Author's Note: That's right, a chapter within two weeks of the last one. This is happening.


Earlier, April 28, 1954

Lucas Beineke sat in his cab outside a bodega in Brooklyn, munching on a Hershey's chocolate bar and waiting for a fare to come along. The day had been rather slow, which he suspected was due to the rather nice weather causing more people to walk to their destination. If he didn't rely on their commission to keep his sister off his back, he would have been more inclined to enjoy the sunshine as well. However, as it was, all it did was kill his business and melt his chocolate.

He was just licking the tips of his fingers and preparing to try driving around again when three well-dressed men approached his cab- Two of which were supporting one who was bleeding heavily from his abdomen. The taller of the unwounded jumped into the passenger seat of Lucas' cab.

"173 Mulberry, and fuckin' step on it!" The man ordered, and Lucas immediate flipped on the meter and made sure the other two were in before peeling out. The injured man groaned in pain.

"Does he need to go to a hospital?" Lucas asked after noticing from his rearview mirror that the man had a switchblade knife still protruding from his stomach.

"No." The man in the passenger seat said darkly, and Lucas heard the cock of a gun. "Now stop asking questions and drive, asshole." Lucas nodded profusely and pressed his foot down harder on the gas, now weaving in-between cars and flying through red lights. He'd finally made a deduction based on the men in expensive suits with guns and a stab wound; these guys were clearly in the mob.

"That's more like it." Passenger man said, and put his gun away.

"The kid ain't such a bad driver." The man in the back noted between doing what Lucas supposed you could call comforting. "It's gonna be alright. The bastard's dead and you're gonna be alright." Lucas heard him say to the bleeding man.

"Aw, fuck!" The leader in the passenger seat yelled the moment he saw flashing red and blue lights behind them as they were crossing the Manhattan Bridge. "Lose 'em!" He yelled at Lucas, who proceeded to completely floor it. A few ordinary sedans and trucks swerved every which way to get out of his way, which gave him a bit of an advantage on speed, but the cab was old, and it would never outrun the brand new cop car. As soon as he was off the bridge, Lucas took a sharp turn onto a side street, and then another into an alley- possibly running over a cat in the process.

"We're almost there." The soother said to the response of a weaker groan from his injured friend. Once Lucas was sure he'd lost the cops, he made a beeline for the address. Slamming on the brakes on the street outside, Lucas breathed a sigh of relief at not dying, and the men in the back wasted no time in getting out of the car.

"Thanks, Buddy." The leader said to Lucas as soon as his men made it inside an apartment building. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a $100 bill for Lucas. "Frankie was right. You ain't a bad driver, Kid." Lucas didn't quite know how to react.

"Um, thanks?" He responded, pocketing the bill and glancing at the $5 on the meter.

"We could use guys like you. Guys that don't crack under pressure, you know?" The man asked and Lucas nodded. "What's your name, kid?"

"Lucas Beineke, Sir." The man smiled, which Lucas didn't expect from the man who'd just been holding a gun to his head.

"Don't call me Sir. The name's Alec." He introduced himself and offered his right hand. Lucas shook it firmly.

"Pleasure to meet you, Alec." He said politely.

"Likewise." Alec reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Lucas tentatively took one when it was offered, and tried his very best to not cough up a lung while smoking it. "Do you like driving a cab, Lucas?" Alec asked, taking a long drag before slowing exhaling the smoke into the hot-boxed car.

"Not exactly, but it pays some of the bills." Lucas flicked away the ash harder than necessary in the hopes that the cigarette would burn down faster.

"A guy like you shouldn't be working some crap job like this." Alec commented and Lucas shrugged.

"Better than working in an office with my dad. Figure driving a cab and keeping my sister off my back is worth it in the end." He explained.

"Well, in case you're looking for a little more, come by Montebello's on Broome tomorrow afternoon." Alec opened the door of the car. "I'm sure we'll make it worth your while." With that, he stepped out and slammed the door shut; leaving Lucas with a decision.


The Next Day

"I'm sorry, Paloma, but they gave me a very generous offer." Gomez Addams apologized to his appalled eldest child

"I can't believe you would even consider dealing with those lowlifes!" Wednesday exclaimed as she through herself into one of her father's armchairs.

"These men are some of the best company you can keep in this city! I feel so very at ease knowing that they are protecting the hotel." The middle-aged Spaniard argued. His daughter furrowed her brow.

"They also tend to attract danger wherever they go, like moths to the flame." She stated. "I hardly think their 'protection' is worth inadvertently getting involved in the mess that comes with organized crime."

"Wednesday, you must trust that I know what I am doing." The girl sighed at her father's words.

"I do trust you; it's them I'm having trouble trusting." Wednesday stated. "I mean, they threatened you into taking the deal, right?" She asked.

"Oh, yes! And Gomez got up from his desk to stand over his daughter and place a hand on her shoulder. "And with such eloquence!" Wednesday couldn't help but smile at her father's attitude towards matters such as this.

"Just please be careful when dealing with them, Father." She pleaded, and he nodded.

"You worry too much, Pidgin." Gomez placed a kiss on his daughter's forehead. "Now, let us go to Ashford's. You know you want to." Wednesday laughed at her father's facial expression and shook her head.

"As good as chocolate-covered crickets sound right now, I unfortunately promised Joel I would meet him at the hotel." She declined, and her father's face shifted to one of suspicion.

"What are you going to do at the hotel?" He asked.

"We're meeting for a drink and then he's taking me to a movie." Wednesday answered truthfully. Her father smiled.

"Well, I hope you crazy kids have fun." Gomez gave his dismissal and Wednesday made her way out of his office and upstairs to her room. Ordinarily, she would meet Joel in her usual attire, but she felt that their first real date together in weeks shouldn't be ruined by another one of his comments about her not keeping up to date with the latest fashion (because of course, she had to be just like all of his friends' wives). Deciding on one black dress with thick straps and two buttons on the front, Wednesday figured Joel would appreciate her dressing modernly for his benefit. Topping it off with a diamond necklace that she knew he'd stolen for her, she was sure he would be satisfied with her appearance for once.

"I'm going out with Joel; don't wait up." Wednesday called to her mother as she opened the front door.

"Of course not, Darling." Morticia replied with a knowing smile that made Wednesday very uncomfortable. "And have Lurch drive you." At his cue, the tall, tired butler appeared in his driving cap.

"Let's go." He groaned and led the way to the family car, opening the back door for Wednesday.

"Thank you, Lurch." She said politely, climbing in and moving to the window with the most setting sunlight. She reached into her purse for her makeup and miniature mirror for a quick add-on.

"Are you serious?" Lurch grumbled at the shade of burgundy lipstick she chose.

"I am an adult!" She argued.

"I didn't raise you that way, and I don't like that boy." Lurch began to slightly raise his voice.

"You aren't my mother!" She exclaimed and put it on, causing Lurch to grumble in defeat.

"I could take you to the movie, you know." Lurch offered and Wednesday sighed, returning the items to her purse.

"I know you could, but I just need to spend some time with Joel, alright?"

"You're too young to be dating." Lurch resigned himself to.

"Whatever you say." Wednesday defiantly muttered at her surrogate second father's concerns.


"This is stupid, this is stupid, this is so stupid!" Lucas scolded himself as he sat parked outside of Montebello's, wearing the best three piece suit he could afford with the massive tip. He had half a mind to just forget the whole thing and continue his usual shift, but the nagging greed for more in life tugged at him. When else would he have such an opportunity to become like one of the characters in books or movies? He'd made up his mind by the time Mr. Mott's voice crackled over the radio.

"Luke, what the hell is the matter with you? Peggy just told you to drive to 23rd to pick up a client!" Lucas' boss demanded.

"...No." Lucas responded and waited for the impending termination.

"Go to the goddamn address or you're fired, Beineke!" Mott's red face could practically be heard over the radio.

"Good!" Lucas yelled and got out of the cab, walking into the restaurant with a newfound sense of confidence.

"Hey, it's the cabby from yesterday!" The well man that had been in the backseat greeted Lucas from the restaurant bar. The slightly tubby man got out of his seat to shake Lucas' hand.

"Frank Barbaro." He introduced himself. "You saved my fuckin' friend's life yesterday!" Lucas smiled.

"I'm sure the doctor that took care of him did more than I did." He admitted modestly.

"Nah. He never would have made it that far if anyone else had been driving." Frank clapped a hand down on Lucas' shoulder. "Come on. Alec wanted me to wait here for you and drive you to the Caballero."

"The what?" Lucas asked Frank, who was getting his raincoat off of a hook.

"The Caballero. Some new hotel in midtown." Lucas hesitated in following the man to his car, suddenly remembering all of the stories of men who were taken on boat rides and such. Frank must have noticed this, and waved Lucas over.

"You'll only ever have to worry if you manage to piss someone off, kid." He got into the driver's side of a black sedan with dark-tinted windows, and Lucas hesitantly got in on the passenger side.

"Nice car." He complimented.

"Thanks." Frank smiled. "I stole it from a nice old man near the Brooklyn Bridge." He left Lucas in the dead silence just long enough for the younger man's eyes to widen. "I'm fuckin' joking!" Frank laughed and put the car into gear, pulling out of the restaurant parking lot. "Jesus, grow a sense a humor!" Lucas awkwardly laughed in order to hide the still-present fear.

"So, why haven't I heard anything about a new hotel?" He asked.

"It isn't really a new hotel- actually, I think it's pretty old." Frank admitted. "The Caballero's a real nice place owned by some Spanish bastard named Gomez Addams. He just recently became a, uh, client." Frank turned sharply down the next street.

"A client?" Lucas asked, knowing that he probably shouldn't.

"We provide Mr. Addams' hotel with a little extra security, and he pays a small fee. Just business." Frank described extortion for Lucas, who nodded as though it didn't really bother him.

"Sounds legit." The young man interjected.

"It is legit. Anyone asks, and we work for a security business." Frank explained. "Kid, I'm only telling you this because you made a good impression on Alec, and that ain't exactly an easy thing to do."

"It's not?" Lucas asked, hoping he wouldn't overdo playing dumb.

"No, it isn't. You must have a fucking trustworthy face, because he wants you to help us with a job." Lucas' eyes finally widened at this juicy revelation. "I'll let him give you the details when we get there, but I just wanted you to get a fair warning. Do NOT fuck with us. You go to the cops, and you will die slowly before they could ever get to us. Go to the Feds, and we'll burn down your house with you and anyone else in it. Capiche?" Frank asked, and Lucas nodded furiously. "You're a smart kid. We should get along just fine."

Lucas noticed that they were pulling up in front of a hotel that looked as though it was built around thirty years prior, and while never having been updated since, it had a certain elegance about it. "Nice." He commented as he got out of the car and headed for the front door.

"Yeah. Mr. Rossetti loved this place the minute he saw it."

"I can see why." Lucas began to gush the minute he stepped foot in the lobby. "It's like going back in time." Frank rolled his eyes.

"It's a hotel, kid. Don't piss your pants." Lucas looked down at his feet.

"Sorry." He apologized. Frank laughed and shook his head.

"Come on. Alec's waiting in the bar." He said and directed Lucas through the hotel lobby past patrons who all appeared to be over the age of thirty. "It ain't the most hopping joint in town, but it's safe." Frank explained and led the young man through the doors of the hotel bar, where Alec sat at the counter with a drink on the rocks.

"Good to see you again, Alec." Lucas greeted him kindly as Frank took the seat on his left.

"Likewise, Lucas." "Please, sit." Lucas took the seat to Alec's right. "I'm assuming that Frank filled you in on the rules, so I'll make this quick; Frank and I are doing a job tonight and we need a getaway driver. You up for it?" Alec explained this as he reached into his jacket for his pack of cigarettes.

"Depends. What kind of job are we talking?" Lucas asked directly and denied Alec's offer of a smoke.

"We're picking up some guns and ammo from a shop right in the middle of Jew territory." Frank answered this time.

"If it's their territory, why don't we get the stuff from somewhere else?" The cautious side of Lucas begged him to ask.

"Because your typical gun store doesn't have illegal German military surplus." Frank reached into his pocket to produce a photograph of a stack of gun crates in a truck.

"Why do Jews have that many Nazi guns?" The youngest man asked.

"I have no fuckin' idea! They're angry bastards that would steal candy from babies!" Frank replied,

"Why do we want Nazi guns?" Lucas pressed.

"Resale value." Alec answered for Frank.

"Those bitches can go for $200 a piece!" The big man reiterated. Lucas had definitely made up his mind at this point.

"You had me at resale value. When are we doing this?" He asked, and the older men smiled.

"Tomorrow night at ten. We're gonna meet at Montebello's and you're gonna drive us to Brownsville." Alec explained. Lucas let this information sink in.

"Whoa, Brownsville? You said a job, not a suicide mission." He stated, remembering the neighborhood positively brimming with members of various Jewish gangs.

"It ain't a suicide mission! You just gotta sit in the truck and keep watch while we get the stuff and get out. Piece of cake." Frank comforted him, but it didn't do much.

"Usually when people say that, it doesn't turn out to be very true." Lucas said this while looking down at the bar table, inspecting the few rings left in the finish from damp glasses.

"Luke, do you want a cut of the money or not?" Alec asked, sounding slightly amused by Lucas' fear.

"I do, I just don't want to get killed by Jewish gangsters before I get a chance to see Paris." The young man admitted jokingly. The mobsters laughed.

"Don't you worry about that." Alec smiled and stood from the bar, beckoning Frank to leave with him. "We'll see you tomorrow night." Lucas watched them go, all the while wondering how long it would take him to walk to his cab- which he guessed wasn't his anymore. He sighed and turned in his seat to the bar, looking over the various bottles.

"Miss. Addams?" Lucas' attention was drawn to the bartender, who was handing the bar telephone to an oddly beautiful young woman with extremely pale skin and short, black hair.

"Wednesday, please." She corrected the bartender before putting the phone to her ear. "Joel?" Lucas looked back at the bottles to not make his eavesdropping on, he assumed, the heiress of the hotel incredibly obvious.

"Yes, our date was tonight." She sighed and rubbed her hand on her forehead.

"Anything I can get you, sir?" The bartender asked Lucas, who jumped to attention.

"A, um, Pepsi?" He ordered the first thing that came to mind, and the bartender nodded and went to get it.

"Yeah. Yeah, I understand." The girl resignedly said into the phone when Lucas got back to her. "See you tomorrow. Goodbye." She sighed calmly before violently slamming the phone into the receiver, accidentally knocking it off the counter. "Sorry, Ollie." She apologized to the bartender.

"It's okay, Wednesday." Ollie set Lucas' bottle of soda in front of him before picking up the pieces of the phone off the floor. "Not like your dad can't buy a new one. What can I get you?"

"Martini. Dirty." She ordered as she rubbed her right temple.

"Can I see your ID, Miss. Addams?" Ollie asked. She looked up at him and smiled.

"You're kidding, right?" The bartender smiled back at her and began mixing her drink. "So, are you just going to be listening to me all night?" It took Lucas a moment to realize she was talking to him.

"Huh?" He played dumb.

"That's what I thought. Look, as interesting as those bottles of Jack Daniels probably are, I'm not stupid." Ollie had just set the martini down on the table for Wednesday when she picked it up and moved to the seat next to Lucas. "While I've never seen you before, those two scumbags you were just with kind of blew your cover." The girl explained, and Lucas anxiously took a drink of his soda.

"So, you know Alec and Frank?" He asked.

"You could say that." Wednesday took the toothpick out of her drink and slid the green olive off. "I've really only seen them threaten my father if he didn't agree to pay them." Lucas sucked in air through his teeth.

"I'm sorry." He apologized, and she sighed.

"No, I guess it's really not your fault. You're clearly a flunky, and a new one at that." Wednesday bit the toothpick.

"And what made you come to that conclusion?" Lucas asked with an eyebrow raised. Wednesday smiled and put the toothpick onto the bar counter.

"Well," She started, reveling at the chance to show off her deduction skills. "Like I said before, I've never seen you before, which I know isn't much, but it simply adds to the fact that you're wearing a clearance sale suit from one of your garden-variety department stores."

"Hey!" Lucas playfully objected, causing Wednesday to go on.

"And the fact that you clearly haven't been hardened by witnessing countless crimes." She concluded. He wasn't quite sure how she did it, but everything was spot-on.

"Well done." A stunned Lucas congratulated her and took a longer drink from his bottle.

"Thank you." The pair went a few seconds in silence before the girl spoke up. "I don't know your name." She pointed out.

"Lucas Beineke." Lucas introduced himself and awkwardly stuck his hand out for her to shake. She gripped it too tight.

"Not sure it's very nice to meet you, but I'm Wednesday Addams, and I've just been stood up for a date, so please forgive any momentary lapse in judgment." She downed the rest of her drink. "Ollie?" She called to the bartender for a refill.

"Forgive me, but what man in his right mind would stand you up?" Lucas practically blurted out. The faintest shade of pink crossed Wednesday's pale face before she feigned laughter.

"I guess I've never pegged my fiancé as very sane." She showed off her left hand, which sported a huge diamond ring.

"Wow." Lucas had to hide his disappointment. "Lucky guy."

"Eh, I think the chances of this being stolen property are quite good." She took a drink from her new martini.

"Double standards, Miss. Addams?" Lucas asked smugly. Wednesday rolled her eyes.

"Wednesday, and it's not the same." Lucas crossed his hands on the table.

"Oh, really?" He asked. "Please do enlighten me."

"He's just in a gang full of rebellious Jewish kids and will eventually grow out of it- unlike your kind that have been terrorizing the people of New York for over fifty years." Lucas sucked in his breath at the mention of Jewish gangs.

"Then do tell me; who fixed the 1919 World Series?" Lucas asked. "That was thirty-five years ago, right?" Lucas was so glad he'd studied up on Shoeless Joe Jackson, and thus the Black Sox Scandal.

"I see your point." Wednesday admitted. "I just have hope in his better judgement, and yours for that matter." Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, you seem like a pretty okay guy once you look past the people you choose to associate with." She reached into her handbag and put a dollar bill down on the counter. "Thanks, Ollie." She called to the bartender and stood from her place. "Maybe we'll see each other again sometime?" Wednesday asked Lucas.

"Yeah, probably." He smiled at her and she began to walk out of the bar.

"Stay out of trouble, Mr. German Mobster." She said over her shoulder, leaving Lucas bewildered, and somewhat in love.


How long does it take for me to write this story? How long does it take to write a review? Do you see my point? Gooood.