What Happens When Sleepy Emmet Is Sleepy.

Beep, Beep, Beep, Snap!

Emmet's eyes snapped open with a jerk. "Uh, Neil! What the heck are you doing now, mate?"

Neil grinned maliciously down at his friend. "Jus' takin' a little picture our Sleeping Beauty! Here, now that you're actually awake, let's get another one." Neil said, tapping the mouse on Emmett's Laptop for another picture.

"Uh, Neil! C'mon!" Emmet grumbled.

"What, would you rather I'd kissed you?" Neil asked in a sing-song voice as he began to dance around the room. "I'm sure that I would make a fine Prince Charming or knight in shining armor."

"Yeah, for some fan girl out there, not me," Emmet groaned as he closed his laptop and leaned forward while rubbing his eyes tiredly, making everything go a bit fuzzy. Neil's bouncy-ness was making him more sleepy then he already was. He was about to drift off into another doze when Neil began to sing.

"Es mua! Es mua! So wonderfully fit! To serve at the Table Round!" Neil's voice playfully filled the once quiet room.

"George, is this normal?" Emmet pointedly asked the older, more Neil-Keith-Damian experienced man when he walked into the back room of the recording studio. He waved his hand towards Neil, who was now spiralling in circles and so dangerously close to banging into a standing lamp as he continued to sing his chosen song of knight-hood.

"Depends on what you mean by normal," George responded, raising his eyebrow at the hyped up Neil. Slowly, the middle-aged man fell back onto one of the sofas while rubbing his hands over his baldhead. "Neil, you're getting the lyrics wrong."

"But es mua!" Neil responded in a very insisting tone, spinning to face George while waving his hands dramatically and almost toppling over. George just shook his head, not even bothering to continue to correct Neil.

"Damo's not dead, Damo's not dead, Damo's not dead!" Keith suddenly came hollering and bouncing into the back room, waving his survival-phone around. Anyone awake -- or rather, alert enough -- knew that Keith was happily gloating about the fact that the groups fellow singer was passing through The Glee Project, trying to get on the show Glee. The youngest of the Celtic Thunder enjoyed Glee immensely, along with Keith and Ryan and Paul -- two recent singers of the Scots-Irish group.

"But I think that Sir Emmet Cahill is," George announced to the rest of the group, watching the tired Emmet slump back in his cushioned chair, his eyes closed.

"That's not good because he's supposed to be in the recording studio now with Sharon and Phil talking about new songs for him to sing for the next show!" Keith dramatically whispered the mouthful to George as he stood over Emmet, pulling at one of the guy's spent out eyelids. This caused Emmet to jump awake again and then groan loudly when he realized that it was Keith disturbing him from his nap, not some Martian trying to take him to Pigfarts.

"How do you guys manage?" Emmet mumbled the question, almost incoherently, to nobody in general.

"Wha-AT?" Keith said loudly in Emmet's ear, making him wince noticeably. Keith giggled at the face that Emmett made. "Careful -- we can't afford our hotness-in-arms face getting stuck with a squinty look!" Keith teased Emmet, poking the dejected man in the arm.

"I don't care. I need some coffee ..." Emmet grumbled as he slumped over the armrest of the chair, ignoring the sluggish complaining thoughts of a later cricked neck.

At this, Keith bounced up. "Starbucks time!" He yelled, happily.

"Keith!" George said in the most father-like warning tone he could take on.

"C'mon! For Damo's intellectual dance moves sake?" Keith yelled back into the room from the hallway. George tried to call the surfer boy back, but it was too late; Keith was already off into the mists of the city in search of the closest Starbucks. George wasn't really scared of him getting lost. It was just a matter of what would happen when Keith got back. Sighing, George looked back at Emmet.

"Caffine ..." Emmet groaned into the cloth of the armrest again. When George realized that the young man was starting to drool, he could tell from experience that he had not seen the worst of the situation.