A/N: *singing* Double the updates, double the fun- Eryn doesn't have any classes!
Yes, thanks to some scheduling kerfuffle here at my illustrious university, I have an open day ahead of me. And clearly, the right thing to do with a free day is not homework, but WxL drabbling. :D
EDIT (February 17, 2013): A lot about my personal headcanon has changed since I wrote this; most notably, it's no longer just mine anymore. While this is a good thing, it's also resulted in some facts changing. Ergo, if you've read this chapter before, you might notice some retcons. I tried to leave the basic plot the same, though.
Lucas Beineke was facing the Inquisition.
There was no torture, not yet- that would come from different quarters, if he failed to answer the question. Only one, deceptively simple question, but everything hung on his reply. An incorrect response could send him to a fate worse than death.
His inquisitor stared up at him, brown eyes wide with expectation. She twisted her hands in the pockets of her black pinafore.
"Well, Father? Where do babies come from?"
He sighed, kneeling down to meet his daughter's gaze.
"They- they come from inside the mother," he replied. It was a desperate gamble. Nell was too much like her mother to be satisfied with an incomplete answer, but he had to try.
"Oh." The six-year-old's brow wrinkled. Lucas braced himself for the inevitable.
"But how do they get inside the mother?"
He glanced up at the ceiling, spiderwebbed with cracks, and silently prayed for a chunk of it to come loose. Or for a muffled thud from anywhere else inside the house. Anything that would require immediate attention. But for once, as if mocking him, the crumbling Victorian remained silent.
There was nothing else for it. "Well, when a man and a woman- or, really it can be any two people, but only a man and a woman can make a baby- when a man and a woman love each other very much…or, sometimes when they just want to have some fun, not that it's always fun, but generally…" He trailed off.
"You know what, Nell? I think this is a question for your mother."
As he watched her walk away, brown curls bouncing, he hoped Wednesday was in a good mood.
"…and then the egg is fertilized, and nine months later, the woman has a baby."
Nell sat silently for a moment, swinging her little legs against the back of the garden bench.
"Did you and Father do that?" she asked finally.
Wednesday finished tying the poison ivy vine to its stake. "Yes. That's why you're here."
"Do…do you still do it?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"When you're asleep or at your grandparents' house."
The little girl lapsed into silence again, mulling over the new information. If Mother and Father did this thing called sex, and sex between a man and a woman made babies, then…
"Am I going to have a new brother or sister?" Her eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect.
Wednesday stared quietly at the poisonous vines for a minute. "Not in the immediate future," she finally replied.
"Oh." The little shoulders slumped. "But if sex makes babies, and you and Father still have sex, then…"
Her mother sighed and gathered up the gardening tools. Taking Nell by the hand, she began to lead her back inside.
"This is a conversation for another day. Let's go get you packed."
Lucas stared at his daughter, openmouthed and not entirely trusting his ears.
"What did you say?"
"Have fun sex," Nell repeated. She shifted her grip on Morticia's hand; the older woman, for her part, seemed to be fighting back laughter.
Wednesday bit her lip and hurriedly pressed a small suitcase into the six-year-old's other hand.
"Nell, that's not something you say to people," she muttered, pressing a kiss to her daughter's cheek. "Now go on. Tell Uncle Pugsley I said to sleep with one eye open."
As she straightened up, her mother pulled her into a one-armed embrace.
"Had a little mother-daughter chat recently?" Morticia whispered. The knowing amusement in her tone made Wednesday's fists clench.
"Maybe."
Releasing her daughter, the Addams matriarch turned to the child at her side. "Come along, Nell; Lurch is waiting in the car."
The door creaked shut behind them, and Wednesday stood sheepishly, waiting for her husband to say something. It was only a matter of time- she wanted to get the humiliation over as quickly as possible.
"You told her?"
And there it was.
She looked back at him, faintly confused. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"
Lucas ran a hand through his hair. "For heaven's sake, Wednesday, she's only six!"
"I was five," she deadpanned.
The surprise on his face became even more ill-concealed, and he weakly said, "You were?"
"Yes."
"W-well, that was different," he spluttered. "Your parents are all over each other, constantly, even in front of company. We're not like that."
"You sent her to ask me," she retorted, closing the distance between them with a few angry steps. "What did you expect? I don't believe in keeping children ignorant."
Lucas held her gaze indignantly for a moment and then sighed, his face falling.
"You're right; I'm sorry. I should have known you wouldn't give her the stork explanation."
Wednesday blinked at him. "Stork? Where does a stork enter into it?"
Her husband took her hand, fighting valiantly not to laugh, and began to lead her toward the stairs.
"Well, there's this legend that when a mommy and a daddy want to have a baby, they send a letter to this stork…"
A/N: And, per information just received by review, a very happy birthday to Gleefully Wicked! I would send you a gift-wrapped Lucas, but they're still out of stock, so accept good wishes instead. :)