A Family Reunion

Posted on Sun 16th Jun, 2019 @ 12:37pm by Purulence Addams & Ignatius Collins
Edited on on Sun 16th Jun, 2019 @ 4:37pm

976 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: A Diplomatic Affair
Location: The Addams House, Queen Anne Villas, Tivoli Gardens
Timeline: MD 1, 18:45

It was in the nature of a procession, a parade of the macabre. A woman, tall and slender; a man, short and rotund. They were followed by another woman, not quite as tall, not quite as slender, dressed in the red uniform of a Commander of the Starfleet of the United Federation of Planets, and beside her, a youngish man with a wide face, a penetrating gaze, and curling brown hair that had occasional streaks of gray in it. At the tail end, a blonde woman best described by the word "voluptuous" followed along, the stem of a lollipop protruding from her mouth.

They strolled down the cobblestone street together, talking of nothing in particular. At the end of the block was a fence. In itself, that fact was not unusual; most of the houses along the street had fences. But where they tended to white picket, this one was wrought iron in a Gothic style, showing points of rust here and there. Behind the fence was a hedge, not recently trimmed; branches stuck out, through the fencing, as if tiny hands were reaching to ensnare passers-by... or perhaps, pleading for their assistance.

As the five turned the corner next to this fence, a murder of crows exploded from a dead tree, cawing raucously. Along the fence, they came to a gate, which opened for them. One might expect it to creak ominously, but it was silent, and somehow, that was even more ominous, after the complaints of the crows.

There was a stone walk, and a set of stone steps. Two cats sat on the porch, quietly regarding the visitors to their kingdom. One stood, stretched, and hopped down out of sight. The other waited, purring almost silently as the group approached. At the top of the steps, at the back of the porch was a door, made of dark wood, with a center panel of exquisitely wrought stained glass. There was an image there, of a woman being burned at the stake.

The door opened, and another tall, slender woman, this one dressed in Medical blue with the rank insignia of a Lieutenant Commander, stood there, her shadow falling across the group. "Enter freely, and of your own will," she instructed them.

"Chlamydia, my darling!" the rotund little man exclaimed, bounding forward to embrace her. "Ignatius, old man, my oldest daughter, Chlamydia Addams."

Ignatius hastily straightened from giving the cat a scratch behind the ears. Did he really say his daughter's name is Chlamydia?! Who the hell does that? The woman standing before him looked unmistakably like Gloriana, but without the six-inch fingernails, Ignatius was relieved to see.

"Ignatius Collins. It's a pleasure to meet you, Commander," he said and extended a hand.

Score one for diplomacy, Ischemia thought, seeing the look of surprise, quickly suppressed, on Collins' face at the introduction. As his attention was busy elsewhere, she eyed him carefully, making a preliminary analysis of her father's new colleague, if that's what he was. It was true, he had survived several days with her father and mother ... but he had yet to survive the entire family for more than an hour. And really, why is he still with us and not off about his own business?

Chlamydia held out her hand to the young man, not as if she expected him to shake it, but as if she expected him to kiss it. "Enchanté, certainement."

Ignatius blinked and then took Chlamydia Addams' graceful, proffered hand almost to his lips and bowed over it before releasing it and straightening. Well, that makes one useful thing Cousin Barnabas taught me, Ignatius thought.

A small figure in a black trumpet dress with a blood-red collar and glittery rainbow toned stockings squeezed by Chlamydia. "Pop-pop!" she exclaimed, jumping into Pubert's arms.

"Imp!" He exclaimed, catching her. "Ignatius, my grand-daughter, Experiment Number Six Addams. Imp, I don't think you've met Cousin Malice or Cousin Cookie?"

"Hello," Ignatius said and smiled at the oddly-dressed little girl. He moved aside so she could properly meet her adult cousins.

And that was when he saw her up close--the woman he'd caught sight of in the shuttlebay earlier that day, the woman with skin that was, well, all right, as black as ebony, to be cliched about it. As black as space. Like polished onyx. And yet there were subtle shades to it, shadows where her clavicle showed beneath her throat. Deep, deep browns, a satiny sheen of white where the light struck her skin just so, the satiny sheen turning into something like the darkest, smoothest mahogany he'd ever imagined. It took his breath away. Eyes that were wide and dark, looking startled at him.

Why am I staring at her? Ignatius wondered. He shook himself out of the daze and flicked his gaze somewhere else--at the hot-looking woman standing next to her, with hair like black satin and a knowing smile on her red lips.

And ... she just didn't do it for him. Instead, Ignatius wanted to let his gaze travel up the dark-skinned woman's lovely neck, to her jawline, to--Why am I acting like this? What the hell is wrong with me? Ignatius asked himself, feeling perturbed now. I'm acting like Cousin Barnabas, looking at his painting of Josette. Yech! Again, he flicked his gaze away, to look at the stone wall of the house, the bizarre stained-glass image in the door, Lt. Commander Addams' uniform sleeve, anything to keep from losing himself in the sight of Whoever-She-Was.

"Purulence Addams," the woman said in a completely neutral tone of voice. "Welcome to our home. This is my sister, Ischemia."

"There is nothing in the least purulent about you," Ignatius declared. Why am I talking like a gob-smacked idiot?

 

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