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

Gomez watched his wife, who was sitting in her favourite chair knitting a tiny black bonnet. Their son Pugsley played at her feet, knotting the tendrils of her dress together. Morticia momentarily paused to place her hand on her rounded abdomen, with a gentle smile.

"Mother?" Pugsley, now almost two, looked up at her. "Okay?"

"Yes, dear," she replied. "I'm fine."

"Stomach hurt?"

"No, darling," she reached forward and took his hand, pulling him to his feet and towards her. "It's just your baby brother or sister. They were kicking me."

"On inside?" Pugsley tilted his head curiously at the woman.

Morticia nodded, taking the hand she still held and placing it on her stomach, just to the left of her navel, "Can you feel it?"

The boy giggled wickedly, "Did I kick you Mother?"

She nodded, "Much harder than this. I used to scream when you kicked me darling."

He laughed even harder, then looked towards his father, "I kicked mother from the inside!"

"I remember son," Gomez replied, raising his unlit cigar at the boy.

"I'm gonna tell Grandmama!" he shrieked, before half-toddling, half-running out of the room.

"Is it still kicking?" Gomez asked once the little boy had fled the room.

Morticia nodded, "This one's very gentle."

Gomez came over to her, "May I?"

"Of course, darling."

He placed his hand in the spot Pugsley had held his own. After a moment an almost unnoticeable tap nudged his hand.

"I'm sure this one will be a girl," Morticia said, placing her own slender hand on top of her husband's.

"Why's that, Tish?"

She gave a slight shrug, "I just feel like it is."

"Well, you were right about little Pugsley being a boy, so I'm sure you're right about this one too," he grinned at her. "Now, what are we going to name the little paloma?"

"I was thinking about Maloré," Morticia mused.

"Tish!"Gomez grabbed her arm. "That's French!"

"Ah, I can see that won't work..." Morticia chuckled slightly as her husband ran his lips along her arm. "What do you think of Lilith?"

"Lilith?"

Morticia nodded, "It means 'night'"

"I does have a certain ring to it," Gomez replied. "How do you feel about Abellona?"

Before she had a chance to answer they heard a loud wailing noise, followed by the cries of, "Mother! Father!"

"Pugsley!" Morticia's eyes widened, and she began struggling to get out of her chair.

Gomez helped her to her feet, and guided her towards the front door- the cry was coming from the front yard. He pushed open the door and looked out. Sitting at the edge of the garden by a little dug out grave- shovel still in hand -sat their wailing son. Gomez assisted Morticia down the stairs, and the pair hurried over to him. Morticia eased herself down to kneel down next to her son, and wrapped him in her arms.

"Hush now darling, what's wrong?" she asked.

"Lady scare me," he sobbed out.

"Lady?" Gomez sat cross legged next to his wife and son. "What lady?"

"Lady on the street," Pugsley replied between sobs.

Gomez looked out on to the street but saw no-one, he turned back to his son, "Now Pugsley, tell me exactly what happened."

"I's digging my grave," he pointed at the little hole in front of them. "And lady ask me what I was doing. I told her I getting ready for the baby, and she asked if I looking for it in cabb'ge pats, from the sork!"

"A stork in a cabbage patch!?" Morticia looked shocked. "Who would go spreading such lies to a child?"

"Pugsley, you know babies don't really come from a cabbage patch, don't you?" Gomez asked.

Pugsley nodded, "But what if lady was right?"

"She most certainly was not," Morticia replied firmly. "You know we told you where they come from."

He nodded, "Father put it in you after sex, and then it'll be borned and there'll be baby."

"That's right," Gomez nodded. "Well, almost anyway."

"So you see dear," Morticia let her son out of their embrace, picking up two sticks and twisting them together. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

"You go ahead and keep getting ready for the baby," Gomez nodded.

Morticia passed Pugsley the sticks, now formed into a perfect cross, "There you go dear, have fun."

Gomez pulled Morticia to her feet and the pair started to walk back to the house.

"Mother?" Pugsley called after them.

They turned to face him. He was holding a penknife, ready to engrave the cross.

"Yes, darling?"

"When is baby born?"

"It should be here on Wednesday," she replied.

"Baby, Wednesday," Pugsley said to himself, as he began carving the words into his cross.

"Wednesday," the two parents spoke in unison, quickly turning to look at each other.

"It's perfect!" Gomez exclaimed. "Why didn't we think of it sooner?"

"Baby Wednesday," Morticia smiled, placing her hand on her rounded stomach.

"I can hardly wait," Gomez replied.

Morticia's eyes suddenly widened, "Oh darling, you won't have to!"

She grimaced momentarily, then turned to him with a big smile.

"Tish?" Gomez reached out for her.

"Querido, it's time."