Work Text:
Being Bad
by Pirate Turner
It isn't easy being bad, Morticia thought, herding her children into their antique home before her and letting the door slam shut to protect them from the outside world of its own accord. Gomez met her in the foyer, smoking two cigars instead of one. He flipped to his feet, removed his cigars, and exhaled. A lovely plume of smoke circled up toward their perfectly cobwebbed ceiling. "What is it this time?" he asked.
"We were just trying to play with the new boy," Wednesday spoke. The girl was the spitting image of her mother.
"Yeah," Pugsley added. "We didn't know he wouldn't like having his tongue pierced by the pencil sharpener!"
Wednesday smiled, remembering how much blood there had been when she had turned the knob on the sharpener with Rufus' tongue inside. "It was a sight," she declared eerily, "to be remembered."
"Yeah!" Pugsley laughed. "They never teach us anything like that about the anatomy!"
"I'm proud of you, kids." Gomez beamed at his children and took another puff on his cigars before continuing, "You're living up to the name of Addams. Making your own education is an excellent way to start."
"The only problem," Morticia pouted, "is that that dreadful school board refuses to allow their return for another month."
"Then it's a month we'll spend well!" Gomez exclaimed, holding his hands high and clapping. "Grandmama and Fester will take over their tutelage," he commanded as the rest of their family came to his clapping hands. "Nobody knows spells and electricity like those two!"
"Oh, darling," Morticia smiled, "you're absolutely right! No one can give them an education like we Addams can!"
"You know, Tish, perhaps it's time we talked again about the possibility of home schooling. I'm tired of this school board hindering our children's education."
Morticia's black eyes glowed. "I do so love when you take command, mon chere!"
"Tish," Gomez cried, throwing away both of his cigars, which Fester caught and promptly stuck in his ears to Pugsley's and Wednesday's amusement, "you spoke French!"
"Oui, oui, chi." Tish smiled, knowing the effect the romantic language had on her husband. He sprang across the foyer, grasped her hand, and started kissing his way up her arm. "I believe I would like to have the children home schooled, Gomez. This American society is not a culture in which it is fit for an Addams to partake, but promise me one thing, darling -- "
"Anything," Gomez breathed, kissing the inside of her slender elbow and continuing to work his way up her ghoulishly gorgeous body.
Tish had her hands buried in his dark hair. She raised his head and looked directly in his eyes. "That nothing else has to change, that we still have our . . . times together whenever we like."
"When has the children being home ever stopped that?! Making love is as natural as the moon shining down with her silver beams! It's nothing to hide!" Morticia cried in delight and threw her head back as he buried his mouth in her breasts.
"It ain't easy being bad," Pugsley spoke, remembering something Rufus had said before they'd turned on the pencil sharpener, "but it sure is fun."
"I should have known something was wrong with that boy then," Wednesday remarked, watching her parents' celebration until Gomez whisked Morticia into his arms and carried her away to their bedroom and their awaiting bed of nails. "It's not hard being bad." She grinned, and any normal human, that is, any one not born within the Addams clan, would have sworn they could see the Devil himself in the girl's eyes. "It comes quite naturally to us Addams."
The End