"You think this all has to do with your father?"

"I know it does. At least a lot of it does. And strangely, I think I somehow always knew."

Morticia laid her head on Gomez's chest, eyes closed, and listened to the crackle and pop of the campfire she conjured earlier. He replayed in his head how she simply tapped the pile of sticks and foliage they had collected, and a hungry fire was born from her fingertip, right before his eyes. They set up a small nest near the swamp marsh, far from her cottage, to assure no family members would be alerted by the smell of fire. Anything to avoid Fester from doing his usual werewolf impression on what he might think is a troop of Boy Scouts.

The snow surrounding them had melted from the heat. Gomez held Morticia, tightly, on a small sleeping bag, under a few blankets he packed before his hike. The stars were piercing through the black veil, and the moon was peeking, shyly, behind the trees. He caressed his lover's head, trailing his fingers down the length of her hair and back. His other hand massaged her back so skillfully, it was as if his hand belonged there. Like he knew what part of her spine to caress and what flesh to squeeze. Like it was always his. Morticia never felt such a solace, she had to keep pinching the fabric of his sweater to remind herself where she was and who she was with. She was afraid if she completely gave into this dreamlike pleasure, she might drift away from him and up to join the planets.

"If you told me I died, today - that if a grizzly bear reached through my sternum and tore out my pulsing heart, and this was what awaited me beyond all I knew... I'd believe it."

"Yes, death is an awakening."

Gomez's hand briefly paused from petting her head, "I've heard that before."

"Tolstoy," she drew lazy circles on his chest. "War and Peace."

"Ah, yes... So, your mother never spoke of who your father was?"

"No. I don't want to talk about this anymore." She sat up and stretched her back.

"Are you sure?" He sat up alongside her, admiring the firelight dancing on her skin.

"Yes. I want to talk about you." Her eyes flashed as she turned to face him. "What are you?"

Gomez laughed, pulling her close. "What do you mean, what am I?"

"I mean, what is this man, who throws lavish Halloween parties for his loved ones every year? In his wondrous home where he keeps himself cooped up in a tower... This man, who, since he was a boy, has been dedicated to witches, this mountain and its mysteries?"

Gomez caressed the side of her head. She took his hand and softly kissed the palm.

"This man, who kept his promise to a young girl until he found her, again? And despite all of her warnings, sought her out once more... What is this man, that has me utterly spellbound, mind and body?"

He kissed her, fiercely, pulling her onto his lap by her legs. His hand dragged up her body and moved part of her dress to her thigh, unmasking the smooth leg underneath. One arm suffocated her waist while his hand continued up to her breast. Morticia let her fingernails comb from his face down his neck, bringing a beastly sound from his throat that vibrated through her. It made her curious to see what other noises she could release from him. Using what strength she had, she slowly pulled away from the kiss, reluctant to release his lower lip from hers.

"You drive me wild..." He glared into her eyes, panting like a canine. She smiled, wickedly, resting her head against his.

"Could I drive you to answer my question?"

He chuckled, slightly flushed, and looked down at her leg in his lap, caressing her knee in circles. "I mean, I don't know, I... I'm just a man who likes a loud train wreck, a sharp rapier, and..." He noticed how her eyes were gripping at his every word. "A good mystery."

"Come now, Gomez..."

"What do you want from me, darling?" He laughed, again, running a hand through his hair. "My life has only been as long as yours. Went to law school for a bit, and now I'm on this mountain with an enchantress, so..." he shrugged and took her hand, planting a soft kiss on the back. "Que sera, sera."

"Law school?... So that's all, is that all you can tell me?"

"If you want a description of me, querida, you'll have to write it yourself. Because half my life I've spent concentrating on you."

"You're obsessed."

"Yes."

She looked away, bashfully, from his penetrating eyes. She drew small shapes in the dirt with her finger.

"What does that word mean?"

"What word?"

"The one you called me..."

"...Querida? Means dear in Spanish. I'm going to take you there." He kissed the side of her head.

"Take me where, Spain?" She looked up at him, questioningly.

"I'm going to take you everywhere." He smiled, squeezing her waist. He gazed, warmly, at the disbelief and thrill in her eyes. "Every corner of this Earth. What do you want to see?"

She turned away, her lips pursed. Her eyes darted about as if she were looking at an atlas in her mind.

"Well, Ophelia's always dreamt of seeing the ocean..."

"But you?"

"...I don't know. So many places. Everywhere. Anywhere but here."

"I'll take you. I'll take you to France, where you'll have no choice but to speak that delicious language." He nipped at her neck, pulling gasps and laughter from her.

"And to South America - to Kenya!"

"Yes, I'll buy you a lion." He pushed her on her back, gently moving on top of her. His lips latched onto her throat. She held his neck.

"Or just a little African Strangler..."

"A what? I don't care, I'll get you both."

Morticia cackled, moving her arms to rest above her head as his lips made love to the delicate fabric over her ribs. She sighed, languidly. He looked up at her and there was an expression of longing on her face while she gazed at the stars. His tone softened and his fingers tapped on her stomach.

"I mean it, you know. Every word. This is all entirely possible, Morticia... just come with me."

She looked at him with a distant smile. "I know. And I will. There's just some things I have to see to, first."

"Do you promise?"

She sat up and cupped his chin. "Gomez... I told you I want to bring you into my world. I would never put that kind of trust into just anyone. So yes, I promise you."

He moved closer to arrest her lips, once more, but she quickly interrupted.

"That reminds me, about your cemetery - why are Addamses so resented? I mean, that story about your Aunt..."

"Oh..." He shook his head, weeding around for the answer. He looked over at the bubbling swamp - it was silent without the hum of toads who were already deep in their hibernation. "Addamses have always broken the chains of conformity. And that unsettles people. And it doesn't always have to do with what we think or believe... Sometimes, you can simply walk into a room with one more head on your shoulders than everyone else, and you're instantly a threat. So I say, why not embrace that theory and just buy a canon?"

Morticia laughed, taking his hand in hers.

"It's what they expect, after all. And sometimes, having differences drives people mad - they can't understand it. Makes them violent. They can't go on coexisting with you, it's too much for them. So they'd rather do away with you," he touched her forehead, "and chisel down this world to fit inside their mind."

She looked at him, solemnly. "Well, I could've told you that."

"We're not so different, you and I," he said in the same brisk tone that he had the night of the party. Morticia smirked, pressing her hands to his. He made hers look so small.

"No, I suppose not... Come here." She stood and took his hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to the fire.

"What are you doing?" Gomez stared at her, amused.

"I am initiating you into my very own coven." She lowered herself to the ground, and began to draw a large circle around Gomez in the dirt. He watched her move around him, a mad grin on his face.

"Into your coven?" he laughed, "Isn't a coven supposed to be of just witches?"

"This is my coven. A family. It will start with us, we'll be the foundation. And we'll build it from there. Now concentrate. Feel the Earth under your feet." She stepped into the circle with him.

"Isn't there some sort of ritual for this?"

"I'm making my own." She raised his arms and pressed her hands to his, again. She closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose. Gomez looked at her steady face, feeling like he could explode from the growing adoration he had for this creature. He closed his eyes and listened to her voice.

"Today, we celebrate a fateful collision. Crossed paths, paved with curiosity and wonder. Let the power of two-times-two multiply, and bind together into a force of one. Let us create, heal, love... travel to Kenya."

They laughed together. Gomez stepped, closer, diminishing the gap between them. "Adopt a lion. And a Strangler."

"We'll have every animal. And every plant."

"And every instrument of torment from before the 15th century."

"Yes. And every freedom... I'll free my sister and mother, as well."

Gomez squeezed her hands, compassionately. She let go of him and began to sway, rhythmically, around the fire. Her arms glided about her as if she were taken by the wind. He watched, mesmerized.

"We'll dance and sing, celebrating our ancestors and keeping in touch with them. And we'll offer the same love to any outsider who needs it, for tyranny's child has not broken us yet. We'll show the world." She danced around him, her shadow cast from the firelight was like a giant amongst the trees. Her loose dress slipped off her shoulder as she moved, but she paid no mind.

"Let the Frumps join the Addamses... And gladly feast on those who would subdue us." She stopped in front of the fire and stretched her arms high above her ahead. She smiled, swaying lightly. She felt firm hands seize her stomach and satin lips graze her ear, tingling her spine.

"How about a Frump becoming an Addams?" He whispered. Morticia's arms fell to her sides and she stared into the fire. He kissed her bare shoulder while his hands explored her waist. Her eyes glazed over once his lips found her neck. She reached behind herself, between the two of them, and took hold of her dress zipper. Gomez stepped back and held his breath. His heart pounded as she turned around to face him.

For the second time that day, she let her dress fall to her feet.

She stood there, vulnerable, the flames rollicking behind her. Gomez took in the sight, unable to blink, or even swallow due to the sudden dryness of his mouth. He knelt down before her. He looked at her feet, his eyes slowly moving up to capture the entire length of her. She stared down at him with an overflowing tenderness. She knelt before him where they were face to face, and raised his arms to press her hands to his, once more. They found a mutual understanding in each other's eyes.

He enveloped her, lifting her off the ground and bringing her back to their nest of blankets. Laying her gently on her back, he noticed her breaths were long and steady, an attempt to soothe herself. He kissed her stomach, trailing slowly upward. His tongue occasionally met her flesh, what felt to her like a torch on her skin. Her desire overflowed by the time he reached her lips, and the word "please" was ceased by his mouth on hers. He looked at her underneath him - she was glistening, but trembled in suspense. Her skin so pale, it complemented the snow. She was splendid.

She touched his parted lips and memorized him. His glittering brown eyes, with flashes of orange reflecting the fire. His grin that made her believe every single thing was fine, whenever he wore it. Every inch of him was handsome. She could feel from the delicate shake in his arms that he was just as timid. And as he pressed a lock of her hair between his finger and thumb, moving it from the side of her face so carefully - she was sure she would never be this happy, again.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered against her forehead.

"I am. I love it."