Sorry it's taken me awhile to update - Got something BIG in the works and I want to make sure I set it up right. ;)

Anyway, here's a good long one to make up for the shorter ones I've been posting recently.

Hope you like it! Please Review!!

Enjoy~

TLD

Part Twelve: Space

It was nearly 10 am when Joel decided to check on Wednesday again. She hadn't come out of her bedroom yet, and, while that wasn't particularly unusual for Wednesday, Joel had expected she'd be anxious to awake and begin grilling him with questions about the previous night.

Additionally, he was growing anxious himself, sitting in the living room with Morticia and Gomez. Morticia had brought Gomez up to speed on the impending vampiric invasion, the story of Lilith, and of their history. Because of this, Gomez alternated between concerned glances at his wife, spirited but determined paces around the room as he absentmindedly stroked various articles of weaponry on the walls, and angry glares at Joel for bringing this threat upon them.

Joel had to admit, however, that Gomez wasn't nearly as angry as Joel had thought he'd be. Gomez seemed to thrill to the challenge of it all. His fear for his wife and children and his boyish thrill at the prospect of bloodshed warred within him.

Morticia sat impassively, as usual, staring off into space. Whether she was reliving painful memories or plotting revenge, Joel couldn't tell.

Finally, he couldn't stand the pressure of their company a moment longer, so he decided to check on Wednesday.

He climbed the normally rickety and creaky steps with an inhuman grace such that his footsteps made no sound. He stretched out with his senses, listening for the sound of her breathing, the beating of her heart. He could smell her scent, so much stronger in her room, where every fabric was laden with it. As he reached her door, he could almost feel her warmth against his skin, radiating through the wooden door.

He paused, suddenly feeling unsure. Should he wake her? Surely she'd want to be woken, to be brought up to speed on the threat. She'd love to berate him for being stupid enough to bring this threat to her doorstep, or even to make fun of him for still needing her to save his neck after all of these years. He smiled slightly, imagining her face contorted in her favorite expression – scorn.

He reached his hand out, ready to knock.

The door flew open, away from his hand, as Wednesday burst out. She stopped rapidly, almost falling to the floor, when he saw Joel's form in her doorway. Uncharacteristically, she looked disheveled, before she controlled her face and straightened up. When she looked up to Joel's face; however, her face was cold, impassive.

"Darkening my doorstep?" she asked, with wide eyes and stoic face.

Joel almost smiled at her turn of phrase, but was stopped by the strange emptiness in her eyes. He studied her face a moment longer before hurrying himself into answering. "Um, yea, I, well I was… " he paused, gathering his composure, "Coming to see if you'd woken," he finished smoothly, falling into his comfortable, lazy smile. He leaned slightly against the doorway, hovering over Wednesday's body and effectively blocking her exit.

If he thought she'd be pleased by his sudden closeness, he was disappointed. Wednesday scowled slightly before returning to her stoic face and empty eyes.

She faked a sardonic smile, "I'm going out for a bit."

Joel's brow crumpled in confusion. "Now?" he said.

She used his moment of confusion to slip past him and began to move briskly down the stairs. Once her back was to him, she allowed herself a brief expression of concern; she needed to get out of here - Now.

Joel wheeled around, hurrying to follow Wednesday. Just as her hand touched the door handle to the front door, Joel's hand closed on her shoulder.

"Wait," he said firmly.

She spun around. "Yes?" she said coldly, her eyes impatient daggers.

Again, her expression caught him off guard. He removed his hand from her shoulder, feeling almost as if he'd been burned, burned with dry ice or liquid nitrogen – something scalding in its infinite coldness.

He felt her challenging him. The air was rife with the static anticipation before a battle. He could see it in her eyes, in her posture. The beast in Joel could recognize a challenge. But he couldn't feel it. Normally such a posture would trigger his own battle response. But not now. He felt cold.

A cold wave of dread washed away his confusion and annoyance at her strange behavior, extinguishing his anger and his battle urges.

He didn't want this enemy.

He decided to let her go.

With a sigh, he rubbed his forehead and raised weary eyes to Wednesday's.

"Alright, well. Be careful. It's sunny now, but it feels like rain is on the way." His eyes grew grim. "They can move about in the rain."

He watched Wednesday's face for any sign of fear, or anything to show she'd heard him, that she'd understood, or that she still cared for him despite the danger he'd put her in.

But he saw nothing.

Finally, she said, "Goodbye then."

And was gone.

Wednesday moved a little too quickly in her haste to be out of the stifling closeness of the house and into the quiet escape of her cool, black Mercedes. The morning sun was blinding and she ducked her head, shielding her eyes against the onslaught. She ripped open the car door with too much vigor and slammed herself into her own personal sanctuary. Dropping her head onto the leather steering wheel, she sighed heavily.

The deeply tinted windows encased the interior in a thick sheet of darkness and Wednesday felt immediately calmer. After a few deep, cleansing breaths, Wednesday turned the key in the ignition, feeling the deep purr of the engine rumble through her. A sigh of contentment slipped through her lips and grasped the steering wheel with a loving caress.

"Let's go for a drive," she murmured to herself.

"Yes, Let's," crooned a soft, sweet voice.

Wednesday jumped involuntarily, but strong hands restrained her right wrist and grabbed a handful of her loose black hair, pinning her head to the headrest.

"Oh no," chided the voice, "none of that. I just want to talk," the voice pouted.

Wednesday looked into the rearview mirror to face her attacker.

Her head was pressed up against the right side of Wednesday's headrest, her red, pouty lips inches from Wednesday's ear. Her face was like a porcelain doll's – alabaster, with sapphire eyes, and ruby lips. Wednesday had time to register that, were this the face of a doll, the evil grin contorting its lips would have made it the most sinister doll on the market. For a second it made her miss Marie Antoinette.

Then she felt the pain in her head as her hair was being ripped back and the searing pain in her wrist as the vampire nearly crushed her radius and was jolted back to reality.

"Talk?" she spat through gritted teeth.

"Well, yes, silly girl," vampire Barbie giggled. Then her eyes narrowed and she added in a deadened monotone, "Otherwise you'd already be dead."

"Fair enough," Wednesday managed. "What do you want?"

Vampire Barbie's eyes sparkled, "That should be obvious." She titled her head in a coy manner, before whispering in Wednesday's ear, "You."

Wednesday controlled the shock on her face, and attempted a casual tone of voice, "Me?"

"Think about it," the sinister doll crooned, "an eternity of power, power over men, power over all mortals – the ability to hunt, to prey upon the lesser mortals, the weaklings – you can have everything you've always wanted. The power you have now pales in comparison to what you could have – of what you could be – with us."

Wednesday felt the words like wriggling snakes trying to seek an entrance into her consciousness. They spun like incense through her brain, swirling in a fragrant haze, obscuring thought and feeling. But she fought back – she could only vaguely remember why she should fight back – but she did, just enough to keep her head above the suffocating wave.

She looked again into the rearview mirror and saw the doll's face had changed – it was no longer simply sinister, now her eyes glowed red with sudden fierceness and her face transformed into the face of the hunter.

Without thinking, Wednesday thrust her free left hand to the window control buttons and rolled down the rear windows just as the hunter prepared to sink her teeth into Wednesday's throat.

Vampire Barbie shrieked as the rays of sunlight struck her exposed skin on her arms. She wailed and fought to cover her face with blistering and crumbling arms, freeing Wednesday's head and right arm. Wednesday finished rolling down all of the windows and reached up with her right hand for the moonroof controls.

The screaming and wailing came to an abrupt halt and Wednesday smelled the thick, cloying smell of too much incense in a small space. Breathing deeply of the fresh breeze coming through her window, Wednesday finally turned in her seat to see the wreckage in the back.

All that was left of vampire Barbie was a pile of ashes and the lingering smell of incense. Wednesday shook herself, trying to dislodge the nasty feeling of having her so close and the lingering power of her seductive offer.

After she brushed the majority of the ash out of her car, she left the windows rolled down, turned her music up high, and revved the engine – letting the pavement roll out behind her.