therealpm: (Thinking)
[personal profile] therealpm
*Prior to the balloon trick, Miles had been content to let his younger brother take the lead in devising and implementing the pranks, however, when he'd seen a rather shaken younger sibling standing in the middle of a living room covered entirely in popped House of Commons balloons, he'd taken a rather more active interest.  Which was why yesterday afternoon, after some brief enquiries as to exactly how much mass Peter could transport and with what accuracy, he'd driven Peter to a pharmacy several towns away (he wouldn't say why they couldn't go to the one in the village, just turned up the radio when Peter asked.  As it was Radio 4 this wasn't particularly effective, but Peter took the hint and stared out of the car window instead).

Peter stayed in the car, reaching over the back seat to pet the two dogs, whilst Miles went into the Chemist's, returning red faced and clutching a paper bag.  He'd tossed the bag into Peter's lap with a gruff instruction to 'get that into the little bastard's tea tomorrow morning, and make sure he drinks all of it'.

And so, the next morning at 7am, Peter finds himself sleepily drawing a rune circle and checking the omniview on his phone- waiting for the optimum moment to lace the Speaker of the House of Commons's tea with viagra.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 04:28 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John once again stumbles out of his large, half-empty bed and down to the kitchen. He puts a couple of slices of bread in the toaster and sleepily makes some tea.*

*The toast burns and sets off the fire alarm, distracting John from his tea for a while as he frantically waves a tea towel under the detector until the beeping stops. Annoyed, he spread butter on the burnt slabs and tries to wash them down with large gulps of tea after every bite.*
Edited Date: 2012-11-07 04:30 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 04:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter watches carefully via the omniview, a huge grin spreading slowly across his face. Only when John has finished his first cup and pours himself a second, does Peter cancel the video feed and fetch his own (unadulterated) breakfast.

It's a good day: the sores are finally healing over, the pangs of his opiate withdrawal symtoms are at last beginning to subside, and he's going to be able to watch Bercow endure a few very uncomfortable hours in the chamber (come hell or high water, John won't give up PMQs) indeed and on national TV, no less.

The news of a 'left wing' victory in the US is merely the cherry on the cake.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 05:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*It's about 45 minutes later when John begins to notice something's wrong. He's dressed and checking work emails, preparing for PMQs when he notices it. He stares a his lap in confusion.*

Well, I suppose Sally hasn't been here for a while...

*John shakes his head.*

A cold shower and then back to work.

*He does as he says, but it doesn't seem to help at all. Now very confused and slightly worried - perhaps he should go to the doctor about it? - he scans the house for any traces of magic, just in case.*

*A transportation spell of some kind shows up around his tea cup.*

...you bastard, Peter.

*John picks up his phone.*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

This is-


*He thinks about using the phrase "below the belt", but that much is self-evident.*


-crossing a line! Whatever you put in my tea, reverse the effects at once! I have PMQs later!

-John
Edited Date: 2012-11-07 05:14 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 05:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter nearly spills his tea as he sniggers his way through John's text message. He wipes his fingers and taps out a reply.*

Text from 07### ######

John,

feel free to concede defeat.

-Peter

*He carefully doesn't mention that he has no idea how to reverse the effects.*
Edited Date: 2012-11-07 05:20 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 05:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John is frantically flipping through some old books to try and find a way to get himself back to normal when Peter's reply comes through.*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

Never.

-John
Edited Date: 2012-11-07 05:22 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 05:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*By this time, Peter is nearly crying with laughter.*

Text from 07#### ######

John,

very well. On your own... head... be it.

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 05:40 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John tries to think up of a witty response, but can't, so throws his phone across the room in anger.*

*He spends as long as he can searching for a way to reverse the effects of whatever it is Peter put in his tea, but no luck. Even the magical parts of the internet don't have a solution.*

*In the end, he has to go with a slightly modified glamour charm to stop everyone in the chamber noticing his... problem. He picks up his phone and pockets it in case anything important happens while he's at work. He doesn't think to switch it off vibrate.*

*Even he can tell he's behaving slightly oddly in the chamber, quicker to reprimand MPs from all parties and so distracted that he stumbles over his words when Ben Bradshaw voluntarily gives up his prime spot in an opposition day debate to allow others to speak. He's just grateful that no one can see what's going on in his trousers at that point, or they might get the wrong idea.*

*John returns to his seat and counts down the minutes until he can leave the chamber and hide in Speaker's House until the damn thing returns to normal.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 05:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter keeps BBC Parliament on as he slowly packs away his possessions. Miles hasn't said anything, but Peter doesn't like to outstay his welcome. He pauses to send John another text.*

Text from 07### ######

John,

returning to London. Thought you ought to know. Aware locator spells not your forte.

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 05:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*When John's phone goes off he nearly jumps out of his seat. Thankfully the camera is on one of the backbench Conservatives giving a speech so he doubts it will be shown on television. John doesn't think for a moment that Peter has missed it, however - he'll have the thing on omni-view or will have had The Machine hack into the cameras so he has a live feed (or even a recorded one to show Sally later just to spite John).*

*John discretely reads the text but decides not to reply. Hopefully that will discourage Peter texting him again. Just to be safe, he switches the phone off vibrate and turns the volume down as low as it will go.*

*He then tries to focus on the debate once more.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 06:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter finishes folding his clothes, stowing them away in the suitcase. Packing didn't take long. With luck, he'd be home by dinner time. He checks his phone. No reply. he has a quick peek via the omniview.*

Text from 07### ######

John,

terribly bad manners to ignore someone. Maintaining that glamour is clearly distracting you from your duties. Perhaps I ought to cancel it?

-Peter
Edited Date: 2012-11-07 06:03 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 06:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John's ringtone quietly goes off, and he opens the message before anyone other than the clerks can notice.*

*He scowls at the text and swiftly replies.*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

What is distracting me from my job is your texting. Kindly cease!

-John

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 06:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Miles has packed food, just in case, and helps Peter load his things into the car. They're barely out the driveway before Miles has shoved his iPad over to Peter to stop him trying to revive the constituency game, even in jest.*

Text from 07### ######

John,

really? I wasn't aware it had such a profound effect on you. How flattering.

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 06:28 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John once again picks the phone up quickly, and reads the text when he's sure no one is looking at him.*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

For some reason I find it rather distracting when anyone is texting me while I try to work.

Stop it.

-John

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 06:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter sends a request to The Machine to change John's ringtone before replying.*

Text from 07### ######

John,

you may cease to pretend that you haven't lost at any time.

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 06:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*This time when John's phone goes off, it is at full volume and a different tune altogether.*

*John rushes to pick up his phone, fumbles, and drops it, meaning the song goes on for far longer than he would have liked. Everyone in the chamber laughs at him, but John calls order as soon as he's stopped the music.*

*He opens the texts and ignores it for a while. When he thinks it's safe to, he leaves the chamber and heads back upstairs to the house.*

*He scrolls through the messages Peter has sent him. So, Peter's returning to London, is he? Well, he'll have a surprise waiting for him...*

*John drops the glamour charm and focuses all his magic on changing every bottle of alcohol Peter owns into Asda Basic Tropical Fruit Juice (from concentrate).*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

I will win this thing.

-John

*John then starts to try and reset his ringtone.*
Edited Date: 2012-11-07 06:46 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 06:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
Text from 07### ######

John,

are you sure, you appear to be having some performance issues.

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 06:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
Text from 078## ######

Peter,

I never have performance issues.

-John

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 07:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
Text from 07### ######

John,

my conversations with Sally would suggest otherwise.

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 07:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John is so angry with Peter that he's tempted to throw in a jibe about the Chancellor being unimpressed with Peter's abilities, but even with the red mist descending he knows it would be a bad idea that he would pay for dearly later.*

*Instead, he switches every single book in Peter's house - including the phone book and Peter's address book - to Dark Lord: The Teenage Years. It means the spare room is how completely full of Peter's books, but John believes it to be a small price to pay.*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

I do not care to know what discussions you have been having with my wife on this topic.

-John
Edited Date: 2012-11-07 07:27 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 07:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter chuckles and doesn't deign to reply. Instead, he and Miles spend the rest of the journey chatting aimiably and complaining about the traffic. They decide it's all Boris's fault.

It's not until they finally arrive at Peter's house and begin to carry the luggage in that either notice anything amiss. It is Miles who first cocks an eyebrow in surprise at the large number of children's books lying about the place. He assumes they are copies from the publisher.*

"Peter? You didn't tell me you'd written another book."

I haven't...

*Peter stacks a box a of the miscellaneous bric-a-brac that accumulates whenever a person stays anywhere for more than a few days on top of a suitcase and walks over.*

...that's not mine...

*He frowns and looks around the room. Copies of the same book are visible on the shelves in the hall. One peeks out from under a cushion- he's sure that'd been Philip's last book. He'd been reading it before... before everything happened.

He picks a copy up and reads the back:*

A Dark Lord gets turned into a teena-

...oh. Oh. John. You are not funny. You are decidedly not-

*He bolts for the library, worst fears confirmed as he rounds a corner and sees row after identical row of small, brightly coloured paperbacks.*

Shit.

He trudges back downstairs. Miles pats him on the shoulder: sympathetic, but eager to leave. Peter says goodbye, then drops into a chair and takes out his phone.*

Text from 07### ######

John,

very funny. Give them back.

-Peter
Edited Date: 2012-11-07 07:42 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 07:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John is scribbling yet more prank ideas on a piece of paper when the next text arrives. He opens it and smirks as he replies.*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

No.

-John

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 07:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter's mouth twists in a sour grimace. John's response is annoying, but hardly unexpected. He considers his options.

Option 1 is to concede the battle and beg for his books back: humiliating, but at least he can be sure of getting them all back intact.

Option 2 is to attempt to take them back by force, not something Peter's particularly capable of doing at the moment. Even the most cursory examination shows that John has them fairly heavily warded.

Option 3 is to continue the war and to hopefully gain his own bargaining chip, either by stealing something dear to John (difficult as Peter has no wish to involve the children and he's already ruined John's sport kit), or putting some sort of curse on John so humiliating or vile that the Speaker has no choice but to ask Peter to remove it. The latter appeals to Peter's desire for revenge, but runs the risk of getting D'Souza involved if whatever hex he throws at John is deemed to interfere with Bercow's ability to perform his duties as Speaker. Which covers damn near all of them, otherwise there'd be no point in casting it.

In the mean time, of course, he needs to distract John from throwing anything else at him.


Text from 07### ######

John,

tell me, did you purchase every copy of this book or are you guilty of theft on two counts- both of my books and those of the publishing house?

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 07:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
Text from 078## ######

Peter,

If you wish to report the crime, go ahead. I'm sure the Met police would be thrilled to know all about our Mage War.

-John

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 08:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*That.... hadn't gone as well as he had hoped. He frowns and grabs a pen, writing out a list of all the non-familial things John cares about.

-Flying
-Erskine May
-Fine wine.

...

He could tell Sally.

...but he doubts that will end well.

He decides to try a different tack.*


Text from 07### ######

John,

fine, just send Philip's book back. He wrote a note in it to me before he died and I would prefer not to lose it.

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 08:27 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John feels a slight pang of guilt but pushes through it to write a response.*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

I will more than happily send back every single book you own if you bring an end to this by conceding.

-John

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 08:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter shifts and winces- his sores are healing but still hurt. He tugs a blanket down from the back of the sofa and wraps himself up in it- the day is growing darker and the house feels so empty.*

Text from 07### ######

John,

I can hardly ascertain the cause of my lycanthropy without them. It seems somewhat negligent for you to impede research into something that could become a national security issue.

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 08:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
Text from 078## ######

Peter,

You spiked my tea with Viagra - I had to do PMQs while under its influence. It is still affecting me!

You have no right to tell me to do the responsible thing.

If you'd just swallow your pride and admit that you've lost, you can have your books back in an instant.

-John
Edited Date: 2012-11-07 08:41 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 08:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
Text from 07### ######

John,

...that was Miles's idea, not mine.

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 08:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
Text from 078## ######

Peter,

Yet you were the one to carry out the plan - he couldn't have done it by himself. You were the one to lace my drink and you were the one who continued to torment me all day.

Just say you concede, Peter.

-John

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 10:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
Text from 07### ######

John,

I can torment you all of tomorrow too if you refuse to give me my books back. Such are the joys of 'retirement'.

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 10:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
Text from 078## ######

Peter,

Oh for Merlin's sake, just concede already! You can't come round and visit the children if we're just going to be throwing hexes and fireballs at each other the whole time. Freddie is insistent that we throw you a birthday party since they missed out this year. Oliver has a decoration plan in his room and even Jemima's annoyed that they didn't get to see you.

Just tell me this damned thing over, Peter; you can have your books back and we'll organise a time for your "surprise" party.

-John

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 10:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
Text from 07### ######

John,

well since you ask so nicely: 'this thing is over', I accept your concession and would suggest that a case of wine would be suitable tribute for you to offer as loser.

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 10:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
Text from 078## ######

Peter,

No, I think you for your concession.

-John

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 10:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter begins to type out a text, but the medium is inadequate for what he wishes to convey. Instead, he stands, letting the blanket fall to the floor, and stalks over to a large mirror. His face is more gaunt than he remembers- the cheekbones are sharper and the hollows under his eyes are bruise blue.

An image is the lightest thing one can send by magic, and Peter directs his to the ornate mirror which hangs above the fireplace in Bercow's living room.*

Bercow.

You asked to end the war- in that sense you conceded. If you wish to reopen hostilities, I will of course oblige, however in the intirim you will return my dead friend's book.

*Peter snaps the image off and tugs a cloth over the mirror, preventing John from using the same means to reply.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 11:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*At the sound of his name, John yelps and grabs a pillow to cover his lap.*

*He tries to argue back with Peter but the other man disappears before he can get a word out.*

*John considers his options. He could demand that Peter concede. That would likely escalate the war and do far more damage than initially intended, but at least John's pride would be saved in the short term. On the other hand, John could play along with what Peter wants and end the war so they could go back to having tea and let the children see Peter again.*

*John picks up his phone.*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

Since the conflict has reached a conclusion, I would like to ask when you would be free to visit for cake and presents.

-John

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 11:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter snorts at the message and replies.*

Text from 07### ######

John,

once my books have been returned, undamaged.

-Peter

*He smirks as the glossy paperbacks start to disappear almost immediately, to be replaced one by one with more familiar titles. Deciding to reward himself for winning (He quickly stamps on the thought that George isn't here to do that for him), Peter heads off to the cellar to fetch a nice bottle of red- nothing fancy, just the sort of good, rich wine that rolls over the tongue.

Feeling magnanimous, he even considers inviting John to join him... once all the books have been returned of course. Until then...

...as soon as he uncorks the bottle, he can tell something's off. His sense of smell isn't as good as it was before the cure, but one doesn't need to be a bloodhound to tell wine from-

-he pours a little into a glass-

-fruit juice.

One barked order to The Machine and a quick scan later confirms the rather obvious culprit: Bercow.*


Text from 07### ######

Bercow,

return my wine. Now.


*He doesn't bother to sign it.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 11:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*Settled down with a cup of tea, John is confused when his phone goes off again.*

*He reads the message, momentarily confused.*

Return...

Oh!

*John waves his hand and the wine is returned. John then continues to sip his tea and flick through the television channels to find something to watch until he falls asleep.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-11-07 11:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter's somewhat mollified, but drops his phone onto the coffee table rather than reply. He'll stay by himself tonight.

The room's getting chilly again, so he finds the blanket and curls up in it once more. Someone, presumably Fiona (grumpily aided by Alastair), has tidied up- there's not a trace of shredded curtain to be seen, but the window where he and Campbell were hanging curtains is still bare and lets in the sodium glare of streetlamps. Peter shivers and calls out to Jack, who has been re-acquainting himself with the place since they arrived.

The small dog cuddles up on his chest and Peter thinks that he could just sleep here- no need to go upstairs, with the wardrobe full of clothes that aren't his. He buries his face in the blanket. Surviving the treatment, Miles and the prank war have all kept him too busy to do more than live moment to moment. He's not had time to sit back and reflect much since it happened, and he finds that when he digs down for the splinter, the wound's still as raw as it was a month before.

Jack whines, and Peter tries not to cuddle him too hard, the poor boy needs to breath, but... he just needs...

The glass of wine remains mostly un-drunk and Peter stays downstairs that night.*
Edited Date: 2012-11-07 11:36 pm (UTC)
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