ã€ŠA Crossbow Aimed At the Heartã€‹


 Chapter 1: A Peculiar Request...

    The Addams family manor sat perched on a dreary hill at the end of an empty cul-de-sac, its steeples and arches giving it the character of a cat rearing to attack.

    While not a place which received many visitors, it had one today ¡ª standing out in front of its tall, wrought-iron gate was a slender young man in a brown peacoat.

    "Uh, good morning... here on business!" Jeremy Brandt spoke awkwardly in the direction of the gate.

    At a moment''s notice, the gate appeared to spontaneously spring to life, and steadily swung open with a strained creak.

    Jeremy shook his head in amusement, and began down the cobbled path toward the gothic mansion''s front door. He ran a hand through his semi-styled hair as he mulled over everything he felt he needed to remember for the consultation he¡¯d arrived to give. Memory wasn''t particularly his strongest attribute, which made him a mediocre accountant, but he''d been receiving steady work from the peculiar family living at the edge of town who, for whatever reason, had appeared to have taken a liking to him.

    "Jeremy!" exclaimed an ecstatic Gomez Addams, who had burst the door open just as Jeremy had reached his hand out to knock.

    "Hey!" Jeremy chuckled, "you''re always startling me like that, man."

    "Nonsense!" Gomez moved in to embrace him. "You''re exactly on time, the host should be here ready to greet you!"

    Gomez was a jubilant Castilian man with a list of eccentricities too long to count, one of which being the pencil thin mustache he sported above his million-dollar grin. Jeremy figured that the unbridled enthusiasm with which the guy approached life was the reason the 50-year-old was able to maintain his vigor. Then again, the family were also known to brew potions.

    Gomez lead Jeremy into the foyer where an enchanting Morticia Addams waited to greet him.

    "Jeremy, have you been keeping well?" she asked sweetly, promptly gracing his cheek with a kiss.

    "Uh,¡± he laughed awkwardly, "actually, it''s been a pretty dreary week for me¡ª¡°

    "Oh, well that''s wonderful to hear!" she exulted.

    He chuckled, as he knew better than to think she''d misheard him. Yet another Addams idiosyncrasy; he''d decided to himself that the family must collectively romanticize masochism, or something.

    "Now now, we have business to discuss!" proclaimed Gomez, ushering the party into the home''s library. The ornate gothic decor really made the entire manor feel like visiting a museum.

    "Pubert! You''ll crack your head playing on that! ¡ªCrack it again, I mean!" Gomez scolded joyfully.

    Jeremy turned his head to see young Pubert Addams swinging on the bookshelf ladder, rolling from one side to the other, cackling to himself.

    Jeremy had never seen a child with a mustache before, but Pubert inexplicably had one matching his father''s, as well as an identical combover haircut. It was perfectly ridiculous, but something Jeremy had come to expect, having visited this home as many times as he had over the past year.

    Still in play mode, Pubert ran toward the door screaming.

    "Hello Jeremy!" he yelled, inadvertently shoulder-checking Jeremy on his way out, causing him to drop his bag.

    "Oh, allow me," Morticia offered sympathetically, ¡°isn''t our son turning out to be just a terror?" she said with a glint in her eye, handing Jeremy his bag back.

    "He gets a little, uh, louder every time I see him," agreed Jeremy, massaging his ear.

    "Sit! Sit, let us make ourselves comfortable, please!" urged Gomez, pulling some armchairs over toward the desk in the centre of the room.

    "So," he continued, "we asked you to visit because we wish to discuss something, but first, we know you like to update us on the financial goings-on whenever you see us, so, please!"

    "Yes," Jeremy laughed, "well, no mailman seems willing to deliver any letters to this place, so this is our only option for correspondence after what you did to your phone line¡ª"

    Gomez cackled. "Ahhh yes, the poltergeist incident! How could I forget?" he beamed.

    "Right," Jeremy sympathized, chuckling awkwardly, "well, as far as the farm upstate, I''m happy to report that Pugsley has been able to post two consecutive months of profit ¡ª the tourist amenities we added have been a total boon for the place, all the people flocking to see Pugsley''s famous, uh, ¡®Frankenstein gourds¡¯,¡± he continued, "and his claim on America''s largest pumpkin is still intact, so there''s that too. I''m sure he can look forward to a great month when October rolls around."The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    "He''s just been thriving out there hasn''t he," Morticia gleamed, "I''m so proud to think of all of the little children he must have been able to traumatize!"

    ¡°Right¡­ Well, I told him that if he ever decided to set up a haunted maze that people out there go wild over that kind of thing," Jeremy added, "but yeah, not too much else to go over, I mentioned I might want authorization to open up that second account like we discussed last¡ª"

    "Whatever you think is best!" Gomez cut in, "Morticia and I trust you completely, Jeremy! Don''t we, mon cher?"

    Morticia nodded with a smile.

    "And how refreshing it is," Gomez continued, "we''ve always found those who have filled your role in the past to be thorns in our side, Jeremy, never accepting of our ways ¡ª our last wanted to have some city interior designer come and redecorate the house to improve its resale value, or some such nonsense... Like we''d ever sell this place!" he scorned. "Letting that man go was a snap decision after that."

    ¡°And with a fitting severance package, of course,¡± added Morticia, grinning wickedly.

    Jeremy pondered the literal interpretation she may have been alluding to.

    "In any case," Gomez giggled, "let us move on from these mundane matters!"

    He rested a hand on Jeremy''s shoulder.

    "We must confess, we have a considerable favor to ask of you..." He released Jeremy''s shoulder and slowly began to pace toward the window overlooking the courtyard.

    "It''s about our eldest, Wednesday," he began earnestly, "we''ve provided her the freedom she''s desired ¡ª as you know we''ve allowed her the use of our midtown property, we even sent our butler Lurch along with her¡ª"

    "We were skeptical to begin with that she''d be suited to life in the city," Morticia added, "but we fear that she''s taken the opportunity to become, well, a shut-in."

    Gomez turned. "As Addams'', we are well aware that an affinity for our fellow man doesn''t exactly run in our bloodline!" Gomez explained, "but that isn''t to say that our clan aren''t a social people ¡ª we both host and attend spirited events all year round! We have a vast extended family, living in all pockets of this world!"

    "We haven''t heard from her, not once, since she moved out..." Morticia said somberly. "Lurch came by the manor one time for some fire salts, and he told us she goes months without ever leaving the house."

    Jeremy was finding himself somewhat puzzled as to their purpose in telling the tale of their daughter¡¯s supposed rebellion. Admittedly, having not yet met the Addams¡¯ eldest, he was mildly curious of what she might be like. Though, if it were differences from her parents which had driven her away from them, in that case he wasn¡¯t sure it was wise to wonder what the Addams¡¯ peculiarities might look like absent their rampant jubilance.

    "Truly, it''s not about us," Gomez confessed, "we simply worry she''s allowing life to pass her by ¡ª we feel that life is something which ought be grasped by the horns!¡ª"

    "Or the neck," Morticia added with a coy smile.

    "We remember a vivaciously sadistic little girl, our Wednesday," he reminisced.

    "She used to have dreams of being a homicidal maniac..." added Morticia, "I don''t believe she''s killed in years!"

    "No..." agreed Gomez.

    Jeremy attempted a sympathetic laugh, though he wasn''t entirely sure he was in on the joke.

    "Well,¡± he started, "I''m sure if you went down and visited her that she''d be glad to see you¡­?¡±

    "Oh, we wouldn''t want to smother her like that," Morticia said plainly, to Jeremy''s puzzlement.

    "Okay..." he chuckled, "so, you want me to go down there and beg her to come home, or?¡ª"

    "No, nothing so blunt," Gomez answered, "we''d like you to audit her!" he said cheerfully, startling Jeremy. "We understand she''s been spending large during her time there, which of course is hardly a bother; our money is her money, but she doesn''t need to know that ¡ª better to have a little threat behind it, eh? Perhaps she gains the impression we''re ready to pull the plug without some moderation, that should at least get your foot in the door," he chortled.

    "My foot in the door, to?¡ª" Jeremy puzzled.

    "To turn her around! Have her find some passion!" Gomez exclaimed excitedly.

    "Right... okay," Jeremy rubbed his head, "but what makes you think I''m the person to do that?"

    "Oh, please! You''re more perceptive than you give yourself credit for,¡± Gomez encouraged, ¡°the two of you are of a similar age, you''ll have a common understanding ¡ª remind me your age Jeremy?"

    "I''m 23."

    "She just turned 21! It''s perfect!"

    "Right," Jeremy murmured. "...Wait, what do you mean, perfect for what?"

    Morticia and Gomez exchanged glances.

    Gomez approached him. "Well, to put it delicately... our family, us Addams'', well, we''ve always found it pertinent that our lineage be fruitful¡ª"

    "Oh, god¡ª" Jeremy began to back away. "Listen¡ª I''ll do the audit thing, I''ll maybe talk with her about... what you were saying, but I don''t feel comfortable with all this other stuff you''re talking about¡ª"

    "There''s no need to feel awkward, Jeremy!" Gomez sang, "I understand from what you tell me that you haven''t been with a lady in quite some time."

    Jeremy blinked in disbelief.

    "I believe you''ll find she''s inherited her looks from her mother..." Gomez continued, reaching out and kissing Morticia''s hand.

    "I need to, um," Jeremy stammered, "is there an offramp? For this discussion? I don''t¡ª"

    "All I''m saying is that you, Jeremy, would make a perfectly adequate son-in-law, and you know well what you would stand to inherit, were you to join this family," Gomez said warmly, clutching Jeremy by the shoulders.

    They both stared at him expectantly.

    "I think," he began tentatively, "that you are both very nice people, and that you''ve been good to me¡ª"

    "Of course, you may decide your feelings as they take you, Jeremy!" Gomez interjected, "but do go down there for us, yes? It need not be today! It need not be tomorrow! But rest on it, please. Bring her records of expenditures, tout it as a business visit." He began to walk Jeremy out.

    "Oh, and... best to arrive in the evening, I think," he smiled, "I''ll leave this to you as well, should there be any trouble." He pulled out a large key from his pocket, and placed it in Jeremy''s hand.

    "Do drop by again whenever you fancy," Gomez said with a grin, "we''d be overjoyed to hear how things are going!"

    Jeremy attempted a smile. "Sure, will do," he said half-heartedly.

    "Come!" Gomez opened his arms.

    Jeremy hugged him farewell, and returned a goodbye to Morticia, who waved to him from the foyer.

    Jeremy turned and left back down the cobbled path to his car.

    There would be times when he thought he had finally become accustomed to the Addams'' peculiarities, but then equally as often there were times when he thought to himself: God, did he work for some odd people.

 Chapter 2: Encounter and Dinner...

    Jeremy took one last glance at the street map as he pulled up to an intersection, and then placed it down on the passenger seat. He made a point not to have to drive into Manhattan too often, but thankfully he still felt somewhat familiar with the neighborhood which surrounded him.

    He rubbed his eyes ¡ª he wasn''t particularly looking forward to arriving at his destination. His previous conversation with Gomez, which laid the premise for the day¡¯s visit, had left Jeremy with the same pit in his stomach as every other set-up date gone wrong that he¡¯d ever been on.

    He brushed the thought aside ¡ª Gomez¡¯ absurd secondary instruction was obviously not the reason he¡¯d decided to come down here. In fact, this would be the only Addams property remaining that he hadn¡¯t yet seen in his time working for them.

    One more turn.

    Jeremy let out a short breath in amusement as he pulled into the street ¡ª the building he was looking for was unmistakable. Nestled among a row of tall, conjoined townhomes was one appearing at least twenty shades darker in its stone construction, as though it swallowed all light from its surroundings.

    ''Boy, they must love the Halloween crowds...'' he thought to himself, observing the distinctly gothic building as he parked on the street in front of it.

    He buttoned up his coat as a chilling breeze belted through the otherwise quiet Gramercy street, observing a single dead tree rooted in a tiny front yard as he strolled over to the stairs leading up to the entry.

    The front door itself was, like the rest of the exterior, black, and several sizes larger than seemed necessary, as if to intimidate unwanted visitors.

    Jeremy hadn''t forgotten the key Gomez had given him, but felt the need to knock anyway; he felt much less intrusive being invited into a stranger''s home than by barging in without notice.

    Without an answer, he tried the chunky iron door knocker instead.

    No response. He sighed, and unlocked it with his key.

    As he pushed the creaky, wooden door open, the light from outside streamed into what looked like complete blackness inside the house. Jeremy half-wondered to himself whether he would in fact find any living beings inside the place at all.

    As he closed the door behind him, his eyes adjusted to the much darker environment in which he now found himself.

    The interior was, much like the manor at which Jeremy had just been a day ago, gothic and ornate despite looking well-worn, and yet somehow felt even less homely ¡ª the walls showed dusty outlines where paintings had clearly been taken down, the blood-red rugs almost melded with the dark, oakwood floors they lay upon, and every window he could see was covered by blackout blinds. Even a large, tall window at the top of the tall staircase leading up to the second floor allowed no daylight into the house ¡ª the only light in the building emanated from the number of chandeliers and candelabras decorating the decrepit space. He felt out of place, standing there with his messenger bag under his arm.

    He took a few tentative steps forward, poking his head into the open doorways on either side.

    "Hello? Anyone home?" he asked the silent foyer.

    No reply.

    He checked the time. 6:30.

    ''Maybe evening starts later for these people...'' he thought.

    At that moment he heard a grunt come from somewhere deeper in the house. He turned his head toward the sound, and slowly began toward it. It took him through a large, antiquated, black-tile kitchen, with an open pantry which looked to contain mostly onions, garlic, sprout-covered potatoes, and wine bottles.

    The kitchen connected to another dimly-lit room, which had a small vintage television in the corner playing a football game on silent, and in the center of the room, what looked from behind to be a large throne. He watched the game for a moment, when a deep, growly voice emanating from right in front of him exclaimed in celebration.

    Startled, Jeremy realized his eyed had deceived him, and that the throne in the middle of the room was in fact a regular-sized chair with a gargantuan man sat upon it.

    Jeremy must have inadvertently vocalized his astonishment, as the man turned to notice him.

    "Oh, a little man has wandered in here," he said aloud, in an imposingly deep voice.

    ''Yeah, little compared to you!'' Jeremy¡¯s mind spun.

    "Hey!¡ª Hi!¡± he sputtered, attempting to regain his faculties, ¡°I¡¯m, uh, I''m here to see the lady of the house¡­ do you know if she''s in?"

    The man looked toward the doorway to the kitchen, then back to Jeremy. "Master Wednesday usually wakes when supper is ready."

    ¡°¡­Right, okay, so she''s here," Jeremy replied. He noticed the man''s face more in the light ¡ª he had white, cropped hair, his skin a colorless gray. His expressionless face reminded Jeremy of depictions of Frankenstein''s monster, but without the sewn-up scars and such.

    "Sorry ¡ª they did mention there''d be a butler here, I''ve forgotten what they called you though," he explained.

    "Lurch," he said, extending a hand. "Pleasure to make acquaintance."

    Lurch''s polite manners in contrast with the low growl of his voice made for an interesting impression, Jeremy thought.

    He shook Lurch''s hand, although it felt like a small child trying to handshake an adult. ¡°Sure, pleasure''s all mine, man,¡± he chuckled uneasily, ¡°I¡¯m Jeremy. Your, uh, your team''s winning, I take it?"

    Lurch grunted in affirmation, and turned his attention back toward the game.

    Jeremy took that as his cue to leave. He ventured back into the foyer, hoping to look for a library or study for him to set up with his materials.

    He continued to find the overall darkness of the place rather disorienting, added with the fact that flickering flames were certainly not the most static of light sources.

    To add to the sensation, he suddenly felt a chill grace the back of his neck.

    "Who are you?" a stony female voice inquired.

    He spun around to face the staircase, at the top of which stood an unimpressed Wednesday Addams, half-shrouded by darkness. Her dark hair dropped down below her shoulders, and she wore a lustrous, flowing black robe which extended to the floor. Candlelight danced off her unblemished pale skin.

    Words didn¡¯t manage to reach his lips for the first few moments.

    ¡°Jeremy,¡± he finally replied. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I wasn''t able to phone ahead, you uh, you don''t seem to have a line hooked up to the place¡ª"

    "That''s quite intentional, I assure you," she interjected sharply. "Did Lurch let you in here?"

    "No!¡ª No, uh, your parents sent me, they gave me a key," he faltered, "I knocked a couple times, I just¡ª"

    "Let yourself in, how lovely," she said impassively. Her callous stare unnerved him a little.

    He chewed his top lip, unsure what to say next.

    "So, what are you supposed to be, their doctor?" she asked.

    "No! No," he replied, "I''m uh, well, in a roundabout way I suppose I¡¯m the money manager for the entire Addams estate ¡ª your parents mostly just have me keeping tabs on their illiquid assets at the moment, um, of course, one of which I am currently standing inside¡ª"

    "They''re cutting me off?" she interrupted, still deadpan.

    "No!..."

    She stared expectantly.

    ¡°¡­Or, well,¡± he backtracked, remembering Gomez¡¯s request, ¡°I don¡¯t really know for sure, it might depend on¡ª¡°

    Wednesday rolled her eyes, turned and walked away from the landing.

    Jeremy quickly climbed up the stairs after her, while attempting to qualify his previous statement.

    "¡ªIt''s really not anything like that, there''s just a bit of¡ª"

    He followed her into the next room, where he found her relaxing in a leather armchair. It appeared to be the reading room, with bookshelves lining the walls. She gestured toward a great mahogany desk opposite her and in front of a tall window, which of course was also shuttered by blackout blinds. He acquiesced and took a seat, emptying a binder of papers from his bag. He took care not to drop them too close to a lit candle at one corner of the desk, planted inside of a prop of a human skull. Or, at least, he supposed that it was a prop¡­

    ¡°Right, then,¡± he muttered, as he struggled to get situated in the dim environs. ¡°You''re not like, a vampire, are you?¡­ No light in here?" he joked meekly.

    He glanced up at her and she was simply looking at him, though he thought he noticed a subtle wry smirk from one side of her mouth. He escaped her menacing gaze and began to set his papers in order.

    "My family had an accountant. He was... older," she eventually retorted, "how do I know you''re not an imposter, scheming after the secrets of our fortune?¡±

    He wasn''t sure she was even being sarcastic. ¡°Uh, well, they took me on just over a year ago, should be coming up on... 13? Yeah, 13 months now."

    Her eyes narrowed. "That''s only a few weeks after I left home..." she began slowly. "Somewhat suspicious, wouldn''t you agree?"

    He looked at her quizzically. ¡°Uh, why¡­?¡±

    ¡°Are you a Pisces?¡± she continued, talking past him, ¡°my father always talked about wanting to have a Pisces around.¡±

    ¡°¡­Maybe they missed having somebody your age in the house, I don¡¯t know,¡± he offered.

    She leaned forward. "Someone with healthy organs, I''d imagine, you know, just in case?" she mocked. "Did they ask you your blood type in the interview?"

    He chuckled uneasily. ¡°Listen, Wednesday, you can like, relax, I mean, this isn''t an audit per se¡ª"

    "No?" she asked, unconvinced.

    "No, I''ll explain, just give me a second," he encouraged.

    She leaned back while keeping her eyes on him, making him feel as though he were being studied for weaknesses.

    ¡°Are you familiar with the tale of the Sword of Damocles?" she asked after a moment, a hint of amusement in her voice.

    He didn¡¯t wish to let her continue veering the conversation in every which direction, so he attempted to continue searching through his papers without humoring her.

    "The, uh... the king with sword above his head?" he finally replied once her expectant silence had become uncomfortable.

    She raised an eyebrow slightly. ¡°The life of a king was Damocles¡¯ wish,¡± she recounted, ¡°of course, he was clueless as to the anxiety-inflicting apprehensions that a real ruler is constantly under, and so his king chose to demonstrate this to him in the most unambiguous way possible.¡±

    Jeremy had found what he had been rummaging for, and was hoping she¡¯d arrive at her point sooner rather than later. Though, as the moments passed, he began to wonder if she were somehow waiting for him to continue with her story.

    ¡°I¡ª yeah, I think I¡¯ve heard it,¡± he offered, ¡°I¡¯m uh, assuming that it isn¡¯t super pertinent though, right? So¡­¡°

    Still she refused to speak. He felt as though she were somehow dressing him down with only her stare.

    ¡°¡­Or, maybe it is? I don¡¯t¡ª¡° he caught himself, ¡°wait ¡ª are you saying that you think that I¡¯m here because I fancy ruling over you or something?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be interested to find out,¡± she leaned forward. Her wry smile had reappeared. ¡°Do you imagine yourself living in this place instead of me? Do you really imagine you¡¯d fare here unharmed?¡±

    ¡°What? No¡ª¡° he began in protest, until he noticed that she had finally ended her scrutinous observation of him, instead allowing her gaze to list toward the ceiling.

    By the time Jeremy followed suit, fearful instincts caused him to immediately flinch his entire body backward, as he discovered that there was in fact a full medieval sword suspended high above the chair he''d been sitting on, the blade aiming downward. He was equally startled that he hadn''t noticed it as he''d walked in, though the entire house did have unusually tall ceilings.

    ''And here I thought the parents were something...'' he thought in panic, as he caught his breath.

    She grinned at him maniacally.

    "You¡ª¡° he panted, utterly bewildered, ¡°What is the purpose of that?! Do you try to kill everybody who steps foot in this place?!¡±

    Her expression returned to normal.

    ¡°Only trespassers,¡± she retorted, hopping up and turning to leave the room.

    "Listen, I¡¯m not here to boss you around, or make your life miserable,¡± he interjected, still uneasy about the blade hanging from the ceiling by only a strand of wire, ¡°there are just some like, expenditures your folks were curious about, that¡¯s literally it.¡±

    She stopped.

    ¡°That¡¯s what that list is?¡± she motioned toward the spreadsheet scrunched up in his hand, his knuckles still white from the fright.

    He huffed and attempted to flatten the papers out against his body. ¡°Yeah, I mean, it won¡¯t take long, or anything, they just want me to¡ª¡°

    "Fine, but walk with me," she interrupted.

    He sighed, trailing after her back out onto the landing.

    "Sure, well, I mean, on the 5th of last month here, you¡¯ve got a, seems like a bulk order of... candles? 450 candles, 14 thousand dollars¡­? Like, is that¡ª¡±

    Wednesday only offered a slight crinkle of the eyebrows in response, continuing down into the next room.

    "I mean, sure, I guess that''s what you use for light around here¡­ You¡¯re probably overpaying though,¡± he mumbled, penning a mark against the amount.

    When Jeremy looked back up, he realized she¡¯d led him into the bathroom, where she had just finished drawing a bath. She began tying her hair up into a bun.

    "Oh, sorry, did you want me to¡ª" before he could finish, she disrobed in one motion and slinked into the tub, paying him no mind. He thought to himself that she moved rather like a cat.

    After what must have been several stunned seconds, she finally turned to him.

    She rolled her eyes. "You can sit," she gestured toward a high-back chair facing the bathtub, over which she had draped the robe she¡¯d been wearing a moment ago.

    "Just hang that over the door for me," she added.

    After a beat, he did as she instructed and then sat down, doing his best to steer his mind toward observing the craftsmanship of the tiling on the walls.

    He could sense her amusement over his predicament even without seeing her face.

    ¡°Will you be reporting on this portion of the visit when you return to them?¡± she sneered.

    The sides of the tub were fairly tall, but Jeremy still wasn''t entirely sure where he should look. "Wednesday, I¡ª"

    ¡°What other excuses did they have to dredge up in order for you to have to come all the way down here?¡± she went on.

    He felt her penetrating eyes on him.

    ¡°I mean¡­ what was the alternative?¡± he argued.

    ¡°Send a letter,¡± she replied curtly, turning to stare idly ahead.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    He craned to look at her finally, doing his best to ignore whatever was visible below the waterline.

    ¡°And if they had?¡± he asked. ¡°What would you have said?¡±

    She side-eyed him. ¡°You do know that you¡¯re only here because they wanted me to interact with somebody from the ¡®outside¡¯?¡± she remarked, shifting uncomfortably in the tub.

    Jeremy was finding himself uncomfortable with how much she¡¯d been able to surmise as far as her parents¡¯ intentions, and the pretense under which he¡¯d been instructed to visit. Naturally, he didn¡¯t feel as though he¡¯d had much of a choice, and so he¡¯d hardly have considered it to have been his pretense, but still, the point awkwardly remained.

    Surprisingly enough, Wednesday continued to vent her frustrations to him.

    ¡°They¡¯ve been all about expanding the family, in terms of the lineage¡­ It had started ever since I was wi¡ª¡° she faltered, ¡°well, never mind. I think they¡¯re simply worried that they¡¯re not as important as they once were ¡ª socially, I mean.¡±

    Jeremy paused for a moment. The types of considerations she was describing almost struck him as the kind he¡¯d read about concerning some sort of medieval lordship in a fantasy novel. Though, he couldn¡¯t say the pieces didn¡¯t fit ¡ª Gomez had been rather obnoxiously insistent on having this face-to-face interaction take place. On the positive side, at least now Jeremy knew that her parents¡¯ machinations were secret to neither Wednesday nor himself ¡ª it actually took a load off his mind.

    The only anxiety he felt in the current moment stemmed from the taboo that was his immediate situation.

    He stood up and turned to make his exit, before she could concoct a way to add to his discomfort.

    ¡°You do feel awkward, having them put you in this position, no?¡± she posited, before he could leave.

    He shook his head in befuddlement. ¡°I¡ª yes, of course, yes,¡± he bumbled, glancing back at her. ¡°Not that you care, clearly, or you wouldn¡¯t have¡­ I don¡¯t know, all this,¡± he managed to finish, gesturing in her direction.

    She ignored the second comment, instead deciding to press him further. ¡°Do you ever plan to stand up to them?¡± she smirked, folding her arms over the side of the tub to face him, ¡°do they have you contracted into some type of indentured servitude?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ I¡ª¡° he stammered, failing to find words. He didn¡¯t really feel like arguing the point anymore. She also seemed to possess a unique knack for exhausting his social stamina.

    While he wasn¡¯t yet fully confident in his ability to read her facial expressions, hers seemed to change into one he could only describe as pity.

    ¡°Okay, well, you can go now if you want,¡± she said glumly, laying back again and turning her gaze toward the ceiling. "Lurch should be making supper by now. We can continue your ¡®not audit¡¯ afterward.¡±

    "Sure, yeah, I guess we could do that,¡± he managed, before leaving.

    He gingerly closed the door behind him, though he didn''t imagine the household''s privacy etiquette even demanded it.

    He dropped his shoulders in exhaustion. On top of everything, he wasn¡¯t particularly accustomed to working late into the night. Presumably a home-cooked meal would serve as a pick-me-up, though he felt the need to enquire as to what exactly that would entail ¡ª when it came to the Addams¡¯, he knew better than to presume to know what to expect.

    After dropping his papers back in the study, he ventured slowly downstairs to be greeted by a smell he couldn''t describe. Poking his head into the kitchen, he spotted Lurch in front of three tall pots boiling all at once. He thought Lurch looked somewhat comical wearing a chef''s apron.

    The giant turned to notice him.

    "Germy!" said Lurch with enthusiasm.

    "Ger¡ª Oh, you mean¡ª? Right, sure," he managed to laugh, "it''s Jeremy, but, that''s good..."

    He noticed a pile of used rat traps in the corner of the room.

    "Big rodent problem in this area?" Jeremy asked cautiously.

    Lurch grunted in agreement. ¡°Nibble on fingers when you sleep."

    Jeremy recoiled a little at the thought. He tried to peer into one of the pots that were boiling away. The mixture was a dark red.

    "It smells... interesting," he remarked, "what is it?"

    "Making ratatouille," said Lurch.

    Jeremy''s stomach let him know that the meal was well awaited.

    "You¨C" Jeremy glanced back at the rat traps. He felt queazy all of a sudden.

    ''This has got to be some kind of joke...'' he thought, while his heart sank.

    He swallowed. "Are they... are they in there now?" he asked quiveringly.

    "Hm?" Lurch looked confused. "The tomatoes?"

    Jeremy let out a sigh in relief. "Oh, that''s the tomato sauce, of course," he panted. "Man, between the rat traps and the giant pots, for a second I really thought you were making the ratatouille out of actual rats..."

    "Oh," Lurch smiled, "no, master Wednesday is vegetarian since being here. Had me learn whole new recipe book just for her."

    "Oh, I see,¡± Jeremy mused.

    "Besides, rat flesh, not to my liking, very stringy," Lurch continued.

    Jeremy chuckled nervously.

    Backing away, he decided to wander around a little. He browsed down the corridor on the other side of the staircase, which opened to a narrow dining room containing a stone fireplace and a table long enough to seat a dozen people. The corridor contained a couple other rooms which were closed, however the door at its very end was cracked open slightly. Curious, Jeremy ventured over and pushed on it.

    There were no candles inside to light up this room, but as Jeremy strained to see he could perceive a slight drop down past the doorway, where the floorboards appeared to end. Taking a tentative step down, he felt that the ground was gravel. There appeared to be a number of old closets haphazardly lined around the edges of the room, some of them leaning on one another, some laying on their side.

    With some apprehension, he took another pace forward. It was odd ¡ª in the center of the room the ground appeared to fall away. If there indeed was a large hole in the ground, Jeremy didn''t desire to test the theory. As he stared down, he felt a faint breeze grace his skin. The air felt moist.

    ''Does it lead somewhere?'' he wondered.

    He backpedaled to the safety of solid ground, shaking his head in befuddlement.

    ''I''m gonna get myself killed staying in this place too long...'' he mused.

    At that moment, he turned to hear the low rumble of Lurch''s voice carry through the house: "Dinner is served!"

    Jeremy returned the door to its ajar position and made his way into the dining room, where he found Lurch huddled over, working on lighting the fireplace.

    ¡°Hope you find it to your liking," Lurch gestured toward the table, where a humongous-sized dish filled with colorful slices of vegetables sat, steaming.

    ¡°Geez, are we having guests?" exclaimed Jeremy.

    "Not beside you, no,¡± Lurch paused. "...I have a high metabolism..."

    "Oh," Jeremy nodded with a chuckle, "fair enough."

    He took a serving and sat down near the head of the table, which had a somewhat larger chair he supposed was Lurch''s seat.

    As the food cooled, he took a spoonful and was pleasantly surprised. Jeremy was no chef, but he felt the sauce was seasoned to perfection, especially for being made from scratch in a dingy kitchen.

    As he went for another spoonful, Wednesday wandered through the doorway to join the dinner party. She was now wearing a shabby, dark, long-sleeved dress with white collars, which hugged her body in a way that made him wonder if it might be a size too small. She had on black tights, and on her feet a pair of plush slippers of the same color. Her hair had now been tied into two long braids, resting on either shoulder. She stopped, clearly not appreciating Jeremy observing her as she approached the table.

    "Is Lurch''s food not to your liking?" she chided.

    ¡°Um, no, it¡¯s really good actually,¡± he said, finally placing in his mouth the spoonful he''d been holding. "You know what you''re doing in there, hey, big guy?" he gestured pleasantly at Lurch, who acknowledged with a grunt.

    He glanced back at Wednesday, who seemed to nod in satisfaction.

    "Lurch comes from a long line of culinary talent actually," she said, taking her seat. "His grandmother was once known as the only living woman able to bake a twenty-four layer cake."

    Jeremy nodded along.

    Lurch stood, vocalizing contentment, as he¡¯d finally gotten the fire burning. Wednesday seemed to meet him with an expression of gratitude, as he joined the party at the table with a thud.

    "Mother and father rarely allowed Lurch to sit with the family for dinner," she remarked toward Jeremy, portioning a serving of food for herself and then for Lurch, who shrugged, not seeming fussed.

    Jeremy was just relieved to see that Wednesday was capable of exhibiting somewhat of a warmer demeanor.

    They all ate quietly for a few moments.

    "Kind of a crazy room down the hall there," Jeremy broke the silence.

    Wednesday looked up. "I''d ask you not to go down there ¡ª I''m attempting to grow a delicate species of cave mushroom."

    ¡°Right¡­¡± he replied, perplexed, ¡°was it like that before you got here?¡±

    She narrowed her eyes at him. ¡°Like what¡­?¡±

    ¡°The¡ª I don¡¯t know, what is it? A sinkhole?¡±

    Her eyes had turned to stone. ¡°Is this what you¡¯re really here to do ¡ª snoop around and see if I¡¯ve made any unsanctioned modifications to the home¡­?¡±

    He rubbed his eyes and sighed. ¡°No, I don¡¯t care, truly ¡ª every property you guys own are all weird as hell. I was just curious, is all¡­¡±

    She continued to look at him. ¡°You think of us as weird?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡ª I mean, you aren¡¯t a particularly normal group of people, no,¡± he remarked, filling his mouth with food.

    Wednesday had fully paused from eating. ¡°And do you consider us to be unworthy of space on this earth because we don¡¯t fit inside of a tiny little box of your understanding?¡± She spoke with a measured hostility.

    Jeremy took a beat, placing his spoon down slowly. He honestly hadn¡¯t expected to have even been capable of offending her.

    ¡°You¡ª no, what do you mean?¡± he began innocently.

    She leant back and finally broke eye contact with him. ¡°I pity people who consider it a point of pride to be no different from anybody else ¡ª specks in a colony of ants, all marching in the same direction.¡± She glanced back at him. ¡°That¡¯s what ¡®normal¡¯ means.¡±

    Fire danced across her hazel eyes.

    Jeremy wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d be able to find anything disarming to say, so he gingerly returned to his meal.

    ¡°Lurch, could you pass me the salt?¡± he heard her say with a sigh.

    Perhaps she was right. He normally couldn¡¯t stand people like her, the way she was so sure of herself, but perhaps that was merely because it was a trait which he envied. The mind could be such a bothersome thing. He supposed he did feel like a bit of an outsider himself, sometimes ¡ª most of the time he¡¯d rather stay in and play whatever new video-game he¡¯d been able to pick up that week than to go out and socialize by conventional means. He happened to know plenty of people who¡¯d consider that to be out-of-the-norm, perhaps call him an introvert, or something.

    He had to shoot a glance over the table quickly to confirm that his thoughts weren¡¯t somehow being overheard.

    He dabbed his lips with a napkin, and then watched in surprise as Lurch finished off the entire rest of the Ratatouille dish by himself.

    Wednesday had just about finished with her food as well, and was almost beginning to look bored.

    She caught his eye for a moment, and he assumed that she was concocting another jab. He quickly thought of something mundane to ask, so that she wouldn¡¯t be able to.

    ¡°What do you usually do around here anyway?¡± he wondered, ¡°besides, uh¡­ sleeping?

    She leant forward and clasped her hands together casually. ¡°Oh, occasionally I lure strange men in here, murder them brutally, and then repurpose all of their belongings for my own uses.¡±

    He pressed his lips together. ¡°Oh yeah?¡­¡±

    ¡°What else do you have on you, besides your work bag?¡± she pressed, impishly.

    ¡°¡­My wallet?¡± he replied, disinterestedly.

    ¡°Let me see,¡± she requested.

    Jeremy shook his head and half smiled. ¡°No, I¡¯m okay.¡±

    She slumped back in her chair, looking bored again, while Jeremy cleaned off his plate.

    He spotted a grandfather clock in the corner of the room, which didn¡¯t appear to be functioning. His watch had the time at around 8:30. He somehow didn¡¯t imagine Wednesday¡¯s parents would mind if he charged them overtime rates for this visit. In fact, they often insisted that he bill them for things that he couldn¡¯t imagine charging a client for under normal circumstances, such as getting himself a new bag, or a meal for himself after making the drive out to their manor. It was some form of pampering, he was sure of it.

    ¡°We don¡¯t need you coming back here and bothering us again tomorrow, by the way,¡± Wednesday suddenly remarked, noticing he¡¯d finished eating, ¡°so how about you go ahead and finish up with whatever dull bookkeeping you came down here for.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah, okay,¡± he replied, pulling himself away from his thoughts. ¡°Your¡ª oh, thank you," Jeremy remarked toward Lurch, who fetched his finished dish along with the rest of the table¡¯s, and exited toward the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

    "I think they wanted me to, uh¡­¡± he began again, struggling to remember his place.

    She grew impatient. "If my parents are going to be placing conditions on me staying here, why don''t you go ahead and state them."

    He tilted his head indecisively. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t really think that¡¯s what they¡¯re going for, to be honest¡­¡±

    Wednesday let out a quiet chuckle in disbelief. ¡°They really are cruel to send you down here all by yourself for this,¡± she smirked, ¡°by what day exactly do they expect us to be wed?¡±

    ¡°No¡ª no, we¡¯re not doing that,¡± he squirmed.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, I¡¯m plenty used to it,¡± she shook her head, still vaguely grinning, ¡°so I¡¯d bet that all of that other business was just a ruse then?¡±

    He sighed in exasperated fashion. ¡°I guess¡ª unless you want me to do your taxes, or something. You¡¯re pretty much the only Addams whom I know nothing about.¡±

    The last comment evoked a conflicted expression. ¡°There¡¯s nothing really to know,¡± she said plainly.

    He contemplated for a moment, not entirely sure what to say.

    ¡°You get out of here much?¡± he offered, trying to seem as casual as possible, ¡°I get pretty cooped up sometimes, I don¡¯t know.¡±

    She looked suspiciously at him, as though unsure of his intention, but decided to bite anyway. ¡°I do leave, occasionally, while Lurch is asleep," she pondered, ¡°I think¡­ Last month, probably."

    ¡°¡­Just at night, huh?¡± he replied, ¡°That, just¡ª that¡¯s always been your sleep schedule?¡±

    She shrugged. "Carpe noctem."

    He nodded along, to her amusement. Part of him had merely been curious as to whether he¡¯d be able to have a regular conversation with her. He¡¯d be lying to himself if he said that he didn¡¯t find parts of her personality to be engaging. She was strange, though.

    Slowly, and somewhat deliberately, Wednesday stood from her chair and moved over toward the fireplace. ¡°Do you live here, in the city?¡± she asked over her shoulder.

    ¡°Uh, I¡¯ve been looking for a place," he replied a little timidly, "I''m renting the guest house from my parents at the moment."

    "Must be fun," she jested, warming her hands, without turning to face him.

    "Oh, I have no privacy," he chuckled.

    ¡°You must be relieved to have normal parents, though, I¡¯m sure,¡± she added.

    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t know,¡± he grimaced, ¡°I always kinda feel like they add five years to my age in their head whenever they judge whatever it is I¡¯m doing.¡±

    She gave him a sideways glance in curiosity.

    ¡°Ah, like, I don¡¯t know,¡± he continued, ¡°they sorta flipped out one time when I mentioned that I''d decided to take a semester off before my final year at college," he said.

    She was silent for a moment. Jeremy wondered if he should perhaps join her by the fire to make conversing a little easier.

    ¡°What¡¯d you do instead?¡± she finally asked.

    ¡°Oh, I uh,¡± he chuckled, ¡°we road-tripped the Great Lakes. Couple of buddies of mine, we rented a Winnebago, the whole deal. Was kind of exhausting by the end of it, to be honest, but we always wanted to do it, so¡­¡±

    He couldn¡¯t quite tell what she was thinking. He supposed that compared to the oddly macabre, and vaguely magical world she was from, his stories probably seemed fairly humdrum.

    When she finally turned around, her eyes seemed to dart around the room; anywhere but at him.

    ¡°I¡ª¡° he stopped, as they had both begun to speak at the same time.

    She seemed to roll her eyes at herself, moreso than at him.

    ¡°I might,¡± she began, ¡°you know, get a glass of water or something, do you want one too?¡­¡±

    He¡¯d actually been certain that she was about to ask him to leave.

    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± he replied, ¡°that¡¯d be great, thanks.¡±

    She left the room, leaving him to drum against his leg with his fingers awkwardly. He decided to get up and make use of the fire instead. The masonry around the fireplace was as ornate as anything else in the house ¡ª now that he thought about it, the place probably would fetch a small fortune, even without any fixing up.

    He turned to see Wednesday standing in the doorway looking at him, stone-faced as usual, holding out one of the beverages for him to take.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said, taking the unusually pointy glassware into his hand and having a sip.

    ¡°You¡¯ll sleep well tonight,¡± she remarked, nodding toward his drink.

    He looked down at it, perplexed.

    ¡°My father always took a sedative in the later hours ¡ª he told me that this was typical of adult men,¡± she explained, ¡°I thought you¡¯d appreciate it.¡±

    He looked at her in disbelief.

    ¡°I¡¯m only joking,¡± she retorted, taking her original place in front of the fire, next to him. He noticed her little smirk, from the corner of his eye.

    Oddly enough, she now seemed eager to fill the silence.

    ¡°How¡¯d you find it, anyway ¡ª learning to count?¡± she asked.

    He puzzled at her, but she offered no further explanation.

    ¡°You m¡ª Oh, sure,¡± he said, as it clicked for him, ¡°you¡¯ve still got the knives out, huh?¡± He smiled at her, while she seemed to try not to smile back.

    ¡°It was fine, I guess,¡± he continued, ¡°three years isn¡¯t horrendous, I suppose, as far as degrees go.¡±

    ¡°Any despised professors?¡± she prodded.

    ¡°Eh, I guess, but also not really,¡± he mused.

    He turned to look at her again.

    ¡°Have you¡­ ever?¡± he asked, ¡°Or thought about going, or?¡±

    She pursed her lips as she considered his question.

    ¡°I find myself quite enamored with the realm of literature¡­ I don¡¯t think I could say the same about academia, however,¡± she replied. ¡°Besides, I wouldn¡¯t be eager to place myself back into any kind of environment that even remotely resembles any school I¡¯ve ever been to.¡±

    Jeremy nodded. ¡°I mean, for what it¡¯s worth,¡± he offered, ¡°it¡¯s really not like high school, or whatever, at all¡­ Or, maybe only a tiny bit. Definitely less of the vibe of a slave labor camp.¡±

    She gave him a smirk again, and took a sip of her drink.

    When the silence returned, he slipped a hand into his pocket and sort of swayed back and forth, awkwardly.

    She glanced at him. ¡°You can leave if you want, you know,¡± she commented, ¡°I¡¯m not meaning to keep you from anything.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fi¡ª¡° he couldn¡¯t manage to delay a yawn.

    ¡°Seems like it¡¯s your bedtime,¡± she said rhetorically.

    Jeremy held his hand against his mouth, hoping that his yawning fit had concluded.

    He chuckled. ¡°Uh, you know, it¡¯s whatever, I¡¯ll get out of your hair if you want.¡±

    She hummed in agreement, and they ventured slowly back into the foyer.

    He tilted the empty glass back and forth in his hand. ¡°Did you want me to ri¡ª¡°

    A thud originating from above them reverberated through the house, cutting him off mid-sentence. Jeremy glanced around, mildly alarmed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind that,¡± Wednesday remarked, ¡°probably just an owl. I believe there¡¯s a skylight up there in the roof somewhere, that¡¯s likely why it makes such a racket.¡±

    He scratched his head. ¡°No kidding,¡± he replied, ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen an owl in Manhattan.¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°They¡¯re around. A few different species of bats, too.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± he nodded, ¡°I¡¯ve seen some of them from time to time, in Central Park and stuff.¡±

    ¡°Hm,¡± her eye twinkled, ¡°they¡¯re quite attracted to this place, actually. We¡¯d probably see a fair amount of them if we were to go out back, especially now, coming out of the colder months.¡±

    ¡°Bats are pretty cool,¡± he bantered, ¡°some of the uh, stuff that I like to read has a bit to do with, um¡ª well, you know, it¡¯s fairly bat-related, I suppose¡­¡±

    He did his best to resist mentioning the words ¡®comic-book¡¯ or ¡®Batman¡¯.

    ¡°I see,¡± she responded, ¡°I suppose if you ever found yourself back here in the future we could go out there and see if we could spot some, or something.¡±

    Jeremy couldn¡¯t help but linger on that comment, a little, as it notioned toward the idea of the two of them spending more time together.

    Wednesday seemed to realize it too. She looked down at her shoes for a moment.

    ¡°You¡¯ll probably need your bag, won¡¯t you?¡± she remarked, before he could say anything, ¡°where is it?¡±

    ¡°Oh, uh,¡± he replied, ¡°I must¡¯ve dropped it back in the study up there, I guess. I can grab it, lemme just¡ª¡°

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, I¡¯ll go get it,¡± she said, placing her empty water glass in his other hand, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want you to hurt yourself,¡± she sneered. ¡°You can leave those by the sink, if you¡¯d like.¡±

    Somewhat charmed, he did as she¡¯d said. While he was at it, he also poked his head out into the room behind the kitchen, expecting to find Lurch there watching the TV again, but he supposed he must¡¯ve turned in for the night.

    He crossed into the foyer again, in time to see Wednesday traipsing back down the staircase with what she¡¯d retrieved for him.

    ¡°Is this your taste, or did my parents buy this for you?¡± she asked with some undertone, tracing her fingers over the deep brown leather finish.

    ¡°No, that¡¯s¡­ I picked it out,¡± he squirmed, omitting the fact that they¡¯d all but paid for it.

    She rolled her eyes at him, though it almost felt playful by this point.

    "So¡­ what''re you gonna do all night, anyway?¡± he asked, allowing her to place the bag back in his hands.

    She was hesitant. "Well," she finally said, "I''m partway through reading Dostoevsky''s Crime and Punishment, so I''ll probably finish that."

    "Oh," he replied, starting to move toward the door.

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± she murmured. ¡°I hope it¡¯s not a horribly long commute for you, getting back,¡± she added.

    ¡°Uh,¡± he chuckled, yawning again, ¡°it¡¯ll be just as bad as it was making it over here, I guess.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± she empathized, ¡°long car rides certainly don¡¯t agree with me.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s fair,¡± he replied, ¡°it¡¯s maybe a bit better when you¡¯re driving, but only a bit ¡ª obviously you can¡¯t really rest your eyes or anything.¡±

    She nodded, looking on.

    "Well... uh, it was nice meeting you," he held out his hand.

    She reluctantly took it. They slowly shook hands, then stood awkwardly for a moment.

    "You know," she began, and then almost immediately looked as though she regretted it, ¡°uh¡­ well, if you want, if you didn''t feel like having to drive back to your parents'' tonight, we have¡­ you know, we have a guest bed upstairs..." She looked at her shoes again. "You know, if you wanted..."

    "What like, stay the night?" he replied.

    She glared at him.

    Jeremy was too tired to even read into the situation, so that felt reason enough not to get on the road.

    "Um... okay, sure, yeah, that¡¯s, uh, thanks," he babbled.

    "Okay," said Wednesday, "I don''t make very much noise or anything either, so, you won''t be disturbed..."

    "Oh, great," he said.

    Neither of them moved.

    "So, I''ll show you the room," she finally said, "it''s up here, just to the left of¡­ yeah,¡± she somewhat feebly gestured, leading him up the stairs.

    He followed her into the guest room, placing his bag down once again, near the door.

    She turned to him.

    ¡°Well, Lurch will be in the room next to you, actually... you may hear him snoring..." she said.

    As if on cue, a low rumble penetrated their shared wall, as the giant slept.

    "Oh," he laughed sleepily, "I''m sure I''ll manage."

    "I''d put out the candles before you turn in, so you don''t get accidentally burned alive," she added quietly.

    "Okay... gotcha," he noted.

    "Um... okay, well," she mumbled, "have a pleasant night."

    She turned and left, closing the door for him.

    Without even pulling down the covers, Jeremy dropped onto the bed and fell immediately asleep.

    The candle flames flickered through the night.

 Chapter 3: Comparing Hobbies...

    Jeremy grumbled awake the following morning, to the smell of burnt candle wax. Sitting up and stretching for a moment, he wasn''t even entirely sure it was morning but for the sliver of light peeking in from behind the set of blackouts covering the bedroom window. He checked his watch and it was 6am. He shrugged ¡ª it had been about as good a night¡¯s rest as he¡¯d been getting lately.

    He sauntered over to where he could make out the outline of the window and inched the blind away from the glass, in an effort to wake his eyes up. His room had a view over a small, cobbled courtyard and a garden, where it looked like Wednesday or Lurch must have been attempting to grow red roses. They looked a little worse for wear. He let go of the blind again, preserving the sacrosanct darkness of the house.

    Taking a peek out his door, he couldn''t hear a thing besides Lurch snoring away in the adjacent room. He ventured a step out, noticing that the study opposite him was shut. He figured Wednesday must have been using the room to read.

    He rocked back and forth indecisively.

    ''Well it''s not like I''m planning to stay for breakfast ¡ª I''d better just let her know I''m leaving,'' he decided.

    He tiptoed across the landing to the door, giving it a couple of quiet knocks.

    He figured he¡¯d mention that he wanted to make sure his car wasn¡¯t on the street for when the no-parking period came into effect in a few hours, or something like that. He couldn¡¯t really imagine there being any kind of awkward, long goodbye. He anticipated opening the door to find her sitting there mysteriously, in her leather armchair, reading one of her crime books, or whatever it was she¡¯d mentioned to him the previous night. Perhaps she¡¯d be wearing the same dark dress she did the previous night. He briefly pictured her with one leg crossed over the other, laying back comfortably into the back of the chair, her dark braids resting delicately on her chest, heaving slowly, up and down as she softly breathed...

    Shaking his head, he dispelled the thought.

    He realized he hadn''t heard a reply. He inched the door open.

    "...Wednesday?" he whispered. There was nobody in the room.

    ''Oh...'' he thought.

    Jeremy closed the door again, and looked around. He decided that he needed to use the bathroom before anything else. As he went to enter, Wednesday popped her head out from the next room over.

    "Jeremy," she said.

    She briefly fiddled with one of her braids as she stepped out to meet him.

    "Oh¡ª hey," he answered, "what, uh, what''s up?"

    "...I heard you say my name?" she said.

    "Y¡ª yeah, I thought you might''ve been in there reading," he replied.

    "Oh," she said, "yeah... I finished it after you went to sleep. I was just in my bedroom."

    "Ah," he nodded.

    "Did... you sleep okay?" she asked shyly.

    "Yeah, slept fine, yeah, just an early riser is all," he reassured her.

    Her attention drifted above his eye-line.

    ¡°Did you already style your hair¡­?¡± she asked snidely.

    ¡°Huh? Oh¡ª¡° he ran a hand through it bashfully, ¡°I don¡¯t know, it just kind of sits like that, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± she shot back, in amusement.

    He thought he noticed her bite her lip, though he might have imagined it.

    She glanced at the bathroom door. "Oh, I didn''t mean to keep you¡ª"

    "Yeah, no, that''s okay," he quietly chuckled, "and thanks, again, for letting me crash. After I''m out I might actually¡ª"

    He caught her eye for a moment. Her gaze this time was soft, almost tender, behind her dark and broody eyes.

    "...Are you hungry, by chance?" he asked instead.

    She looked down. "Oh, um..."

    "I mean, I was probably gonna go out for some breakfast, I could, I don''t know, I could grab you something, if¡ª you know, if you wanted."

    She thought for a moment.

    "You''ll... bring something back here?" she asked dubiously.

    "Yeah, I don''t mind," he said, "I remember spotting a Micky D''s just down the road. You like hash browns?"

    ¡°McDonald¡¯s¡­?¡± she confirmed, ¡°you want to buy me fast food¡­?¡±

    ¡°I¡ª I don¡¯t know,¡± he laughed uneasily, ¡°I could try finding another breakfast takeout spot, there just usually aren¡¯t any open this early is all¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯s okay,¡± she smirked, ¡°you can bring me some McDonald¡¯s, Jeremy¡­¡± She annunciated the word in a deliberate way, as if to tease him.

    "Okay," he smiled and shook his head, "Well, I''ll be out in a sec, I guess.¡± he turned and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

    <hr>

    It was only the beginning of spring, but Jeremy was ready for it to be summer, he thought to himself as he stepped out into the nippy, early morning air. He rubbed his hands together as he began down the street, whistling to himself.

    He was surprised by his own good mood, given the cold, and that he rarely enjoyed being in the city. In fact, what was he currently doing? He''d again effectively relegated himself to running errands for a client.

    But no, while her parents were clients, Wednesday herself wasn''t, he thought to himself. And after the initial prickliness of the previous night, he''d actually rather enjoyed her company. And he was out fetching breakfast for her because he''d offered it.

    He hurriedly crossed the street.

    It was pretty nice of her to have given him a bed for the night, too, he continued his thought. He figured it was the least he could do in return, to get her some food.

    He arrived, and ordered the full breakfast meal. It warmed his hands as he ventured back the way he came.

    Jeremy thought back to the previous night again. He thought about the odd, but palpable tension between the two of them when they¡¯d spoken, which had continued through to their conversation this morning. He wondered whether other people would have a similar experience when interacting with her, or if it was something which existed exclusively between the two of them.

    Indeed, he found it somewhat difficult to get a read on her ¡ª had she been enjoying their conversation also? Was it possible that she, in fact, simply found him insufferable?

    As he drew closer to the house, he realized his heart rate had been steadily increasing.

    ''Geez, you''re working yourself up over nothing,'' he attempted to reassure himself. Even worse, he¡¯d begun to fear that he¡¯d succumbed to some form of long-term manipulation on the part of her parents, as it did almost seem as though he was already right where they wanted him ¡ª at her house, fretting and overthinking their interactions, even staying the night¡­

    He let himself back in and headed to the dining room, where Wednesday was already sitting and cradling a glass of red wine.

    ¡°You made it back,¡± she teased.

    ¡°You mean despite all of the excitement out there at this time of day,¡± he retorted.

    She gave a small smile. ¡°Well, speaking of, don''t let me pressure you into joining me,¡± she mentioned of her drink, ¡°we are on two different time zones in a way, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± he chuckled, setting the food down. "What is it?"Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    "Oh, it''s been in the family cellar for generations I''m sure, I don''t read the labels, I just drink it," she quipped.

    He nodded, amused. "Taste alright at least?"

    She leaned forward. "Oh, it''s magnificent," she said passionately, "you''re welcome to try." She playfully offered it to him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, you told me not to let you," he half-smiled.

    She cracked a smile, and watched him distribute the take-out. The fact that she was drinking put Jeremy back in his head a little ¡ª he was unsure whether her pleasant demeanor was occurring organically, or could be attributed to the half a glass she¡¯d appeared to have had so far. He supposed that it would be difficult for him to judge, seeing as how he rarely ever drank alcohol.

    "I''ve never eaten this type of food before," Wednesday said as she waited.

    He slid her a hash brown and a McMuffin. ¡°Well, I¡¯d be careful with it, to be honest ¡ª I¡¯m pretty sure they lace it with weird, hidden ingredients that keep you coming back for more,¡± he explained, ¡°that must be how they do it, ¡®cause god, it tastes too good.¡±

    She raised an eyebrow. "How conniving."

    They dug in. Wednesday took slow, deliberate bites, seemingly due to Jeremy¡¯s warning. It struck him as rather endearing.

    ¡°They let me order your McMuffin without the bacon by the way, they were nice," said Jeremy.

    "Oh..." She examined it, a little startled. "...How did you know I''m vegetarian?"

    "Lurch mentioned it," he replied.

    The kindness almost appeared to make her uncomfortable. They ate in silence for a few moments.

    "You know," he began, "I''ve gotta ask: Wednesday¡ª I''ve never, like, in my life heard of that as a name, do you have any idea how your parents came up with it?¡±

    Her eyes danced around a little, as she seemingly deliberated on whether to entertain his question.

    ¡°Um¡­ Well," she finally replied, "I hadn''t exactly thought to ask, but I''m fairly sure it''s just because of the nursery rhyme."

    He looked at her, unfamiliar.

    "You know," she continued begrudgingly, "Monday''s child is fair of face, Tuesday''s child is full of grace... Wednesday''s child is full of woe, Thursday''s child has far to go," she waved her hand, "and so on..."

    ¡°Right¡­¡± he said. He clearly hadn''t heard it. "So that¡¯s you, huh? Full of woe?¡±

    She rolled her eyes. "More like indifference."

    He smiled.

    ¡°At least I¡¯m not stuck with yet another painfully commonplace biblical name,¡± she added.

    ¡±Biblical?" he puzzled.

    "Yeah," she replied, "Jeremy comes from Jeremiah... you know, one of those characters in the Christian bible they call prophets, or some such nonsense¡­¡±

    "Oh, I see," he said. ¡°¡­Nonsense, huh?¡±

    She paused and seemed to shoot him the type of look that a predator might, before capturing and devouring its prey.

    ¡°I¡¯m just kidding,¡± he teased, ¡°my family¡¯s pretty secular.¡±

    She shook her head, smirking a little. ¡°Whatever, Jeremiah.¡±

    ¡°For the record,¡± he chuckled, ¡°I wasn¡¯t making fun of your name, or anything¡­ you know, I think it¡¯s neat.¡±

    She playfully grimaced at his compliment.

    Jeremy suddenly felt his cell phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out to check it.

    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ll just be a sec,¡± he said to Wednesday as he stood and removed himself from the room. She had seemed puzzled by what exactly was going on.

    ¡°Mom, hey¡ª yeah, I¡¯m still alive,¡± he spoke into the receiver, ¡°no, I just stayed out with a friend¡­ Okay, yeah, sure¡­ Like, a couple of hours, maybe¡­ Sure, love you too.¡± He pushed the red button to end the call.

    ¡°That was cute,¡± Wednesday remarked as he rejoined the table, perhaps somewhat facetiously.

    ¡°I¡ª yeah, I don¡¯t know, I suppose I could¡¯ve flicked through an SMS last night to them, maybe,¡± he replied, a little flustered.

    He noticed she had her puzzled look back.

    ¡°Oh, yeah, I forgot you don¡¯t have one of these,¡± he said, holding his Nokia.

    ¡°A little noise-making machine, you mean?¡± she raised an eyebrow condescendingly.

    ¡°Hey, I mean, they¡¯ve managed to make them so small and inexpensive recently, like, virtually everybody in the world is gonna have one pretty soon,¡± he explained, ¡°I don¡¯t know, I think it¡¯s pretty cool.¡±

    She smiled at him. ¡°You sound as though you sell the things,¡± she remarked playfully.

    ¡°Hey, I¡ª I don¡¯t know, whatever,¡± he chuckled.

    They returned to their breakfast for a bit.

    ¡°Do you¡­¡± she broke the silence, ¡°I don¡¯t know, get up to much when you aren''t bean counting for my parents?"

    He swallowed the last bite of his meal. "Well," he began timidly, "yeah, uh¡ª I mean, all of my buddies from school, we all pretty much still live on the same street, like, no one ever really moved away, so¡­ Yeah, we hang out a bunch, you know, weekends... we''re all total nerds ¡ª we all bought the Xbox when it came out, so we, like, bring them over to each other¡¯s places, set up Halo LAN parties¡ª"

    He noticed her tilting her head in slight confusion at the terms he was using.

    He paused, ¡°Oh, as in like, video-games,¡± he attempted to explain.

    ¡°Oh,¡± she replied, slightly raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ like, you get to control an avatar of yourself in an imaginary world,¡± he continued, ¡°with like, crazy, sci-fi guns, and you can blow stuff up, and¡ª¡°

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen¡­ arcade machines, and things like that¡­¡± she replied.

    He nodded, satisfied enough.

    She stared into space for a moment. "Do you... wanna see some real weapons?" she asked tentatively.

    He paused. "You... what, you¡¯ve got guns here?¡±

    "No..." she replied reticently. "Do you... wanna see, though?"

    He wasn''t sure where this was going, but he agreed. "Sure..."

    ¡°Very well,¡± she said as she left the table, with a pep in her step. "Come."

    He mused over how mysterious she often acted, while she led him to a door leading behind the staircase.

    She brought him inside to reveal a small workshop, with various workbenches and woodworking tools scattered about. Wednesday picked up the latest creation ¡ª a medieval-style crossbow, and pointed it at him. It wasn''t loaded, but he recoiled slightly anyway.

    ¡°Hey!¡­¡± he exclaimed.

    She silently giggled, placing it back down.

    The far wall of the room was lined with similar spring-loaded, pain inflicting contraptions.

    "You make these?" he asked in disbelief.

    "Yeah," she replied, "half of them I made before I turned 12."

    He simply stared.

    "What do you think?" she asked.

    "I think..." he began, "that I wouldn''t wanna be locked in here alone with you if you were ever mad at me,¡± he joked.

    She slightly blushed, and looked away.

    He observed the rest of the room, and noticed against the near wall what looked to be a set of wooden torture racks. He raised an eyebrow, glancing back at her.

    She noticed, and rolled her eyes. "I don''t use them for anything weird, idiot," she chided.

    "No, I¡ª I wasn''t," he babbled, "you know, I respect the theme."

    She looked at him, smiling a little.

    "...You wanna shoot something?" she asked ghoulishly.

    He pressed his tongue against his teeth. "Uh... okay?"

    <hr>

    Out in the courtyard, Wednesday had a few hay bales stacked up against the exterior wall, looking a little mangled from past target practice, no doubt.

    She handed Jeremy a bolt. ¡°Want me to show you how to load it?" she asked.

    ¡°Uh, please." He passed it back to her.

    The end of the crossbow had a foot-hole sized loop attached to it. She lowered it and hooked it over her shoe, then craned over and pulled the string back over a metal catch, with a definitive click. She then inserted the bolt into the mechanism, and without hesitation, raised and nailed the center of the tallest hay bale.

    "Just hold it firmly and don''t get your fingers caught," she explained, handing it over to him.

    As he replicated her technique, he realized she must have been a lot stronger than she looked, as it took a concerted effort to pull the bow tight. He raised it up to rest the stock against his shoulder, and laid the bolt onto the shaft, taking a breath. As he aimed at his target, he figured there was going to be a lot more guesswork involved in hitting the shot than in Halo.

    He squeezed the trigger, and felt the snap of the bow vibrate through him. It actually was rather exhilarating, he thought.

    "Well done," Wednesday complimented.

    He checked and saw his bolt had struck only a few inches from hers.

    "Wow," he caught his breath, "that felt great."

    She smiled coyly, and handed him another bolt.

    They took turns for a few more rounds of shooting.

    "Okay," she beamed, "we should stop before the neighbors become nosy."

    They collected the bolts they''d fired, and she opened a wooden case and began packing them back into it. As he helped her, Wednesday noticed a long scar running down his palm.

    Curious, she slowly reached out and took his hand, examining it. "That must''ve hurt," she said, "how''d you get it?"

    "Oh, when I was a kid we liked to explore this one creepy abandoned house the next neighborhood over," he reminisced, "I¡ª there was a broken window. Had to get a piece of glass taken out in hospital, and yeah, stitches.¡±

    "That''s fun," she smiled, tracing her finger over his scar.

    ¡°I guess,¡± he grimaced, amused.

    She held his hand in hers a little longer than he imagined was necessary to simply admire a scar. They shared a brief moment of awkward eye contact before she suddenly let go and took a step away from him. His heart raced a little.

    "It''s okay," he shrugged, playfully, "I know my hands are warm."

    She slightly narrowed her eyes at him, while she twirled a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face with her finger.

    ¡°Well¡­ We should go back inside, then¡­¡± she murmured.

    He nodded in return. ¡°You want me to¡ª?¡± he gestured to the crossbow.

    ¡°Um, sure, just don¡¯t damage it,¡± she replied. ¡°Thank you,¡± she quickly added.

    She held on him for a moment, then spun and went back into the house.

    Jeremy paused to contemplate the interaction they¡¯d just had, then shrugged it off and followed suit.

    He lugged the thing back to her workshop, and hung it on an empty slot on the wall. He turned to find her leaning against the doorframe.

    She opened her mouth to speak, but didn''t, as though she were struggling to find the words. It struck Jeremy as somewhat uncharacteristic of her, even after only the short amount of time of time he''d known her.

    She glanced at him, her eyes as piercing as ever, almost as though she were hoping he''d say something, instead.

    He missed his opportunity.

    "I''m... probably gonna turn in soon..." she began.

    "Oh, sure," he replied, "yeah, I¡ª I''ll get out of your hair, for real this time.¡±

    "Okay..." she said, traipsing over to him, "but... you should... you know, you should come back sometime." She looked into his eyes. "We can shoot stuff again, or..."

    "Yeah, I can do that," he smiled. "Do you... want me to send a message by pigeon or something, to let you know when I''ll be by?" he joked.

    She smiled and rolled her eyes. "No, that''s fine... I''ll just expect you."

    She looked down for a moment. Then, to his surprise, she reluctantly hugged him.

    Her embrace was cold, as though she''d never done it before. He held her more tightly, feeling her drop her shoulders a little, and sink into his chest.

    After a moment, she broke it off. "Okay, now get the hell out, let me sleep," she said lazily.

    He smiled and walked by her, to the front door.

    Lurch startled him by emerging from the corridor, a feather duster in hand.

    "Oh, hey, morning big guy!" said Jeremy, as nonchalantly as he could.

    Lurch sounded in puzzlement over Jeremy still being here. He turned to Wednesday. Her glare seemed to satisfy his curiosity, and he moved on.

    Jeremy hadn¡¯t expected to have felt self-conscious in front of Lurch, but the last day and a half had turned out to be a somewhat unusual series of events.

    Opening the door, he turned to Wednesday one last time.

    "Well, I''ll see ya," he said warmly.

    Her typical wry, half-smirk came across as rather adorable this time.

    "Goodbye, Jeremiah,¡± she returned.

    He grinned and closed the door behind him, setting off down toward his car.

    He hopped in, rubbing his shoulders for warmth.

    As he went to turn the key, he realized he''d forgotten his bag. He hesitated for a moment, but then started the ignition anyway.

    Perhaps it''d make for an excuse to return sooner rather than later, he thought.

 Chapter 4: Finding Warmthâ€¦

    The sun set over the city skyline on a Thursday evening, as a gust of fresh, spring air wafted its way through the settling midtown streets. It would at least be getting warmer soon, Jeremy thought as he exited his car and stretched his legs. He stood motionlessly for a moment, allowing the breeze to grace his face, and observed it rustle through the leaves of a nearby green ash.

    He thought he smelled something far more interesting than the simple spring air, however. He turned toward the gloomy building he was there to visit, assuming it to be the origin of the scent. It would have been almost a week since he¡¯d been to the place, when he¡¯d met the peculiar and reclusive daughter of Gomez and Morticia Addams, the equally peculiar people for whom he worked.

    Upon some deliberation during the days since he¡¯d first visited, Jeremy felt that Gomez and Morticia must have somehow known exactly what would have transpired between Jeremy and Wednesday when they¡¯d initially sent him down here. They¡¯d surely foreseen a strange, prickly tension between the two of them quickly changing into an exchange of shared experiences and an interest in one another¡¯s perspectives ¡ª that they¡¯d hit it off, so to speak. It was all true, and Jeremy couldn¡¯t deny it.

    In truth, his ambivalence about the entire situation was the only thing keeping him from returning sooner, as per Wednesday¡¯s invitation ¡ª the whole set-up angle which had precipitated everything still rubbed him the wrong way, a little.

    At the same time, she had the same information that he did, and the whole thing didn¡¯t appear to bother her. Or perhaps it did ¡ª he supposed he¡¯d find out shortly. Either way, he did find himself looking forward to seeing her again ¡ª he¡¯d truly never spoken with anybody quite like her, and she had begun to intrigue him a lot, over their time apart.

    It became necessary for him to quell the hint of rising nervousness within him by reminding himself that this wasn¡¯t actually a date, or anything.

    Nevertheless, he checked his breath against his hand.

    Climbing up the entry stairs, he puzzled at the front door, which had seemingly been left ajar. He gave a courteous knock while he gently pushed it all the way open and stepped inside.

    "Hello?" he offered, shutting the door behind him.

    Wednesday poked her head out from the kitchen, where she was behind the stove working on something.

    "Hey,¡± she called out with a frivolous nonchalance, as though they''d only just seen each other.

    "Uh, hey!" he began to reply, "did¡ª did you leave your door open by chance?" he asked, wandering into the kitchen with her.

    "No," she smirked, "I saw you arrive," she gestured to a small, porthole-style window by the range-hood, overlooking the street. It must have been shuttered the last time he was here.

    "Oh," he blushed, wondering whether she''d been observing him the entire time he was outside.

    Wednesday seemed to notice his embarrassment, and silently giggled.

    "I''m making natural candles," she said, breaking the tension.

    "Oh," he observed, "yeah, I was gonna ask ¡ª I caught the fragrance from out on the street."

    Wednesday wore a pair of thick, rubber cleaning gloves, and she was stirring a steaming mixture inside of a quaint, miniature cauldron set up over a bunsen burner.

    She deftly shook the liquid wax off of the stirring rod and held it under Jeremy''s nose.

    "What do you smell?" she queried.

    He took it in. "Um... I mean, it smells, like, woody, I suppose?"

    "That''s in the ballpark," she smiled. "It''s rose, oud, and vetiver," she explained.

    Jeremy took a peek. The wax sloshed around inside the cauldron ¡ª a dark crimson. He glanced around at some of the other materials she had laid out on the stone counter. Next to her was a small glass jar containing a cluster of dried-out rose petals. She also had a mortar and pestle, along with some dried rye grass bundled together with some twine. It was all very witchy, he thought.

    "I bet you could run, like, one of those hipster apothecary places out of here if you wanted," he commented.

    She raised an eyebrow at him, and began gathering up her candle jars, ready to be poured into.

    "So¡­¡± he said, suddenly feeling awkward, ¡°have you been¡ª"

    "You left your bag here you know," she interrupted, with a small smile.

    "I¡ª yeah, I guess I did," he chuckled, "I''d meant to come by earlier this week, but¡ª"

    "That''s okay, that just gave me more time to go through all of your stuff," she teased.

    "Oh¡ª yeah?" he laughed uneasily.

    "Yep, I know your middle name is Quincy," she fibbed.

    He chuckled. "I don''t have a middle name, actually."

    She gave him a smirk again as she attached the wicks to her candle jars.

    "So, do you have any embarrassing secrets?" she wondered.

    "Um," he laughed, thinking for a moment, "I''ll be honest, I actually have no clue what two of the three ingredients you said for your candles are."

    "Oh," she remarked in amusement, "well, I only have them here in oil form, but, as best as I can explain, vetiver is basically an extract from a kind of grass, and oud is a tree resin that''s gone through some natural process that turns it really aromatic."

    "Got it, got it..." he replied. "And, you know, I''m good with, like, numbers and stuff..." he jested.

    "You''re good at looking like a dork," she teased back, switching off the burner.

    ¡°Really¡­?¡± he feigned offense, looking down at his outfit. He had on a plaid shirt and jeans. He supposed he didn''t look too far off someone who''d been playing Xbox at home just a few hours ago.

    He watched her pour the candle wax.

    "Lurch here?" Jeremy asked, glancing around.

    "No, he''s out," she replied, finishing up. "I told him he could take a personal day... or two... what day is it again?"

    "It''s Thursday," he chuckled.

    "Right," she replied. "He''ll probably be back sometime tomorrow, then."

    "Cool," Jeremy said, wandering around a little. "House to yourself then, huh?"

    He turned back to her.

    She gave a little shrug. "House to ourselves, if you''re staying."

    He couldn''t help but notice she looked rather enchanting, standing there with the waning light of dusk peeking in through the window behind her.

    "I¡ª yeah," he bumbled, "what, uh, what did you feel like doing?"

    She smirked and rolled her eyes, pacing over toward the pantry. She pulled a dark bottle from the shelf.

    "Sherry?" she asked.

    ¡°Uh, sure," he chuckled.

    <hr>

    They sat on a bench out in the courtyard, looking up at the stars as they faintly glowed through the residual daylight. Jeremy swirled the wine around in his glass.

    "I passed a hobby store on the way here with a bunch of like, big telescopes and stuff in the front window," he remarked.

    She hummed along, inviting him to continue.

    "Always thought it could be a cool thing to get into, you know, stargazing," he said.

    Wednesday nodded along distantly. "...I think it''s interesting the way ancient people used to use the stars to navigate," she contributed.

    "Yeah... you know, I heard dung beetles do that too; chart their course based on the night sky," he replied.

    She glanced at him with a smirk. "Dung beetles?..." she teased.

    "I was checking out the nature channel, I don''t know," he chuckled.

    She sniggered and took a swig of her wine. They sat quietly for a few moments.

    He spotted a small, stone gargoyle on the corner of a short row of crenellations protruding from the rear of the roof.

    ¡°Has the whole, I don¡¯t know, gothic sort of vibe just always been kind of a family thing?¡± he wondered to her.

    She didn¡¯t appear to entirely understand his meaning. ¡°You mean, like, the architecture?¡± she asked, gesturing to the house.

    ¡°Uh,¡± he replied, ¡°well, yes, but, I mean, you guys also all sort of, dress in black, and seem to have this, like, fascination with all things uncanny, or, macabre, I suppose¡ª¡± He looked to her for reassurance that he wasn¡¯t somehow entirely off-base in what he was saying.

    She looked on, and seemed to crinkle her eyebrows.

    ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t know,¡± she began, ¡°the things you describe have always just seemed ordinary to me, so, I suppose the answer is ¡®yes¡¯¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure, like, that¡¯s all I meant by it,¡± he quickly added, ¡°like, I think it¡¯s pretty cool, the skulls and candles laying around, the, uh, workshop of death contraptions, like, it¡¯s just unique to me, is all.¡±

    She offered a small smile as she glanced back at him, but also didn¡¯t appear to be buying what he was saying to her.

    ¡°Death is entirely what makes life feel thrilling, don¡¯t you think?¡± she posited.

    ¡°I, uh,¡± he chuckled, ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve never really thought about it like that, but I guess I see where you¡¯re coming from.¡±

    ¡°Hm,¡± she mused, supposedly satisfied. ¡°So you¡¯re not saying my clothes are too plain for you, or something¡­?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡ª¡° he began, ¡°wait¡ª what do you mean, ¡®for me¡¯?¡±

    She crinkled her eyebrows at him again. ¡°What? I didn¡¯t¡ª¡° she suddenly looked away, and blushed a little. ¡°Stop it, you¡¯re being strange¡­¡± she murmured.

    He felt a little bad, but enjoyed their mildly flirtatious exchanges.

    ¡°Your clothes are definitely, like, on the stylish side of vintage, for sure, though,¡± he tried complimenting.

    ¡°Vintage¡­ as in, old¡­¡± she raised an eyebrow in jest.

    ¡°Yeah, but old stuff is totally, like, in, depending on who you talk to, you know?¡± he continued, with a smile.

    She playfully rolled her eyes, seemingly having no clue what he was talking about.

    They returned to silence again. Part of her demeanor appeared to have changed, however. He might have guessed anxiety or self-consciousness, perhaps, which would have made him feel bad if it were true, but he couldn¡¯t be sure.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    "I don''t plan on spending the rest of my twenties here, you know," Wednesday suddenly said.

    He turned to her, perplexed, as her comment had seemingly come out of nowhere. "Living here, in the city, you mean?"

    She glanced at him. "Or in America..."

    ¡°Oh¡­ Where would you wanna go?" he asked.

    She thought for a moment. "I think I''d wanna live in Prague."

    "Yeah?" he smiled. "Have you been?"

    "Once," she replied, "when I was little. Father took Pugsley and me one winter to meet some relatives. They own Houska castle," she explained.

    Jeremy nodded along. "How long''d you spend there, when you¡ª?¡±

    "Almost a month, I think," she said. "Mostly nights. The city was so... enchantingly eerie... as though it had a deep, dark soul that could swallow you up if you''d let it..."

    As she spoke she tucked her feet underneath her thighs, bundling up onto the seat. Their shoulders lightly touched. Part of him felt as though she might not have had anybody else to share such a thought with. It was nice, that she felt comfortable around him, he thought.

    ¡°Besides that one road trip we took, my buddies aren''t super adventurous," Jeremy offered, "I could see most of them starting their own families in the same house they grew up in," he chuckled.

    She looked at him. "I see," she said. Her eyes glimmered. "What about you ¡ª have you been out to see the world?"

    "I, um," he smiled, "I haven''t been over the pond or anything, but I was in Argentina, like, a year and a half ago. Nice people there."

    She showed some curiosity.

    "Old girlfriend," he added, "some of her family lived there."

    She nodded slowly. "Well, Buenos Aires looks like it has some remarkable architecture, from the photos, at least.¡±

    "Mm, yeah, it was... uh, yeah, it was nice,¡± he replied, in thought.

    Wednesday took a sip of wine while they sat in momentary silence.

    "When... did you break up?" she asked slowly.

    He glanced at her. "Uh, it... must have been just over a year now, I think..." He let out a bashful chuckle. "Oh, I didn''t mean to¡ª I was just remembering some stuff, is all."

    She gazed at him reassuringly.

    He looked on at the house. "You know, I''d feel super alone, I think," he said, "if I lived here by myself."

    "Well," she replied, "I''m not all alone. Lurch can be good company."

    "Yeah¡­¡± he nodded.

    She looked at her hands. ¡°¡­It''s not that I don''t want any¡­¡± she paused, ¡°¡­companions¡­¡± she almost seemed to exchange the word at the last moment so that she wouldn¡¯t need to utter the word ¡®friend¡¯.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I just..." she looked at him, ¡°suffice to say, I don''t always get along with everybody I meet... Most people I find to be close-minded and generally quite insufferable. I actually find it rather difficult to even take anybody seriously, sometimes¡­¡±

    He gave a small smile. "Well¡­ You know, for what it¡¯s worth, I think you''re probably one of the most interesting people I''ve ever met,¡± he said genuinely, ¡°you come across as, like, intelligent, and mysterious, and¡­ I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s been cool getting to know you.¡±

    She looked back down in an attempt to hide any reaction, but after a moment she rested her head on his shoulder.

    ¡°Real cheesy, Jeremy¡­¡± she added quietly, to which he smiled.

    He realized that he felt truly at ease with her; all of his neuroticisms, his anxieties, his awkwardness, all felt like distant thoughts in this moment. He also realized it was far too late to convince himself that he hadn''t developed a legitimate crush on her. He supposed that this might have been her way of letting him know she felt the same way. Though, he sometimes misread things, so perhaps he¡¯d have to wait a little longer for a definitive answer.

    Wednesday glanced up at him, curious of his thoughts, but posed no question of him.

    "How do you like the wine?" she asked instead, after some silence.

    "I, uh," he chuckled, "it''s very sweet."

    She let out a short giggle. "I can finish yours if you want," she said, extending a hand.

    "No, no, that''s alright," he laughed, downing the last few sips and grimacing as it went down. "I''m not here to enable anybody''s alcoholism."

    She sat up with a smirk. "The implication being...?"

    "Being, that... I''m yet to see you drunk and have no indication that you ever drink to excess?" he teased.

    "Hah-hah," she replied, rolling her eyes.

    The air had turned cold.

    "We should probably go back inside," she said, holding herself.

    "Yeah, sure thing," he agreed.

    She took his glass from him and led him back to the kitchen. She placed them both by the sink, then turned and stood close to him for a moment, arms still wrapped around herself.

    "I''ve never had the hang of getting that fireplace going..." she said, gesturing toward the dining room.

    "Right," he replied, ¡°well, I mean, you live here ¡ª what''s the warmest spot in the house if the fire¡¯s not lit?¡±

    ¡°Well, my bed, basically,¡± she said nonchalantly.

    He looked at her and she blushed. ¡°Stop¡­¡± she murmured.

    He smiled and decided not to embarrass her further. "What about your, uh, your reading room, the loveseat in there? You have blankets?"

    "Yeah, a hundred,¡± she said, as they began up the stairs.

    Up until this point, Jeremy hadn¡¯t felt that he¡¯d had too much trouble keeping his eye from wandering, but as Wednesday climbed ahead of him, he found that it took a concerted effort to divert his focus to anywhere but her butt. The moment she entered the next room and was out of his sight, he give himself a couple of taps on the face and shook it off.

    Inside, he found her rummaging through a compartment inside the corner table. He plonked himself down on the seat, and Wednesday threw a couple of blankets at him.

    "Thanks," he said.

    She hastily put a couple of books away that had been laying about, while he unfurled the blankets and lay them over himself. She then slunk over and crawled in underneath them, snuggling up next to him.

    "Oh, hey," he chuckled.

    "What? You''re warm," she retorted.

    ''I mean, I''m not complaining,'' he thought to himself.

    He got himself comfortable and placed an arm around her, while she slipped her shoes off onto the floor. He decided to do the same.

    "I think what I''d normally do on a night like this is to take a long, hot bath," she remarked.

    ¡°And¡­ Like, hypothetically, would you wait for me to leave the room this time?" he teased.

    She rolled her eyes and pressed down on his chest as payback. "You''re really gonna act like that didn''t make your day, mister ¡®I spend my days playing video-games¡¯?¡± she retorted.

    He winced in slight physical pain as he wrenched her hand off of him. "I mean, it''s just not the first thing I usually get to, uh, I don¡¯t know, experience, when I first meet somebody," he joked.

    They continued wrestling with each other''s hands for a moment ¡ª it felt somewhat surreal to see Wednesday''s guard let down this much, even after only the short time Jeremy had known her.

    She took both his hands suddenly, as if purposefully interrupting his train of thought. They interlocked fingers.

    "You... don''t have anybody waiting on you, do you?" she wondered coolly.

    "Uh,¡± he smiled, "no, I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    "Okay," she said with a softer tone. She seemed to hesitate. ¡°Um¡­¡± she murmured, lowering her eyes away from him.

    He sat up slightly, so that he was a little closer to her. ¡°Everything alright?¡± he asked gently.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m okay,¡± she replied quickly, a hint of anxiety in her voice. ¡°You know,¡± she added, only briefly making eye contact with him, ¡°Um, I¡­ keep a little stash of pot in my room, did you wanna, maybe¡­?¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah¡­?¡± he said, still speaking softly, ¡°would it make it easier¡­?¡±

    She slightly let go of his hands. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± she responded with nervous eyes.

    ¡°I mean, we don¡¯t have to like, do anything, if you don¡¯t want, by the way, like¡­¡± he quickly added.

    She softly nibbled her bottom lip. She seemed to make a decision ¡ª leading his hands to be placed around her hips, and letting go of his fingers to rest them against his chest.

    He responded in kind by gently lifting her toward him. She clutched at his shirt as they drew nearer to one another. As she leaned in, he felt her cool breath on his skin. He observed her chest heave gracefully with each inhale and exhale.

    "It''s just that¡­ it¡¯s kind of been a while since I''ve..." she trailed off.

    ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± he tenderly reassured, ¡°it¡¯s¡­ I mean, it¡¯s been a little while for me, too.¡±

    She gave a small smile. ¡°This does feel a little¡­¡± she thought for a moment, ¡°spur of the moment¡­ It feels like I¡¯ve only known you for five minutes.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess so,¡± he smiled back, ¡°I don''t know¡­ sometimes it feels good to just sort of¡­ go with it."

    She looked piercingly into his eyes, in a way which began to make him wonder whether he¡¯d done enough to warrant her trust.

    "...Okay," she finally whispered back.

    They began to breathe in sync, as they shared their body heat. She drifted in toward him, and he closed his eyes, letting her softly press her lips against his.

    Jeremy''s thoughts melted away as they kissed ¡ª he felt only her lips, and the warmth of her body.

    He lifted her onto his lap, sliding his hands over her back. She kissed him more fervently in response, beginning to tug his shirt buttons open.

    She pulled away for a moment.

    "This loveseat is a little small," she remarked, a glimmer in her eye.

    "Right," he replied, returning a tender smile. ¡°Well, we can¡­ go somewhere else¡­¡±

    ¡°¡­Sure,¡± she bashfully gave an eye-roll.

    He tentatively began to place his arms underneath her in order to lift her. She acquiesced, folding her arms over his shoulders to brace herself. He smirked, and picked her up, as she wrapped herself around him. She tenderly pecked him on the cheek as they began to move toward the door.

    She continued planting soft kisses down his neck and collar as he brought her out onto the landing, and then into her bedroom.

    ¡°Wow,¡± Jeremy remarked, as he observed the way she¡¯d decorated her room ¡ª it was far more occupied with furniture than any other room in the house, with various uncanny knick-knacks and trinkets occupying each and every available surface. Some of her medieval contraption weapons had made it in here and lined the walls as well, even a large musical instrument inside its case ¡ª he supposed a cello, based on the size. Two chandeliers adorned the dark, ornate ceilings, and her bed was even the tall, four poster variety with dark curtains draped across each plane. He figured this must have been where she¡¯d spent most of her time for a reason.

    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®wow¡¯?¡± Wednesday earnestly demanded.

    ¡°No, like, an admiring ¡®wow¡¯,¡± he explained goofily, ¡°like, ¡®wow, this is your bedroom¡¯, you know?¡±

    She clenched her teeth, as though she wanted to bite him. He supposed he might not have minded if she did.

    ¡°I¡¯d appreciate if you¡¯d place me down now, sir,¡± she spoke playfully. ¡°Be careful not to tear the curtains off the bed-frame, please,¡± she added.

    ¡°Oh, for sure,¡± he replied, sliding them aside and slowly lowering her down to sit on the rear side of the mattress. Her bedsheets felt like they were velvet, or something.

    He quickly strode over and closed the door behind them.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to do that, you know,¡± she mocked, ¡°nobody¡¯s here.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± he pondered. ¡°What about the ghosts¡­?¡± he joked.

    She rolled her eyes, holding back a smile. ¡°Come here, you idiot.¡±

    She seemed to excitedly scoot back on the bed while he hopped on too. He lay on his side, facing her, and traced a finger over her thigh. She reached out and gently cradled his face, leaning in to kiss him.

    She intentionally missed his lips, instead positioning her mouth by his left ear. ¡°You know, there are spirits in this house,¡± she whispered in a playful tone, ¡°they¡¯re in the room with us.¡±

    ¡°Stop it,¡± he chuckled, softly pushing off on her. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell me that would make it more hot for you¡­¡± he added, inducing another eye-roll.

    She brushed his cheek with her thumb. ¡°It¡¯s still cold, we should get under the covers¡­¡±

    He nodded, and they both tucked themselves in, next to one another, sharing in a heated embrace.

    They merely stared at each other for a while as they warmed themselves up, their faces so close that their noses almost touched. She leaned in and planted a brief kiss on his lips. He smiled back at her.

    ¡°You know,¡± he began in a hushed tone, ¡°I¡¯d never have expected you to be so¡­¡± He wasn¡¯t sure of the right word.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± she replied quickly, seeming to understand what he was getting at, ¡°I¡¯m not¡­¡±

    He¡¯d begun to find it increasingly adorable whenever she¡¯d downplay her own feelings.

    ¡°My plan is to leave you broken-hearted and miserable at the end of this,¡± she added, to reinforce her point.

    He reached out and lightly caressed her cheek. She affectionately took his hand in hers as he did it.

    ¡°¡­You¡¯re really rather beautiful, you know that?¡± he softly mused, with a small smile.

    Her eyes darted away from his while she attempted not to blush. ¡°Don¡¯t say things like that¡­ You sound like a character from a trashy romance novel¡­¡±

    He quietly chuckled. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know what to say, it¡¯s true.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care¡­¡± she murmured. Her eyes returned to find his, and she simply stared into him.

    ¡°You know,¡± he began, ¡°we probably shouldn¡¯t sleep in our clothes¡­¡±

    She looked away, smirking a little. ¡°Is that all you want to do?¡± she wondered sarcastically, ¡°just sleep¡­?¡±

    He considered answering her, but he¡¯d noticed her begin to remove something under the covers ¡ª presumably her stockings. He reciprocated and began to take off his outer layers, too.

    He lay under the covers in his underpants while she shifted and sat up, rolling her dress up around her waist. He couldn¡¯t help himself but to enjoy the reveal of black lace panties, as she wriggled her dress up and over her head, fetching her braids from being caught with her other hand. She looked back over at him, and appeared to be flattered by his wandering eye.

    ¡°Well, look what you were hiding under there,¡± she notioned toward his torso, while adjusting her bra.

    He became a little bashful, all of a sudden. ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know¡­ I use the workout machine we have at home, sometimes¡­¡±

    She playfully rolled her eyes at him once again, leaning in to rest her head on his chest. He pulled the covers up over them.

    ¡°Did you bring anything¡­ to¡­?¡± she asked after a moment.

    He nibbled his top lip. ¡°No¡­ Sorry, I probably should have thought about that before we¡ª¡°

    ¡°No, it¡¯s okay,¡± she cut in, ¡°I was just going to say that¡­ we don¡¯t need it¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± he replied. ¡°Wait¡­ what do you mean?¡±

    She glanced up at him briefly. ¡°I mean¡­ Like, it¡¯s okay, I won¡¯t get pregnant¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡­ Won¡¯t...?¡± he delicately enquired.

    ¡°Can¡¯t, I guess¡­¡± she murmured. ¡°It¡¯s a long story ¡ª we don¡¯t have to worry about going into that right now¡­¡±

    He was silent in contemplation for a moment.

    ¡°My mother and father don¡¯t know this, just, by the way¡­¡± she added quietly.

    He slid down off the pillow and lay down beside her so he could look at her.

    ¡°You¡­ Like, you¡¯re okay, though? Or¡­?¡± he asked gently.

    ¡°I¡¯m not, like, upset about it or anything, no,¡± she replied, observing his reaction, ¡°I just¡­ wasn¡¯t sure how to let you know, or whatever, that I¡¯m¡­ I don¡¯t know, some people would say ¡®barren¡¯¡­¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°No, I wouldn¡¯t say that,¡± he said affectionately, finding her hand under the covers and giving it a squeeze, to reassure her.

    ¡°But,¡± he continued gently, ¡°I don¡¯t understand ¡ª was this done to you, you¡¯re saying?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she replied, ¡°It was my decision, I just¡­ I don¡¯t know, I was younger, so it may been rash, perhaps¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± he pondered, ¡°¡­Like, you don¡¯t think you¡¯ll want to ever have kids, you mean?¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°No, probably not¡­ I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    He offered a smile, though he remained a little confused by the whole thing. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re weird for this, or anything,¡± he replied, ¡°like, I don¡¯t know, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever even seriously thought about any of this stuff, myself ¡ª always figured I¡¯m too young for it, you know?¡±

    His words seemed to put her at ease. She snuggled closer into his embrace, and he stroked her hair in response. He figured they probably didn¡¯t need to dwell on the topic anymore.

    ¡°Do you usually sleep with these still done up?¡± he wondered of her braids.

    ¡°No, not usually,¡± she replied plainly, and began to remove the hair ties holding them in place.

    She startled him by leaping on top of him, raising her head over his and letting her now free hair dangle onto his face.

    ¡°Okay¡ª that¡¯s, yeah¡ª that¡¯s fantastic,¡± he sputtered, attempting to bat it out of his mouth and eyes, to her amusement.

    She leant back, straddling his abdomen, and used one of the hair ties to wrangle it up into a temporary bun.

    She leant back over him again. A thought seemed to occur to her, and she narrowed her eyes slightly as she looked at him.

    ¡°Why are you so nice to me¡­?¡± she wondered.

    He puzzled over the question. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± she replied, ¡°I¡¯m not always nice to you¡­¡±

    He sat up a little, bringing himself closer to her. ¡°I think you¡¯re nice to me¡­¡±

    She seemed to cringe at the thought of it. ¡°Ugh, don¡¯t say that¡­ I am not.¡±

    He tilted his head and smirked at her. ¡°You kind of are¡­¡±

    She grew impatient and pushed him back down, but grinned as she did it. ¡°Fine, just stop talking¡­¡±

    She planted kisses along his chest, up his neck and then on his lips. He laid a hand on the small of her back and pulled her into him as he kissed her back, evoking some more passion from her as he did it.

    While they made out, his other hand crept up her back and found the clasp to her bra.

    She didn¡¯t stop him.

    All things said, Wednesday hadn''t been wrong about her bed being the warmest place to be that night.