a/n: I had a lot of trouble formatting this. And I just realised that a chunk of dialogue was somehow missing, which I have now replaced anyway.
Disclaimer: Still don't own it…
Please read and review, it's greatly appreciated.

Wednesday was sitting quietly on an empty coffin outside in her mother's garden. It was six in the morning, and still dark. She held a warm mug of henbane tea in her hands. She was meeting Lucas in three hours and she was a bit nervous. She'd never been nervous around him before, not even in that first moment of awkwardness when she'd had to explain why a dead pigeon had just dropped out of the tree in front of him.

She could feel the nervousness swelling in the pit of her stomach, she was confused, she couldn't understand why today of all days she should be nervous. She hadn't seen him for a week, she needed to see him, she wasn't sure if she could actually survive much longer without seeing him.

But, he'd told her that he loved her. Sure, it may have been a slip of the tongue, that happens, she'd heard Pugsley accidentally say it pretty much every time he hung up the phone, even if he wasn't talking to Morticia. It was just a habit.

But was it a habit for Lucas? Did he actually mean what he said? Surely, even if he'd said it by accident, he must love her somewhere deep down, or the thought would never have been voiced at all.

She loved Lucas. Though, she'd never say it out loud. There was no denying that she loved him. But, if he felt the same way, then, maybe she could break down some walls, and tell him that she loved him too.

She nervously, repetitively stroked the handle of the mug with her right thumb.
She started when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. She looked up, it was her mother.
"Are you alright Wednesday?" asked Morticia as she sat down on the coffin beside her daughter.
Wednesday nodded, looking down at her mug.
Morticia stared thoughtfully at her, squinting an eye as she did so, "You sure, darling?" she asked again.
This time Wednesday didn't respond. Morticia waited.
Finally Wednesday spoke up, "I'm feeling nervous, and I don't like it," she divulged.
Morticia smiled softly at the girl, "Nervous? About what darling?"
"Change," replied Wednesday ambiguously, "I don't want to talk about it."
Morticia wrapped an arm around her daughter, "Okay Wednesday, you don't have to."
Wednesday allowed the warmth of her mother's love to embrace her for a moment.
Then Morticia let go, sensing the girl's discomfort at the affection, "Would you like some breakfast darling?"
Wednesday shook her head, "I don't think I could keep it down," she admitted.
Morticia patted her daughter on the knee, "I'll fix you something small, you don't have to eat it."
With that Morticia got up and left her daughter sitting alone in the garden.

Wednesday did end up eating her breakfast, and somehow, even with the nervousness building up in the pit of her stomach she ended up standing at the meeting place, waiting for Lucas to arrive.

The meeting place was the tree under which they first met. It was eight thirty, Wednesday was early. Somehow, this didn't help her nervousness.
But then Lucas did get there. And all of that nervousness left her in an instant. She suddenly felt as though nothing could ever go wrong.
She saw him before he saw her. And he was tackled to the ground in a, perhaps too forceful, hug, before he saw her.
Her lips caught his, after a few moments they parted.
"I missed you too Wednes," smiled Lucas, as he stood up.
He helped her to her feet and stood in front of her with his hands resting on her hips.
"I didn't miss you," Wednesday tried to argue.
Lucas kissed her forehead, "Well, I missed you," he told her.
She smiled shyly at him.
"So, what do you want to do today?" he asked.
"I have an idea," Wednesday replied, removing one of his hands from her waist and holding it in her own hand, "come on."
She dragged him towards the house.
"Wait! Wednes! We aren't going to your house are we? I thought you said you wanted to wait before you took me to meet your fami-"
Wednesday cut him off, "We're not going to the house, we're going behind it," she explained, sounding slightly exasperated.

Wednesday eventually led Lucas to the family grave yard.
"Why are we here?" asked Lucas.
Wednesday shrugged, "I wanted to talk, and this is one of my favourite places."
"Oh," started Lucas, "what did you want to talk about?"
"Anything, I just want to talk with you," replied Wednesday.
"Okay, you start then," said Lucas.
"You start," argued Wednesday.
"You're idea, you start."
"Fine," conceded Wednesday, "what do I talk about."
Lucas thought for a moment, "Okay, this might be a tough one, what is your favourite childhood memory?"
"Lucas, I was a kid for eighteen years, and you want me to pick just one moment?"
"Eventually I want to hear about all of those eighteen years, Wednes, I want to know your soul as well as I know my own. But, let's just start with your favourite."
Wednesday thought for a bit, "Okay, I think I've got it."


When Wednesday was five years old, her parents took her to her very first funeral.

It was early morning and Morticia and Gomez were in their bedroom, getting ready for their outing. Morticia was running a brush through her hair, Gomez was combing his moustache. There came a petite knock at the door. Both adults turned their heads towards the sound. There stood their daughter.

"I'm bored," she informed them, "what are you doing?"
"Hello darling," greeted Morticia, "we're getting ready to go out."
Wednesday wandered into the bedroom and clambered on the bed. She positioned herself so that she was sitting on her knees, she watched her parents for a moment.
Then she spoke again, "Where are you going?"
Gomez answered this time, "We're going to a funeral, we saw some people setting up the grave, and decided to tag along."
"Oh," replied Wednesday.
Morticia finished brushing her hair, she stood up and allowed Gomez to sit on the stool by the vanity. She commenced brushing his hair.
"Why do you have to brush your hair?" asked Wednesday.
"Because darling," started Morticia, "everyone is paying their respects to the deceased, so they have to look respectable themselves."
"Oh. Why are you going?" asked Wednesday.
"Because, it's so lovely and gloomy," replied Morticia, "and it's such an unhappy atmosphere."
Wednesday was silent for a minute, she was trying to build up courage, then she finally asked, "May I come?"
Morticia and Gomez shared a look. Of course, they had expected that their daughter would ask if she could come along to a funeral one day, they just hadn't expected her to ask so soon. What if it was too much for her? That could spoil funerals for the rest of her life, after all. After a few moments, they decided.
"Of course you may Paloma," replied Gomez.
"Now, hurry to your room and fetch me your porcupine brush so I can help you get ready," added Morticia.

Wednesday clung tightly to her father's hand as they followed Morticia down the path. They were walking to the cemetery, it was only a few minutes from their home. Wednesday had to keep doing little skips in order to keep up with her parents. It wasn't so much that either was walking particularly fast, but rather, Wednesday's small legs could only go so fast. Wednesday shivered. In her excitement at going to her first funeral, she had neglected to grab anything to keep her warm. The cold bit at her nose and ears, and from her height she could hardly see anything, the mist was too thick.

When they arrived at the funeral, Wednesday was cold and miserable. Morticia led them to the back of the congregation, where they would not interfere with the mourners. They stood behind the unhappy people, Morticia and Gomez smiling at the gloom. Wednesday didn't understand it herself. But then, she was too cold to really comprehend anything. She tugged at her father's jacket.
"Father," she whispered.
Gomez bent down and gave his full attention to his daughter, "What is it Paloma?" he whispered back.
"I'm cold," Wednesday said as she looked in the direction of the coffin, she turned back to her father, "and I can't see."
Gomez gallantly removed his jacket, "Here Paloma."
He helped her slip into it. Wednesday was instantly enveloped in heat. She felt tiny, but safe, wrapped in her father's jacket. Gomez hoisted her up and sat her on his shoulders.
Wednesday rested her chin on to top of her father's head.

Morticia smiled at the pair, she leaned into her husband and he instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist.
The three of them remained in that position until the funeral ended. Wednesday had thoroughly enjoyed herself. She liked the feeling of having both of her parents so close to her, it made her feel safe.
Morticia helped Wednesday to get off of Gomez's shoulders. She removed the jacket, as Wednesday was beginning to feel the heat. Gomez slipped it back on.
"Did you enjoy yourself Wednesday?" asked Morticia.
"Oh yes," replied Wednesday, "it was so nice and gloomy."
Morticia and Gomez smiled at one another, knowing that their daughter's first funeral had been a success.

At that moment it began to rain heavily, the small family was forced to run (as quickly as they could, Morticia found it difficult to move faster than a walk in her dress) back to the mansion to get out of the rain.

They slammed the door shut as they rushed into the foyer, all laughing and all drenched. They washed up and put on dry clothes. The rest of the day was spent sitting by the fire, drinking hot mugs of henbane tea.


"And that's probably my favourite memory, I guess," finished Wednesday.
Lucas moved closer to her, "You sound like a cute kid, I can't imagine you being so small though."
"Shut up," laughed Wednesday.
Lucas smiled at her, "Sorry."
They were silent for a moment.

"Lucas," Wednesday spoke up.
"Yeah?" he asked, looking at her.
"Yesterday, you said that," she paused, "never mind."
"Wednes," said Lucas.
Wednesday looked him in the eye, "Lucas Beineke, do you love me?" she demanded.
"With all of my heart," replied Lucas.
Wednesday surprised him with a harsh, desperate kiss.
"I love you too," she said fiercely as she freed her lips from his.
Lucas smiled broadly at her, then he reached into his pocket, "Then I think I can guess what your answer's going to be."

He pulled a small box out, "Wednesday Addams," he started.
"Oh my god, are you proposing?" asked Wednesday.
Lucas paused awkwardly, "Yeah. Yeah," he replied, "you don't…"
"I do," replied Wednesday, "I want to marry you."
She kissed him again.
"Hey wait, I had a poem, and I was…it was going to be really romantic."
"Lucas," started Wednesday, then she cut herself off, "I'll have to tell my family about you. They're going to over react, they're going to be weird, they're.."
"Wednesday, calm down," interrupted Lucas, "we'll start with the easy family first. My parents are in town next week, why don't you come over for dinner on Friday and meet them."
Wednesday thought for a moment, "Okay, I can do that. You're lucky I love you Lucas Beineke."