It was nearly ten minutes before Sam stirred again, his eyes opening slowly and falling on Peter first, then the backs of Owen and Jack's head. Only, of course, it wasn't Sam. It was someone borrowing his body. Not like he wanted to, but how else could he make contact with the rampant poofter brigade?

"Shit," he muttered, rubbing his eyes, making a low growling noise. "Christ almighty."

Peter pulled himself upright with a curious expression, feet dropping down as he waited to see just what would happen. If anyone didn't know Sam, they'd of been convinced he had a split personality thing going on.

"Sammy?"

"Piss off, you Scottish twat."