Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to own, the Addams Family in any of it's forms

Gomez, clad in a long nightshirt, took off his robe and hooked it over the back of the bedroom door. It had been a long day, he'd purchased 200 meters worth of train track and, with the help of Uncle Fester and little Pugsley, had laid it down all through the house. It had been an amazing wreck, the train ran all the way through the large manor, knocking over all sorts of bric-a-brac, and mama too! Finally it had gone soaring out the attic window, exploding nicely by the front porch. Mama and Morticia had cooked dinner over the flames it provided.

Morticia was standing out on their balcony, looking up at the moon. It was big and full and they could hear Fester howling at it somewhere in the distance. Gomez silently slipped behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling into her neck. She let out a small moan as his mustache tickled her neck.

"Dinner was lovely, cara mia," Gomez told her.

Morticia smiled softly at him, "You're welcome darling. Your train wreck provided the perfect oven."

"It was Pugsley's idea to have it fly out the window," Gomez replied proudly.

"He's really going places," Morticia remarked. "Very clever."

"Morticia," Gomez said tenderly. "Are you feeling alright? You've been acting very strangely all day."

"Have I, dear?"

He nodded, "Yes, well for starters, you forgot to make any lunch for Pugsley and I, we had to go hunting for it ourselves."

"I'm sorry, darling," Morticia's eyes widened as she realised she had forgotten to feed her toddler. "Did you find anything good?"

"Some toadstools out by the swamp," Gomez replied. "But little Pugsley had had his heart seat on that Walrus pie you'd promised him."

"I'll have to make him two for tomorrow, to make it up to him," she said absentmindedly.

"Come to bed," Gomez took her hand. "You look tired."

"Alright darling," Morticia replied. "I'll just stop in Pugsley's room and see that he's asleep first."

She made her way down the hall to the door with the little baby vultures on it, and gently eased it open. Her little boy was laying in his cage, gnawing at the bars that held him in. Morticia crossed the room and unlocked it, picking him up- huffing a little as she did so from the weight of the boy.

"Hello darling, I thought your father put you to bed an hour ago."

Pugsley nodded, "No sleep."

"Are you not tired, darling?"

Pugsley shook his head, "Hungry."

"It's a little late dear," Morticia told him.

"Hungry," he insisted.

"Alright darling," she lowered him to the floor and took his pudgy little hand.

Only just beginning to learn how to walk, he clutched tightly to his mother's hand, and then reached over his other hand and clutched the fabric of her nightdress. She walked very slowly, allowing the young boy to toddle alongside her, only occasionally tripping over the sheer fabric that fell over the nightwear. She picked him up again when they reached the stairs and carried him down, and the rest of the way to the kitchen, placing him on the counter top while she went over to the fridge, pulling out some left over yak and putting it in the oven.

"It won't be long darling," she told him, smoothing her hand over his hair.

"Tank Muzzer."

"You're welcome dear," Morticia placed her palms against the counter and, with a little jump, sat next to him.

Gomez, having gotten bored at waiting for his wife to return, and discovering neither mother nor child in the nursery, had come downstairs to the most predictable place for the pair of them at this hour, and stuck his head into the room.

"There's my lovely family," he beamed at them.

"Muzzer food," Pugsley pointed at the oven.

Morticia glanced over at the oven. The boy had an uncanny sense of knowing when food was ready. Allowing her husband to help her off the counter she made her way across the kitchen and took the meat out the oven, placing it on a plate. Gomez had put the boy into his chair at the table, and the food was given to him. His parents watched over him proudly and he grabbed it and tore at it with his teeth. It was only a matter of moments before he was covered in it, but he was clearly enjoying his meal. Gomez held his wife with one arm, placing a tender kiss on her soft, white cheek.

"He's a perfect little devil," he told her.

She glanced at him, smiling coyly, "I wonder how we'll cope with two of them."

"Two?" Gomez paused for a second and then his eyes widened. "Tish!"

Morticia nodded, "Yes, darling."

Gomez quickly pressed his lips against hers. From his place at the table the little boy piped up.

"Yick!"