A/N- Just a transitional chappie. I'm sorry if you speak Spanish. Enjoy!
Chapter 32
Bobby Drake, Human Alarm Clock
For the second time in less than twelve hours, something was lobbed at my tent.
Logan's voice.
"C'mon, let's get movin', kiddos. The Blackbird is up and runnin'!" Logan shouted, his voice piercing the tranquility of the peaceful morning like an air horn.
"John… we have to get up." I said, not moving from his arms.
"Give it back." he muttered.
"Are you even awake?" I asked, nudging his shoulder.
"That's my sock, Bobby. Take it out of the spaghetti."
"John, your sock isn't in the spaghetti. Get up." I said, stifling a laugh.
"Yes it is. Bobby wants to eat my socks." he whined petulantly, eyes shut.
"John." I laughed, pulling his arm.
"Donde esta la agua? Mi vaca es en fuego!."
"Jesus Christ." I muttered, unzipping the tent flap and poking my head out. I saw Bobby already collapsing the tent he and Rogue had shared.
"Bobby, since when does John speak Spanish?" I called.
"John's not getting up?"
"How'd you know?"
"I'm his alarm clock."
"Can you do something about it? He's accusing you of wanting to ingest his socks. And something about a flaming cow." I explained.
"Not again." Bobby groaned.
I raised an eyebrow, but decided not to press the matter.
"John, get up!"
No reply.
"John!"
Still silence.
"Rogue and Anna are mud wrestling!"
"WHAT?" I shouted, punching him in the arm.
"That usually works." Bobby explained sheepishly, rubbing his arm where I had struck him.
"Gee, thanks Bobby. I'm glad to help where I can." I said, trying to glare at him but failing miserably.
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"Where is the water? My cow is on fire!"