The Addams Family Meets Dr. House

Chapter One: The Closet, the Cane, and the Headless Doll

House looked around to make sure no one was watching, before opening the door to the closet. His plan was to hide out there, where Cutty couldn't find him to make him work, his leg hurt and he didn't feel like working. Cutty would never think to look in the janitor's closet.

He was about to step in when he noticed the closet was already occupied by a little girl with two long black braids. The girl looked up at him, he noticed she was holding a headless doll. They stared at each other for a moment before the girl said, "Find your own closet, this one's mine, I found it first."

House didn't make a move to leave or to join her, "Where's your parents?" he sighed, he supposed he should take her to them, or give her to Wilson, or something.

"Mother's sick and Father's with her."

"Do you know where they are?"

"Yes, I got here didn't I," the girl said.

"Let's go find them," House sighed again holding out his hand. She stared at him blankly for a moment then shrugged to herself, and got up, taking his hand. They started down the hallway.

"What's your name?"the girl asked after a minute.

"Dr. House." He said, but didn't attempt to make conversation beyond that.

"Mine's Wednesday Addams." The girl told him, obviously not picking up on the fact he didn't want to talk. Children where so annoying that way.

"What kind of name is that?" House asked her.

"My kind of name, that's what Uncle Fester, always says."

"And what kind of person are you for 'Wednesday' to be your kind of name?"

Wednesday shrugged, "Mother and Father say I'm special."

"Yes, well all parents want their kids to think that, don't they? Just goes to show no one's special."

They got in the elevator, Wednesday pressed one of the buttons without hesitating, "Do you have any kids?" she asked looking up at him.

"Nope," he answered and allowed their conversation to fall back into silence.

"Why do you have a cane?"

"Why do you carry around a broken doll?" House shot back.

"She's not broken," Wednesday told him, "She's Marie Antoinette, and mother told us what happened to her," she drew a line across her neck and made a ccck kind of sound.

"Is that what they're teaching kids these days," House said, so much for an innocent little child.

"Oh, they don't teach us that sort of thing in school. They just make us read horrible stories about shoving nice old witches in oven, and evil knights killing poor helpless dragons."

"The original Grimm fairy tales where much darker," House told her, "For example in one the wolf murders Rid Riding Hood."

House had expected the child to recoil in revulsion, but instead little Wednesday's eyes lit up, 'Oh, those sound so much more pleasant."

As the elevator's doors dinged open, House wondered where this child had gone wrong.