O'Brien certainly was in bed, and the sound of his doorbell barely roused him, his eyes slowly blinking open to look at the clock beside his bed. Who on Earth would be calling at this time of day? He sat up a bit with a stretch and yawn before getting out of his warm bed to put on a robe-having only pajama bottoms on-and head to the door buzzer, leaning to it to call through the intercom.
"Who is it?" His voice was thick with sleep and irritation and he waited for a reply with an annoyed stretch of his back.