Disclaimer: The characters and anything else that may be part of the characters and scenery and other ideas that belong to Chas Addams or Paramount do not belong to me. The plot and anything you don't recognize is mine.

A/N: Enjoy, I don't think I've written my version of Morticia's Romance, only reworded the one that is in the 1960's TV show. Therefore, I decided to write my own. Please remember to review at the end!

Morticia sat listening to her parents as they yelled at each other about her and her sister's futures. It had been this way since Ophelia came of age about two years ago. Her mother, always the traditionalist, thought that Ophelia should be married to some Addams boy through an arranged marriage. Her father believed she should be able to find love, that both of his daughters deserved to find love. Her mother was insistent that Ophelia be married first, now that Morticia was of age as well. Her father didn't care. It was a constant battle that rang throughout their mansion. Morticia put her hands over her ears and closed her eyes, trying to block out the sound. She pulled her knees up to her chest, making herself small.

"Why do you care if they find love? You and I were an arranged marriage! And your lover ran off with your best friend!" her mother never could seem to let that go. How her husband had been in love before, and how she had run off with his best friend, and best man, the night before they were to be married. Her father's parents then arranged the marriage with Morticia's mother. They had never loved each other, it was merely a marriage of convenience.

Morticia had enough, quietly she crawled out of her fetal position and found her cloak. She went over to her window and opened it, wincing as it squeaked, but the shouting of her parents was enough that neither of them seemed to hear the noise. Morticia thanked the fact that Ophelia was staying at a friend's house. Morticia didn't have any friends. Carefully she leaned out and let the cloak fall, relishing the cold night air as it washed over her flushed skin. Once the cloak hit the ground two stories below she glanced behind her, hearing the raised voices erased any doubts that she might have had. She threw a leg over the side of the sill and gently lowered herself so she was hanging from the window. Skillfully, obviously having practiced the motion thousands of times, she pushed off from the wall of the house and turned midair to catch herself in the tree about five feet away. She paused, making sure she could still hear the voices; they were there, as persistent as ever. As she climbed down the bare branches of the tree she wondered what would happen if her parents ever learned that she snuck out at night. If they ever opened her bedroom door and found her not there or caught her as she was making her escape. But then she perished the thought, they never went in her room anymore. Just yelled for her to come out and when she didn't they assumed she was asleep, even though she rarely slept anymore.

She reaches the bottom of the tree and picks up her cloak, tying it around her neck to keep out the late night winter chill. She began walking down the road to the gates that would remove her from the Frump Estate. The gate didn't make a noise as she eased it open and closed again, making sure to leave the latch slightly open so she could get back in afterwards. She had scaled the twelve foot stone wall that surrounded the property once, she never wanted to do that again. She began walking down the road toward the one place where she felt safe, where it was quiet and nobody ever disturbed her. It was a warm winter night, though her breath was still coming out in little puffs of steam. The light of the full moon was almost bright enough to make her eyes hurt if she looked directly at it. The sky was clear and she searched for every constellation she knew. Finally she came to the gates of the cemetery, they were supposed to be locked, but they only looked that way. The padlock was closed, but it was only on one part of the chain, the chain wrapped loosely around the two iron doors.

Morticia undid the chain and slipped inside the gates, relishing the feeling that she was at home. There was no fog, which slightly disappointed the pale woman, but she didn't dwell. She walked among the gravestones, not bothering to read the names because she knew them all by heart. Suddenly she got the song "Blue Danube Waltz" stuck in her head and she couldn't get it out. She figured she was alone here, why not dance? There was nobody to see her, at any rate.

Slowly she started to twirl and glide, knowing the steps to the waltz from the countless ball dancing lessons her mother had insisted she take. She closed her eyes, imagining a dark masquerade ball and a handsome man wearing one of those beaked masks dancing with her. She fancied that her dress would be made of the most exquisite red satin covered in the darkest black lace. She would wear black satin gloves that covered almost her whole arm and her own mask, a marvelous match to her dress, would be cat shaped.

Suddenly she wasn't just imagining that she was dancing with a man, she could feel the man under her fingertips and he certainly felt inviting. Her eyes flew open to reveal a cocky grin topped by a pencil mustache on top of olive colored skin. Dancing brown eyes met hers as she stopped spinning and stepped away.

"I apologize, senorita, I didn't mean to startle you."

Morticia stared at the strange man. He looked even more inviting when she could get a good look at him from a slight distance. He was wearing a Breaking Benjamin t-shirt and loose fitting jeans. He was slightly taller than her and well built, his muscles almost reached the sleeves of his shirt and she could tell he had some serious abs. She looked down at her own drab outfit: a black knit sweater that fell off her shoulders and her black and red plaid shirt all accompanied by her knee high Converse. She was wearing her cloak to keep the chill off, and she wished it didn't look so old fashion. She looked up again, meeting those dancing brown eyes.

"That's alright," she replies, a small smile on her red lips.

"You dance very well, have you had practice?" the boy asks. He doesn't seem to be cold, even though all he's wearing is the t-shirt.

"My mother made both my sister and I take ball dancing lessons when we were younger," she said. "Are you cold? It can't be much more than twenty degrees."

He shrugged, but the motion revealed to Morticia the goosebumps running up and down his arms. "Not really."

Morticia gives him a skeptical look, "Yeah, that's why there's little bumps all over your arms." She turns, wondering why she's spending her time with this boy. She thinks she's seen him in school before, but only in her core classes like history, English, science and math. She didn't care much for school, but she always kept her grades up, knowing that the better she did, the sooner she could be out of there.

"Don't go!" he called, she could hear him jogging to catch up. "I'm sorry, yes, it's a little chilly. I left without my coat, I couldn't stand to stay in the house any longer and I just . . . walked out."

Morticia turned back to him, "See? Was that so hard? You could have said that to start with."

"Sorry."

Morticia sat on the bench under the willow tree that rested in the center of the cemetery. It didn't make much sense to her to have a bench in the middle of a cemetery, after all, how many people really came to enjoy the company of the dead? In all of the two years that she had been coming here she had never seen another living soul. Until now. She takes off her cloak and hands it to him as he sits beside her. "Here, at least I have long sleeves."

"I can't leave you out in the cold," he protests. "We'll share." He gently wraps the heavy fabric around the both of them, but Morticia notes the fact that he left his arm around her shoulders.

"So do you come here often?" she asks, feeling uncomfortable in the silence. She wants to talk to him, but she can't come up with words to say. Normally she doesn't talk to anybody.

"Yeah, I come here quite a bit, especially when I don't want to be at my house."

Morticia knew how that felt, "But I've never seen you before."

"Well, normally I don't come at night but . . ." the boy trailed off.

"But what?" Morticia asked, wondering what was troubling him.

He chuckled uncomfortably, "Look at me, I don't even know your name and I'm ready to spill my world of problems on your shoulders. You've probably got enough problems of your own if you hang out in a cemetery."

Morticia didn't know why, but she felt offended at that last comment. She got up, intending to go somewhere else when she felt his warm hand on her wrist, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to sound mean. Please, sit."

After a few moments of consideration, she does as she's bid. "My name is Morticia Frump."

"And I'm Gomez Addams," he replies, catching her gaze with his, he still hasn't let go of her wrist, and she hasn't made him.

"There, now you know my name. What's your problem?" Morticia asks, feeling the need to break the tension growing.

Gomez laughs, "Well, let's just say my mother and I don't see eye to eye. She wants to me get married to some girl I don't even know in some arranged marriage. I'm not even out of high school! I had intended on seeing the world when I graduated, going to concerts, enjoying life. Not getting married and settling down! Yeah, sure, I think it would be nice someday, maybe even I'd have kids. But not now, you know?"

Morticia sat quietly, listening intently. "Yeah, I think I know how you feel. My mother is the same way. She thinks that my sister and I should be married off already, but my father thinks we should be able to marry in our own time. When we find love. They argue about it constantly. That's why I'm here. It's quiet and I don't have to think about who is eventually going to win the battle and decide my future for me," Morticia says. She feels like she can trust this boy, even though she just met him, "But I feel like it's my future, you know? Like, what right do they have to decide it for me? They aren't the ones that are going to have to live with it for the rest of their lives."

Gomez listened just as intently as she had, nodding every now and then like he agreed. "That's exactly how I feel about it."

Morticia smiles, still aware that he hasn't let go of her wrist. Her gaze travels down to it. Suddenly he lets go and the cold winter air replaced the warm touch. She realized she missed it. "I'm sorry."

Morticia looked at him and caught his still retreating hand in her own, twining her fingers through his, "Why do you keep apologizing?" she whispered, suddenly out of breath, noticing for the first time how close they were.

"I have no idea," he replied, sounding just the same.

His hand felt right in hers, they fit together perfectly. Morticia couldn't help but wonder if the rest of them fit just as perfect. Her eyes focused on their linked hands and then his face, his eyes, his lips, his eyes, his lips, before finally fluttering shut completely.

She felt his lips on hers and she moved automatically, kissing him back. It was a tentative kiss at first, sweet and unsure of itself. But quickly it grew into something much more passionate. She noticed how well she reacted to him, his lips parted and closed in the exact same time as hers. There was never a moment where they were once out of sync with each other. She felt her tongue exploring his mouth and his tongue was like a shy little boy. They would meet and she could feel him pull back and merely meet her lips again. When they finally broke apart they were both breathing hard and Morticia's lips were hot and felt a little swollen. Gomez's lips were most certainly a little bit puffier than they had been minutes ago. Morticia could feel a smile work its way onto her lips and Gomez seemed to imitate her expression. She kissed him again, unlacing her fingers from his and twining them around his neck. She played with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck as she felt his arms circle her waist, pulling her to him. She wasn't quite sure how, but she ended up in his lap, straddling his legs, both hands held his face up to hers. She felt him move when he shifted to lower her onto the bench and she went willingly, without thinking of what she was doing or that she had just met this boy. It felt like she had known him her entire life. Morticia felt his lips on her neck and closed her eyes in ecstasy. She could feel her body automatically moving against his and his excitement was quite evident when he responded to her.

Suddenly he pulled away, he was looking down on her and the passion maked his voice rough and gravelly, "This is far too soon, and not the right place."

Morticia sighs, wondering what better place there could be, and wondering if it's far too soon and wrong how it can feel so right. She reaches up and places one last kiss sweetly on his lips, "Okay."

He gets off her, sitting back up and pulling her with him. Reluctantly she follows, wishing he wasn't so virtuous. She sighed, wondering what to talk about after something like that. Suddenly a group of bats flew overhead, covering the moon and she raised her face to the sound, imagining the feel of their many wings.

"Wow," she breathed, entranced by the display of beautiful creatures. When all of them had finished flying she turned to look at Gomez again and found that he was looking at her, an odd expression on his face.

"What?" she asked, wondering if something was out of place.

"Nothing, you're just the most extraordinary person I've ever met. I've never felt anything like I feel when I'm with you. And you're so beautiful . . ." Gomez trailed off, causing Morticia to blush.

"You're just saying that," she replied, embarrassed, she looked down at her shoes, letting her hair fall over her face and cover him from her view.

"No, I'm not," he said, taking her chin in his hand and pulling so that she had to look at him. He tucked her hair back behind her ear, "I meant every word."

Morticia felt the blush as it creeped up her face. She never blushed! He ran his thumb across the pink patches on her cheeks. "You're even more adorable when you're embarrassed."

Morticia, not able to stand this anymore, kisses him again. Though this time it was gently, unsure of herself. He kissed back, and his kiss was like a question against her lips, which she answered by deepening the kiss.

Gomez was again the first one to pull away, "I should really be getting back, Mama doesn't stop me when I leave, but I'm always back before morning."

Morticia nodded, getting up and offering her hand, which he took. Gomez went to put the cloak back on Morticia's shoulders but she stopped him, "Keep it. You need it more than I do right now, I mean, at least I've got a sweater.

He nodded and put it on, it didn't quite fit his shoulders correctly, they were broader than her own, and so it puffed out a bit and hung higher, hitting only about his knees whereas on her it came almost all the way to the ground. The cold winter air bit into her bare shoulders but she didn't mind, especially not after he put his arm around her, blocking out the chill with her cloak. They walked back to the gates in silence, hand in hand. When they finally reached them, Gomez turned to Morticia, "I have to see you again, when can I see you again?"

Morticia laughed a little, "I don't know. Normally I sneak out when my sister isn't home and my parents are arguing."

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

Morticia looked into those beautiful brown eyes and was about to refuse, but something in them wouldn't let her. She knew Ophelia would be back tomorrow, that her sister would surely notice if she was gone. If her parents weren't arguing they would definitely hear if she left. There was no way she could possibly make it back to see him again. "Yes."

The smile that broke across his face was so genuinely happy that Morticia couldn't remember why she wouldn't have wanted to see this silly boy. "Tomorrow is Saturday, how soon can you be here?"

Morticia thought, perhaps if she left a little before midnight nobody would notice her absence. She would just say she was going to bed early because she didn't feel well at about ten or so. "Midnight."

Gomez beamed, "Perfect."

They closed the gate together and Morticia turned to look at Gomez one more time and was greeted by his warm lips. It was a quick kiss. One that left Morticia wanting for so much more. And then he was gone, slinking off into the trees on the other side of the road. Morticia sighed, what had she gotten herself into? She turned and started walking back to her house, the early morning chill causing goosebumps on her arms which she rubbed away. All she could think about on her way back to the Frump Estate was Gomez and his silly pencil mustache and those intense brown eyes. The way his hair, just a little shaggy, would flop into his eyes every now and then and he would have to flip it back out. His olive skin. The way his warm lips felt against hers. The contrast of his skin against hers. How perfectly the two of them seemed to fit together. How comfortable she was when she was around him, as though she had known him her entire life. What had she gotten herself into? The question wouldn't stop running through her head. She finally reached the gate to her home and pushed it open, latching it when she was on the other side. She walked up the long drive and around to the back of the house, directly beneath her open window. No sound came from inside the house and all the lights were off. Morticia wondered if her father was in the living room on the couch or if they had settled enough of their differences for her mother to let him sleep in the bedroom with her. She wondered why her father didn't just take up permanent residence in one of the many guest rooms they had. She thought of Gomez again, and what it would be like to be married to him. She chided herself for the thought as she started to scale the side of the house but she couldn't seem to shake it from her mind. She couldn't imagine ever fighting with him the way her parents fought with each other.

She reached the window and pulled herself inside, swinging her legs over the edge and closing the opening. She shivered, it was cold. She was glad she had put her old comforter on. She hadn't used it in years, preferring her new one with the red roses on a black backdrop, however, the combination of that one with her old wolf and moon setting would probably be enough to warm her up again. Quickly she threw on her lacey nightdress and climbed under the blankets. What had she gotten herself into? She sighed as the question appeared once again. You were just thinking about what it would be like to marry the guy, and you barely even know him! And you agreed to meet him again tomorrow, what were you thinking?! The nasty voice inside her head wouldn't leave her alone about it. Finally another part spoke up, Shut up! I don't care what you think! He's sweet and kind and handsome. What was I thinking? I was thinking that I had finally found somebody who I could stand to be around for longer than five seconds! Somebody who might be my friend.

The other voice scoffed, Since when do you care if you have friends?

She pictured herself glaring defiantly into a mirror, Since I met Gomez Addams, that's when. And there's nothing anybody is going to do to keep me from seeing him, she decided as she drifted off to sleep thinking of those warm lips.

A/N: Again, all reviews are welcome!