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Charlie fell asleep with the ghost of a smile tugging at her mouth.
And woke, several hours later, to the slam of the front door and her mother's sharp ssh-ing, and Miles and Bass' only half-quieted laughter. Blinking awake to stare up at the ceiling, aware of Connor stirring beside her, Charlie groaned and tried to drag the blankets higher over her head; Connor though, felt the afghan slipping away and dragged it back down between his feet, nearly exposing her to the chill air as he did so. Hissing, she nudged him with an elbow in retribution, but gave up the fight for the coverlet and instead craned her head up to peer down the hall to the foyer.
"Hey, pipe down! Some of us are trying to sleep."
It was Miles who came into the living room first, but Bass who rolled his eyes and threw his hands up when he got a good look at her, and presumably Connor. "Jesus Chri--Charlotte, please." He made a face and turned to look at Rachel instead of them, scrubbing a hand over his eyes, and Charlie grinned, because Bass only ever called her Charlotte when he was feeling particularly parental. She loved him for that, on occasion.
Miles, for his part, just swept them over with a glance and lifted both brows. "Don't think sleep was the word you were looking for there, kid." And that was just typical Miles; so long as they weren't fucking in front of him, he didn't really care. (Not much, anyway.)
Rachel though, was a moderate. She came in behind Bass, carrying her duffle bag heavy at her side and already in mom-mode. "Charlie, Connor, clothes now, or head upstairs. This is the living room, guys."
Connor, awake enough to play dumb, grinned cheesily up at Rachel and pointed a finger gun her way. "But we were livin', Rachel. Livin' dangerously." He 'fired' at her, making subpar sound effects under his breath.
With his back still turned, Bass made a miserable sound. "He did not get that from me. I'm not responsible for that." He waved his free hand in the vague direction of the couch.
Rachel arched a single critical eyebrow at the younger Monroe.
Connor's sound effects abruptly cut out mid pew-pew.
Charlie breathed a laugh and sat up slowly, taking the afghan with her. "His head's still asleep, give him a bit." She shot her mother a faint smile, a woman's smile. "I think I short-circuited him."
Bass' "Charlotte!" got lost under Miles' choked snort and Rachel's quiet chuckle.
"Alright, alright, enough with the brothel humor." Miles jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. "Go get your clothes off the floor and get upstairs; make it down quick enough, we've got late dinner."
Connor just managed to get, "but I already had desse--" out before Charlie slammed an elbow back into his ribs and he wheezed out a pained laugh.
Just for that, Charlie took the afghan with her when she got up and left Connor scrambling to shield his more intimate parts with one of the couch pillows as she strode past her uncles and out of the living room with a wolfish smile.