An Addams Family Genesis

by TamarawTinay

This is my take on how Morticia and Gomez met and got married. Please review my work, I'd really appreciate that. And if you have any suggestions as to how you want the story to go, please let me know, maybe we can work that out. Enjoy! :D ***I do not own the original Addams Family characters (Charles Addams does).***

10. Chapter 10: Yes!

Hello guys! Here is Chapter 10 (FINALLY!) I am sorry it took me so long to finish this. I had several days of writer's block, so even though I already have the outline of this chapter, it was hard for me to construct it. This chapter is quite long, I had too much fun writing. I added a bit of non-related narrative because I cannot think of topics for Morticia and Gomez's conversations. To be frank, thinking up of something for them to talk about is the hardest part for me, so if you have ideas, just let me know. Enjoy!

*** I edited the ending of this chapter ***

---

The next day, the moment Morticia opened her eyes, Ophelia's blatant narration of hers and Christian's delicious excursion flooded back to her unwilling mind. She immediately closed her eyes and tried to erase the memory, but of course, she was unsuccessful. Deciding not to see a glimpse of her sister, in fear that she might have left out a detail and tell it to her excitedly, Morticia got up from bed and prepared for her class, three hours earlier than usual.

She did not even bother to boil water for her morning tea, in her hurry to escape Ophelia. With her hair still damp from shower, she braided it in two plaits and took random clothes from her closet. Barely an hour passed and Morticia was clad in midnight blue smock that stopped at her knees and fishnet stockings under a pair of black, high-top sneakers. She shouldered her bag and effortlessly sneaked out of the house.

When she opened the front door, she came face to face with a fist ready to knock on the previously shut door. The fist dropped and Morticia saw that it belonged to no other than Gomez Addams.

Relief washed over her and she flung her arms around his neck. "Oh, thank goodness, Gomez!" she breathed on his shoulder.

Though quite taken aback, he put a free hand on her back and patted her consolingly. "What's wrong?"

"Ophelia…" Morticia weakly replied.

"What happened to Ophelia?" Gomez asked worriedly.

She lifted her head to look Gomez in the eyes, though she didn't seem to actually see him. "She… Christian… last night… it…" she replied incoherently. Morticia shuddered under his hold and again buried her head on his shoulder. "Ugh!"

His eyes widened in shock. Of all things, this was not what he had at mind. But before he could say anything else, Morticia pulled back from her embrace and looked at him with a strange look in her eyes.

She realized that she jumped onto him unceremoniously. "I'm sorry…" she whispered.

He smiled. "It's alright."

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I brought breakfast," he replied, holding out a paper bag from his other hand. "I was up early and I decided to drop by, hoping to see you."

She returned his smile with one she reserved especially for him. "But I do not eat breakfast."

"I have tea," he suggested. "And stale bread."

Her smile widened. "Those I would have."

"Good," Gomez replied with a boyish grin. "Shall we have them inside your house?"

"No," she replied, a bit more forceful than intended. Her smile was lost. She changed tack and spoke softly. "I mean, no. Anywhere but here…"

He smiled again to encourage her to bring back her smile. "Anywhere but here, it is." He offered her his free hand. Together they went to his car and left.

---

Gomez parked a few meters from a ledge. He helped Morticia out of the car and led her to the edge of the outcrop.

"Would you be comfortable to sit here?" he asked.

Morticia smiled at him strangely. "Yes, but you would have to help me sit down." She held out her hand, which Gomez took. Gingerly, she crouched down and let her legs dangle over the ledge as she settled on the ground.

When he was certain that she won't fall over, Gomez returned to his Duisenberg to retrieve the paper bag carrying the breakfast he brought. He settled next to her, crossing one leg under the other, which was hanging by the outcrop of land they were sitting on. He took out an insulated tumbler and handed it to Morticia. She took it, slightly opened the lid and took a sniff.

"Henbane," she commented with a slight smile. "You remembered."

"I made it an obligation to remember everything I could about you," he replied, flashing her a boyish grin.

"Would you like to take a sip?" Morticia offered before drinking.

"No, thank you," Gomez replied. He held out another insulated tumbler for her to see. "Civet coffee."

"The most expensive coffee in the world," she commented as she took a sip of her tea. "Interesting."

"By some reason, there are a few Asian palm civets loitering back at home. And you know what happens when they just loiter," he said. He offered her his tumbler. "Would you like to taste it?"

"Thank you, but I would rather not. I am not really fond of coffees," she replied, taking another sip of her tea. "There must be a nearby coffee plantation from your house for them to be around your property."

"I have no idea… but aren't they supposed to be in Asia only? I mean, that was why they were called Asian palm civets, right?" he asked. He took a stale bread from the paper bag and handed it to Morticia. "I might have not burnt some parts of it."

She turned the bread on her hands and spotted a still pale part on the bread. "Yes, you missed this spot. It's alright, though," she said tearing a piece and popping it in her mouth. "Someone must have brought a pair or more of the civets from South or Southeast Asia."

He took a bite of the bread, thinking deeply. Then he snapped his fingers. "Of course! My cousin Perkasa was from Indonesia. He must be the one who brought the animals here when he visited three years ago."

For a while, Morticia and Gomez ate in a comfortable silence, both of them staring at the expanse of land underneath the ledge they were sitting on. Morticia was about to comment on the view when Gomez spoke up.

"What happened earlier?" he cautiously asked. He looked sideways at her, trying to gauge her reaction. She likewise looked at him sideways, her eyes hesitant.

She shook her head. "I would spare you the details… they are just too… Maybe we can talk about something else. Like, perhaps your relationship with your brother before things got…"

"I would like to know more about you," he interrupted.

She frowned. "What about me?"

"Everything I can know about you. For example, your relationship with your sister."

"Twin sister, actually."

"Really? Now that is hard to believe…" he commented rather tactlessly. Upon realizing what he just said by receiving a strange look from her, he added, "I mean… you dress differently, you behave differently, and she's blonde."

"Of all the things about Ophelia, the color of her hair registered to you as the most disturbing," she commented with an amused smile.

Gomez swallowed hard. He took a cigar from his breast pocket and put it in his mouth. Morticia watched with interest as he took a long huff from the unlit cigar and puff out spirals of smoke. The end of the cigar was burning like a charcoal, as though it was lighted for several minutes already.

"How do you do that?" she asked, interestedly.

He thought for a minute before shrugging. "I don't know. I just can."

"Oh… But going back to my sister…" she pressed on, smiling at him in a rather adorable manner that he could not resist.

"Well… she's blonde," he repeated, sounding silly even to him.

"Yes, and my eyes are blue," she sighed sadly. She raised her tumbler to her lips and took a sip. "There are just things in life that you cannot escape."

"I like your eyes," he said as he puffed out another cloud of smoke.

She looked at him strangely. "You do?"

"Very much," he replied, looking deeply into her eyes.

"But I don't…" she replied quietly.

"Why?"

"They make me look like just the other people,"

"No, they don't," he countered. He shifted to directly face her with one of his legs tucked under him and the other hanging over the cliff. "They separate you from other."

"But they are blue," she insisted stubbornly. "Just like Natalie's and her friends."

"Who is Natalie?"

"Gomez!" she reprimanded softly, a hesitant smile forming on her lips.

"I just want to see you smile. I like your smile," he replied, smiling back at her. "Just like how I am fond of your eyes. Even if they're blue."

"Why?"

"Because they are the most striking feature of your face, they stand out. They make you noticeable," he said truthfully. He tossed his still-lit cigar over the cliff to focus solely on Morticia. "When you are with other people who also have blue eyes, you still stand out because the way your eyes are blue."

"What do you mean?" she asked. Despite herself, she could not take away her eyes from Gomez's gaze; it felt as if there was a magnet that was attracting her to look into his hazel eyes.

"Your eyes are not the usual blue. They are as blue as the waters surrounding glaciers, and as cold as well."

"But not to you," she softly countered.

"Not to me," he agreed. He slowly leaned forward to her. His face was inches from hers when he hesitated and stopped, thinking that it was improper for him to kiss her just yet. She agreed to let him court her, but they are not a couple yet. Instead, he tucked her loose hair behind her ear. He smiled tenderly at her and she returned it. Gomez felt as if her smile was meant to say thank you.

"Are you and your sister close?" he asked, straightening up. He took his tumbler and sipped before pulling another cigar from his jacket.

"Yes," Morticia replied, sitting up straightly as well. "She and our father are the only people who do not flinch on the sight of me. We rarely see our relatives and I am mostly cooped up inside the house."

"And your mother?"

"My mother is the person who visibly winces at my presence. She detests me."

"Perhaps –"

"Perhaps I am exaggerating?" she asked almost sarcastically. "I wish I am." She sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, pain was coursing that even Gomez felt it. "She and her sister, Esther, were both witches. Aunt Esther was very exploratory; she wanted to learn the extent of potion making. One night in Salem University, one of her concoctions blew up. Apparently, blood of gutted snake and cyanide should not be mixed with milk and sugar… she died and my mother was emotionally scarred. Since then, she stopped practicing witchcraft and hated everything that was not… 'normal'.

"They say I look just like Aunt Esther. It became evident when I was growing up that I have the makings of a witch. And when I learned what witches are, I decided that I wanted to be one – I still want to become one.

"My mother tried everything to 'normalize' me, but I never liked any clothing dyed in colors other than black or deep purple or midnight blue or maroon. Upon realizing that I was following the footsteps of her sister, she started ignoring me in every way. When she would see me, her eyes would narrow with anger. My father told me to try to understand where my mother was coming from, why she was hesitant to let me become who I really am, but I just cannot. I am not her sister.

"And when I told her that I was accepted for Witchcraft in Salem, she almost sent me away from home. My father and Ophelia convinced me to come here instead, fulfill my mother's wishes with the condition that I will go to Salem University or in Transylvania University afterwards. Of course, Mother was not happy," she finished. She did not notice that she was staring into the horizon and that her eyes were tearful. She tried to smile and made a small joke, "And now I am crying for some reason."

He handed her a handkerchief. "You're hurt," he simply said in a low voice.

She took a deep breath and looked straight into his eyes. "Yes, I am. Because my mother hates me for what her sister did. She is angry at her sister for dying and leaving her alone, and she is lashing out her anger to me, given what I want to be," Her voice cracked. "I am hurt because my mother does not love me for what I am," she finished as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. Gomez moved closer to her and pulled her into a consoling embrace. He held her on his chest as he rubbed her shoulders soothingly.

Morticia cried freely on his chest, ignoring everything and finding an inexplicable comfort in his arms. She buried her head into his suit jacket, relinquishing eighteen years of misery and pain. They were locked in an embrace for what seemed like forever, by the ledge, overviewing the city's dump and landfill.

"Though I hate seeing you cry, let all the pain you are feeling flow out of you," Gomez said in a soothing voice as he run his hand on her shoulders. Her reply was muffled through her tears. "I'm sorry?" he asked.

She lifted her head to look at him. She sniffed. "I said I do not understand why I broke down in front of you, of all people. Even my sister does not know."

He smiled slightly. "Well, I am honored to be your crying shoulder. It just pains me to see you this morose."

"To be honest, Gomez, you make me do things I have never done before," she said. She pulled away from his embrace, though rather reluctantly. She dabbed her eyes with his handkerchief. "I will return this to you after I launder it."

"Keep it," he waved a hand dismissively. "I did not notice that I made you do things you do not want to do, my apologies for committing such ungentlemanly acts."

"Your apologies are unnecessary." She placed a gentle hand over his. "That was not what I meant. I meant showing… emotions to other people, to put things simply. You made me laugh, your presence allowed me to cry… and I feel comfortable about it," Morticia admitted. She pulled away her hand from his and placed it on her lap. She looked down and fiddled with his handkerchief.

"You are not the only one who does things he normally doesn't," Gomez replied. He touched her chin and made her look at him. He smiled at her and she smiled, rather shyly, back.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she said, breaking away from his lovely stare. She gestured towards the landfill below. "This is such a beautiful place. It certainly brought my thoughts away from my sister."

"It is, isn't it?" he agreed. He stood up and went to his car to fetch something. He was sitting down next to her before she noticed that he had gone. "It is my pleasure," he said, handing her a single, long stemmed, thorny, red rose.

She took it and again, smiled shyly at him. "Thank you, Gomez. This is very sweet of you," she whispered as she eyed the bloom of the flower. "I must say, this is the first moment I actually am fond of a rose's bloom."

"Don't you usually like them?" he asked curiously.

"Not usually," she replied. "I prefer the thorns over the blooms."

"You can still cut the bloom off that rose," he said. By some reason her penchant was appealing to him.

"Not this one," she said. She glanced at him and smiled. "This is a special rose, I will not cut if off."

He returned her smile before looking down at his pocket watch. "Shall we go?" he asked reluctantly.

"Go?" she repeated. She glanced up the sky and realized what the time was. "Already?" she murmured. "I suppose so."

He once again stood up and held out a hand for her to help her up. She took his proffered hand and tried to stand. However, her foot slipped and she almost fell over the ledge. Without batting an eyelid, Gomez pulled her away just in time, thanks to his quick reflexes.

"Thank you," she said, her voice small with shock. "I cannot imagine what might have happened if you were not here."

"I was frightened as well for a moment. I thought I might lose you," he replied. He walked away from the edge of the cliff, still holding her closely. He only released her when they reached the Duisenberg. He opened the car door for her and she slipped inside. After closing the door, he walked to the driver's side of the car and climbed inside. He started the engine. "But don't worry, I will always be here for you."

The drive back was quick, compared to the drive on their way to the edge of the cliff overlooking the landfill. Gomez was driving quite haphazardly, but Morticia did not mind. She was staring lovingly at the rose he gave her, marveling on its beauty and wondering why she missed it whenever she cuts the heads off roses. She was also processing what he told her and the extent of her emotions for him, by what she allowed herself to do in front of him. With a smile, she understood what she had to do.

Not a few moments later, they reached the Literature Building. They both climbed out the car and he walked with her to her classroom, just outside the door.

"Will I see you tonight?" she hopefully asked.

"And tomorrow night, and the night after that," he replied with a boyish smile. She smiled back and leaned forward on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. With a swish of her braids, she opened the door of the classroom, leaving Gomez standing dazed outside. Inside, Mr. Belch was already writing on the white board and the rest of the class had their books opened on top of their desks.

Before she could apologize for her tardiness, Natalie's voice rang out. "Professor Belch?" she called.

"Yes, Miss Peterson?" Mr. Belch replied, straightening up and turning to face her.

"Morticia Frump is late, Professor Belch," Natalie said as she flashed Morticia a smug smile. "I believe that she just came from a date, given the rose in her hands."

Mr. Belch turned to Morticia and smiled at her softly. "We hardly started, Miss Frump, you may take your seat beside Miss Munster. And I must say, that rose is rather lovely."

"It is," agreed Morticia, returning his smile. "Thank you, Mr. Belch." She crossed the room and walked towards Phoebe, who was also smiling at her. As she passed Natalie and her friends' desks, Morticia could not help herself from giving them the same smug look Natalie just gave her. "Right back at you," she whispered.

Natalie narrowed her eyes and eyed Morticia with irritation. She looked at her and Phoebe and eavesdropped at their conversation.

"Gomez?" Phoebe simply asked.

Before replying, Morticia stared out of the window where she saw Gomez climbing inside his Duisenberg. She faced her friend and smiled happily. "Yes."

---

"Where are we having our free period?" Phoebe asked as she and Morticia left the after their third class ended.

"Anywhere but away from Ophelia," Morticia whispered back. As they were about to step out of the room, Natalie and her friends blocked their path.

Phoebe sighed exasperatedly. "What now, Natalie?"

"Let her be, Phoebe," Morticia softly said to prevent any ruckus.

"Yes, let me be, Phoebe," Natalie agreed mockingly. "Let me be the one to take Morticia's rose." She extended a hand to snatch the flower Morticia was holding, but Morticia slapped her hand away.

"Don't you dare," she said threateningly. She glared murderously at Natalie.

"Anything else, Natalie?" Phoebe asked in a mock sweetness. "Move. Come along, Morticia."

With Phoebe leading, they brushed past them. "What's with Ophelia?" she asked to stir Morticia's wrath away. She looked sideways and saw her holding the rose Gomez gave her tightly and protectively. She watched her friend close her eyes and take a deep breath to calm herself.

"Let us just sit under that big oak tree, Ophelia will not see us there," Morticia said. "I suppose you brought something to eat with you?"

"I always do, you know that," Phoebe answered as they sat on the ground. "What is going on?" she insisted, her voice very curious.

"After I tell you, I believe that you will not be as curious as you are now," Morticia warned. She placed the rose on her lap and looked at Phoebe with a pallid look on her face.

"No…" Phoebe said in a low voice, her eyes wide in shock.

"What do you have in mind?" Morticia asked, raising an eyebrow, challenging her friend.

"She ate a chocolate cake?" Phoebe suggested meekly.

"If only it was that simple," Morticia replied, shaking her head.

"Please don't tell me that what I really have in mind is not what happened," pleaded Phoebe. She shifted from her seat and stared at Morticia with begging eyes.

Morticia closed her eyes and spoke up, "Ophelia and Christian did it already."

"Ugh, my thoughts were right!" Phoebe replied as she buried her head on her hands. "No details please?"

"You asked what is going on, Phoebe. I will tell you what is going on."

"No, please?"

"No… according to her, it was delicious. Extremely exhausting and hot but definitely delicious. They were both perspiring while they were doing the deed. They were not even prepared; they had to go to a nearby store to purchase supplies. Thank goodness, she did not go to the specifics as to what they bought. And I quote my dear sister, 'It was harder than I thought!'"

"Enough, Morticia…"

"'And when he let me taste it, it was the sweetest thing that I've ever had. I cannot believe I haven't tried that earlier in my life! And I have to thank Christian for giving me such pleasure. I want another one right now!'"

"She didn't explain everything in detail…"

"She did."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

"But the worst was –"

"There could be worst than what I just heard and what she told you directly?"

"'We should try it sometime, sister. Or perhaps, you and Gomez should.'"

"I think I will be sick,"

"You do look a little green, Phoebe," Morticia joked subtly.

"Really? Your sis –" Phoebe stopped speaking upon realizing Morticia's joke. She threw a wadded up paper from her bag to her. "Of course I look a little green, I am a banshee!"

The two of them burst out laughing uncontrollably. When they finally calmed down, the both of them were partially covered with grass glades.

"That was my first joke," Morticia said, wiping off the tears from her eyes.

"It was good. Although at my expense," admitted Phoebe. "I cannot believe Ophelia gave you such gory details."

"Had I not walked out, I am sure she would have launched into finer details," Morticia replied. "She said she was letting me know because we are twins."

"But what they did is extremely personal," countered Phoebe. "And she actually invited you to do it together!"

"Oh, please, do not remind me about that. That was the most disturbing thing she said," Morticia said as she started brushing off her clothes. "I was not even able to tell her about Gomez."

"She is definitely out of her mind," Phoebe said. "Much like you about Gomez. You nearly tore Natalie into pieces earlier."

"I like him," Morticia admitted with confidence and a radiant smile. "But I would not do what Ophelia did."

"What, the deed?"

"I am not thinking doing that, not this early. And that was not what I meant, either. I meant that if… when I do the deed, I will not let her know. Most certainly that I will not tell her the details."

"But would you tell me?"

"Would you tell me about yours?"

Before either of them could reply, they looked straight at each other's eyes. They said in unison, "No."

"But what is happening between you and Gomez?"

Morticia smiled at the mention of his name. "He took me out to dinner last night. We talked about our pasts and… I permitted him to court me."

"That is wonderful, Morticia! Finally!" Phoebe exclaimed. She moved closer to her friend. "I told you he is not a witch hunter."

"Yes, he is not. He actually found nothing odd about me being a witch."

"That is because there is nothing odd about being a witch."

"But… he broke his family,"

Phoebe narrowed her eyes at Morticia's statement. However, she did not probe, which made Morticia relieved for she could not tell just anyone about Gomez's past. It was not hers to share. "And does it bother you?"

"Not in the way I should be bothered."

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps I should be wary about his tendency of hurting those close to him, but I am not," Morticia said slowly. "I am concerned about how broken he is because of what he did."

"You really adore him, don't you?" Phoebe asked, her eyes twinkling with fascination. "I am happy for you."

"Thank you," Morticia said softly. "You know, recently, most of the things I say included saying 'thank you'. I never knew I was capable of simple kindness."

"You never said 'thank you' before?" Phoebe asked. She frowned as she tried to understand what her friend just said.

"I have never received compliments that would require me to say that," Morticia replied. She frowned, remembering her childhood. "My mother was not pleasant to me as she was to Ophelia."

"I am sorry…" Phoebe whispered. She looked beyond Morticia and said, "Speaking of Ophelia…"

"Please do not tell me she is here," Morticia requested in a defeated tone.

"She is," Phoebe replied, giving a small wave towards the direction of Ophelia.

"How could she have seen us here?" Morticia asked irritated. She grunted under her breath. She dusted herself off and stood up, Phoebe copied her. "Let us leave," Morticia muttered.

"Oh, there you are!" Ophelia's shrill voice rang out, further irritating Morticia, who brushed past her, scowling. "Morticia!" she called out, following her sister. However, Phoebe took hold of her by the arm to stop her. "What?"

"Don't," Phoebe simply said, shaking her head.

"Why? What's with her?" Ophelia asked. She and Phoebe watched while Morticia's figure grew smaller as she walked away from them. "She's been like that last night."

"Well, last night…" Phoebe started but Ophelia interrupted her.

"All I told her was that –"

"I know! You do not have to tell me," Phoebe exclaimed with much force than intended, to stop hearing in firsthand what happened. She had enough details from Morticia.

"And what is wrong if I told her what happened? It was completely innocent!" Ophelia cried out indignantly, her shrill voice becoming even shriller.

"Uh, Ophelia, I would never call that innocent," Phoebe softly said.

"What? It was just a simple –" Ophelia countered.

"Just, let her cool off, would you?" interrupted Phoebe as she was not eager to know how simple the happenings the night before was. "Bye, Ophelia." Taking big strides, Phoebe was away from the frustrated Ophelia. She had to jog to finally catch up with Morticia.

However, before she could say something, they almost walked over Gomez. In her fury, Morticia did not even notice him until he walked with them and spoke up to Phoebe.

"Phoebe, what happened?" he asked, concern etched in his face.

"Gomez!" Morticia exclaimed, her ire instantly evaporating at the sight of him.

"Ophelia," Phoebe simply replied. She turned to Morticia. "Now that I know that you are in good hands, I will leave you. Just make sure that your anger would be gone by next period. Though it would be enjoyable for me to watch, I doubt that Miss Clavell would appreciate it if you would rip Natalie's head off the moment you step into the classroom." Without much further ado, she was gone, leaving Morticia gaping at the space she previously occupied.

"Well, your friend certainly is elusive at my presence," Gomez commented with amusement, eyeing Phoebe's retreating figure.

"She very much prefers your presence," Morticia replied a bit distractedly. "Except that she prefers your presence when Ophelia is also around. They fancy you, haven't you noticed?" she asked, her voice mangled with a mixture of amusement and the slightest hint of jealousy.

He narrowed his eyes on her, as he sensed the latter emotion in her voice. "I never notice other things with you around, you see," he said by way of explanation. He furthered flattering her as they started walking to the same direction Phoebe disappeared into. "Your beauty, and your presence as a whole, is quite distracting."

She huffed gracefully and rolled her eyes to express exasperation, though the slight blush on the apples of her cheeks were conveying a different message. She smiled shyly at him. "Stop flattering me, Gomez. It won't bring you anywhere."

"Won't it?" he teased with a boyish grin he reserved especially for her.

"Stop that, Gomez," she whispered, though sounding very much amused.

"As long as you will answer my question," he replied, sobering slightly.

"What question?" she asked warily, her eyes narrowed. She stopped walking to face him.

"The one I am about to ask right now," he said softly, halting his steps as well. "Why were you irate?"

"Oh, that… well," she shrugged and continued walking. Gomez followed her. "Just like what Phoebe said, Ophelia," she simply said. She glanced sideways at him and saw that he was patiently waiting for her to continue her explanation. She shrugged again. "I told Phoebe to go to a place where Ophelia cannot bother us so that I can tell her what happened. However, Ophelia found us, and, well, I am just not ready to see her."

"And that irritated you…" he supplied.

"I suppose so,"

"Morticia?"

"Yes?" she smiled slightly at the sound of her name coming out of his lips.

"Why won't you tell me what Ophelia and Christian did?" he quietly asked.

"You are one curious man, aren't you?" she amusedly asked. "Gomez, please do not think that I am keeping the information from you because I do not trust you. It is just that, I am embarrassed for my sister. And I would really rather not have you hear it."

"Try me," he insisted. He looked at her with pleading eyes.

"Oh, Gomez Addams! You are difficult to refuse to!" she chided, chuckling at his expression. "Alright, I will tell you snippets of what they did. But always remember that I warned you not just once."

"That bad, huh?" he asked.

"Perhaps," she replied, amusement evident in her face. "Ophelia said that it was the most delicious thing she ever tasted."

"She did not," he commented, completely horrified. Apparently, it was not how he imagined Ophelia to describe what happened.

She smirked at him wickedly and continued, emphasizing on key words. "She said that it was harder than she imagined. They were sweating with heat."

"No more, please?" he begged, this time, however, his pleading was real.

Morticia laughed heartily. He smiled at her laugh, though he looked quite disgusted with what he heard. "You are just like Phoebe, pleading for information but beseeching me to stop." Inside, she was pleased that he asked her to end her narration, for she was not willing to divulge Ophelia's last statement.

"But then, what did Phoebe meant by ripping someone's head off?" he asked, clearly desiring to change to subject. She chuckled at this.

"Natalie's head?" she asked, smiling amusedly. "Well, to simplify things, Natalie attempted to take the rose you gave me."

"And?"

"And I told her not to,"

"Just like that?"

"Just like that,"

"Hmmm. I doubt that it was just like that, given how Phoebe put it,"

"Believe me, Gomez, I just told her 'Don't.'"

"And you were angry?"

"To put it lightly, yes."

"I see…" he finally said, looking quite pleased.

They continued walking, though this time, in silence. As they neared the building where Morticia's next class would be held, Gomez asked another question.

"Do you still want to go to Salem University?"

"Quite a sudden question, Gomez. I wonder where that came from," she commented, before thinking about his question. "Yes, I still do. Very much, in fact," she said after a moment. "Why?"

"Just a thought," he said, a hint of sadness marring his handsome voice. "Given a chance, would you go to Salem University immediately?"

"Yes, I have always dreamt of coming to Salem," she replied straightaway. She took a single look at Gomez and immediately realized the purpose of his questions. She smiled slightly. "But perhaps, not at the moment."

"When then?" he asked, the sadness still present in his voice.

She shrugged. "Next year, I suppose."

"Why, though?" he asked again in the same tone.

"Well, I cannot just go with you here, can I?" she replied, raising an eyebrow. He looked at her, and much like a Christmas tree, his face lit up.

"Really?"

"I think it would be splendid to have you accompany me, wouldn't it?" she smiled at him before standing on the tips of her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. Before he could react on her statement or on her kiss, she turned around to enter the building for her next class.

"I suppose it would be," he agreed, stunned by the course of events.

---

"It would have been better if their deaths were more gruesome," Morticia was saying to Phoebe as they made their way out of their last class.

"It wouldn't have been romantic if Romeo and Juliet's deaths were gruesome," Phoebe contradicted.

"Oh, I suppose so. But really, the novel did not appeal to me," Morticia replied. "It was really quite imprudent to kill yourself because of the death of your lover."

"Was it, really?" Phoebe asked, frowning at Morticia. "Wouldn't you do that?"

"I believe so. My lover would not want me to lose my life because he lost his, would he?" Morticia answered. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder.

"I wouldn't know," Phoebe said, shrugging. She looked ahead and saw Gomez standing on the opposite end of the hallway. "But you would. You can ask your lover."

"What are you talking about?" Morticia asked, frowning and smiling in disbelief. "I do not have –"

"Don't you?" Phoebe questioned, nodding her head towards Gomez's direction. Morticia followed her gaze and smiled. "Don't you?" Phoebe repeated teasingly.

"Oh, shush, Phoebe," Morticia replied, smiling despite herself.

"Phone me, wouldn't you?" Phoebe requested as she started to walk away from Morticia and Gomez, who was approaching.

"In the dead of the night?" Morticia hissed.

"Yes," Phoebe nodded. "Unless you'd want to come over to my house?"

"I do not even know where you live," Morticia said, confused by her invitation.

"Call me then," Phoebe replied, waving merrily at Gomez through piercing glare.

"No choice then," Morticia murmured under her breath. She turned and smiled at Gomez, who just stepped in front of her. "Hello," she said.

"Hello," he replied, returning her smile. He nodded at the general direction where Phoebe disappeared into. "What was that about?"

"She just didn't want to interrupt," she answered.

"Oh, I brought this for you," he said, handing her a single long-stemmed red rose, not unlike what he gave to her earlier.

"Thank you," she replied. She took the rose and twirled it in her fingers. "But what for? You already gave me one just this morning."

"I know. But perhaps Nancy got hold of the first one," he said.

"Gomez, it's Natalie, not Nancy," she replied, laughing at him.

"It doesn't matter whether her name was Nancy or Natalie or Nadine." He shrugged. "All of those names are ghastly."

"Gomez!" she whispered, placing a hand on his chest for a gentle slap. She turned around and saw Natalie and her friends lurking nearby. "She is just in close proximity!"

"I do not really care, do I?" he whispered back, laughing at his audacity.

Morticia joined his laugh. She glanced again at Natalie and saw that she was sulking and glaring at them at the same time. "Come along, Gomez. I believe that Natalie might kill us with the murderous look she is giving us."

---

As promised, Morticia phoned Phoebe when she arrived home. Their conversation lasted for hours that Morticia went to bed several minutes before the roosters started crowing. It was quite a wonder then, when Morticia woke up only four hours after sleeping. She wanted very much to pull the covers over her head and return to sleep, however, she remembered the last conversation she had with Gomez the previous night – or she supposed it was earlier that day.

"Would it be alright if I come over to your house tomorrow morning?" Gomez asked as he helped her out of his car.

"Of course," she replied. "May I ask why, though?"

"To take you out," he said.

"Take me out?" she repeated, confused. "Just like today? I mean, yesterday? Or was that… oh, pardon me, I am now confused with the days."

"I believe right now is still the same day," he replied with a smile. "But yes, just like earlier today."

"Oh, I would very much enjoy that," she agreed, returning his smile. "Will you bring me to the cliff overlooking the landfill again?"

"No," he said as they climbed her house's porch. "But I would bring you to a better place."

"Where?" she asked a bit excitedly.

"It is a surprise," he answered mysteriously.

"I look forward to it," she said smiling.

"So am I," he agreed, smiling also. He took her hand and planted a tender kiss on it. "Good night, Morticia."

She leaned towards him and kissed him on the cheek leaving him a mark of her lipstick, just like she did the night previously. "Good night."

Smiling at the memory, she climbed out of the bed and started preparing for her early date with Gomez. Not too soon, she had bathed, dressed, and fixed her hair. She was putting the final touch of her make up when she heard a faint knock on the front door. The taps were in the rhythm she and Gomez agreed on the previous night, as not to wake up Ophelia from her slumber.

She stood up from her bureau to straighten and check on her clothes – a midnight blue with white collar and three-fourths sleeves smock that stopped just before her knees over black leather leggings and high-top navy blue Converse. Her usual braids sat neatly on her back and she donned her usual dark makeup, with matching silver single-studded earrings. Appreciating her getup, she took her bag and left her room.

"You look wonderful," was Gomez's greeting when she opened the front door.

"So do you," she replied with a shy smile. Then she added, "And good morning."

"Ah, yes," he said upon realizing that he had not truly greeted her. "Good morning as well, Morticia." He held out a hand in which she place hers over and he kissed her pristine hands.

"I feel underdressed whenever I am with you," Morticia commented as they made their way to Gomez's Duisenberg. He held out the car door as she entered.

"Why?" he asked. He ran to the driver's side and slipped in. He switched on the engine and drive away from Morticia's house. He repeated his question. "Why did you say that? You look wonderful, just like I've said just now."

"You are wearing a three-piece suit," she simply replied. "While I wear nothing but a child's smock. I should have worn a dress to match your suit."

"But I adore the clothes you don," he contradicted.

"Because I look like a child?" she suggested in a small voice.

"Because you look like no one else," he opposed. "You look like… you."

"I look like me?" she repeated, frowning in confusion. She stared at the window and watched the scenery changed from trees and occasional houses and apartments to flat, dead-looking expanse of land and dried grass. She did not notice to which direction he was driving, giving her no idea if they were driving to the back or otherwise of the campus. "Where are we going?"

"Yes, you look like you and no one else. And just like what I've said before your eyes, you stand out. I like that," he replied, completely ignoring her latter question. Instead, he continued driving.

"You are determined to continue flatter me, are you not?" she asked, peering at him as she tried to gauge his emotions. "Much like how you are determined to surprise me to where our destination is."

"Yes," he replied, briefly looking at her and giving her the most mysterious, yet boyish grin he could muster. He returned his eyes back on the road ahead. "There is no reason for me not to flatter you, for all that I say are true."

"I really am just not used by compliments," she murmured. She looked out of the window and saw that mist was forming as they drive on. The dried grasslands became abundant with dying and already dead trees. She looked around curiously. "I believe I have an idea where we are heading."

"Do you?" he asked. His voice sounded a bit off, as if he was disappointed that their journey's end would no longer be a surprise.

"I think so," she replied. "But I have never been in one. Mother did not allow us to go, nor did she and Father ever attend those occasions held in places like this."

"Really?" he asked sounding surprised. He reduced the speed of his car and parked near a big mahogany tree. He stepped out of the Duisenberg and went to Morticia's side to help her out. Then he opened the trunk of the car to retrieve the breakfast he brought, as well as the half dozen of thorny, long-stemmed, red roses, which he gave to her with a rather shy smile.

"Thank you," she said, sharing his shy smile. "You do not have to, you know."

"I know, but I want to," he replied, shifting the paper bag to his right hand so that she could offer his left to Morticia who took it without any hesitation. They threaded across the foggy and dead grassland until they reached a gate with an archway that read Parker Cemetery.

"We are still inside the campus then?" she asked as they paused to read the words on the archway.

"Technically, no," he answered, pushing the gate open. Loud scraping noise of metal grazing the hard pavement filled the eerily silent air. "This is a bit beyond the southern part of the campus, but this is the cemetery built by the founder of West Parker, Albert Parker."

"I suppose it was built for the campus?" she asked. They continued walking towards the heart of the cemetery, where a large monument of a grandiose man sitting candidly on a big piece of rock, another man, though younger, was standing imposingly next to the former. Gomez led her to a bench just beside the statue.

"It was," he agreed. He handed her a bullet tumbler and he took another one for his own consumption from the paper bag he brought. He also took a loaf of moldy bread. "Do you know the history of West Parker? Its gory past?"

"Thank you," she said as she took the tumbler from him. She took a sip and shook her head. "I knew that West Parker was established by Albert Parker in the 1860s, during the American Civil War. However, I have no idea that a cemetery was built for the university. I did not also know that West Parker had a dark history. Had I known, I would have been more enthusiastic to attend this school."

"Not all history books in the library stated the true history of West Parker," he said, also taking a sip of his coffee. He took a piece of bread and tore it into two, offering her the other half. "Have you not notice how the subject Parker History was only taught to senior students?"

"When I saw the curriculum, I never gave the subjects any notice," she replied, shrugging indifferently. "I was not really enthusiastic about coming here. Now that you mentioned it, why is Parker's history only being taught to senior students?"

"Because if they teach it to younger students, there is a great possibility that the students would leave the school," he answered. He shifted on his seat, tucking a leg underneath the other to face her. "But if they teach the university's history during the last semester of their college schooling, students would not have any choice but to continue since it would be a waste of fortune and time to go to another school with only a semester left."

"That bad?" she asked, not being able to hide her excitement. Perhaps knowing that the university she was in also has an interesting story to tell and knowing that the story was bleak, gave her the notion that she was, after all the hesitations and regrets, in a good school. She also turned to face him, her eyes bright with anticipation.

"You can say that," he replied, smiling at her enthusiasm. "I see that you look forward to knowing the story."

"Yes," she breathed, also smiling at him. "But how did you know about the history of West Parker? I believe that you are not yet on your last semester, are you?"

"No, I still have another semester to go," he said. He took a bite of the bread before continuing. "Next semester would be my last semester. However, my father, Alonzo Addams, who incidentally gave me my second name –"

"Your full name is Gomez Alonzo Addams?" she curiously interrupted. Realizing what she did, she smiled shyly at him and said, "Oh, sorry."

"Indeed, that is my full name," he said smiling at her to wave her embarrassment away.

"It is lovely," she softly said.

"Thank you," he replied. "So is your name."

She halted from sipping her henbane tea. "Do not tell me you know my full name, as well."

"But I do," he said smiling a guilty smile.

"Of course, why shouldn't you know?" she asked with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Morticia Anaesthesia Frump. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl," he complimented again.

She smiled shyly before she cleared her throat. "Well… about your father?"

"Ah, yes," he said, suddenly remembering. He put down his coffee to take a cigar from his breast pocket. He huffed on it for a while before continuing. "My father was a professor in the university. And he thought it wise to tell me and Fester about the history of our future school as a bed time story."

"Your father sounded like a very interesting man," she commented.

"He was, he was," he agreed. For a moment, he looked sad. "It is sad that you have not the chance to meet him. He would've adored you."

Morticia placed a gentle hand over his. "But he is living inside you."

"I suppose." He sighed sadly. Then he puffed on his cigar and shook his head to clear his mind off some lonely recollection. "Pardon me," he whispered. "Anyway, Father would divide the history of West Parker into several chapters so that he would have a continuous story to tell Fester and I. He said that West Parker was truly built to become a morgue and cemetery of American soldiers who died during the war. But then there were too many dead soldiers, that Albert Parker alone could not embalm all of them. That was how West Parker became a school."

"West Parker was an embalming school?" she asked. She looked down and saw that she was still clasping his hand. She moved to pull it away but he resisted and held hers tighter. She looked up at him endearingly.

"Indeed," he said as he caressed the back of her hand. "It first started well. Until the government brought even the injured and dying soldiers here." He saw her frown with confusion. "Albert Parker knew about embalming, but not saving the lives of the living. He thought that both were the same thing."

"He embalmed the living?" she whispered. He shook his head grimly.

"If only he did that to spare the living from the excruciating pain. No. He experimented on the living, as he had no idea how to save lives," he found himself whispering. "He would cut them open to take away shrapnel and bullets inside the soldiers, but he took no care about their organs and veins. Most of them bled to death.

"When it finally dawned to him that the victims' organs and veins matter, he became a bit more careful."

"Why do you sound like that?" she asked. "If he was careful, shouldn't he have saved more lives?"

"Once he found out about the purpose of different organs, he… well, he spared them."

"Please tell me that by 'them' you mean the soldiers,"

"The organs."

Morticia gasped, she knew what he was not saying. He nodded sadly.

"I believe that Albert Parker was the basis of Mary Shelly's Frankenstein," Gomez said. "A number of corpses were experimented on, from limbs and other extremities, to organs such as eyes and hearts and livers, to skins of the soldiers, even the hides and tails of animals. He was unsuccessful, of course.

"What was more is that, Albert Parker thought that his experimentations were failing because the bodies he experimented on were dying or already dead…"

"And so he started killing his students," she supplied with a quiet voice.

"Yes."

"But then, what happened? How come West Parker is still open?"

"Albert Parker's experiments were kept silent for a very long time."

"Who kept them away from the public's knowledge?"

"His son, Albert Parker, Jr. He was a mad as his father when it comes to testing the limits of science, but he was more careful and very much ambitious. He embalmed the bodies of the soldiers for his father, but he kept their organs. He would have a funeral for the dead, inviting their families, even the government officials who could spare their time, but when they had all gone, he would have someone exhume the bodies and he would put them on his operating table, well, parts of them.

"When sober from their experimentations, Albert Parker, Sr. and Albert Parker, Jr. would teach rather excellently on willing students, who had no idea about their pet projects. That is until they were the ones to be experimented on. They were able to produce fine embalmers and as the years progressed, good doctors, who specialized in operations. Soon, they were able to heal the wounded, but of course, Albert Parker, Sr. and Jr. were the exceptions.

"Once the civil war was over, Albert Parker, Sr. was commended for his contribution to the society and granted him to establish a university. His son convinced him to offer other fields of knowledge in the university, to broaden the range of their human ventures."

"When was their secret revealed?" she asked with wide eyes.

"During the second World War," he replied. "The first and second World war was a boon for Albert Parker, Sr. and Jr., they would be able to do their experimentations again without raising any alarm. By the second World War, Albert Parker, Sr. was 83 years old and he succeeded in teaching his grandson, Theodore Parker about his expertise. The three of them then continued their crooked legacy.

"That was until Theodore decided to experiment on himself. Unfortunately, his then wife witnessed his family's doings. She ran amok from here and told everyone she could about what she saw. No one believed her, of course. But she decided that everyone must be aware and that the Parker family's experiments must be put into an end."

"She killed them then," she said with pride in her voice, finally understanding how the turn of events occurred. "And published the hidden history books."

"Yes," he replied, bemused by her intellect of putting the pieces together. "She then inherited the university. But she was a very ruthless, much like Albert Parker, Jr., but not in the same manner," he explained when he saw her raised eyebrow. "She wanted the glamor the university gave her; she was invited to distinguished parties and everything. And most of all, she was extremely rich. And so she told everyone that Albert Parker, Sr. died in his sleep and that Albert Parker, Jr., died in depression due to his father's death. She did not reveal the loss of her husband until six months later, when she claimed that he was terminally ill for the past months.

"She continued the operations of West Parker and herself taught the history of the university. Since then, the history became an open secret. A story nobody claims to be true but they know is true." He finished. "And now we must hurry, for your class is to begin in five minutes."

"Already?" she asked, flabbergasted. She does not notice the passing of time whenever she was with him. She was not even able to process the history of West Parker as she and Gomez practically ran back to the Duisenberg to catch her first class. He drove manically, while the both of them were silent, only stepping on the brake pedal when they reached the Literature Building. Morticia did not even have the time to kiss him goodbye, she merely waved as she hurried to her classroom.

"Professor Belch?" Natalie's voice rang out the moment Morticia appeared on the doorway.

"Yes?" Mr. Belch replied in a bored voice. His head was bent over a book, just like the rest of the class, with the exception of Natalie and her friends, and Phoebe who rolled her eyes at Morticia.

"Morticia Frump just arrived, Sir," Natalie said in an irritating sing-song voice. "We started fifteen minutes ago and she is late, from a date again, it would seem."

Mr. Belch raised his head and looked at Morticia then to the roses she was holding. He smiled at her kindly, "You may proceed to your seat, Ms. Frump." Then he turned to face Natalie. He spoke in a falsely nice voice, "And so she is. But I suppose that she knew all about what you are supposed to be reading, Ms. Peterson. This is why I advise you to continue reading and stop minding other people's lateness."

Morticia and Phoebe nearly burst out laughing. They avoided each other's eyes, in fear of erupting into a laughing fit. Morticia, however, was not able to stop herself from flashing a smile to Natalie and her friends as she passed by them, and showing off the roses Gomez gave her.

"Gomez?" Phoebe simply asked as Morticia settled down on her chair.

"Yes," Morticia answered. She took her book from her bag and put it on her table. "What page?"

"81," Phoebe replied, winking at Morticia.

When Morticia located the anecdote they were tasked to read, she smiled slyly back at Phoebe. "A Date with the Banshee and the Witch by Patricia Chills, huh?"

"Interesting," Phoebe commented. "But perhaps not as interesting as your date with Gomez?"

"Perhaps not," Morticia agreed. Then she whispered, "Later."

---

After Morticia's last class the same day, Gomez brought her to another diner, where they talked about their families. Both of them were rather reflecting when they went home. The next day, he took her to another enchanting and secluded part of the university. This time, it was in the forest, almost of walking distance from Morticia's house. He gave her a bouquet of a dozen, thorny, long-stemmed, red roses, before parting. And she was late again for her first class.

"Sir Belch –" Natalie began the moment she saw Morticia.

"Yes, Ms. Frump is indeed late again," Mr. Belch interrupted. His voice sounded like a mixture of boredom and irritation. "And yes, Ms. Frump has a bouquet of red roses again, which I must say are very lovely."

"Thank you, Professor Belch," Morticia said. "And I would like to apologize for my tardiness not just today but also for the previous days."

"Not to worry, my dear," Mr. Belch replied, smiling at her kindly, as if she did not arrive late. "You and Ms. Munster know all the lessons as much as I do, and small matters such as tardiness hardly be of importance given that you ace all the examinations I gave you. Please take your seat and resume reading the anecdote on page 81."

"Thank you, Professor Belch," she repeated. As she passed by Natalie table, she whispered. "Nice try."

During their free period, Morticia and Phoebe were huddled again under the same oak tree they were underneath the previous day and the day before that. They were discussing the report they were supposed to do about A Date with the Banshee and the Witch when Ophelia arrived.

"Hello?" Ophelia greeted in a soft voice.

Morticia sighed and greeted in a grunt, "Hello, Ophelia."

"Hello, Ophelia," mimicked Phoebe, though with more enthusiasm.

"May I?" Ophelia asked, gesturing to the ground next to them.

"I suppose so," Phoebe replied while Morticia just shrugged.

Ophelia sat down facing the two of them. "Why are you so angry with me, Morticia?" she asked, hurt evident in her voice and her face. "All I said that night was how Christian and I made and ate a chocolate cake."

Morticia and Phoebe looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Chocolate cake?" Morticia repeated.

"Yes," Ophelia answered looking confused. "What did you think we did?"

Neither Morticia nor Phoebe answered. They shared another look and exploded into fits of uncontrollable laughter. Ophelia stared at them in surprise, more to her sister. "What?" she asked.

Neither responded coherently and continued laughing.

Even when Gomez arrived, the both of them were still guffawing and were practically rolling on the ground. He looked at Ophelia in bewilderment but all she could respond was a shrug.

"Morticia? Phoebe?" he called, trying to calm them down, but his effort was futile, they just laughed heartily. A few moments passed and their merriment reduced into giggles. With a gasp of air, they ceased.

"Oh, Gomez, hello," Morticia greeted. He reached out a hand to wipe away the tears that were streaking down her cheek. He also dusted her off, for her maroon, collarless smock was already covered with glades of grass. "Thank you."

"I must say that your laugh really is just delightful to hear," he said. He settled down next to her. "Though I wonder what cause you such glee."

"I would also like to know," Ophelia demanded.

Morticia looked at Phoebe and together, erupted to another fit of giggling. Morticia tried to speak in between of her giggling. "Ophelia… it with Christian… merely chocolate… cake!" She and Phoebe roared with laughter once more.

"Chocolate cake?" Gomez repeated with dawning realization. He faced Ophelia. "Did she say chocolate cake?"

"Yes, and what is wrong with that?" Ophelia asked irritably. And before her eyes, Gomez joined the other girls' chorus of laughter.

"What is going on?!" Ophelia cried out. Then she cried, "Morticia! Phoebe! Gomez!" She poked each of them in turns, but it was useless, they kept on laughing. "HEY!" she finally shouted, shushing them immediately.

"Yes?" Phoebe asked. She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing; Gomez copied her as Morticia placed a delicate hand over her mouth.

"What are you laughing about?!" Ophelia blurted out angrily. She glared at the three of them. "And don't you dare start laughing again!"

Morticia took several deep breaths and closed her eyes so that she would not see Phoebe or Gomez. "I thought that by 'it' you meant that you and Christian had sex," she explained. She heard Ophelia trying to stop herself from laughing. "Shush, Phoebe. Or Gomez and I will start laughing as well."

"I am already laughing," Gomez replied with laughter evident in his voice.

Morticia could feel his shoulders shaking. "Stop it!" she hissed, though she was also beginning to laugh. She addressed her sister immediately, "And, well, I told them. And now that you've said you only ate chocolate cake –" She was not even able to finish her sentence as she started laughing again.

"Oh, ha-ha, very funny," Ophelia commented dryly. She watched irritably as Morticia, Gomez, and Phoebe wholeheartedly laughed again. She waited rather impatiently until they stop, trying to catch their breaths, and holding a stitch on their side. "Done now?"

"Hardly," Gomez answered as he wiped his eyes with tears of laughter. He did the same to Morticia. "To think that your description was very rich."

"'We were sweating,'" Morticia quoted, shaking her head in disbelief.

"'The most delicious thing I've ever tasted,'" added Phoebe, who was lying on her back on the ground.

"'It was harder than I thought!'" Morticia and Phoebe said together before dissolving to another series of giggling.

"Ugh, I cannot believe you thought I did that, Morticia!" Ophelia cried. "And had I done anything in that likes of that, would I actually tell you?"

"Oh, but you were so mysterious and giddy, Ophelia," countered Morticia.

"You are insane,"

"Not more than you. You could've simply said 'We baked a cake!'"

"Speaking of chocolate cake," interrupted Phoebe before Ophelia could retort. "Morticia, do you remember that I suggested chocolate cake when you told me Ophelia and Christian did something?"

"Yes!" Morticia exclaimed. "Such coincidence, who would've thought that was what they really did." She turned to Gomez. "I apologize about that, Gomez, I hardly paid you any attention."

"It's alright," he said smiling at her. She smiled back. "I only dropped by to say that I won't be taking you out to dinner tonight and tomorrow, as well as to breakfast tomorrow."

Her smile faltered.

"I have exams tomorrow," he said, touching her chin with a gentle hand.

"Oh, I see," she replied. She gave him a small smile. "I shall review for my exams as well, then."

"Shall I see you then first thing during the weekend?" he suggested hopefully.

"Yes, please," she replied. He took her free hand and kissed it before leaving, not even bothering to bid Phoebe and Ophelia goodbye.

"Are you…?" Ophelia asked.

"No," Morticia answered.

"Just courting," Phoebe added with a knowing wink.

---

That night, Gomez could not resist going to Morticia's house. He was very much fed up with all the reviewing he was doing for the last few hours, not to mention the reviews he was having during his classes. Knowing perfectly that he won't be back until the dawn of the next day, he took his coat jacket to fetch his car keys and left for Morticia's house.

Just like the previous nights, he climbed up her balcony through the adjacent willow tree. He cautiously looked around to see if anyone saw him lurking and found no one. He then peered inside Morticia's room, which was of course, unlit. Different from the other nights, the curtain on her balcony door was parted, allowing him to have a direct view of Morticia in deep slumber.

He watched her sleep and let his thoughts wander. He recalled the conversations he had with her and realized how comfortable it was for him to divulge to her the darkest secret he had – what he did to the Amore twins and Fester. He recalled how surprise he was when she did not leave even after she heard the whole story of his sordid past.

He almost laughed at the memory following his full disclosure. Morticia was very certain that he would lose his head when he learned that she is a witch. Why would he? His cousins were almost like the living dead, he was not even sure if some of them were actually alive. And her friend, Phoebe, he was almost certain that she is banshee. But he could not ask her that, she might be offended. Perhaps, he would know somehow.

He remembered the times they embarrassed themselves to each other. Come to think of it, those times were mostly during the moments when they let slip their liking for each other. He stared back at her sleeping figure. Was there actually a time where he expressed more than his liking for her? He thought hard.

This is not really how I imagined myself professing my love for you, Morticia.

He almost stopped breathing. He did not say that to her, did he? He tortured his mind to remember the exact incidence and recalled, with a deadened feeling, that he indeed said those words to her. Perhaps she did not notice. Of course she did, she is rather a highly intellectual girl, very much unlike the people he had ever met.

Leaning closely to the balcony door so as to be as close as he could to her, he examined what he said days ago. Did he really already love her? He gazed to her beautiful face and tried to imagine in what state could he have been had she not appeared. He tried to picture his life without her presence, but it was hard. It felt as if a huge chunk of him was Morticia. He could not even visualize being without her.

Perhaps, had she not come, he would have been kicked out from his college. Or perhaps, it would not have come to that, he would voluntarily leave. But go where? For sure he would search for Fester. But the idea of finding Fester is like looking for someone while being blind. He did not even have faith to himself. But Morticia does.

She made him forgive himself, lifted the burden from his shoulders. He still felt guilty, but not as sunken in the guilt as before. He managed to get a life. Morticia made him see what other people call as the ray of hope.

He stared at her again and thought, at the same time, what he previously let slip. It jolted him. In an instant, he jumped off Morticia's balcony, started his car, and left her house. He was afraid. He has truly fallen in love with her.

---

"Morticia?" Ophelia called. She was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for her, Morticia, Phoebe, Christian, and Elizabeth. It was Saturday, the day Gomez promised to see Morticia first thing in the morning. But he did not come. She was quite upset about it, which was why Ophelia invited Phoebe and Elizabeth over. Ophelia and Christian were supposed to have a date out of town, but she could not leave her sister looking so depressed.

"Morticia?" Ophelia called again. "Where is she?"

"I will check up on her," Phoebe suggested. She stood up from the couch in the living room where she was previously speaking with Elizabeth and went to the second floor to console her friend. She knocked her door. "Morticia?"

Morticia did not respond, so instead, Phoebe opened the door to see her lying on her bed, looking nothing more than a corpse inside her coffin.

"What are you doing?" she asked, sitting down next to her. Morticia gave her an almost nonexistent shrug. "Come downstairs, won't you? Elizabeth is worried."

"I am worried," Morticia replied in an inaudible voice.

"Perhaps he is busy," Phoebe suggested.

"With what?"

"I do not know, studying, perhaps?"

"Examinations were done yesterday,"

"Other things then,"

"He won't look for his brother until the Easter break,"

"What?"

"His lost brother. He won't look for him until the Easter break."

"I see…"

"Then what could he be busy with?"

"Why don't you call him?"

"I do not know his home number."

"Let us go to his place, then."

"I do not know where he lives."

"For goodness sake, Morticia, he knows where you live!"

"He stalked me."

"Morticia! Pull yourself together, will you?" Phoebe cried as she was out of patience. She jumped onto her feet. Morticia blinked up at her. "What are you so miserable about?"

"He did not come as promised," Morticia simply said with the slightest shrug.

"And so?" Phoebe asked exasperatedly. "Since when were you very much dependent?"

Morticia sat up. "I like him, Phoebe."

"Darling, I know that already," Phoebe replied, deciding that softening her tone would reap better results from her friend. She sat down again on her bed.

"No, you misunderstood me, Phoebe," Morticia insisted. "I like him, very much."

---

The following day was no better than the previous night. At least the previous night, Phoebe was able to persuade Morticia to come down to the dining room and eat. She usually eats small portions, and on that night, she hardly ate anything. The following day, no one could even speak to Morticia.

She lay on her bed, supine, just staring up on the ceiling. She did not touch the tea Ophelia gave to her, nor did she even stand up to just go to the bathroom. Ophelia knew this because Phoebe, who was very much worried with the way Morticia was behaving and spent the night inside the guest room, kept tabs about Morticia.

"Had she closed her eyes, she would have truly looked like a corpse," Phoebe said on her fifth reporting to Ophelia.

"Oh, this is just wonderful," Ophelia replied sarcastically. "Where on earth is that Gomez? He promised to meet Morticia and just decided not to."

"There must be some reason," Phoebe said.

"Oh, do not give him excuses," Ophelia snapped.

"Perhaps I am, but Morticia must regain her senses," countered Phoebe. "Yes, she might like him, but for heaven's sake, he is just a man."

"Tell her that," Ophelia suggested.

"You perfectly know I could not," Phoebe said, sounding defeated. She stomped her foot in irritation "Oh! I will kill Gomez when I see him!"

---

Of course, it did not go amiss Natalie and her friends when Morticia arrived ahead of them in their first period, looking glum and rose-less. It was the third day she did not carry a rose, but this was the first time they saw her so bleak. Even Mr. Belch noticed Morticia's inactivity, but he did not bother highlighting it for the class. Instead, he resumed his teaching duties and making the class read, just to give his best student silence.

On the period after their free hour, Natalie bounced to the classroom holding a bouquet of two dozens of red roses. She was showing it off to those who care, which basically constituted her four friends and a handful of other students. Her voice was loud and boisterous.

"… Addams gave them to me just before the free period ended. He is very sweet, isn't he?" Phoebe overheard her saying. She was ahead of Morticia and decided against letting her hear whatever Natalie was saying, whether true or otherwise. She pulled her away and tried to bring her to the other doorway leading to the room, but Morticia was stubborn, as she was the past few days.

She entered the classroom just in time to hear Natalie say, "Gomez and I started seeing each other just this Saturday. Well, technically, Friday night-turned-Saturday morning. During dinner that Friday, he gave me a single stemmed red rose. The following day, it was half dozen roses. Yesterday, he surprised me with a dozen of red roses, and today this! He just sent this through a delivery man. He was so tired of our adventure last night to the beach that he overslept!"

"Isn't it sweet for him to send her roses even when he is dead tired?" Natalie's gay friend added. He saw Morticia staring at them and whispered something to Natalie, who also looked at Morticia's direction.

She walked to where Morticia was. "Gomez Addams is very sweet, isn't he, Morticia?" she asked with false kindness.

"I suppose he is," Morticia replied softly. She eyed the roses Natalie was holding. She noticed the betrayed look in her eyes.

"Do you like my roses, Morticia?" Natalie asked, retaining the phony benevolence she previously used. She leaned casually to Morticia's ear and whispered, "I guess the flavor of the month already changed."

Morticia stared at Natalie as she stood imposingly in front of her. She watched Natalie observe her reactions. Morticia very much wanted to stand as confident as Natalie was, she wanted her to feel as if the news of Gomez Addams giving her roses did not matter, she wanted everyone to think that she was not hurting; but she just cannot, in fact, she was numb. With a gasp to prevent herself from breaking down in front of everyone, especially Natalie and her friends, Morticia ran away.

She bumped onto Phoebe who intended to pull Morticia away from Natalie. Phoebe opened her mouth to speak but abruptly stopped at the sight of Morticia, she looked lost and emotionless. It was as if she had entered an impermeable wall. Instead, she glared pointedly at Natalie, who responded with a smug and triumphant smile, before rushing after her brokenhearted friend.

"Phoebe, please don't," Morticia said as she continued to run away. Her voice was dead.

"But –" Phoebe began, to which Morticia interrupted. She faced her.

"Phoebe, please," she begged, still with lifeless voice. She could not feel anything at all. "I need… I want to be alone."

Phoebe rushed to Morticia and embraced her. She held her tight. "Oh, darling," Phoebe murmured in Morticia's hair. However, Morticia remained emotionless. She did not move to hug Phoebe back. Finally, her friend let her go and without another word, she left.

"Oh, Gomez Addams, I will kill you!" Phoebe shouted to no one in particular. She stomped back to her class, fuming.

---

After her last class, Phoebe stood from her seat the moment their substitute professor stepped out of the classroom, for she could not stand the sight of Natalie gloating over her demented roses. As she passed Natalie's table, she purposely bumped onto the former's table, causing the roses to fall on the floor. Then, Phoebe stepped on the roses.

"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed sounding very sarcastic. "I am very sorry, Natalie! I did not notice that your roses were there." She smiled mockingly at her, stomped the roses again, before finally leaving. She intended to search for Ophelia, but it seemed that she was also meaning to do the same to her, as they nearly collided on Phoebe's way out of the building.

"Oh, Phoebe, there you are!" Ophelia exclaimed at the same time Phoebe said, "I was just about to look for you, Ophelia."

"Why?" they asked in unison.

"Morticia," they answered together. They sighed.

"Come, let's not talk here, Natalie might see us and gloat even more," Phoebe said. She steered Ophelia to the opposite direction where she knew Natalie and her friends would be heading, as she does everyday. They started walking along a canopied path of big trees.

"Why is she not with you?" Ophelia asked, suddenly realizing that they were not accompanied by Morticia.

"She ran away," Phoebe answered. She sighed again.

"Ran away? Why?"

"After the break, Natalie came to our next class holding a bouquet of red roses and practically shouting to everyone that Gomez gave them to her."

"Gomez? As in Gomez Addams?"

"Ophelia, how many Gomez do you know?"

"I was just… but why would he do that?"

"No idea,"

Ophelia growled in anger. "I will kill him! I really will!" she paused to look ahead of them and saw a familiar male figure coming their way, half-hidden in the shadows. "Ah! Speaking of the devil!" She held Phoebe's hand and together, they marched towards Gomez, who looked alarmed at the sight of them.

"Gomez!" they shouted in unison.

"Ophelia. Phoebe," he greeted back, though rather nervously.

"Are you not wondering where Morticia is?" Ophelia asked accusingly.

"Ah… well…" he began but Phoebe cut in.

"Because we are," she said, fighting to keep her voice low. "We thought she was with you."

"Well…" he began again and this time, Ophelia interrupted.

"You were supposed to meet her last Saturday, were you not?"

"But you did not come," Phoebe said bitterly. "We thought that perhaps, today would be different."

"And we were right!" Ophelia cut in with false cheerfulness in her voice. Then she added with a poisonous tone, "Today is indeed a different day."

"Very different," Phoebe agreed. "Well?" she demanded.

"Explanation. Now," Ophelia explained exasperatedly as Gomez looked at them in bewilderment.

"Well, I had a thing –" Gomez started hesitantly.

"With Natalie, I see," Ophelia suddenly blurted out for she could not contain her anger anymore. Phoebe put a restraining hand on Ophelia's shoulder.

"Who?" he asked, totally confused.

"Oh, do not be a coy, Gomez," Phoebe almost growled in fury. The hairs on Gomez's arms and nape prickled.

"That was why you did not meet Morticia last Saturday, wasn't it?" Ophelia asked. She took a step towards Gomez, who by some unknown reason, cowered at her presence.

"And you gave her roses, too," Phoebe added. She also took a step closer to Gomez. He cowered even more.

"Who…? How…?" he mumbled. He took a step back, but they advanced still.

"I saw it!" Phoebe nearly cried. Gomez visibly shivered upon hearing her voice. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down. When she looked back at him again, her eyes were livid but her face was serene, so was her voice when she spoke. "Natalie was holding two dozens of red roses. She claimed that you gave it to her. And that you started seeing her on Friday night."

"What?!" he cried in outrage. He threw his hands in the air, clearly frustrated. "Why had she just not shut her mouth?"

"Why, is that what you asked her to do?" Ophelia questioned.

"No!" he cried indignantly.

"Are you saying that you do converse with her?" she further asked.

"No!"

"But with the way you are speaking, you do not seem to deny it!"

"I am denying it! Why won't you believe me?"

"Why should we?"

Gomez was quiet. He had no answer to that question.

Phoebe huffed. "Come on, Ophelia, let us just find where Morticia is. We are just wasting our time with this man." She took Ophelia by the elbow and steered her away.

"How did she look like?" Ophelia asked, changing tack and completely ignoring Gomez, just like what Phoebe was doing. They were walking slowly and he could catch everything that they were saying.

"Like a zombie," Phoebe admitted sadly. "She looked at me – I am not even sure if she actually saw me. What, with dead eyes and impassive face? I tried to console her but she did not respond. It felt as if –"

"As if she entered an invisible shell, so farther back that you cannot reach her?" Ophelia supplied in a quiet voice. She looked definitely morose, even her daisies seemed to droop.

"Yes…" Phoebe breathed. "Has she… has she done this before?" She closed her eyes, bracing herself for Ophelia's response.

Ophelia just nodded quietly. "When Mother first pushed her away from her life."

Gomez hung his head. He knew how much pain Morticia was in because of her mother, and now, he caused her the same pain. He raised his eyes slightly to watch Phoebe and Ophelia walk away from him, still speaking with each other. He wanted to know what they were talking about, but at the same time, he didn't. He was afraid of what he might hear.

One thing was clear in his mind, though: Gomez, no matter how unintentionally, broke the heart of the woman he deeply loves.

---

After searching the whole campus, Gomez entered his Duisenberg and drove to the very last place he wanted to be caught at, yet the very place he wished to be at – Morticia's house. He wanted to apologize for what he did. He wanted to hold. He wanted to tell her how much feelings he has for her. But he was too coward. Too coward for the uncertainty. Still, he effortlessly climbed the willow tree to the second floor balcony.

He knelt in front of the closed balcony door to Morticia's bedroom, rested his head on the glass of the door, and silently apologized. He was too absorbed with what he was feeling and what he truly wanted to do conflicting what he felt he needed to do, that he did not notice Morticia was not in her bed. Instead, she was standing on the end of the balcony, facing away from him, and reflecting as well.

She did not notice that tears were silently streaming down her cheeks, nor did she notice Gomez climbing onto her balcony. She sniffed and realized that she was crying. And so she brushed her tears away using the back of her hand. That was when she noted a movement from behind her. She turned around and saw Gomez kneeling by her door.

Despite the hurt she was feeling, she could not help but feel as if something lit up within her by the sight of him. She almost smiled and touched him. But then, a voice inside her head reminded her of her misery and who caused it. She lost her smile and she turned icy again.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a low voice.

Her question felt like a punch on Gomez's gut. He could hear the pain of betrayal and the hurt in her voice. But it was the coldness that truly wounded him. He stood up and moved closer to her, arms outstretched to touch her.

"Don't," she said, retaining the coldness that hurt every inch of Gomez. "What are you doing here?" she repeated. She raised her eyes to look at him and he nearly cried out. Hey eyes were raw, just like they were when she told him about her mother. The impact of what he did, or what he failed to do, kicked him hard.

"I came to see you," he said quietly. He reached out in his suit jacket to get a cigar but she stopped him.

"Do not smoke here," she said coldly. "I do not want to be reminded of your presence when you had gone. Did you come to finally tell me that you are seeing Natalie?"

"I am not seeing Natasha," he began.

"Stop it, Gomez," she quietly said. Gomez wished she had shouted, because the quietness in her voice was too painful. "You perfectly know that her name is Natalie, not Nancy, not Natasha, and most certainly not Morticia."

"I know that, you are Morticia," he cut in. He reached out a hand, but she slapped it away.

"I told you, Gomez, do not," she said. "And please, stop trying to flatter me. It won't work anymore."

"I am not, nor have I ever, saw Natalia," he insisted exasperatedly.

"Gomez, how many times do I have to tell you, to implore you, to call her by her name?" she asked, frustrated. "You have fooled me once that you do not know who she was, but you cannot fool me again through that stunt."

"Morticia, I am not fooling you," he insisted. "Why should I?"

"Why should you not?" she retorted. She raised an eyebrow accusingly. "What made me different from the Amore twins?"

"No, Morticia, please no," he begged. He stepped closer to her. She stepped back.

"You were seeing her, Gomez."

"I am not, Morticia, believe me."

"Of course you would say that," she scoffed. "But I do not see the point. Are you not satisfied with her that you wish to waddle in two quicksands?"

"Of course I am not satisfied with her –"

"Finally, the truth from you,"

"– because I only want to be with you."

"Nonsense. She said that you were seeing each other since Friday."

"That is not true."

"You said you will see me on Saturday morning, yet you did not come."

"I was…"

"You gave Natalie roses," she added quietly. It seemed to Gomez that of everything that he had supposedly done, the roses were the one that hurt her most. She seemed to have anchored the emotions she was feeling to the evidence Natalie presented.

"I didn't."

"I see no purpose with further speaking with you." She started to leave. Her hands were on the knob of the balcony door when he spoke.

"If I am seeing her, then why do I come here since Thursday night to watch you sleep and return home the following dawn with rarely a wink for sleep?" he finally asked. After saying this, he immediately felt nervous – he was already divulging his true emotions for her and he could not do anything to stop it.

Morticia let go of the door knob. She slowly turned around and faced him. "You watch me sleep?" she asked, frowning at him strangely.

"Yes," he replied. His voice mirrored hers, quiet.

"Why do you do that?" she asked but he did not reply right away. She repeated her question. "Why do you watch me sleep?"

"I just like to," he answered. "I have been watching you sleep for a long time…" he sighed and decided to tell her the truth of his absence. "The day I last saw you, when I said that I would be reviewing for my examinations, I did review. When the night came, I had to see you, and I did. And… and I realized… realized that I…" he sighed again. "And I got scared. Call me coward, but I was afraid. I have not felt that feeling before. I do not know how to… how to… I… and I do not want to have another Amore twins incident… but ironically, it had already happened.

"I had to get away to sort my emotions. I thought that if I leave, my feelings would have somehow waned. I was scared, I am scared. I tried to stay away, but I couldn't. I just had to… and so I watch you sleep… every night. And…"

"I do not understand,"

He looked straight into her eyes. "I have fallen in love with you, Morticia."

She did not respond right away. "What are you afraid of?"

"Of returning to how I was. Of the possibility of hurting you like I did to the Amore twins…"

She stepped closer to him. "But by turning away from me have hurt me."

"I know, I know," he murmured with his head hung low. She lifted his head by using her slender forefinger to push his chin up.

"You do not have to be afraid," she whispered. Then she shook her head. "No, you do not have to be afraid alone."

He looked at her and understood what she meant. "But I am coward."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I like coward men," she whispered. They laughed together.

"I like the sound of your laugh," he murmured to her as he placed his hand on her waist to pull her closer. He tucked her hair behind her ear. It was not until then when he saw that her hair was not its usual braids. "I like your hair like this."

"I won't wear it any other way, then,"

"Just for me?"

"Just for you," she replied. She bowed her head so that their foreheads met. "And you know, your stalking tendencies have no boundaries."

He smiled and pulled her even closer. She put her arms over his shoulders. They inched closer to each other.

"Is this a yes?" he asked softly, pulling away.

Morticia rolled her eyes. "You have not asked me yet."

"Right," he replied, scrunching his face up for his forgetfulness. "And now I ask you, will you be my –?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she breathed.

"But you did not let me finish," he said, pouting slightly. She laughed at the sight of him.

"Perhaps I want a different ending," she whispered with a shy smile. He smiled back with his signature boyish grin.

"That, I can do," he whispered back. He pushed her chin up to level with his. Their lips met.

"Ti amo, cara mia," Gomez found himself saying.

---

End of Chapter 10. I hope you enjoyed it! Please do not forget to review!

I do not know when Chapter 11 would be available, since I haven't started writing it yet, though I already have an outline. The safest estimate for Chapter 11 to be completed is a month, sorry! But I will try to finish it early, though, no promises! As teaser, Chapter 11 would be about the first time Morticia and Mrs. Addams meet. If you have suggestions, let me know.

Thank you! :D