((AN: Alright, so, for once I don't have much to say before I begin this story. Prepare for the standard disclaimer! I do not own the Addams Family. I wish I did. That would be cool. Sadly for me, Charles Addams is the creator of the beloved Addams clan and his family owns all of the rights to the story. And the Beinekes belong to Rick Elice, Marshall Brickman, and, well, I guess Andrew Lippa as well. The closest I will ever get to owning the Addams Family is the metal water bottle I bought when I saw the show on Broadway, which is now dented from dropping it in a parking lot (I think it kind of gives it an Addams-y feel). Anywho, now that that's out of the way, I begin the portion of my note where I beg for reviews. A review lets me know that you enjoyed my story. While views are wonderful, a view on its own leaves me clueless as to who is reading and how they feel about my stories. So, when you get to the end of the page, why don't you click on that little review button and throw your two cents into the wishing well? …I like to think I'm cute… Enjoy the story!))

I had never seen her so restless. She kept pacing back and forth over the creaky floor boards, the amount of pressure she was putting on them beginning to concern me. One really did have to wonder how stable this house was, though her family had apparently inhabited it for years with need for only minor restorations and repairs. Still, the way she strode across the room, seemingly putting as much force as she could into each step, I couldn't help but to expect the floor to fall out from under her. I felt my hand raise ever so slightly, fingers extending toward her for a moment before falling back to my side. If it were any other girl in the world, maybe I'd try to calm her down. Maybe I would grab her arm and convince her to seat down, if it had been anyone other than Wednesday Addams. But Wednesday? She was dangerous enough when she weren't upset. Now there was a glint in her eyes, the kind that made her look truly deranged. Her entire expression seemed to warn not to remain in her proximity.

So, I wouldn't go any closer. The best option for my sake would probably be to leave. To let her wear herself out, let the anger fade. I had learned weeks ago that it didn't matter who she was angry at, if you tried to get in between her and that anger it would have consequences. I glanced down at my arm, the barely present bruises serving as a reminder of that. Though, I guess I had been lucky. Knowing Wednesday my fate could have been much worse than a few bruises and a sprained wrist. And, in that case I had been the reason she was angry. We had spent the entire morning working on wedding plans. Wednesday told me at the time of the engagement that she wanted me to be part of the planning. I had been surprised, assuming that she would have taken care of all of that with her mother or another female. When I expressed that surprise she had informed me that she didn't know anything and that I should have some input, for my family's sake. Most of the details had been settled early on. Central Park would work for the location, both families could accept that. We would get married in the evening, since it would be too bright for the Addamses in the morning, and the Beinekes wouldn't want to attend a midnight wedding. Details such as invitations had taken a bit more time, but there hadn't been much fuss over them. However, when it dawned upon them that they only had two months until the event and a color scheme still hadn't been decided upon, Wednesday seemed to get tense. To her, the answer was obvious. An Addams wedding seemed to include a lot of the color black, with a few shades of gray here and there. To the Beinekes, however, that would be a shock. They, like most people, were used to pastels being used in weddings. Finally, after a lot of screaming and a surprise physical attack by Wednesday, they had decided on a dark green and a pale golden color that they thought both families could live with.

There were only two weeks now and Wednesday seemed to be getting more tense with every day that passed. Everything had been planned by now, they had checked and double checked to be sure that there wasn't anything they overlooked. Still, every mention of the upcoming event seemed to have an adverse affect on her. I wasn't sure if anyone else noticed, but I noted the slight twitch in the corner of her eyes anytime anyone brought up the wedding, the way her hands curled into tight fists. I had asked her about it once, but the look she gave me told me it was something that wasn't to be questioned again.

I sat down on her bed, watching her continued pacing. It seemed to be slowing now. Soon enough she'd be calmed down. Surely enough, a few more times across the room seemed to drain the majority of the energy from her and left her standing in the middle of the worn floor, gazing blankly at the peeling wallpaper of the room. She remained still for only a moment before whirling around and knocking over a chair that stood in the corner of the room, kicking it for good measure before sinking to the floor beside it. I remained where I was for a moment, watching for signs of further aftershocks of anger. When I had determined it was safe, I stood, crossed the room, and sat beside her.

She didn't shrug off the hand that I placed on her shoulder, but she made no effort to move any closer either. Letting out a breath I hadn't realized she'd been holding in, she turned to look at me. There was a clear, definite edge of danger to her voice when she spoke. "She always wants to make everything about her! This is my wedding. She had her chance already," She leaned her head back against the wall now, looking up at the ceiling. It was obvious that she was talking about her mother. Morticia Addams seemed used to being the center of attention in the household. She had been genuinely surprised about her daughter's anger when she revealed the dress she planned to wear to the wedding and hour earlier, which Wednesday felt was far too close to her own.

"We could just elope," I said after a moment, shifting closer to her. Her eyes locked on me now, a bit surprised after how unwilling I'd been to elope in the past. "This is stressing you out. We could just leave tonight. Do this already. "

She made no reply for a moment, just staring. I could feel myself getting nervous. Maybe that look in her eyes meant she was about to call the whole thing off. And then she kissed me. The kiss was more gentle than any other kiss she'd ever given me, swift, fleeting… It caught me off guard. She pulled away, meeting my eyes again. "Tonight?" She inquired in a low voice.

"Tonight," I responded, watching a sneaky smile flit across her face. She shifted closer to me, allowing me to wrap an arm around her shoulders as she leaned her head on my chest, saying nothing further.