Addams, calling about the letter I presume." said Harris, trying to at the very least be professional and friendly despite his previous experiences with that woman's family.
"Yes I am. After discussing it over lunch my husband and I have decided to host the two foreign dignitaries for a week as you've requested." came from feminine voice from the telephone.
"That's great Mrs. Addams! I'll call home office back in Washington immediately to give them the go ahead to the Soviets." said Harris, pleased that another load of work would soon be off his back. " Of course I'll tell them to get your compensation ready aswell."
"No need for compensation Mr. Harris. We're merely doing our bit for international relations." replied Morticia Adams, clearly pleased at the idea of her family helping the nation.
"As you wish, expect for me to bring the dignitaries round in roughly a week. Goodbye Mrs. Addams." said Harris, thankful that is workload had been slightly decreased by them family not wanting compensation.
"Goodbye Mr. Harris." replied the alluring voice of Morticia Addams, just before he put the phone down before picking it up again shortly after.
"Hello, Home Office. The Addams's said yes they'll host the two Soviets." said Harris, glancing up at the clock as he did so. Great…there was still six hours of work left till he could go home. Oh joy.
Morticia had a smile on her face as she put down the phone; it was always a joy when such matters were taken care of quickly and efficiently. She then felt someone embrace her from behind and put their head on her shoulder.
"Guess who?" asked Gomez jokingly.
"Uncle Imar." said Morticia, playing along with her husband's joke.
"No he's far too short." replied Gomez.
"Cousin Squelot…no he's has three arms." said Morticia thoughtfully, causing Gomez to chuckle as she did so.
"Nope, guess someone with a brain." said Gomez with a laugh.
"Gomez that's no way to talk about your cousin." said Morticia coolly as she pulled out of his embraced and turned to face him whilst crossing her arms, a frown planted on her delicately pale face.
"Sorry Cara Mia. You know me and Squelot have never got along." replied Gomez, his tone a little guilty.
"I know Mon Cher. I've never got along with him either but that's no reason to make such jokes about him." said Morticia as she reached out to stroke her husband's cheek before a slight smirk appeared on her face. "Even if the joke is true." The two of them merely stayed like that for a few seconds, her stroking his cheek whilst he smiled back at her, each staring into their spouse's eyes.
"So how did the phone call go Tish?" asked Gomez, breaking the silence as she withdrew her arm as Lurch came in and sat down at his Harpsicord.
"It went well Darling. Mr. Harris said the dignitaries will be here within the coming week." answered Morticia as their butler began play a slow yet up beat tune, getting lost in her own world as he did so.
"Excellent! That gives us plenty of time to prepare." said Gomez ecstatically, causing Morticia to smile. It would never cease to amuse her how easily her husband got excited over such little things.
"You mean it'll give me and Lurch plenty of time to prepare Mon Cher." replied Morticia as she brushed back a bit of her hair. "Remember you were overseeing the merger of Almeir's Alligator Farm and Albert's Alpacas Inc. Your companies."
"Ah of course Querida Mia! In my excitement at our old acquaintances visiting I'd forgot all about that exciting merger." said Gomez happily, putting his arm round her waist and pulling her right up against him rather suddenly as he did so.
"Une telle presse serré Mon Cherie!" exclaimed Morticia in surprise at the sudden contact, despite it being an often occurrence.
"Let's just forget about the merger and dignitaries for now Cara Mia." said Gomez, barely resisting kissing her arm at the moment she spoke French. "And return to our usual evening routine."
"Of course Gomez." replied Morticia, a smile lighting up her pale face.
"Lurch an Italian beat please!" called Gomez. There was a split second pause before Lurch complied, switching what piece he was playing with little thought at all. All thanks to years upon years of playing the Harpsicord. "Care to dance Morticia?"
"Always Gomez." replied Morticia happily, a slight sultry tone to her voice, before the two of them began to dance in the centre of the room, focusing only on their other half.
Well that and not bumping into any furniture.
Well there's chapter 1 for you all. Just thought I'd briefly say that this is based on the 60s series, even though that should be fairly obvious.
A bit of backstory for this. I've only known of the Addams Family for a year now, I found it after reading a news article on the BBC last year about poor old Weatherwax's death. Which is a bit morbid yet Addams-esc in a way. Anyway in the article there was a picture of the whole 60s cast together, one of the colour promotional shots. And to put it simply it grabbed me. I was intrigued by this odd group of characters, because let's be honest the completely hair shaved Uncle Fester and intimdating Lurch stood out in contrast with the beauty of Carolyn Jones and the utter bizzareness of Cousion Itt. Looked up some episodes online and it had me about half way through the third episode, within the week I'd ordered the box set. There's barely any dull episodes and I must say it's the first new (as in newly found by me) show I've come across in years which has made me laugh so much. I'd say more but there's little to say which has already been said many a time before by others.
And long story short (even though that was a bit long) I wanted to have a stab at writing an Addams Family fanfic and this idea just popped into my head one day. And since this is my favorite, ok one of my favorite episodes I thought why not? Hopefully this chapter was enjoyable and a good set up.
