Alright, so this is my first Addams Family fanfic and my first fanfic in a while. I know I haven't updated The New A (Pretty Little Liars) or The High School Reunion(13, The Musical) in almost a year and I apologize, but since I am sick today, I decided to write this one-short, so enjoy! (Or should I say…don't enjoy!)

Disclaimer: I do not own The Addams Family, or Lucas, unfortunately. They belong to Charles Addams and Marshall Brickman and Andrew Lippa and Rick Elice.

(Also, this is set after the musical and Wednesday and Lucas have an apartment in the city, only about a mile from the Addams' mansion in Central Park, since they would probably want to stay close. )

Wednesday's POV

How am I going to tell Lucas?

I was sitting in the bathroom in my house, starting at the little stick in my hand, and more importantly the two little pink lines. I hated pink enough and now I hate it even more.

Lucas and I had been married for only about a year and half, and now I was pregnant. Pregnant. I, Wednesday Friday Addams, was with child. How had this happened? Well, I know how it happened.

Lucas would be thrilled of course, and not in the frightening way. He'd probably want to name it something disgusting like Joshua or Emma or Mary. I loved my husband, but on some occasions I wonder how we ever fell in love in the first place.

When I had finally gotten up from where I had been sitting on the edge of the bathtub, I walked out into the bedroom and over into the kitchen and pulled some steaks out of the freezer. I liked my steak raw, but not frozen.

"Wednes, I'm home!" I hear Lucas call as he shuts the front door behind him.

Uh-oh. I guess I must have been sitting in the bathroom longer than I thought since Lucas comes home around 4:30 on most days. Lucas comes into the kitchen wearing his usual tie, dress shirt, and slacks. He had just started his first teaching job at some public middle school and sometimes I worry that he loves his job more than me.

"How was your day?" he asks, pulling me close and planting a kiss on my lips before I can answer.

"Perfectly horrible, thank you," I answer, pulling away to unwarp my steaks.

"Craving some beef, are we?" he says.

"What?" Cravings were a sign of pregnancy…he couldn't possibly know, could he? I had just found out!

"Nothing," he laughs. "You just tend to go for steak when you have something to hide."

"I do not!" I protest, shoving the bloody meat into my mouth.

"Wednesday, I have been home for all than a minute and I can already tell something's not normal with you."

"I'm not normal, Lucas. You know that," I say through a mouth full of steak.

"Addams normal. You're not being your kind of normal."

I don't answer him simply because I have no answer to this. I know I have to tell him, but…

"Lucas," I say, this time my mouth completely absent of steak. "I have something I need to tell you."

"What is it, Wednesday? Pugsley blow up your parent's place again?"

"No, not exactly. I wouldn't say it was that good news…"

"Then what, Wednesday? Are you okay?"

"I'm pregnant."

"You're-we're -pregnant?" he stutters.

"Yeah," I say, not sure what his reaction was going to be.

"Wednesday, this is wonderful! We're gonna be parents! There's gonna be a pale, little Beineke running around here in nine months!" he cries, grapping me around the waist and lifting me up and placing me on the counter.

"Wonderful is exactly what it's going to be, Lucas! We can't be parents! We have only been married for a year and a half! And you just started working! We-we're not ready!" I say, breaking suddenly into hysterical sobs and practically knocking him over with the force of driving my head into his chest.

"Wednesday, calm down. We're gonna be fine." Lucas assured me, gently rubbing the back of my head.

"Fine? Fine? How can you say that?" I sob, only pulling my head away from his soaked shirt for a minute to look him in the eye.

"Wednesday, you need to calm down. We're going to get through this. This is a good thing. Or, umm, as your father would put it, a horrrrrrible thing!" Lucas says with an absolutely dismal impression of my father, which makes me smile, something I am definitely going to blame on pregnancy hormones.

"You sure it's going to be okay?"

"I am absolutely negative that we will be perfectly fine, Wednesday." He answers, and then he leans into kiss me, which I respond to by wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him back. I feel his hands begin to roam, and I pull back a little.

"Lucas, this is how we got into this situation in the first place." I tell him.

"You're right, Wednes," my husband says, removing his hands from where they had ended up and grabbing the package of steaks and saying, "Shall we at least cook these a little, or should I leave yours bloody and just cook my own?"

"Cook your own and give me the rest. And I want you to pour the rest of the baroque sauce into the bag."

"Alright, Wednesday. But don't eat all of it, okay?"

"I'll eat whatever I want, thank you very much. I'm eating for two now."

Ten minutes later, we are sitting at our kitchen table eating our respectively cooked (or not cooked) beef, when a very interesting though occurs to me.

"Lucas, how are we going to tell your parents?"

"With the most extreme caution." He answers.

"And mine?"

"With even greater extreme caution."

Yeah. This poor kid had no chance.

Well, that is it! Thanks for reading and please, PLEASE, review! All you have to do is click the little button that says the golden word…