A Crossbow Aimed At the Heart

Jeremy's eyes fluttered awake to birds chirping outside. He glanced around for a moment, remembering that he hadn't travelled home the previous night; that he wasn't in his own bed. He turned to the spot next to him, expecting to find Wednesday laying asleep, but it was empty.

'Sure, she's a night owl,' he reminded himself.

He sat up and yawned as he stretched his arms over his head.

Next to his side of the bed, a long, black night robe hung from the dresser. He noticed a label attached to it, which read "Jeremy" in ink calligraphy.

He hopped up and examined it for a moment, smirking to himself. Removing the label, he put the robe on and tied it at the waist.

He located his jeans and pulled his cell phone out from the pocket, checking he hadn't missed any incoming texts. Something he did enjoy about working for Wednesday's parents was that they rarely contacted him on work matters, and when they did it was only ever by letter. Naturally, as their money manager, he was privy to most of their financial activities, however he often felt the need to check in at the house from time to time to see that they were in fact still alive. Though, part of him wondered whether it was worth concerning himself over them at all, as sometimes he suspected they might somehow be immortal.

'Perhaps I'll entertain that thought with Wednesday,' he smirked to himself.

Thankfully, his own parents hadn't tried to bug him about not having been home yet, either, as he'd mentioned to them the previous day about the possibility of him staying the night with a 'friend'. Jeremy wasn't actually entirely sure how he'd go about explaining the nature of Wednesday to his parents, were things to continue and they actually began dating — it occurred to him that she might be somewhat of an acquired taste, as a person…

He ventured slowly downstairs. He found no sign of his host as he wandered through the foyer and into the kitchen. He noticed her candles still sitting in the same spot on the counter as the previous night. He imagined they still needed a while longer to set. Nevertheless, their fragrance still vaguely scented the air. He meandered over toward the small round window above the counter and held the hatch open. Daylight streamed onto the street outside.

A cold hand suddenly found itself on Jeremy's shoulder.

"Boo," Wednesday said, with little enthusiasm.

Still, Jeremy jolted forward in startlement, dropping the hatch with a thud.

She smirked in amusement.

He turned to her, his mouth agape. "Good morning?" he chuckled.

"Morning, day dweller," she smiled.

She stepped toward him and began adjusting the collar of his robe.

"You look good in my clothes," she teased.

He pressed his lips together. "Gee, thanks." He grinned at her.

"You sleep soundly?" she asked.

"Yeah, I did. Did you… stay awake the entire night soundly?" he joked.

She smirked again and let go of him. "I did have somewhat of a long nap with you after you fell asleep." She shrugged. "I might not be tired for a while."

"Oh," he smiled, "you wanna do something, then?"

She looked around, considering it.

"I mean, it could be fun just to wander the city a little," he offered, "I think there's a market, actually, just down the way."

She stared at him dubiously. "Do you just… Have a photographic memory of everything you pass when you drive down here?" she teased, "why do you always seem to know where everything is in my neighborhood?"

He felt slightly taken aback, but amused at the same time. "I mean… we used to live in Manhattan, I don't think I'm—"

"Like, in Midtown…?" she broke in.

"…Y'know, East Village…" he answered.

She smirked at him. "Why do you always sound like you're lying?"

"I'm not!" he shook his head, but couldn't stifle a smile, "you just— you made it seem like I'm out here stalking you, or something, I just actually sort of lived around here for a few years, when I was in elementary school."

"Mhm," she sounded unconvinced, "and you just happen to remember where a McDonald's and a farmer's market are in the next neighborhood over, more than ten years later…"

He gawkily looked up at the ceiling. "Okay, well, you're right, that was me remembering from the car ride over…"

She rolled her eyes and then glanced at her pantry, which was looking rather barren.

"So?" he posited, "what do you think?"

"Maybe..." she said. She side-eyed at him for a moment. "You're not like, skipping out on your job, or anything, to be here, are you?"

He chuckled. "No… I'm uh, I'm freelance, so I don't really do the whole nine-to-five… I'll be honest I don't have any other clients yet besides your folks, and uh, I guess as you know, they overpay me by like, a lot," he said, scratching the back of his head.

"Yes, of course," Wednesday pondered with amusement, "my inheritance money is being whittled away by a guy I've just slept with."

Jeremy gave a reluctant laugh.

"I wouldn't laugh — that gives me leverage over you…" she added.

"Uh-huh…" he chuckled. "Or— how so?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, Jeremy," she smiled pleasantly.

He figured that she'd be better at carrying on this bit than he would be, so he shook his head and changed the subject.

"Well— how about it?" he restated, "go for a little wander?"

She took her time answering. "Give me a moment to get ready," she finally said, turning on her heel and heading back to her bedroom.

He caught himself staring as she left — there was something mesmerizing about the way in which she carried herself, as though she held the very floor beneath her in contempt. He wasn't even entirely certain what it was about her scornful demeanor which attracted him so — he'd either been put under some type of trance by her, or, more likely, he was learning something new and surprising about his own preferences.

Snapping back to reality, Jeremy suddenly had a notion toward self-consciousness also, and debated going up and asking Wednesday if she had a spare toothbrush he could use.

He instead decided to pop outside and raid the glove compartment of his car for some breath-mints.

He took a moment to breathe in the dewy morning air, which smelt in contrast to the candlestick-laden, vaguely sage-smelling crypt from which he'd just emerged. Not that it was intolerable — it roughly resembled the smell of an old church, based on the few that he'd ever been inside. He wondered whether there might be some irony to that.

Jeremy locked his car back up and began back toward the entrance, not wanting Wednesday to think he'd run out on her or anything.

The front door clicked open just as he made it to the stairs. Wednesday emerged in a dark, cloak-like dress, wearing a wide-brimmed black sunhat, and large round sunglasses.

He amused himself thinking about just how starkly different the two of them looked.

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

"Well?" she asked stonily.

"Uh," he chuckled, "yeah, I'm ready, let's go."

She cagily descended the stairs and they began down the street together. Wednesday stared unnaturally straight ahead as a pair of joggers in fluorescent outfits passed them by on the sidewalk. He got the sense that she didn't much care for being out amongst the bustling city, to put it mildly. He imagined she'd probably far prefer some sort of a ghost town, devoid of other people. Supposedly this side of town might not be too far from it during certain hours of the night, he thought.

"It's only a couple of blocks up, I think," he commented to fill the silence while they strolled.

"Okay," she curtly replied.

She glanced at him momentarily and then looked down toward her shoes. After a moment, she stiffly closed the distance between them such that their shoulders lightly touched.

"So... where abouts do you and your parents live right now, anyway?" she asked.

"Oh, well— okay, this probably sounds weird, but we're actually up at Woodlawn Heights," he replied with a chuckle as Wednesday twitched in recognition.

"So… you used to live one neighborhood away from where I live now, and you currently live one neighborhood away from my parents' manor… where I grew up…" she summarized with skepticism. "It doesn't matter — I don't believe in 'cosmic coincidence', if that's what you're getting at…"

"Yeah, I don't know," he chuckled, "it's a little strange though, you gotta admit."

She ignored him. "I'm assuming you placed an ad in the paper, then," she surmised, "my father is always hell-bent on hiring as local as possible no matter the job — to his detriment, in my opinion."

Jeremy turned and pointed to himself, feigning insult.

She glanced at him. "Without exception," she added, a small smile creeping onto her face.

He grinned in return.

As they came to a crosswalk, Wednesday seemed to find some fascination with the corner store next to her. Through the windows, Jeremy spotted half a dozen upright pianos, as well as a couple of grands toward the back of the store.

Wednesday had her arms folded, and looked to be in thought.

"You play?" he asked.

She was silent for a moment.

"Lurch does," she said, "although... not since he's been staying with me, I suppose, we don't have anything like that at the apartment."

Jeremy nodded along.

"Well, damn, Lurch is a dude of many talents, huh?" he said.

"He and my father were always the artists of the house," she replied, with what seemed like a twinkle of nostalgia in her voice.

"You had, like, a cello in your room though, right?" he said.

"Well, yes," she side-eyed him, "I wouldn't really consider what I do artistry, though — it's more something I take my rage out on, occasionally…"

Jeremy raised a brow in amusement, turning back to the storefront.

"Got space for one of those, you think?" he wondered.

She hummed in contemplation.

"I wonder if there are any stores that might be able to sell me a church organ at this hour," she thought aloud.

He looked at her, curious.

She glanced his way. "Lurch's favored instrument — he much prefers the tone, as well as being able to play Bach's Toccata and Fugue in its original glory."

"Huh," Jeremy replied, "you know, there are these, like, electronic 'pianos' that you can get, called synthesizers, where you can push a button and it'll emulate the sound of an organ."

She looked at him.

"That's crude," she said, with mild disgust.

Jeremy smiled. He knew that part of him wanted to nerd out and attempt to convince her of the benefits of the technology.

Wednesday, observing his facial expression, seemed to become aware of this, returning him a small smirk of endearment. It only lasted a moment, however — she turned away from him and placed her hands in her waist pockets. He'd noticed that her guard was up more than usual since they'd stepped out in public. Which, in fairness, was true of most people, Jeremy thought to himself.

Wednesday seemed to put a pin in her thoughts regarding the piano shop, and they continued on their way. Over toward the end of the next block Jeremy could spot people filtering in and out of the street carrying their cotton produce bags. As they drew nearer, he began to catch the fresh scents in the air. 

"I bet I can guess your favorite fruit," he pestered her.

"Please…" she side-eyed him.

"No, like, I'm pretty sure I've got it, hundred percent, no real need to say it—"

She stopped and glared at him "You don't, but I'll always be eager to watch you fail at something," she retorted, "go ahead…"

"Blood orange, final answer," he joked.

She attempted a scowl, but found herself amused. She resumed walking.

He hurried back to her side. "Wait— was that actually it?" he chuckled.

She attempted not to look at him. "I don't think I've necessarily thought about it before, but I'd probably say pomegranate — they remind me of a nest of spider eggs… Not that I'd ever murder a spider's offspring." She glanced at him. "I'd offer up a human child, though, if they were acting obnoxious enough."

He nibbled his top lip. "Yeah, you would've hated me as a kid…"

She looked as though she was willing to continue bickering with him, but broke off their animated interaction, seemingly due to the amount of people around them. She instead began to browse the produce stalls while he lagged behind her.

While Wednesday's discomfort with being around crowds in public was quite palpable to him, Jeremy was glad that she was willing to spend time with him outside of the house. It wasn't as though he would have pushed her if she really hadn't wanted to, but the fact that she hadn't put up too much of a fight about it was encouraging, he supposed.

He noticed her pick up a coconut and present it to him.

"Yeah, let's get it," he said in response, "coconut milk is great!"

She looked at him. "Well, I've heard a coconut is no harder to crack than a human skull…" she replied.

"Uh— is that true?" he puzzled.

The friendly looking lady running the stall appeared to notice the two of them.

"Would you's like to buy a burlap bag for that one?" she asked pleasantly.

Jeremy and Wednesday both made eyes at each other for a moment, before he made the decision.

"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks," he replied, "how much are they?"

"I'll throw one in for a quarter, but the coconut'll be two dollars," the lady smiled.

He glanced back at Wednesday quickly, while he took his wallet out. "I've got cash, don't worry about it," he said to her.

The lady spoke up again. "You two make a gorgeous couple, by the way, you ever been told that?"

This evoked a glare from Wednesday. "Do you accept payment in the form of curses?" she shot at her.

Jeremy quickly spoke again. "No— she's just kidding, here," he handed over a five dollar bill with a chuckle, "thanks, again— plus tip."

"Oh, sweetheart — you're so kind!" the lady exalted.

"No problem, no problem," Jeremy replied. He led Wednesday away while she grimaced at him.

"You must have thought she was pretty, or something — that was generous," she mocked, "we could have gotten two coconuts for that."

"Don't be silly," he said, "I feel like you were about to go off on her, or something."

Wednesday shook her head. "She was the one being weird…"

"Well, we've got a bag to carry stuff back with now, so, that's something," he replied.

Wednesday responded by liberally piling some tomatoes into the bag, from another stall.

"Can you reach the onions from over there, too?" she gestured.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he replied, grabbing a couple for her.

"Let me know if you spot any artichokes, too," she added, "Lurch enjoys preparing their roasted hearts."

Jeremy nodded, but was distracted by something from the corner of his eye. He thought he saw…

He shrugged it off, and payed for the produce they'd just acquired. Wednesday seemed to be preoccupied with keeping the items they'd bought separated inside the bag.

"You know," he said to her, "since Lurch is still away, I guess it'll be up to us to make something out of all this."

"Well, so far we only have the ingredients for pasta sauce, really," she said, moving a little closer to him so that she didn't have to speak too loudly.

"Uh, I don't know," he replied with a smile, "find me some cucumber and some bell peppers and I can probably whip up a decent gazpacho…"

She silently giggled at him. "Well, over there were some—"

Whatever caught Wednesday's eye had her looking positively mortified. Jeremy had little time to turn around before hearing the flamboyant boasts of a familiar voice.

"Children!" Gomez exalted, as he stood before them, joined at the elbow by his always well-put-together wife, Morticia. Jeremy couldn't help but note that he was now outnumbered three-to-one by those dressed head-to-toe in black.

"Fancy seeing you here!" Gomez finished, flashing unbridled pride in his brief moments of eye contact with Jeremy, who managed a meager "hey" in return.

Wednesday's eyes were daggers. "How long have you been following us…?" she demanded.

Morticia spoke up in a pleasant tone. "Wednesday, please, you've been dead to the world ever since we let you move out here. For the first year, we couldn't have been more thrilled for you, but… to go so long without hearing from our own flesh and blood — it's taken its toll on us, dear…"

Wednesday shook her head and instead turned back toward her father for answers. She didn't seem to appreciate his chipper grin.

"The Packard is parked out front, dear," he replied exuberantly, "we made the decision to visit yesterday, when Lurch stopped by the house for some supplies for you, you see? We figured coming by in the morning would give us the opportunity to not only see how you'd been keeping the house, but for me to treat your mother to a day in The Big Apple! It's been some time..."

He lifted his wife's hand and planted a swift kiss on it. Jeremy mused upon Gomez's sing-song ways of telling his stories, while Wednesday continued to listen with narrowed eyes.

"You can only imagine our delight," he continued enthusiastically, "as we pull up the street to find the two of you leaving the house, together, for a— well, surely this is a date, no?" he glimmered at them.

Wednesday squeezed Jeremy's wrist tightly enough to cause him pain. "We're leaving," she commanded him. She tugged him in the other direction, back toward the street.

"We have the car, mountain-flower!" Gomez called after them, "save yourselves the distance!"

Jeremy did his best to keep apace with her as she marched them back the way they came, her knuckles clenched around the mouth of their grocery bag.

"Why on earth does he like you so much?!" she demanded, as they walked.

"Wh— what do you mean?" he puzzled.

"He wouldn't stop looking at you, as though you were— never mind…" she shook her head.

He wasn't entirely sure what to say in order to calm her.

"…I can hold that for you, if you'd like," he offered.

"Hm? Oh— it's fine, don't worry about it…" she replied.

They walked the final block back in silence. She decided to let him hold their bag after all, while she retrieved the key to let them back in the house.

"I wonder how quickly I could have these locks changed…" she thought aloud.

Seemingly as it occurred to her, the familiar Addams vehicle pulled up to the curb beside them, giving Jeremy's car a light tap on the rear bumper. He spotted Lurch in the driver's seat, who seemingly grimaced in apology as he met Jeremy's eyes.

Wednesday rolled her eyes and stormed back inside the house, leaving the door open behind her.

Jeremy felt torn as to whether he should attempt some sort of an amelioration the current tension, or to at least offer Gomez and Morticia a proper greeting, after what just happened. His indecision ultimately led to him standing gawkily by the door as they both graced the entry steps, with Lurch following behind them.

Gomez patted Jeremy's shoulder, urging him to join them inside. "Come, Jeremy! We wish to know everything!"

He gingerly nodded, and allowed himself to be led inside with them.

"She must fancy herself a vampire, these days…" Morticia cheekily commented, in reference to the blackouts preventing any and all daylight from streaking in.

Gomez chuckled at her, but turned back toward Jeremy.

"So, you live here now, how marvelous!" he said, grasping both of Jeremy's arms.

"I— no, no," he babbled.

"You slept here last night, though?" Gomez confirmed.

"Uh… yeah… but—" he replied.

"Oh, I'm overjoyed, son! You took our request to heart!" he praised.

"No, I— it's not really like that…" he attempted to explain.

The party turned to notice Wednesday glaring down at them from over the balustrade on the landing outside of her bedroom.

"If you all have so much catching up to do, then why don't you take him with you…" she said coldly of Jeremy.

"Wednesday," Morticia began casually, "Pugsley has come to stay with us for a few days, we'd like you both to come back with us and to do the same."

She rolled her eyes, but considered it. "Fine," she said after a moment, "but I get the east wing to myself, then…"

"Yourself and Jeremy, dear?" Gomez added, a hand still clutching Jeremy's shoulder.

Her eyes darted around bashfully. "Whatever…"

Morticia pressed her hands together. "Wonderful, my dear — we'll have a bed made up and ready for you."

The couple turned to one another and appeared to make up their minds.

"We needn't disturb you any further, sweetheart," Gomez exclaimed warmly, "we shall await you at the manor for our family reunion! Perhaps I may even convince Fester and Dementia to join us for supper one of these nights!"

"…Okay then…" Wednesday murmured back at her father.

"No matter — we'll exchange proper un-pleasantries when we next meet," he winked at her, evoking a small smile in return.

As the two said a temporary goodbye to Jeremy as well, he noticed Wednesday give a nod to Lurch, who followed everybody out.

Jeremy was left alone in the foyer, standing there awkwardly and scratching head. He glanced up after a moment to where Wednesday had been standing, but she'd seemed to have disappeared into her bedroom without a word.

He hung his head, and began to ascend the staircase in order to go and check on her.

He found her lying on her side on the bed, facing away from him.

She shifted in response to hearing him enter. "I should've probably guessed that something like this would happen," she sighed.

Jeremy crinkled his nose. "Sorry if I, uh, made things weird, or whatever…" he offered.

She turned onto her back and then propped herself up by the elbows so that she could look at him.

"You know..." she began, "I hadn't really thought about whether this was gonna be… a thing, like, for real…"

He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. "I don't know… I don't think we really need to worry about stuff like that right now — not if you don't want to…" He offered a smile. "I know that I like spending time with you — I don't know if anything else really needs to matter..."

Her expression seemed to soften. She subtly made eyes at the spot on the bed next to her, inviting him to join her. He did so, and she snuggled up next to him, like she had the previous night.

"I guess it's just the fact that it feels like they're still trying to do everything for me, all the way down to choosing my next lover…" she lamented, "I suppose that doesn't really account for your agency in all this, though."

She looked up at him. "And besides, you're too much of a dork to be manipulating me, anyway," she added, giving a little smirk.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," he replied, making a humorous expression, "for all you know, I was raised and trained as a world-class assassin — you wouldn't have the first clue you were being manipulated until it was too late—"

She shook her head at his nonsense, affectionately reaching over toward his face and squeezing both his cheeks together around his mouth, in an effort to stop him from talking.

"I can blend into any situation, become any character," he continued in muffled fashion, reminiscing on his hours spent playing the video-game Hitman: Codename 47.

She resorted to poking him in the sides, instead.

"Hey!…" he protested, taking her arms and holding them away from him.

She quickly lost the energy to continue wrestling with him.

"We should just drive up there today, I think…" she decided.

"Oh," he replied, "you normally turn in around this time, though."

"It's fine, I'll just sleep in the car…" she said lazily.

"Hm," he responded. "…You put the food away, huh?"

"Yeah," she said quietly, wrapping her body around his.

He chuckled. "We're not gonna be able to leave if you get too comfortable."

"Just—" she yawned, "we'll leave in five minutes, or something…"

"Okay, five minutes," he agreed.

He cradled her head in his arms, as she nuzzled up into his chest, and they lay there for a while.