A/N: Well, here we go again. Child #2. Enjoy.
Erik Gomez Charles Addams-Beineke
"Two For Mirth"
"Get back here, you little twerp!"
"Can't catch me!"
Nell's boots pounded against the stairs, sending a veritable symphony of creaks echoing through the decrepit house. As the 9-year-old ran, her brother laughed and held a leather-bound book over his head. The title glinted gold in a flash of sunlight from the front window: Journal.
"Nell an' Morgan, sittin' in a tree," Erik chanted as they approached the living room. "K-I-S-S-"
"Liar!" his sister yelled. "Shut up! I don't like her!"
Just outside the mahogany doors, the 3-year-old screeched to a halt. Erik pushed back his too-long brown bangs and sneered at his sister.
"Yes, you do," he said. Nell snorted.
"Not like that. She's my best friend!"
"That's not what you said here," he challenged, raising the journal.
After making a futile grab for it, his sister retreated somewhat. "You can't even read that."
"Uncle Pugsley can."
"You didn't!" she shrieked, and attempted once more to reclaim her book. A brief scuffle ensued, which promised to turn into a longer altercation until two things happened.
1. Nell pulled a dagger from the pocket of her dress, and
2. The living room doors opened.
Instantly the siblings separated. Roughhousing was far from unusual in the Addams-Beineke household, but Lucas in particular had forbidden hand-to-hand fighting until Erik was at least six. And neither wanted to lose firearms or chemical cabinet privileges over something so trivial.
From the doorway, however, it was Wednesday who sighed, "Don't let your father catch you doing that."
"Mother, are- are you okay?" Nell asked hesitantly. The young woman's eyes, always deep-set, now looked even more so thanks to the dark circles surrounding them. Her short, dark hair was unusually disheveled. She looked tired, a state the children were not used to seeing their mother in. Even her tone, when she spoke, seemed to confirm this.
"Yes, I'm fine. Come in; your father and I need to talk to you about something."
The journal fell, forgotten, to the motheaten hall rug. The minute they crossed the living room threshold, Erik raced to the antique piano in one corner.
"Can I play, Mother? Please?" His face was a picture of childish innocence- blue eyes wide, lower lip quivering.
Wednesday sat down in a green-upholstered rosewood chair and glanced at Lucas, who stood staring into the fire. "I don't mind. Lucas?"
"Go ahead," her husband said, turning to smile at the children. With an answering grin, Erik clambered "up onto the piano bench and began plodding through what sounded like a very slow minuet.
Nell slowly took a seat on the dusty couch. "What did you want to tell us?" she asked, feigning nonchalance as she brushed imaginary dirt from her striped tights.
Crackling from the marble fireplace was the only answer for a moment. Lucas glanced at Wednesday, who seemed unusually intent on her sewing, then cleared his throat.
"Um…well, your mother-"
"It's alright, Lucas," she interrupted, and set aside the coat she was mending. "I'll handle this one."
Getting up from her chair, she went to stand beside Nell.
"You asked if I'm okay. Well, I am. But I….just…found out…"
Her voice trailed off, and she stared for a moment at Erik. The boy continued picking out a tune that sounded half-familiar, but so slow that none of them could place it. Until, that is, Lucas burst out laughing.
Between gasps for breath, he began to sing along. "Happy…birthday…to you…"
"We found out- 'we' apparently including your brother," Wednesday continued, fighting the urge to chuckle, "that I'm pregnant."
A/N: Dun dun duuuuuuun! And to the reviewer who wondered about reactions to Nell's sexuality- there really were none. The Addamses don't care about things like that, neither does Alice, and Mal's pretty much out of the picture (the reason for which will be explained in later chapters). Also, these oneshots are more like vignettes than directly sequential. Just FYI.