A/N: This one kind of pushes the T rating to its limits, but there's really nothing graphic. My sister wished aloud that the tenant of the apartment below hers would take his girlfriend to a hotel room so she could sleep, and this is where my mind went. ^_^"

I own Brian and Lucy, for whatever that's worth, but no-one else.

"Brian...Brian!"

"Oh, Lucy..."

A scream, high and piercing, echoed through the apartment building. Brian Stephenson sighed heavily and let himself fall to the bed beside his latest one-night stand.

"I'm going to kill them. I really am," he muttered under his breath. Lucy propped herself up on one elbow, green eyes wide.

"Brian? What was that?" she asked breathlessly.

He sat up and looked down at her. "The loser upstairs has a girlfriend who just turned legal. For like a week, they've-"

"Pull it tighter!"

The buxom blonde stared at the ceiling, her eyebrows rising in shock. "What..." she began, but trailed off, listening to the increasingly strange sounds from above. Brian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Look, this is tame. Two nights ago, it sounded like someone was throwing knives at the wall."

Lucy shot him a disbelieving look. "Lots of people do, you know, target practice, Brian."

"Not with those kind of noises," he said, snorting.

For a few seconds, the silence was only interrupted by moans and occasional shrieks from the upstairs apartment. But after one particularly ominous crack!, Brian shoved back the covers and stood. As the college quarterback groped around for his pants, Lucy scooted awkwardly to the edge of the bed.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"Upstairs," came the curt reply. "Try and get those weirdos to be considerate."

To his surprise, Apartment B-12's door opened at the third knock. So abruptly, in fact, that his fist nearly struck a tall, skinny young man in a rumpled bathrobe.

"Can I help you?" the tenant asked, with an expression that said he'd like nothing less.

This is the guy? But Brian was a man on a mission; pushing his thoughts aside, he attempted his best "don't mess with me" expression.

"Yeah. Would it kill you and your kinky-ass girlfriend to...get a..."

Brian's eyes traced the slow trickle of blood down the exposed skin of the man's chest, and the speech he'd rehearsed in the stairwell died on his lips. B-12 Guy, seeming to notice his gaze, looked down at himself.

"Um. You're- you're bleeding," Brian stammered. The neighbor slowly looked back up, a slight, odd smile on his face.

"Yes, I'm bleeding. And hey, if it's not too much trouble, could you let me get back to that? My girlfriend just got a broadsword by mail-order, and," -he leaned forward slightly and winked at Brian- "you know how women are with new toys."

For once in his life, the quarterback was honestly speechless. He began to back away, all thoughts of criticism replaced by the impulse to flee, but stopped when another figure appeared in the doorway of B-12.

"Lucas, what's going on?"

Oh, you've got to be kidding me. The guy, fine, he'd believe almost anything of his own gender, but this? Brian almost laughed. The woman now standing beside- Lucas?- was about average height and slender, with large, heavy-lidded eyes. Her dark, chin-length hair was considerably mussed; combined with a black silk robe, the overall picture was one of a young woman he'd have tried to take home any night.

Until, that is, he noticed two important things. One, that angry red marks circled her pale wrists. And two, that she was giving him a look he usually associated with opposing linebackers.

Lucas turned to look at her. "Wednesday, this is my downstairs neighbor, Brian Stephenson." He faced Brian again. "Brian, this is Wednesday Addams, my- what was it? Oh, right: 'kinky-ass' girlfriend."

"What?"

And it was at that moment that Brian noticed Thing Three: something long and glinting around which the girl's fingers now tightened until her knuckles went red. The bit of the conversation concerning broadswords suddenly echoed loudly in his mind.

"Um, you know what?" he stammered, backing towards the stairs, "Forget it. Sorry to bother you." Groping frantically at the door behind him, Brian finally found the handle, yanked it, and was gone.

Lucas walked back into the apartment and shut the door behind him.

"Di, you're scaring the neighbors again."

Wednesday ran an experimental thumb along the edge of the sword. "Care to scare them some more?"

"It's like you read my mind," he replied with a grin.

For Brian and Lucy, it was a very long night.

A/N: Just in case anyone was wondering, updates are only this frequent because:

A. I'm still on winter break, and
B. I'd forgotten just how little there is to do in my hometown.

In two weeks, I will resume having a life. Until then... *pets MS Word lovingly*