April eventually sat next to Morticia on one of nearby graveyard benches, still catching her breath from dancing. The two women sat in companionable silence for a moment. Neither commented when April's head came to rest on Morticia's shoulder, nor when Morticia gently started stroking the auburn locks. Eventually, Morticia spoke.

"You know, I think Bren has the makings of a fine dancer." April chuckled softly at the hummed statement.

"They are certainly light on their feet, I suppose."

"Passionate, as well."

"Mhm. It's almost overwhelming in a nice way sometimes."

"Oh? I do suppose they love fiercely. It runs in the family, you know." Morticia mused. "Gomez is positively derranged at times. It's one of my favorite things about him. Though, passionate people are also prone to melancholy. Gomez is frightfully susceptible to it, you know." Her lithe, pale hand pausing in it's strokes as April pulled her head back slightly to look up at her.

"Melancholy? You mean like depression?" April clarified, concern edging into her tone.

"What an odd term for it. You young ones do love a good turn of phrase. I suppose, yes. They seem to be quite similar." Morticia allowed. "He becomes absolutely inconsolable at time. Loses his vigor, he becomes shackled to sanity and civility...it's horridly mundane, really." She confirmed sadly, watching her husband as he seemed to be attempting to teach the others some odd dance. "I do hope our dear Bren isn't as susceptible." There was a brief pause before the woman continued with a soft smile. "Well, anyhow, it is a lovely night. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. The only thing that could possibly make this better is if there was a good storm."

As April began to ask more, she was stopped by a raindrop landing with a gentle but firm "plat!" on the tip of her nose, looking up as another tapped upon her cheek to see dark clouds rolling over the sky as thunder sounded lowly in the distance.

"Marvelous!" Gomez's excited crowing reached them from the fireside. "I was just thinking we needed a good storm! Querida! Isn't it just perfect!"

"Oui, Mon Cher. Un belle tempête." She readily agreed, only for the man to immediately abandon the group as he stalked over with a rapturous grin.

"Tish, you know what it does to me when you speak French!"

"Oui." Morticia agreed with a soft, bemused smile as he knelt in front of her and captured her hand to start baptizing it in kisses.

April shook her head with a soft smile as she stood to let the love birds enjoy themselves. As she approached the others, the rain steadily grew.

"Alright, children!" Fester hollered, looking giddy "Your activities are ready inside!"

"...Activities? Everything until how hasn't been activities?" Kazarious questioned as he held Pugsley's now-shed hoodie over his head in a bid to keep his hair dry.

"Of course not. That was just to entertain you kids while we set things up." Fester insisted merrily. "Come along, now! Much to do!"

April watched as their unlikely little collection began following Fester towards the house, hanging back for a moment to herself.

Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back slightly to enjoy the rain. The insistent tapping upon her skin was grounding. The scent of petrichor soothing the slight stress that had begun to build throughout the evening from her nerves. Nearby the gentle noise of rainfall was highlighted by the slightly harsher plat of drops landing on gravestones. The fire hissing and spitting softly nearby like a snake might.

By the time she opened her eyes, she was soaked through, but smiling. Only to stare for a moment, confused, at the sight before her.

"Bren? Why aren't you inside? You're soaked!" She fretted, only for them to laugh a bit.

"You say that like you aren't, Red." They teased. "I'm out here because I chose to be. Anyways, you about ready to head in? Gomez and Morticia are admittedly starting to get a bit hot and heavy over there even for my taste and I read some absolute filth online."

"You could've turned around to avoid seeing it." She pointed out with a chuckle, following as they led the way to the front door.

"Nah. Then I'd have missed the rest of the view."

Before she could ask what view, Bren had gotten them inside and caught towels thrown at them.

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"What took you two so long!" Jace chided "Bren you look like a drowned cat."

"Shocked you would know, considering I doubt you've ever seen a wet-" they stopped themselves, noticing Wednesday nearby. "Never mind!"

"The fuck? You've got a mouth like a sailor what do you mean never mi-"

"PG 13, Jace. PG 13 in the house." Bren insisted, nodding to Wednesday as he handed April one of the towels to dry off. "There are impressionable young ears listening."

"As if I would allow you to influence me, Bren." Wednesday scoffed as April watched with a smile.

"You know you idolize me, little Lizzie Borden to be. It's okay to admit that I'm your favorite role model." They insisted sweetly.

"I would sooner emulate a rock." Jace spluttered out a laugh at Wednesday's dry remark, obviously quite enjoying it. April saw a wicked grin spread across Bren's face as they dropped the towel, still dripping wet as they stepped towards Wednesday with their arms wide.

"You know, I think you need a big old hug!" Her eyes widened almost comically as she took a step back.

"I want no such thing!"

"You know you want one!" So began the teasing dance that soon devolved into Bren basically threatening to hug basically anyone who had already dried off as everyone squealed and laughed at the game of sort-of-tag it turned into. Jace, of course, being the victim that Bren went after most insistently.

Eventually, Bren came over towards her once more, a bit winded by then as they faked a pout. "April, none of them want hugs from me! Can you imagine! I'm just barely damp!" They insisted dramatically as they dripped onto the floor, though she didn't back away as they dramatically threw themself at her in an embrace that she returned for a brief moment.

"You poor dear." She mused dryly, only to drape their earlier abandoned towel over their head. "Dry off before you track any more mud and water around the house, you goose." She teased, pulling away just enough to resume toweling off her own hair. "I vote, before any activities, that we all get changed into dry clothes. I certainly will be doing so, if nothing else." Fester suddenly looked a touch sheepish, prompting a patient smile from April. "I assume it's too late for that?" She mused, earning a hesitant smile from the man.

"Gomez and I set up quite the endeavor." He admitted. Shaking her head slightly, she simply accepted it.

"Go on and explain it, then, Fester. I'm sure it will be fun." She assured, seeing his megawatt grin return.

"We rigged the entire house with traps and puzzles!" He explained giddily, rubbing his hands together in excitement. "Fencing matches, chess games, swinging hatchets, all the things for a proper sleepover party!"

"That's awesome, Uncle Fester!" Chad crowed, running over to high five the man before grinning at everyone "Come on, guys! Let's get this party started!!"

"...The fuck was the rest of the night if not partying?" Jace mused, giving no resistance when Purnima grabbed his arm to drag him along. Saying something about 'white boy plot armor' despite the eagerness in her step.

April hung back a bit, taking a moment to at least take off her soaked socks and shoes, not wanting blisters, later. Soon enough, they were all caught up in the veritable maze of activities. Leaping through flaming hoops, crawling through tunnels of blankets and coushions and leaping from furniture piece to furniture piece in a variation of 'the floor is lava' where the floor was covered in bear traps. They reached the first hallway where an obstacle of chalk-coated strings was set up to try and get through like a lazer grid. Obviously with the goal of trying not to touch the strings and get the chalk on you. As usual, she and Bren were towards the back of the pack. What wasn't usual, however, was the way they grbbed her arm to stop her from continuing more than halfway through the course.

"You guys go ahead! We'll catch up in a second!" Bren called, waving the others on.

"Bren? Is everything alright?" She asked, concerned. No chalk was on them, so they hadn't run into the strings, at least. She doubted they had managed to stub their toe or something, either.

"Yeah, just saw you looked uncomfortable in those damp jeans. Thought you'd want something dry." They explained with a shrug before ducking under another string to reach out and pull back a black drape on the wall and reveal their room's door with a grin. "Realized the route we were taking, then felt for the knob. Spacial memory is wild, huh? Come on." They pushed their door open before the grin turned a touch wicked. "Bet ya can't make it in from there without touching the string."

She immediately scoffed, eyeing the opening between her and the open space beyond the door. Like a portal to an alternate reality. "What are we betting?"

"Huh?"

"What are we betting?" She reiterated. They considered for a moment.

"If you make it, I'll read any Shakepeare play you want with you, reading whatever role you assign to me out loud for your entertainment." She grinned, excited at the prospect. She had been wanting to get evryone to do a Shakespeare read through for forever!

"And if I don't?"

"You wear whatever I choose to lend you for the rest of the night. No input or exceptions." She hesitated, uneasy, only to remember that it was Bren. Sure, they dressed as modestly or immodestly as they liked. Wore outlandish, alternative clothing with sheer panels and cutouts with insane shoes that couldn't be comfortable...but they knew what she usually wore and what would make her uncomfortable.

Bren wouldn't pick something that would cross her boundaries.

"Alright, deal. Get ready to read Antony and Cleopatra, my Jewel of the Nile!" She smirked, eyeing the angle, calculating the momentum needed to propel herself to victory. It should be easy...

It wasn't easy.

She landed in a sprawl just inside Bren's room, one foot still draped over a string as a cloud of chalk dust settled over her to the backing track of Bren's laughter.

"Well, Mark Antony, I think you'll have to declare victory another day." They teased before helping her up. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I think so. Only bruise seems to be to my ego." She admitted, steeling herself. "Alright, what am I wearing?"

"Go on ahead to the bathroom if you want to start towelling off the worst of the chalk. I'll bring it in a second." They hummed, starting for their wardrobe. "Towels are in the right cabinet, that unscented lotion should be on the left of the counter in case the chalk dried out your skin."

She flushed slightly at the casualness of the statement, as if it was nothing, but couldn't deny the warmth she felt at knowing they still remembered.