Chapter Text
Weems regarded herself as a patient woman.
She had to be one, considering she had run a school full of hormonal teens. Supernaturally powered hormonal teens.
But despite the resurrection and working as Wednesday's spirit guide- which in itself required never before seen levels of patience given Wednesday's penchant for disregarding safety- Weems found herself finally drawing short on her incredible well of patience. It was running dry, not because she had to train Wednesday how to use her gifts, and not because of Wednesday constantly endangering herself, but because of something so utterly mundane and trivial, that Weems almost couldn't believe Wednesday Addams could go through such a thing.
Wednesday had always touted herself above such things, ignoring them in favor of pain or the latest murder mystery. She hadn't spared a single glance at Tyler the boy she had once kissed, or a thought for Xavier the boy who had been so arrogant in his claim over Wednesday's heart. In fact, Weems had heard Wednesday decry the stupidity and vapidity of love so many times that Weems simply took it as fact that Wednesday would never be in love, or could feel love.
Until that is, Weems was forced to spend time in close proximity to Wednesday and her roommate Enid.
As a spirit guide, that meant she had to hang around Wednesday, more or less at her beck and call until the lessons were learned. She couldn't always go as she pleased, meaning she was more often than not stuck enduring the horrifically yearny quality nature of Enid's and Wednesday's relationship.
Enid was entirely too obvious. The love sick expressions she sent Wednesday's way were so blatant that Weems was sure she could see them from outer space if she decided to go one day. Whenever Wednesday would look away, or not pay attention to Enid, Enid would softly exhale to herself, such a soft expression on her face as her eyes took in the slope of Wednesday's shoulders, the side profile of her face, the flicker of her fingers on paper.
Even when Enid did look at Wednesday, though she tried to temper her looks, there was no mistaking the way her body seemed to unconsciously lean in closer to her when they would talk. Wednesday did not threaten Enid with bodily harm for being in her personal space- a personal space so invaded that Enid's clothed arm sometimes touched Wednesday's own- though Weems had seen her do it to countless others.
Even when Enid sat with the wolf pack at lunch, her neck would crane, eyes hopefully seeking out Wednesday and if she would join for lunch, only to be disappointed when each time Wednesday would forsake food for something else she was pursuing. Enid even outright tried inviting Wednesday to events but Wednesday always turned her down and Enid was left dragging her feet back to the wolf pack, the exuberance she had once felt about being accepted by then now dampened when all she had was them to entertain her.
And then there was the matter of the black nail polish and leggings that were clearly inspired by Wednesday's love of the color. And painting the color onto the ring fingernail was basically like declaring Enid was married to Wednesday. The closest Enid could get away with letting Wednesday claim ownership over her without Wednesday knowing.
Not to mention Enid's antagonistic behavior towards Wednesday's stalker, Agnes. Whenever the red haired girl showed up, Enid's hackles would raise and she couldn't hold back from sniping at Agnes who only found this amusing. It was as if Enid felt she was in a competition with Agnes.
Weems once had the misfortune of being in the room waiting on Wednesday to come back from class when Agnes had shown up, to deliver something to Wednesday in regards to their latest mystery and Enid had come in a few seconds later.
“What are you doing here, creep,” Enid spat out, and it was almost as if her colorful hair was bristling.
“Helping Wednesday with something,” Agnes responded with. She leaned her hands on Wednesday's desk and Enid's spine stiffened up. She marched over and bared her teeth.
“Take your hands off of her desk.”
Agnes furrowed her brows, confused. But she did not budge. “Or what.”
“Or you won't have any hands to remove,” Enid promised.
Agnes raised her brows. She removed her hands and circled around the desk, only to plop herself down onto Wednesday's bed covers. Enid's hands curled up into fists and she seemed furious. Weems smartly stood on the other side of the room. She had no intention of getting in the way of this territory dispute.
“Get. Off. Her. Bed!” Enid made out between gritted teeth.
Agnes twirled a braid. “Why?”
“Wednesday doesn't like her things being touched.”
Agnes rolled her eyes. “You say she doesn't like her things being touched but you've totally touched her stuff. I saw you, while I was invisible, going through her things. You even sniffed her pillow.”
Enid's cheeks turned bright red. Oh god, how much had Agnes seen? Had she left before Enid had curled up under Wednesday's covers for comfort or- “I-It's a wolf thing, okay?!”
Agnes' eyes got wide with revelation. “I was only making that up!” She laughed cruelly. “But it's actually true! What other weird stuff have you done-”
“I'm going to shred you to pieces!” Enid promised, entirely mortified. She lunged at Agnes who turned invisible. Enid was left on top of Wednesday's covers, mussing them up as she scrambled up into a sitting position. “Show yourself!” she snarled.
Agnes materialized a few feet away, sticking out her tongue at Enid who growled, her claws sliding out.
They only stopped when Wednesday arrived to the room, Agnes flouncing up to her, smiling wide. “I got what you wanted.” She lowered her voice to Wednesday's ear. “BTW your roommate is a creep. She was touching all your things.”
Wednesday looked over at Enid, who sported a blush on her cheeks, but she did not say anything moving onto business.
Somehow, Wednesday did not notice any of this. Or if she did, she simply ignored it. She did make her usual attempts to kill or maim Bruno in various methods- which Weems stopped even if Wednesday claimed it was because she wanted to make sure he built up resistance to make him stronger so he could protect Enid better- and she also attempted to poison anyone who dared speak ill of Enid around her. But that could be simply because Wednesday was eager to try out her new poisons on anyone she saw fit. And her keeping tabs on Enid with Thing was simply because of the whole having to save Enid's life thing.
And Weems was almost convinced that Wednesday truly dismissed Enid's feelings like she dismissed everyone elses. That is, until she was subjected to Wednesday's lamenting in the middle of the night.
Wednesday sat typing into her typewriter, and Weems stood behind her back, watching as the plot unfurled.
“-the werewolf looked up at her through the blood covering her face and gave her one of her most unpleasantly brilliant canine smiles. Viper's shriveled-up, noxious heart gave a single beat," Weems read from Wednesday's manuscript with a sincerity and melancholy suitable for a stage reading of a Shakespearean sonnet.
Wednesday stopped typing and glared at Weems from the side of her eye. “Do you mind?”
Weems arched a brow. Did Wednesday actually like Enid back? And she was living vicariously through her self insert instead of actually taking action in real life?
No, surely she couldn't be this dense. She solved murder's for outcasts sake!
“Are you writing this for Enid?” Weems settled on. Perhaps this was Wednesday's way of confessing after pushing Enid to the side to keep her safe.
“No,” Wednesday scowled. She continued to type slowly, still side eyeing Weems to see if she was going to continue reading over her shoulder.
Weems scowled back. Was she wrong in her assumption? Wednesday was a hard person to read, and Weems decided to put this incident to the back of her mind. That was until something else happened that she could not ignore.
Weems, hands held together in mimicry of the prayer emoji, confronted Wednesday. A Wednesday who was bruised and battered and still alive, but very much looking worse for the wear. “Boy,” she could not refrain from using colloquial terms her students often used. “You almost died yourself, to save Enid, and you haven't realized the depth of either your or her feelings?”
“I'm an empty abyss where feelings come to die,” Wednesday replied, though it lacked her usual biting sting given the fact she was barely standing on her feet, exhausted from everything.
Weems didn't have a chance to say anything more, because Enid burst in, nearly trampling Weems' spectral form in her haste. She wrapped her arms around Wednesday, pulling her tight to her, refusing to let her go. Wednesday let her hands hang to the sides, before slowly, one of them climbed up to touch Enid's lower back.
“Let's get you back to the room,” Enid whispered, uncaring that Wednesday got blood and soot on her. Weems scowled, knowing she would be stuck having to accompany them. She dragged her feet to give them as much time and privacy as she could. When she finally got there, she found them on Wednesday's bed, with Enid's body curled protectively around Wednesday's while Wednesday endured the hug with a light blush on her now cleaned up face.
“Next time you need to tell me that you're trying to save me from my impending doom,” Enid said. “The whole time I thought you were mad at me or trying to replace me with Agnes because her powers are cooler.”
“Her powers do not rip people's throats out with their teeth,” Wednesday said.
Weems shook her head. This was the perfect set up for a confession to get them both on the same page and Wednesday was ruining it! She needed to tell Enid how she felt about her. It was clear Wednesday had feelings, but she simply did not register them.
“Tell her you wanted to protect her,” Weems encouraged. Wednesday frowned at Weems.
“I could have helped you,” Enid continued, nuzzling her face into the back of Wednesday's neck.
“I had it handled,” Wednesday said dryly. Though her voice was becoming weaker as sleep tried to take her.
“We could have worked on it together, like old times sake,” Enid said. “Do you not trust me to help you anymore?” For good measure Enid threw her leg over Wednesday's legs as if Wednesday was going to run off somewhere.
“I did not want to take you from your wolf pack,” Wednesday said and Weems threw up her hands. Wednesday was missing every chance to say something sweet to Enid to reassure the wolf who was clearly worried about Wednesday.
“Wednesday, tell her everything is okay now, and that you two can go back to spending time together since she's rescued.”
“I wouldn't have minded,” Enid said, her hands around Wednesday's waist squeezing tighter.
Weems held out her hands in emphasis. “I can't watch this,” she lamented.
“Then don't watch,” Wednesday hissed at her, but it was too loud with Enid here. Instantly she was on high alert.
“Whose watching. Is it Agnes?” Enid sat up, eyes scanning the room.
“Nothing,” Wednesday said. “It's no one.”
Enid's eyes narrowed on Weems but she could not see her. Reluctantly Enid laid back down and went back to holding Wednesday who was already halfway to sleep. They did not talk afterwards and both fell asleep.
Weems rubbed her temples. She couldn't believe this, but was she actually going to spend her afterlife having to try and get Wednesday to realize she had feelings for Enid? Was this her punishment for something in life that she had done wrong?
Weems waited a week after the bed cuddling incident before she decided to confront Wednesday as she was working her novel yet again, a scene that Weems was all too familiar with.
“Wednesday we need to talk.”
Wednesday arched a brow, turning from where she had been writing a scene where Viper was being cuddled by her werewolf friend after saving their life.
“You like Enid,” Weems said, without any preamble.
Wednesday scoffed. “Don't be absurd. Liking things is for those who are prepubescent.”
“Alright,” Weems changed tactics. “You love her then.”
“Love is incapable to those with no hearts.” Wednesday turned back to her novel typing up 'Viper's desiccated heart was full like an overflowing cesspool of the vilest slimiest things as the wolf behind her curled up in it's deceptively sweet human form, it's claws and teeth tenderly entangled into Viper's clothing to keep her safe from any further threats.'
Weems took a bracing breath. “Lust then. You want to-”
Wednesday whipped around so fast that her braids slapped her in her face. Her eyes contained the fury of a thousand black holes. “I do not debase myself with such wanton cravings.”
Weems held up her hands as Wednesday rose up from her chair and slowly and threateningly approached her. “Do not, assume to know anything about me. Enid is barely a friend, and she will be nothing more.” At this Wednesday's voice cracked a bit, as if saddened by the weight of her words. Her brows furrowed, confused by her own voice crack, before she turned back to her novel.
She stared at the page, before ripping it out and tossing it. She began typing anew, entirely erasing Viper's tender scene with the wolf.
Weems exhaled through her nose. This, was going to be infuriating. She was going to die a second time from the sheer exhaustion Wednesday put her through by being this thick.
It seemed outright attempts would not work. Weems was going to have to be sneaky with this. A smile stretched her lips when she understood how she could make this work. She would give Wednesday a bit of time before she tried, however, enough to let her cool down.
Two weeks later, after Weems was forced to endure Enid enticing Wednesday into watching movies with her up all night so they could sit under a blanket together, she approached Wednesday.
“Wednesday,” Weems said, keeping her smile small to herself. “I have found a way to make your psychic abilities more...conducive.”
Wednesday's fingers stalled on the knife she was polishing. “And what do you propose?”
“Sometimes,” she said slowly, clearing her throat to announce this with gravitas, “it helps if you have a conduit.”
Wednesday arched a brow, wordlessly encouraging Weems to continue on. “Another body, to help power you. The extra energy can grant you bigger and grander visions for longer.”
Wednesday set aside her knife and rummaged behind her bed to pull out a shovel.
“What are you doing?” Weems asked, knowing already she would not like the answer.
“Going to the graveyard to unearth some bodies.”
“You need a live body for this,” Weems said, appalled at Wednesday's eagerness.
“So, I don't get to dig up dead bodies.”
“No!” Weems cried out. “Why would you want to-?” She resigned herself and shook her head. This was an Addams she was talking about. Talking Wednesday out of digging up dead bodies was a moot point. “You need a live body, someone with energy.”
“Will using them kill them?”
“No,” Weems lied. There was no way that using someone else would even make Wednesday's visions stronger anyways. “But you need someone with excess energy. That way you won't drain them so easily. Someone, strong. Like Enid.”
“Enid,” Wednesday echoed dryly.
“She's a werewolf, and she has so much energy. Besides, she wouldn't turn you down.”
“It's because she wouldn't turn me down that I don't want to abuse that privilege.”
Why was now the time for Wednesday to develop a conscience?
“Well,” Weems said, trying another angle. “Enid would be mad if you asked anyone else to do it.”
“Why would she be?”
Because she's in love with you! Weems screamed internally, but outwardly kept cool. “You avoided her all this time to protect her. Now that the threat is gone, she'll be angry to have you ignoring her again. Spend some time with her.”
Wednesday grunted noncommittally, and Weems was worried she'd have to try something more drastic to convince Wednesday. She didn't have to. That evening when Enid came back to the room, Wednesday simply strode up to her.
“Enid, I need to hold your hand,” Wednesday declared out of nowhere.
Enid's eyes went comically wide and she dropped her phone to her bed covers. “Huh?!”
“It's to experiment with my psychic abilities,” she said, holding out her hand, palm up.
“Um, sure? Okay?” Enid said, getting up and sliding her hand into Wednesday's. “This won't hurt, will it?”
Wednesday blinked. She hadn't thought to ask Weems. She glanced over her shoulder where Weems stood. Weems shook her head no. Wednesday turned back to Enid. “It won't.”
Enid let out a relieved sigh, hands clammy from nerves. She tangled her fingers in with Wednesday's and they stood there, holding hands. Enid could feel the creeping heat of a blush trailing up her neck to her face.
They were just...standing, holding hands.
Enid tried to control her feelings but she was beginning to spaz out, overwhelmed by Wednesday's simple touch. Her palm was cool on Enid's overly warm skin. Wednesday had her eyes closed, concentrating on something, but she opened them a few seconds later as Enid tried to busy herself with something else.
“Your claws are stabbing my hand,” Wednesday said, as she looked down at where skin had been shredded and was dripping bright blood down onto the floor.
“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!” Enid yelped and pulled her hand away. She scurried around the room, looking for bandages while Wednesday observed the bright color pooling between her knuckles.
Weems watched the scene with mild concern. Why hadn't hand holding- the simplest of things- worked?
Were Enid and Wednesday such disasters that they couldn't even do this?
Enid tried to wrap up Wednesday's wound and Wednesday looked like she wanted to keep the wounds openly bleeding, if not for Enid begging to rectify the mistake she had made.
The next day found Weems trying to stir up another solution when Wednesday had said hand holding had yielded no results except wounds that she absently found her fingers tracing over.
“Perhaps, more touch is required?” Weems suggested.
“Such as?” Wednesday asked suspiciously.
“Maybe the two of you, instead of standing inertly, need to make movement.”
“Movement,” Wednesday said flatly. “What are you insinuating.”
“What are you, insinuating?” Weems countered, noticing the light gray flush to Wednesday's cheeks.
Wednesday pursed her lips stubbornly refusing to answer and Weems continued. “Maybe dancing together, would help? It gives movement and your hands are held together to make the visions stronger.”
“I sense a scheme,” Wednesday said, “though I cannot fathom what you are trying to prove or disprove.”
“No scheme,” Weems said. “I'm just interested in seeing what else we can do to aid your visions now that Goody's book is gone.”
Wednesday didn't say anything, glaring at Weems.
“We should practice, of course, before you dance with Enid.”
“And what is wrong with my dancing?”
Everything, Weems wanted to say but did not. “You require cohesion in the dance so your and Enid's energies line up.” Weems was aware a lot of what she was saying sounded made up. It was. But she needed Wednesday to simply do it.
“We'll do a practice dance lesson,” Weems said, clasping her hands together, “after one of your classes. Then you can dance with Enid and enhance your visions.”
Wednesday's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I am keeping an eye on you.” But Wednesday went through with it, even with her raised suspicion. She clasped Weems' ghostly hands in hers and let the taller woman lead her through a classical waltz. Wednesday was stiff, clearly unhappy to be doing this, but Weems insisted they continue.
It wasn't until Wednesday was ripped from Weems' hold that they noticed Enid had arrived in the room. “Agnes isn't showing you the correct way to dance,” Enid barely held back from snarling, glaring daggers at where Weems stood.
“Agne-” Wednesday didn't get to finish as Enid whirled Wednesday around and took her for a spin. She danced like she had a point to make, bringing Wednesday's body close to hers, twirling her around, dipping her low to the ground before pulling her back up. It was all Wednesday could do to hold on, like she was stuck on a ride that went haywire.
Weems arched a brow. She hadn't planned for this, but it would work to her advantage. Maybe now Wednesday could see that Enid was not only territorial over her but also liked her. Weems even went over to the gramophone and switched the song to something more romantic.
“You can ask me for help, you don't have to rely on Agnes,” Enid pouted as they slowed down their moves.
“Tell her you were practicing for her,” Weems cupped her hands and shouted over the music at Wednesday.
Wednesday naturally, did not register Weems' words. “Agnes has proven to be useful with her skills.”
Weems wanted to face palm. That was the wrong thing to say at the wrong time!
Enid scowled. “She's not as good of a dancer as me.”
“Tell Enid she's an amazing dancer,” Weems encouraged.
Wednesday frowned at Weems over her shoulder. As if being contrarian, she instead said, “Dancing talent is irrelevant to a person's usefulness.”
Weems groaned and pinched the top of her nose. She wanted to shake Wednesday by her shoulders to rattle her brain and unscramble it.
Enid looked hurt but she stuck up her chin. “I think it's nice to be able to dance with someone.”
“I'd rather drive nails into the soles of my feet,” Wednesday retorted.
The enthusiasm of their dance slowed down, Enid and Wednesday silent now. As the dance came to a close, Wednesday's neck snapped back, eyes going wide as she had a vision. Weems did not expect the dance to actually work or do anything. Enid held Wednesday up in her arms as she went limp, face contorting in worry. “Wednesday?”she breathed out.
She gently lowered Wednesday to the floor, and when Wednesday came to, she stared at Enid in a mix of confusion, horror, and something else, almost like embarrassment.
“Wednesday, are you okay?” Enid asked and panicked, Wednesday shoved Enid aside and rose to her feet to run out of the room.
Oh, what had Wednesday seen? Weems went after her, following the smaller girl's erratic path until her feet took her to her comfort place- the graveyard crypt. There Wednesday huddled down into a tiny ball, hands over her head.
Had she seen another vision of Enid dying? But it hadn't tortured her so much last time. Then what could it be this time?
“Wednesday?” Weems asked gently, trying not to startle the girl. “What did you see?”
“Nothing,” she said too hastily. And were the tips of her ears turning gray with blush?
...Interesting.
“I'm your spirit guide. It's my job to help you figure out what your visions mean.”
“It was nothing,” Wednesday reasserted.
“It wasn't nothing if you ran like this. Tell me, what did you see?” But Wednesday did not answer Weems, only hunkering down further into a ball. When midnight came and went, only then did Wednesday return back to the room, creeping silently inside, hoping to avoid waking Enid who was sleeping on the bed, as if she had fallen asleep on the covers waiting for Wednesday to return.
This wouldn't do. Weems accidentally leaned against a stack of books on Wednesday's desk. They fell with a racket to the floor. Wednesday glared at Weems, midway to fetching her pjs to change into. Weems gave an innocent expression as Enid startled awake with a loud snort.
She rubbed her eyes as Wednesday hurriedly slinked back to the door, hoping the dark of the room would hide her. It would not from a wolf's eyesight.
Enid scrambled off of the bed, grabbing Wednesday by her wrist before she could open the door, whirling her around.
“I won't have you ignoring me again! Wednesday you need to tell me what you saw in the vision. I can protect myself,” Enid said. “I can help you solve whatever issue came up. Don't push me away again!”
Wednesday looked distinctly out of sorts as Enid pressed her up against the wall. Cornered, like an animal. Her eyes trailed down to Enid's lips and then flickered back up to her eyes. She swallowed thickly. “The vision wasn't about you.”
“Who else would it be about?” Enid hummed, placing one hand next to Wednesday's head. “Don't your visions work that you touch the person and have a vision about them?”
“How do you know that?”
“I pay attention,” Enid said, a touch sheepish as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ears. “Because I want to help.”
“It's nothing,” Wednesday said. She averted her eyes and didn't continue. Enid had no choice but to sigh and move back reluctantly. She knew better than to push Wednesday for answers before she was ready to share.
They went on to change for bed, Wednesday going into the bathroom, signaling for Thing to follow her. Weems waited until they were inside before she let her ghostly head pop through the wall out of sight behind the shower curtains to eavesdrop.
Wednesday glanced down at Thing, her trusted confidant, as the water in the sink ran to obscure their voices. “Thing, we have to make sure Enid isn't cursed this semester.”
He raised a thumb in question.
“Because I had a vision of her...of her kissing me,” Wednesday said, the words difficult to get out of her throat. She felt a gray blush settle on her cheeks. “And only a curse could be the cause of this.”
Weems yanked her head out. So Enid was going to kiss Wednesday! Good for her!
But her elation was subdued when she realized Wednesday thought the only reason Enid was doing it was because someone else was controlling her.
Weems sighed. It seemed her work would be cut out for her.
Thing signed to Wednesday and she shook her head. “Don't be obtuse. She can't possibly like me.” Then she went to aggressively brush her teeth, as if trying to clean away the memory of a cursed Enid kissing her.
Wednesday was insistent on avoiding Enid to the best of her abilities, though this time the wolf was as insistent on finding Wednesday and not allowing her to get away with it.
Now it was only time for Weems to enact her part.
Class was changing periods and students were heading along to their next destination. Wednesday was making her way down the flight of stairs, Enid a few steps ahead of her, babbling on about the latest k-pop songs from some movie about demon hunting k-pop stars, when Weems materialized, waiting for the right moment.
If it all went well, then there would be a manufactured romantic moment with Enid saving Wednesday in her arms, and maybe this was how the kiss scene had happened? Weems was kind of working in the dark.
Knowing this was highly unorthodox, she shoved Wednesday off of the top of the stairs. Wednesday's arms windmilled as she attempted to stop herself from falling. As if having a sixth sense for Wednesday Enid turned and hands outstretched, reached out to save Wednesday.
Only she didn't get to.
An invisible barrier propped up Wednesday, revealing itself to be Agnes as she helped Wednesday back to steady ground. Enid growled so low it raised the hairs on Weems' spirit form but Agnes seemed not the least bit perturbed.
“A bit slow there. Age getting to you?” she taunted as she set Wednesday back.
“You're only three years younger than me!” Enid shot back, claws coming out.
“And you're beefing with a child. Sad,” Agnes said, pulling a mocking expression, and disappeared back into nothing to avoid the claws swiping through the air.
“I swear!” Enid turned to Wednesday, huffing and puffing. “She's still following you around. That's not okay.”
“She's loyal to me,” Wednesday said, dusting herself off from her near fall, and nonpertrubed.
“I'm loyal too!” Enid said, offended.
“And it seems loyalty is in short supply, these days,” Wednesday said pointedly, looking over at Weems who didn't even try to hide what she had done. She smiled down at Wednesday.
“I could say the same about you. You refuse to tell me your visions. I'm starting to think you don't trust me Wednesday. But perhaps the answer might best be wrested from Enid's mouth,” Weems said.
At the mention of Enid's mouth, Weems knew Wednesday was thinking back to her vision. She began to turn gray in the face. She shot Weems a nasty look and rushed down the stairs.
“Wednesday, slow down! You almost fell once,” Enid raced after her.
Once classes let out for the day, Wednesday headed out to the library, Thing pattering after her.
“What curse could cause such a thing to happen?” Wednesday mussed to herself, hand on her chin as Thing perused the books on the lower shelves. “Witch, or maybe a byproduct of wolf nature?” She plucked a few books out and sat down on some cushions in the back, intent on spending a lot of time here.
She even gave Weems some books to look over too. “If you're going to hover over me, you might as well be useful about it.”
“If you told me what vision you saw, I could have a better idea of what to look through,” Weems said, but Wednesday remained tight lipped.
The sky outside the windows was starting to turn dim when Enid came back from her club activities and found Wednesday in the back. She wasn't going to allow Wednesday to run from her this time, no matter what this new vision could have been about.
“Curses?” she arched a brow when she saw the book open on Wednesday's lap. She plopped down next to her on the couch. “Are you trying to curse someone?”
“Many deserve a curse thrown their way,” Wednesday said, “but no. I am trying to reverse a curse.”
“What kind? Whose been cursed?” Enid asked, worried. Was that what the vision had been about?
“I don't know yet,” Wednesday said. She lifted up her hand to turn the page and Weems knew this was her chance. She stepped forward from where she had been studying books behind the couch, snatched Wednesday's wrist, and dropped it onto Enid's thigh.
Both girls stiffened up. Wednesday stared hard at her book, as if it had betrayed her, while Enid's cheeks turned a light pink hue and she immediately looked away. As if to look down at Wednesday's hand on her upper thigh would cause either of them to combust.
“I was trying to reach for a book,” Wednesday made out of a tight throat. The lie was transparent, considering there was no book on Enid's side of the couch.
“Mm, that's okay. Stuff happens,” Enid said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Wednesday tried to retreat her hand, but Weems placed her hand on the back of Wednesday's and held it down. Wednesday's eyes flared in panic. She couldn't move it and she couldn't fight off Weems without it drawing attention to her. Wednesday instead glared up at Weems who smiled down at her.
Dark eyes promised bloody murder, Wednesday's lips twitching with the need to ask what was going on. “Thing,” she said instead, “fetch the ax. I think my arm has gone rogue and you know what to do with diseased limbs.”
Weems' smile dropped. Wednesday couldn't be seriously considering chopping off her own arm if Weems didn't let go?
Thing scrambled off to fetch such a weapon.
Enid, somehow missed this entire exchange, because nervously, she was building up the courage to place her own hand on Wednesday's thigh. Wednesday's struggles with Weems immediately vacated her mind as her back went ramrod straight.
Enid's hand was warm.
Very warm. Burning through her stocking.
“Um- it's, it's okay if you want t-to touch me,” Enid mumbled out shyly, cheeks burning red. “I w-wanna touch you too.” Her voice drifted off into a squeak and she clamped her mouth shut.
Wednesday felt like her mouth was dry. “Are- are you cursed already, Enid?” she murmured to herself. Both of them were ardently avoiding eye contact with each other.
Weems let go of Wednesday's hand when Thing came back, dropping an ax with a heavy thud onto the floor. Wednesday did not immediately snatch back her hand like Weems expected her to. Instead, she seemed momentarily confused as to why Thing had brought an ax.
When he tapped on the ground, Wednesday removed her hand and stiffly rose up. “I must go.” She grabbed his ax and walked off, hissing down at him, “you saw nothing.” Weems rushed after to make sure she didn't follow through on her earlier plans.
“Wednesday, you need both hands,” Weems hissed at her, racing in her heels.
“I can grow new ones,” Wednesday said.
“Wednesday, no-”
Enid stared as Wednesday left, a dopey smile crawling it's way up her lips.
By some unholy miracle, Weems was able to convince Wednesday to drop the ax though she scowled at Weems the entire rest of the day. “What was the reason for all that?”
“Well, it simply seems to me as if touching Enid triggered your previous reason, I figured that it might trigger a new one that would grant you greater clarity.”
Wednesday continued to pound away at her typewriter but the way her typing slowed a bit clued Weems in that she was listening.
“The vision you saw might have been incomplete. You'll need to touch Enid to gain better insight to stop this 'curse' of sorts.”
“I've tried hand holding with her, before, and the only method that seemed to work was dancing,” Wednesday said as her fingers nimbly described a scene where Viper and her wolf were sat crammed together on the couch, thighs pressed against each other as the wolf begged Viper to touch it's canines.
Weems arched a knowing brow at the passage but did not read it out loud this time.
“Then that makes me believe that simple hand contact is not enough. You'll need more of your body pressed against hers.”
The typewriter screeched to a halt. Wednesday's shoulders tensed up.
“Enid will be more than glad to help. She already gave you permission to touch her. Now it's just a matter of finding out how to make such a situation occur.”
“And if I don't want to go through with it,” Wednesday said tersely.
“Since when do you turn down a challenge.”
Wednesday whipped her head around to glare at Weems. “A challenge?”
“Yes. Figuring out how to solve this curse before Enid finds out she's cursed.”
Weems could see the gears turning in Wednesday's head. Slowly the girl turned back to her typewriter. Her hands hovered over the keys but she did not press down on them. Next to her Thing thumped on the wood of her desk.
“Yes, I suppose that method might work,” Wednesday murmured to herself, “though Enid will have to wear black and white if we're to be pressed up against each other.”
Weems did not like the sound of this. She stared down at Thing disapprovingly. She had picked up a bit of his sign language since she was spending so much time around Wednesday. “I don't think scaring Enid in a haunted house is the best course of action. I think inviting her to dinner might be.”
Wednesday narrowed her eyes at Weems. “How will that achieve driving Enid into my arms?”
Weems smiled widely. “Oh, just leave this up to me. I'll have her falling into you in no time.”
Weems gave explicit instructions for Wednesday to follow her lead, though she could tell it was gnawing at Wednesday already to have to follow someone elses plans. Weems filled Enid's side of the room with flowers and a nice black dress with a note in Wednesday's hand writing that said they should meet for dinner at a high end restaurant that Thing chauffeured Enid to after classes let out.
Wednesday stood in front of the restaurant wearing a black and white suit, holding out her arm for Enid to take.
“You look like a thousand dying stars tonight, Enid,” Wednesday said in her usual deadpan manner, but it made Enid blush fiercely.
“And you look cute,” Enid responded with. Wednesday frowned.
“And here I was trying to go for terrifying.”
Without missing a beat, Enid said, “then you're the most terrifying date I've ever known.”
That made Wednesday's lip corner flicker up in approval, though her brows furrowed. “Date?”
“It's entirely not a date,” Weems lied smoothly, urging Wednesday to get inside the restaurant already. If Wednesday suspected this was a date, there was a good chance she wouldn't go through with it. Wednesday walked in with Enid. The two of them sat down in a booth at the back, and Weems bent down to Wednesday's level.
“Now, merely follow what I tell you to do or say, and you'll have the answers you need,” Weems said. Wednesday grumbled under her breath but relented. She really cared about uncursing Enid if she was willing to engage in social pleasantries.
Wednesday made small talk at Weems behest, reaching out as instructed to hold Enid's hand in her own, stroking a thumb over her knuckles. Enid had to hide her grin behind a sip of her water. She was practically bouncing in her seat.
Was Wednesday going to confess to liking her?
Enid felt a pinch on the back of her neck, but she chalked it up to some bug. She checked the back of her neck discreetly for anything and found nothing.
Then her knife slid off of her plate and onto the floor. She frowned, confused.
And then her glass of water fell over, upending water into her lap. She gasped in shock at the cold liquid running down her legs. She grabbed a napkin to wipe at the water but there was too much of it; she had to excuse herself to the bathroom.
Weems was furious. It seemed Agnes was afoot, and clearly trying to ruin the date and all the hard work Weems had put into planning this!
“Stay here,” Weems hissed at Wednesday and rushed after Enid. She found Enid trying to dry her clothes in the bathroom. Agnes reappeared next to her.
“Are you on a date with Wednesday?” Agnes taunted.
“What are you doing here, you little creep.”
“I was walking by and I saw you two through the window.”
“You're a liar. We're sitting all the way in the back,” Enid said, advancing on Agnes.
“Maybe I just want to make you seem uncool in front of Wednesday so she'll stop caring so much about you. All she has me do lately is run around looking for ways to save you. Again,” she said flatly.
“I knew she was worried about me because of her vision,” Enid muttered. Then the rest of Agnes' words registered to her.
“You are not ruining this date, and you are not taking Wednesday from me!” Enid cried out, grabbing Agnes by the shoulders and slamming her into the wall. Agnes kicked Enid in the shin, making Enid wince in pain and loosen her grip. Agnes slipped under her arms and made kissy faces at Enid who gasped in horror, assuming that Agnes was going to go and try to kiss Wednesday.
Agnes turned invisible and Enid raced towards Wednesday as if her life depended on it, trampling over Weems' ghostly toes in the meantime. Weems held back her hiss of pain.
Enid rushed over to Wednesday's table, grabbing her up by one arm. “We are leaving. Now.”
“Dining and dashing?” Wednesday said, “I did not think you capable of that, Sinclair.” She allowed Enid to drag her out of the restaurant. But when they stepped foot outside, Wednesday was suddenly yanked in the opposite direction by something invisible.
“Oh no you don't,” Enid snarled, yanking Wednesday towards her. Wednesday became caught in a tug of war, the seams of her outfit starting to rip.
“When I dreamed of being torn about, I was hoping to be drawn and quartered by horses, not two students,” she grumbled. She slipped down through the blazer, leaving the two of them with the fabric. It ripped in two with a loud noise.
Enid dropped it when she realized that it was empty.
“Agnes,” Wednesday said sharply. “I did not request your mischief. Why are you here?”
Weems crossed her arms over her chest in agreement, even if no one but Wednesday could see her.
“No, you didn't,” Agnes confirmed, only revealing her head and tilting it creepily as she spoke. “But Enid is slowing you down. You haven't hunted down a serial killer in ages and the past few weeks you've been distracted. You haven't stabbed anyone or been rude to me!”
“I've been busy,” Wednesday said evasively.
“Busy with flirting with Enid!” Agnes accused. “Rather than doing a stake out or setting traps.”
“Flirting?” Wednesday echoed, brow furrowed. Weems stepped on her foot to distract her from questioning any further and Wednesday shot her a nasty glare.
“Ugh, can you stop butting into our relationship?” Enid said, before turning to Wednesday. “Tell Agnes she needs to back off because I'm not sharing my girlfriend with her.”
“Girlfriend?” Wednesday echoed and Weems stepped on Wednesday's other foot to distract her from questioning this. Wednesday looked close to stabbing Weems now.
Agnes scowled. “You two are not official.”
“We would have been, if you hadn't interrupted us.”
Nothing was going to get resolved this way, so Weems did the only thing she could think of to fix this.
She shoved Wednesday under her armpit like she was a football and ran. Wednesday hissed and scratched to free herself but Weems ran as if she was a quarterback trying to get to the other side of the field.
“Put me down!” Wednesday ordered.
“Whose doing that!” Enid cried out.
“I'll save you Wednesday,” Agnes said.
Enid and Agnes raced after her, each trying to trip or shove the other out of the way. But Weems had her spirit guide/ghost abilities and she managed to materialize all the way to the top of a building. She held Wednesday up like she was Simba from the lion king being presented to everyone below her.
“Weems, you are fired from your spirit guide role,” Wednesday said, crossing her arms when she realized she could not free herself without falling down. “If you are going to try and kill me, at least pick a higher building so the splatter arches beautifully.”
“I'm not trying to kill you, though you've greatly tempted me,” she said. “I'm trying to help.”
“Help who?”
“Enid.”
“And how is this helping?”
Weems didn't have an answer to that, but something told her she needed to do this. She felt certain.
Agnes rushed inside the building to take the stairs up, while Enid stared up in horrified concern at Wednesday. She had no idea what was causing Wednesday to be suspended up high in the air, but it looked like she would fall any second. Calling on every last shred of her wolf inside her, she let her claws grow.
She had to get to Wednesday before Agnes. Enid launched herself at the brick wall and scrambled up it's side. When she got close enough, she jumped up at Wednesday, grabbing her by her waist and from Weems' hold. Enid twisted in midair as she dropped back down, managing to land on her legs while holding Wednesday in a bridal carry.
Once safely on the ground, Enid unable to believe she truly had done that, she set Wednesday to her feet.
“This seems familiar,” Wednesday muttered to herself. When she realized what was going to happen, it was too late.
“Wednesday, I accept your feelings,” Enid said in a rush, before Agnes could interrupt them. She leaned in and kissed Wednesday, slipping her hand up the back of Wednesday's neck. Wednesday's eyes went wide open at the gentle kiss, Enid's lip tasting faintly of bubblegum chapstick. A gray blush swept up Wednesday's neck to her face and when Enid pulled away she had a dopey grin on her face. She looked very much like she wanted to lean in and kiss Wednesday another time.
“Hey! Stop corrupting Wednesday and making her soft and romantic,” Agnes made a disgusted face as she screamed down at Enid from the roof.
“Make me,” Enid snarled at her.
While Enid and Agnes continued to argue, Wednesday held her fingers up to her lips, eyes wide with epiphany.
Weems, watched with anticipation and eagerness now that the truth had finally dawned on Wednesday that she liked Enid.
“Enid kissed me.” Wednesday lowered her hand slowly from her kissed lips. “Because I'm the one who accidentally cursed Enid,” she concluded in horror.
Weems slapped a hand to her face and groaned lowly.
“I give up,” she said.