soldtoarmenians

"Ribbit."

Xander muttered into his pillow. "Lemme sleep, dude. Busy day yesterday." It had been; after an e-mail from Rory, he'd headed to the library to help research, where he'd been pleased to see at least someone had been paying attention in Scoobying, had an unwelcome attack of deja vu when Tyler revealed that there were mummies involved in this week's spate of weirdness, and accidentally ended up talking to Dawn about porn. As you do.

Then there'd been the meeting in Rory's room, where he'd volunteered his computer for the support team, and himself for the fighting. After which he'd handwavily headed back here and poked through the files Willow had left on his laptop to see if there was anything on Egyptian mummies. Which not so much; plenty on South American ones, naturally, but nothing they didn't already know about their more famous cousins. Waste of time anyway, considering not-his-Willow would have all this at her fingertips too, and she had smarter fingers, but he'd wanted to do something to help with Rory's OMGGUILTWOE.

So the second "Ribbit!" which was quickly joined by a third, and then a fourth, was less than welcome. "It's not that late! I'll get you breakfast innaminute. Rarr."

"RIBBIT!" Right in his ear.

Xander turned his head and opened his eyes.

"Ribbit!" said the little green frog on his pillow. "Rbblrt brrrrrum!" said the little green frog next to the little green frog on his pillow.

"CROAK!" said Jeremiah, from his tank.

"...WTF?" said Xander, and sat up, blinking.

Five minutes later, he was scooting them out the door, but for every frog he dumped out into the hallway, another seemed to take its place.
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[...No I am not playing with myself in the comments zomg. Haven't you ever seen a guy talking to his frog before? ...that be not a euphemism.]