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“Get up.”
“No.”
“Come on. You just got here. Let’s go do something.”
“Let’s not.”
“Callie,” Danny whined. “Make Anya get up.”
Calliope looked at him over her book. She looked at her sister, face-down on the couch, dangling half off. She looked back at Danny. “No.”
“I don’t see either of you for a year and all you want to do is nap?”
“Yes,” Anya said, muffled into the cushions. She tilted her head and eyed him mischievously. “In fact…”
She moved faster than the human eye could see. Danny laughed as he was grabbed and yanked down on top of her.
“Let me up,” he complained playfully, half-heartedly struggling against her hug. “I’m too old for naps.”
“Nope.” Anya held him tight. “You wanted to hang out. We’re hanging out.”
“This is not what I meant!”
“Too bad. We can go shoot something tomorrow. Nap time.”
Callie made a face at Danny when he looked at her pleadingly. “You know, you used to love napping with us,” she reminded him. “I distinctly remember us flipping the hammock that one time.”
“Wasn’t my fault.” Danny denied. He gave up and flopped his full weight onto Anya. “Also I was eight.”
“And now you’re not.” Anya said.
“And now I’m not.”
She let go of him. “Okay. Get up then.”
Danny didn’t move.
“Come on. Get off me.”
“But I’m so comfortable now…”
Their wrestling started anew, this time so haphazardly they rolled straight off the couch and onto the floor, sprawling out on the carpet. Blindly, Anya reached up and pulled the throw blanket off the couch, tossing it unconcernedly over both of them.
Calliope observed them for a moment. She closed her book and made her way over, wiggling between them. Alana found them hours later, fast asleep.