Disclaimer: The characters and anything else that may be part of the characters and scenery and other ideas that belong to Chas Addams, Paramount, MGM or 20th Century Fox do not belong to me. The plot and anything you don't recognize is mine.
Morticia glanced in the mirror one last time, checking her appearance before climbing out her window. She didn't care if her family caught her leaving, they had already ruined her as it was and if it weren't for them she probably wouldn't be going. She made her way to the cemetery, determination set in every element of her being. But when she rounded the corner and saw him standing there looking lost and confused, everything she had been talking herself into and motivating herself for flew from her system. She couldn't remember any of it, and her heart soared at the sight of him. And she hated him for it. She walked up to him, intending full heartedly to lay a solid slap across his cheek to convey all of her betrayal; she took his face in her hands and kissed him hard, sucking on his bottom lip. She had no idea what she was doing, but she felt completely powerless to stop herself. He was surprised at first, but then he slowly sunk into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. She felt his reaction and her previous intention flew back to her, slamming her in the face. She pulled back and the echo of her palm on his cheek rang throughout the cemetery.
He didn't move, even though she saw the red mark swell and a few scratches from where her nails had caught his skin. She glared, not saying a word, stubbornly waiting for him to make the next move. When he didn't say anything, only stared at her in shock, she angrily turned and ripped the chain off the gate, stalking inside and leaving it wide open for him to follow if he so wished. She didn't know what she was so angry about, she could only feel the rage coursing through her veins and driving her steps. She was generally a very conservative person, but this was an entirely new state of passion. One she understood nothing of.
For a short while she wondered if he actually was going to follow her, or if he had turned and left, but then she heard his steps behind her and his confused voice drifted sweetly up to her, music to her ears, "I don't understand, Morticia. What's going on?"
Morticia rounded on him, pointing a red tipped nail into his face to punctuate her point, "You know very well what the issue is, or you should."
She caught sight of the scratches and turned, not wanting to look at them. Sorry she had lost control. Wishing he didn't make her lose control like he did. She continued moving, if only so she wouldn't have to look at his face again. She could hear him sigh and start to follow her. "No, Morticia, I don't know. But I would if you would just tell me."
Morticia's heart broke when she thought about it. About saying it out loud. She opened her mouth to say it, but found a lump in her throat that prevented any words from coming forth. Tears stung her eyes as she thought about it and she silently chided herself for being so emotional. She covered her mouth to prevent the sob that suddenly rose, and turned all the way away from Gomez so he wouldn't see her weakness. She realized how close they were to the mausoleum and she walked over to it, pulling on the lever to open the door.
Suddenly she felt strong arms around her and his musk of cigar smoke, aftershave and that underlying scent that she had come to know as just him washed over her. The tears overflowed and she tried not to turn to him and hold him close to relieve the aching in her chest. He wasn't hers to have and she shouldn't have come. The sooner she could free herself of him the better. He was like a drug, something she was completely addicted to and something that was going to tear her apart. She shivered at his nearness as he turned her to face him. She looked up at him longingly through the tears as he gently wiped them away.
"I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong, cara mia."
She searched his eyes for any sign that he might know, but all she found was love and concern and that scared her more than anything.
"You really don't know?"
She asked the question even though she knew the answer. She knew she was stalling, not wanting to say that he was engaged out loud for fear that it would become even more real than it already was. For fear that she was accepting the fate that had been thrust upon them.
"No, I really don't. What is this about, Tish?"
She sighed, letting her hands rest lightly on his chest. "You're to be married. To my sister, Ophelia."
She watched his face go through the emotions, he was obviously unlike her in the fact that he was terrible at masking them. She couldn't help but notice the irony of that statement as it flitted through her conscious: at this moment she was doing a rather poor job indeed of masking her emotions. His face went from confusion to understanding, pain and anger . . . longing. Longing was the one she thought she liked most because it was one they both seemed to share in abundance. Longing for something they now could not have. Not unless they were going to break several rules of etiquette in the process. And the worst part, Morticia thought, was that she didn't know that she cared. She wanted him. And that was all she knew. It didn't bother her that it would destroy her sister or that her mother and father would probably never talk to her. It occurred to her that she would be perfectly content to simply stay here, in this cemetery with him and never return home.
"Querida, I swear, I didn't know," he finally said, he should have let her go then. Should have dropped his arms from around her and turned and left. But he didn't, in fact, he held her tighter and she enjoyed it all the more as his hands trailed down, resting in the small of her back and pushing her towards him. She never moved her hands from his chest, though she knew they didn't belong there.
"I know, Gomez," she answered, she was surprised by how breathless she sounded. She was painfully aware of how close their lips were in that moment and how terrible she was for wanting him so completely but she couldn't stop her eyes from fluttering shut. She couldn't stop his mustache from tickling her lips. She realized he was waiting for her to move, he wasn't going to force her to go against her family. What he didn't realize was that she didn't care how Ophelia or her parents felt about this. It felt too right to her to possibly be wrong. She reached up and pulled him down to her, their lips touching just ever so slightly. And yet, from that moment on all was lost. He deepened the kiss and she could practically taste his need as his tongue probed around experimentally.
His hands travelled even lower, lifting her up to him. He seemed to have forgotten all of his reservations from the couple of nights before and she was disinclined to remind him as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms flying out to the doorframe of the mausoleum and pushing them farther inside. His hands held her by the hips, lowering her onto the large sarcophagus at the center, her own hands traveled from his face to the hem of his shirt where they moved higher. He gasped, whether it was because her hands were cold on his scalding flesh or the move had been unexpected she didn't know but she stopped, looking up at him for confirmation to continue. His lips moved to her neck and his breath whispering across her own porcelain skin sent goosebumps down her spine, "Your hands are freezing!"
She smiled slightly, twining her cold fingers through his hair and forcing his lips even closer to her own flesh which stung as he nipped at it, "I know."
He growled as his hand traveled up her thigh carelessly and she gripped his shirt, pulling him down onto the stone with her. It crossed her mind once again that this was completely forbidden but she forced the unwanted thought away. She explored his well-toned chest, appreciative of the fine muscle she found there as he supported his weight with one hand beside her head. His other hand, she could feel, was still traveling up her thigh, ending finally at her lacy panties. He pulled them off in one fluid motion as her fingers worked of their own accord at his button and zipper. He growled again against her neck when it appeared she wasn't moving fast enough and he pulled back, doing the job himself and crawling back up to her. She reached up, kissing him again, much more heated this time and she thought he was going to give her what she wanted when he suddenly stopped.
"You're certain?" he rasped, his voice husky with his own passion. She noticed that his eyes seemed to be asking the question his voice did not: Do you really want to do this to your sister? Can you really face the judgment of your parents? She was hardly even aware of her sister at this point, the only thing in this world that seemed to exist was him and her; her need for him. She didn't even bother answering him, instead she forced her hips upward, joining them for him. He needed no more encouragement as he forced into her much more roughly than she had intended, perhaps she had underestimated him. The pain was exquisite and she couldn't stop herself from moaning his name which only drove him into an even more desperate frenzy. It was just when she thought she never could have been happier that she toppled over the brink so completely into him.
He collapsed against her, rolling slightly so he wasn't supported on only her, though she would have welcomed the nearness. Words were lost on the couple as moments passed between them, it was he that spoke first.
"There's no going back now." His words, to the untrained ear, might have sounded regretful, but Morticia could find no remorse in his Spanish accent as it graced her ears.
"Gomez, my darling, there was no going back from the moment I laid eyes on you," she confessed to him softly.
He placed a hot kiss on the skin of her forearm, his other arm snaking around her waist to pull her flush against him. "I'm glad I wasn't the only one."
Morticia closed her eyes contentedly, again the thought crossed her mind that she would be perfectly happy to simply stay here with him, in the cemetery for eternity.
A/N: Reviews are always welcome!
