Title" Wednesday's Child Genre: The Addams Family Rating PG-13 Word count: 1034 Prompt: What is your favorite day of the week? My thanks to ravena_kade for playing along and to my beta, sparky955 for her help! Morticia Addams eyed each rose critically. Each thorn had to be just so, poised to draw blood at the slightest touch. When she found the perfect one, she’d snip off the garish blossom on the end and place the stem into Uncle Hymie’s vase. It had been so good of him to be crushed into such an accommodating shape. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her husband fence with their man servant, Lurch. Gomez leapt and danced about, thrusting haphazardly, but Lurch was able to deflect each attempt, parrying each blow without moving any unnecessary muscles. Lurch was good at that. The front door open and closed loudly. A glance at the clock assured her it was merely the children home from school. A moment later, they walked in, sullen, and looking a bit depressed. “Did you have a lovely day, my dears?” She glided to them smoothly. Lurch wasn’t the only one who didn’t have to move a muscle. “Not really.” Pugsley glared at his mother. “They are such idiots. “Pugsley, what have we said about name calling?” Gomez lowered his sword and search in his pocket for a cigar. “I’m sorry, Father, Freaking stupid idiots.” “That’s better.” Gomez beamed with fatherly pride. “What have your classmates done now?” “I was talking about the teachers.” “Pugsley!” Morticia was mortified. “You must never say that about your teachers. They are paid very poorly and have the tender task of molding your brains into a steel-trap, ready to snap up any opportunity that comes your way as adults.” “They said that at the Salem Witch Trials, no actual witches were burned at the stake because witches don’t exist.” “Sorry, my dear, I have to side with the boy this time. They are idiots.” Gomez puffed away. “She is merely misinformed, that’s all. Why, Goodwoman Addams cursed the entire jury. Their offspring still bear that curse. You can’t do that if you’re not a real witch. Did you try to reason with her?” “I invited her to dinner.” Pugsley’s eyes took on an evil glow. “Grandmamma will be sure to make her something lovely and deadly.” “Well done, my boy! Spoken like a true Addams.” Gomez couldn’t have been more proud. “Now, do you have homework?” “Yes, sir.” “Then you’d better get upstairs and ignore it.” “Yes, Father.” Pugsley stomped away, nearly stepped on Kitty’s tail. “Whoops, sorry, Kitty.” The lion growled, but didn’t move to attack. “And you, my little one. How was your day?” Morticia turned back to her daughter. If anything, Wednesday’s gloom increased. “Why did you name me Wednesday?” “Well we were going to call you, Mercredi , but you know how your father gets.” Gomez’s eyes flamed and his breath quickened. “Tish, that’s French. You know what that does to me!” She smiled. Oui, mon amor. ” Gomez was upon her, kissing his way up her arm, then bending over backwards until she was almost in half. “More, Tish!” he commanded. “More, pourquoi, maison, encore, chauffer !” “Later, dear, children’s crises now, chauffer later.” Gomez released her and forced his Castilian blood to cool. “And now you know why we didn’t name you that.” Morticia patted her husband’s cheek and returned to their daughter. “We couldn’t have your father doing that all the time… well, more than he already does, at any rate.” “Yes, Mother. I could see the inconvenience, but why Wednesday? Everyone else’s name means something. Mine means Fourth Day.” “Well, you were born on the fourth day. You are fourth in line to inherit the Addams title.” She took her daughter aside. “Would you excuse us, gentlemen?” Gomez glanced around and gestured to Lurch. “I guess she means us, old man.” Morticia waited for them to leave and then turned her attention back. I will tell you how you got your name, but you must promise me that you will not repeat what I am about to tell you.” Wednesday frowned and nodded, her fingers crossed behind her back. “I promise.” “You were named after a poem.” A… a poem?” “Yes. When you came along, we were expecting a boy. Everyone said that’s what I was having and I didn’t argue. However, suddenly there you were and no one had a plan.” “And the poem?” Morticia cleared her throat. “I saw it on the wall of the nursery at the hospital" and recited, 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, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child must work for a living, But the child that's born on the Sabbath day, Is fair and wise and good and gay. “After I thought about it a bit, I decided that Wednesday was the perfect name for you and it is my favorite day of the week. Imagine my delight as you grew and embraced your destiny.” Wednesday’s eyes narrowed and then she stomped away. Gomez appeared from the curtained door where he’d been hiding as Morticia swayed slightly. “Do you think she bought it?” He moved swiftly to Morticia’s side and helped her to her favorite peacock chair. “We must be sure she never sees her birth certificate, Gomez. She would never forgive us if she knew the truth.” “I never forgave us. At least you had the presence of mind to lie.” “At the time of a crisis, it’s all that a mother can do at times, or so it seems.” “You’re a good mother, Tish.” Gomez dropped his lit cigar into the pocket of his jacket and smoke started coming from it. It was, after all, a smoking jacket. “She doesn’t need to know she was born on a Sunday.” “Mais oui. ” She held out her arm and Gomez began chewing his way up it. “Tish, that’s French!” “De rien.” “Say something else!” “Est-ce que je peux payer avec une carte de crédit ?“ Wednesday watched her parents from the mezzanine and sighed. Parents! At least they’d had the common courtesy to lie to her. With that reassurance, she left in search of her brother. When it came to the game of revenge, Wednesday knew just how to play it.