Work Text:
“Will it hurt?” Joel asked, then immediately winced. “Sorry. Stupid question. How much will it hurt, I mean?”
“Still the wrong question,” Wednesday told him. “You don’t have to do this, you know. We can just spend the rest of your life together.”
“No, I want to be a real Addams. I can handle it. You know I can.” He caught the slight flicker of her attention to the white streak in his hair: a treasured souvenir from Debbie’s funeral. “I just like to be prepared.”
Wednesday sighed. “Taking the risk and terror as it comes is part of being an Addams. Like Father always says, ‘A little threat of poison only makes the wine sweeter.’”
“I get it.” He took her hand in his, stroking the obsidian engagement ring. “What’s the first step? Leap off the attic roof? Knife to my jugular?”
How he loved her not-smiles. “I was thinking we’d save that for later tonight. For now...” With her free hand, she pulled a flask from her pocket.
Joel took the flask, raised it halfway, then paused. “Poison?”
Wednesday arched an eyebrow.
“Right.” He uncorked the flask and saluted her. “To the rest of our lives - and deaths.”