Wenclair oneshots

Desperate measures

Summary:
There is nothing Wednesday would not do to win Enid Sinclair's heart. Including asking her mother for advice

Wednesday once said she'd rather dye her hair pink than ask her mother for help.

The circumstances have since changed.

It seems she has, in an unfortunate turn of events, gone and fallen in love.

Even worse, the person she has fallen head over heels and completely and utterly in love with is Enid Sinclair. Her loud, colorful, bubbly, blonde room mate. Someone who is about as different from Wednesday as people come. As far as anything like courting goes, Wednesday has no idea where to start with this girl.

She knows nothing about flowers and poems, she has no experience with the lovey-dovey stuff she fears is what will win Enid's heart. However, she grew up with two people who very much do, and when Enid has left their dorm she sits down at her desk and calls her parents on the crystal ball.

It only takes a moment for Morticia to pick up on the other side, her smiling face showing up in the crystal.
"Wednesday, darling!" she greets kindly.
Wednesday leans forward over her desk.
"Mother, I have important business to discuss with you", she says, wasting no time.
Morticia nods.
"Alright, little bat. Anything you like", she says.
Wednesday takes a deep breath. Closes her eyes.
"There is this... girl", she starts.

Opening her eyes. she sees her mother nodding.
"Are we cursing or poisoning?" she asks.
Wednesday makes a high-pitched, horrified noise.
"Mother, no! I- I like her", she says.
Her mother's expression goes from murderous to delighted.
"Ooooohhhh!"
"Mother...", Wednesday warns through a growl.
"Gomez, did you hear that!? Our little girl's got the heart curse!"
"MOTHER!"

Morticia turns back to the crystal.
"Okay, dear. You had questions?"
Wednesday nods.
"Yes. I need to know how to win Enid's heart", she starts.
Morticia nods as she listens.
"Enid isn't like us, mother. She likes colors and unicorns, and she would not appreciate the common courting gifts, like dead flowers or animal parts", Wednesday explains.
"Well, I guess people do come in all kinds...", Morticia says.

The first thing Morticia suggested was a love letter, and the next time Enid goes out with her friends Wednesday sits down to write a love letter. Twirling the pen in her hand, she stares at the paper, like she hopes the words will appear if the paper feels threatened enough.

"What am I doing?" she asks.
Thing helpfully taps the desk. She scoffs.
"Yeah, writing from my heart might work for people like my father, but I am not him and Enid is not my mother", she responds, angrily twirling the pen.

This is a completely new experience for her. Not completely loathing another human being, even liking that human being. Wanting to be close to her. Wanting her to like her, too. That last bit is the scariest part: suddenly caring about what someone else thinks of her. If Enid doesn't like her she's going to leave her, and that would suck the sucky kind of suck, and that's why the letter needs to be good. It needs to be sweet and heartfelt and all the other disgusting adjectives her mother had given her to consider. Wednesday is none of those things, but, hell, she would try for Enid.

Finally, she has something she can deem an acceptable love letter, complete with a polite request that Enid meets her for a date later that week. She folds it up neatly, and, after some consideration, places it on Enid's pink pillow before leaving for beekeeping club.

Eugene clearly notices something is up with her, and for some reason Wednesday trusts him, so she tells him about the love letter.

"You shouldn't worry. I've seen the way she looks at you", Eugene tells her.
Wednesday pauses, glazing at him.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, let's just say you were right when you said she wouldn't be romantically interested in me."
"What do you mean?" Wednesday presses.