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Morticia moaned as she awoke from a deep slumber; something had touched her abdomen, stirring her awake from her pleasant nightmares. Looking up, she saw that it was her husband, Gomez. "Bubele?" She whispered, her hand reaching up to stroke her lover's cheek.

"Tish..." Gomez warned teasingly, kissing the palm of her hand. "You know what that name does..."

"Oui, mon ami," she whispered, smiling as their lips brushed each other's. Gomez enveloped his wife into his strong embrace, not breaking their kiss. After they finally broke off, he caressed her cheek soothingly.

There was a loud knock on their bedroom door, followed by several fits of laughter that took off down the hall. "Those little imps," Gomez chuckled turning back to his bride.

"We'll be getting another one soon," Morticia reminded him, placing a hand on her slightly swollen stomach.

"Cara," Gomez beamed, placing a hand on top of hers. He was about to kiss her again when an explosion came from downstairs, shaking the house a bit.

"We should probably get up," Morticia said, gently pushing Gomez off of her. "We don't want the children to blow up the house."

"Or Fester," Gomez agreed, climbing out of bed. "Although that would be an interesting sight."

"Yes, darling," Morticia concurred, climbing off her side as well. "But then where would we live?"

"Good point, my pet," Gomez sighed, kissing her palm as she walked by.

Morticia suddenly stopped, putting a hand on her vanity while her other one went to her forehead. "Querida," Gomez called, rushing to her side. "Are you alright?"

"Just a bit of morning sickness," Morticia sighed, waiting for the wave to pass. Gomez had put his arm around her waist to help steady her, and she smiled appreciatively at him.

"I thought we were past this stage," he whispered, pulling her close to him.

"Every pregnancy is different," Morticia replied as Gomez brushed her abdomen, then started to kiss her neck. "Later, darling," she reminded him, her hand going to his neck as she gently pet it. "We must see to the children now; we'll worry about us later."

Gomez pulled back. "You're right," he breathed, pulling out her vanity chair so that she could sit down. "I'll get your dress, Cara Bella."

"Make sure it's a maternity one," Morticia said.

Gomez poked his head out of their closet. "How can I tell?"

"They're longer than my regular dresses; the bottom of the dress is touching the floor."

Gomez went back into the closet and brought out her black dress. "This it?"

Morticia nodded, slowly standing up so that she didn't start her morning sickness. "Thank you, darling," she purred, taking the dress from him and going into the bathroom.

"Need some help, Tish," Gomez asked through the door.

"Not yet," Morticia replied coyly. "I'm not that far along; besides if you come in here, we won't be going downstairs for hours."

"True, Querida," Gomez replied, his voice a bit faint. Morticia knew he had stepped away from the door to get himself ready for the day.