Usual disclaimer warnings. (Pubert is about 7)

Special thanks to littleobsessions for being an amazing beta and giving me the confidence to publish my first ever fic!

Enjoy :)


Looking around at his surroundings, it occured to Gomez Addams that, perhaps he might have accidentally stumbled into the pits of Hell- and if so, how disappointing the sight.

He knew he should have had Lurch turn the car around and head home the moment he caught sight of how clear the day had been. In fact, he was about ready to turn back when he caught sight of his son's expression.

"Father, please can we stay?"

Never before had he seen such a pitiful look as Pubert stared up at him, small sharp fingers gripping the lapels of his suit tighter, his bottom lip stuck out, and caused the small dark baby hairs of his growing beard to quiver. Seeking additional confirmation, he turned his beady little eyes to the real head of the family in silent query. Morticia had been looking at him too, her face an icy mask except for a quirk of her eyebrow in silent assent and a slight, reluctant nod of her head at the door handle.

As soon as he stepped out of the car, he pulled his wife and son to him. Seeing it fit to slip from his grasp, Pubert disappeared into the crowd, perhaps to see his little friend he has been admiring for quite sometime now. Of course, it was not hard to spot his son in his pin-striped suit and slicked black hair for he seemed to stand out in a crowd of brightly attired people. Meanwhile, his wife decided to stay at his side, nails digging almost painfully into his arm, desperate to keep him near her. They sought shelter under a sickly green looking canopy, escaping the infernal rays of the sun.

This event was something that confused him greatly. An Easter egg hunt. He was under the impression that the children would be hunting live lizard eggs or perhaps snake eggs just as he and his brother did back in their youth. But alas, kids these days didn't know what they were missing...

When Pubert came to him in his office just one day prior, bearing this letter of light pink hue filled with images of rabbits and eggs he knew this would be a mistake. But his son looked so hopeful. He knew he was a bit lonely these days, what with him being the only child in the house with Wednesday still in her final year at college and Pugsley getting 6 months added to his sentence for accidentally blowing up the prison library. Normally, an interest like this would spark some concern, but Gomez knew he mainly wanted to go to impress a girl he has been admiring for quite some time. Regardless, he spoke to his wife that very night about the topic and they both reluctantly agreed. Conveniently when it was time to gather up the family and head out that morning, Thing feigned illness, Fester suddenly had a prior engagement with Dementia and Mama was nowhere to be found.

Never before would he say he has felt so uncomfortable in his life. Fresh air, the scent of lemon cake, the screams and cries of happy children, how disturbing.

Usually he would be the one to go out and mingle with his fellow guests- or in this case, his fellow parents and Pubert's school teachers - but Morticia still had her grip firmly on his arm and if he was being honest, he found it fit to stay where he was.

Clearly they did not belong as they had been the recipients of stares as soon as they arrived. Perhaps they were wearing improper attire, but pastels were never his thing nor his wife's. Still though, he knew the stares went much deeper. They were judging them. Some in disgust, some in fear, and so forth. Normally this would not bother him for he was used to this but, a few of the males, he realised as his blood boiled, seemed to let their gaze fall intently on his wife. Calming himself as best as he could, Gomez lit a much-needed cigar and angled his body to block their lecherous gaze upon her flesh.

The screams of young children did nothing to ease his headache either.

Using his rising cigar smoke as a bulwark against the day's elements, Gomez took in a deep sigh and held his wife closer against his side, refusing to let anyone penetrate his wall of defence.

"Gomez." she whispered.

The sound was so soft he barely heard it over the piercing screams of children. His gaze found itself back at its rightful place upon her lovely face. She had barely spoken since they arrived.

"Yes cara?" Fingers lifting to absentmindedly tuck a few stray hairs away from her eyes.

"Gomez darling, I'm hot. Shall we go get a drink of water?" She looked up at him for a moment more, before her eyes drifted to the gaudy looking picnic table filled with baked goods, sweets and other unsavoury looking snacks.

Thank goodness there was a cooler containing beverages.

Reaching behind to grasp her parasol, she opened it up and let the stick rest gently over her lace covered shoulder. Taking her delicate hand gently into his grip, he led her over to the table, her alabaster skin fully shrouded in shade. Scanning his eyes suspiciously, he made sure none of her….admirers were around. The people that were mingling around the table seemed to make themselves scarce as soon as the pair made their way over. Reaching in and grabbing a bottle, he made sure to add a few drops of cyanide, just how she liked it and gave it to her.

Taking the offered drink, she fluttered her eyelashes, "Thank you mon amour".

His heart raced.

" Oh Tish."

Bringing her even closer to him, his lips met the cool skin of her neck, tracing feather light kisses up to her chin

"French? You know what that does to me."

A wicked smirk formed on her crimson lips, she let her body press into his, causing him to suck in a wild breath

"Oui."

The bottle, much like his cigar, lay forgotten on the grass as his lips soon engulfed hers, pulling her into their passionate embrace. He tipped her back and pressed hungry kisses and bites along the column of her neck before climbing back up to her lips. Her left hand reached to cup the back of his neck, the parasol dangled almost precariously from her right hand, tip nearly touching the grass.

"Mr and Mrs Addams!"

The kiss ended abruptly as they looked up and saw the hard glare Pubert's teacher was shooting at them. He soon realised nearly everyone was staring at the couple with a look of indignation. Some even averting their children's eyes.

Fortunately, this included the men that were looking at his wife earlier.

Reaching to pull both of them up right, his wife decided to take the lead.

"Mrs Warner," she smiled slightly, her alluring features once again cast in shade, "how are you?"

"Fine thank you Mrs Addams, but for the last time, no public displays of affection in front of the children!"

"Of course!" Gomez replied "My apologies for the mishap, it will not happen again"

He offered up a charming smile, which seemed to disarm her glare somewhat.

"Mhmm." she replied before turning on her heel and stalking away.

"Is your Pubert planning on joining the egg hunt?" A voice asked.

Turning, Gomez could vaguely recall this woman. Sensing their lack of recognition, she stuck out her hand:

"Mrs Fitzgerald, Jenny and Simon's mom."

Ah yes he remembered her now. Wednesday had once been invited to Jenny's 12th birthday party and decided to gift her two of the newest alligator hatchlings from the swamp. The guests had been unspeakably rude.

"Oh no. He found it best to sit back and observe the festivities this year," replied Morticia not unkindly.

"What a shame then," replied Mrs Fitzgerald, pursing her lips.

"Pardon?" Morticia blinked once.

"Well, I feel as if Pubert, unlike his older siblings, could have really made an impression on his peers if he joined in like my Simon."

Morticias smile remained but he saw her eyes flash dangerously. Unnoticed by anyone else but them, he rubbed her back soothingly.

"Of course Mrs Fitzgerald, we won't want our Pubert to make any false impressions would we?"

Her smile widened, showing teeth that may have well been fangs.

"We will surely keep your words in mind going forward." she finished.

He had to hide his smirk at her well-hidden sarcasm, not that Mrs Fitzgerald noticed as she did nothing but offer up a satisfied smile and turned back, no doubt to giggle and gossip with her flock of hens.

Suddenly, as if his headache wasn't strong enough, the Principal decided to use the blow horn too loudly and over excitedly announce to everyone in the park-and possibly those in Europe heard no doubt that the Easter hunt would begin.

Sighing, he held his wife so her back was pressed to his chest.

"At least this is almost over," he murmured into her ebony tresses. She reached back and stroked his cheek by way of comfort.

Thirty minutes later, the hunt was over and he was itching to leave.

"Tish, I think I will take a walk around and look for Pubert, I'm rea-"

"OH MY GOD!" A voice screamed. Followed by another, then more. Tish turned a curious gaze to him, mirroring his own expression. Making their way to where the ruckus was, Gomez had to hold himself back from laughing as he saw worms, millions of worms swarming the picnic tables, emerging from the food and off of plates, all coming from the bright eggs.

It made for quite a grotesque scene.

Morticia herself offered an amused smile at the bizarre sight as they watched people run for their lives as if the worms were deadly. Someone had also apparently knocked down the grill and set one of the canopies aflame, sending its occupants scrambling out of the inferno.

"Gomez darling look."

Tish nodded her head to a particularly large red oak tree up ahead, where he just barely managed to spot his son and his little friend holding hands and giggling at the mess they no doubt caused. He made a mental note to talk to his son later, no matter how humorous this was.

But now all he could think was to hold his wife closer to him and revel in the chaos.

"Our son made quite an impression today after all." he smirked, managing to draw a wicked grin on her lips.

"Always." she replied and he pulled her into another kiss.

The shrieks, screams and incoming alarm of the fire trucks did nothing to lessen their passion.


Alright that's it. What do you think? Constructive criticism is much welcomed.