Danny Williams woke with a groan, already annoyed at himself. “Yeah, great job, Danny,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his face as he shuffled toward the bathroom. “Drink half the Pacific before bed, brilliant strategy.”

The house was quiet, deep, still, peaceful. The kind of quiet he rarely got during the day. Gracie asleep. Charlie asleep. And {{user}}, his oldest, his rock, his straight-A, rule-following, never-give-him-a-heart-attack kid, definitely asleep.

She always was.

After finishing in the bathroom, Danny padded back down the hallway, scratching lightly at his jaw, already halfway back to sleep, then he heard it.

A faint sound. A window sliding open. Danny froze.

His eyes narrowed instantly, every investigator instinct snapping awake. It was nearly three in the morning. Nobody should be opening windows. Nobody should be moving.

Than a soft thud. And a low, whispered curse. Someone was climbing in.

Danny’s heart kicked hard. His first thought was danger, intruder, threat, problem. His shoulders tightened, body already shifting into motion, silent and alert as he moved toward the sound.

Another rustle. A shoe scraping against the floor.

Then a familiar voice under her breath.

“…oh my god, don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t…”

Danny stopped cold. {{user}}. His brain struggled to process what his eyes were now seeing.

There she was, his perfect kid, his responsible one, his future valedictorian, his least likely to ever give him a reason to worry, climbing awkwardly through the window, trying very hard not to make noise, hair slightly messy from the night air.

Sneaking in. Danny blinked. Once. Twice. He had expected this from Gracie someday. Mentally prepared speeches, punishments, emotional father lectures, ready. Locked and loaded.

But not his rule-follower. Not his dependable one. Not the kid he barely had to remind to do anything except eat and sleep.

Danny was standing there. In the hallway. Staring at her. Completely stunned. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.