therealpm: (I don't think so)
[personal profile] therealpm
*He's been semi concious for about half an hour (fucking birds and their fucking dawn chorus) by the time his alarm goes off at six. He rolls over to tap it off and nearly falls when the bed turns out to be a sofa and the bedside table turns out to not exist.

Urgh.

He rubs the sleep and remnants of last night's glamour charm off his face and goes to make two cups of tea. There's no signs of life from upstairs but perhaps that's to be expected. John's campaign thus far has reeked of indolence at every level. Peter will have to set about sorting that (and their finances) later - for now he needs to get Bercow out doorstepping.

There's a heavy copper-bottomed pan hanging from the wall. By the look of it, it's never been used for anything other than show. He grabs a ladle and gives it an experimental thwack.*

BONG

BONG

BONG

*Peter pauses, from the muffled cursing and thuds as various objects are knocked to the floor, it would appear that upstair's occupant has finally awoken.*

...BONG

(no subject)

Date: 2015-04-23 09:16 am (UTC)
bamfbercow: (Oh for goodness sake...)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John might be a heavy sleeper but even he couldn't sleep through the racket downstairs. He manages to make his way out of bed and downstairs, smashing his little toe into the corner of only one doorframe which later John will count as an achievement.*

What in Merlin's name do you think you're playing at?

*He glances bleary-eyed at the clock on the wall.*

It's six o'clock for heaven's sake!

(no subject)

Date: 2015-04-23 09:32 am (UTC)
bamfbercow: (Oh for goodness sake...)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John blinks at the caffeinated offering and eventually takes it.*

It's just gone six o'clock in the morning, Peter - if I were to go door knocking or start calling potential donors now I'd be more likely to lose their support than anything.

Can't this all wait - another hour at the very least? We stayed behind rather late at the meeting last night - on your orders, I should add - and I didn't get to sleep until well past 1...

(no subject)

Date: 2015-04-23 09:44 am (UTC)
bamfbercow: (huh?)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
There's a printer in the office, but whether there's any ink is another matter...

8am? But no one gets to the office until 9!

(no subject)

Date: 2015-04-23 10:06 am (UTC)
bamfbercow: (posing)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John drains the last of his tea and then sets off to get ready, grumbling to himself all the while.*

*Eventually he emerges - freshly washed, shaved and in his canvassing suit. He had contemplated the St George's Cross bowtie but decided against it as he knew Peter would frogmarch him back upstairs and make him change it anyway.*

We're going to be a bit short staffed this morning, I'm afraid; a few of the sixth form students have early classes on a Thursday and won't be able to join us until after lunch.

(no subject)

Date: 2015-04-23 10:55 am (UTC)
bamfbercow: (huh?)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
Peter? Peter are you even lis-

*John watches as Peter climbs back through the fireplace. With a suitcase. And a grubby, yapping Jack.*

Peter, what is all this? You said we had to get going!

(no subject)

Date: 2015-04-23 11:06 am (UTC)
bamfbercow: (huh?)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
What's all th-

You're only a fireplace away for Merl-

Wh- no, I haven't had-

*He splutters as papers are pushed into his hands*

What are th...

*John quickly looks over the notes and route maps in his hand*

Peter this route is preposterous! It's miles of walking!

(no subject)

Date: 2015-04-23 11:50 am (UTC)
bamfbercow: (Happy)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John wanders through to the kitchen and makes his own breakfast when it becomes clear that Peter isn't going to prepare any for him. Eventually the three of them are in the car and on the way to the office. It's not a particularly long drive but not all the roads are paved and the ride isn't exactly smooth.*

*They pull into the gravel car park of the converted barn that houses John's constituency office. The old, painted wooden doors might look pretty, but there's the usual fight with the aging wood to get into the building. The sun is streaming through the windows in the roof highlighting all the places John and his team have failed to dust.*

Well, this is HQ. Is there anything you particularly need?

(no subject)

Date: 2015-04-23 12:20 pm (UTC)
bamfbercow: (Oh really?)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John notices the hesitation.*

So, what are we to call you? I suppose that, for the purposes of misdirection, "Peter" is right out - it'd be enough prompting to break through a glamour or notice me not, I should think.

And there's no point in a name with no meaning to attachment to you; I don't want to be standing in the middle of the office yelling - oh, I
don't know, Terry or Frank - at you and you not responding. It would ruin the pretense somewhat.

...I don't suppose you'd care to use your old nickname from the '97 campaign?

(no subject)

Date: 2015-04-23 12:42 pm (UTC)
bamfbercow: (Not impressed)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John finds a stack of post-its on his desk and writes a quick cover note which is stuck to Peter's instructions. He leaves them on the front desk where they should be noticed - he can always call the office and point it out to them when he finds a patch of constituency with phone signal.*

*John looks at the map with the route Peter has prepared for him. It's a small village a few miles over which shouldn't take too long to get to. It also contains a few home on Peter's list of 'hits' for donations. The rest of the route appears to wind back to the office. All in all it's a rather good plan - for a candidate half John's age.*

*John puts the thought to one side for a moment and turns to Peter's request. He could mock Peter for not being able to cast even a simply glamour here, but the smirk falls from his face as he starts to struggle with the spell himself - he didn't realise he had grown so used to the power of the Mace. His link with the constituency magic was unpleasantly strained. John tried not to worry about it too much and instead focused his nervous energy on transforming Peter.*

*Eventually, and with much pulling of ridiculous facial expressions, John gets a charm to stick. It's not his best work, but Peter certainly doesn't look like himself anymore.*

*John grabs a mirror off of one of the desks and hands it to Peter.*

I trust this meets with your approval?
Edited Date: 2015-04-23 12:57 pm (UTC)
bamfbercow: (Not impressed)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John is tired and too warm and his feet ache. He's been ignored, abused, yelled at, mistaken for other people, called a fascist and traitor... at least Jack had fun - the dog was almost catatonic thanks to a procession of fuss, tickles and treats.*

*He gets back to the office and almost everyone is there. He is immediately jumped on about this mysterious "Bobby" character - who is he? Where did John meet him? Why was he now in charge when they were doing such a good job themselves?*

*John ushers them all out of the way with a promise to answer their questions as soon as he's had some lunch and fetches a drink for both himself and Jack.*
bamfbercow: (huh?)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*It took John a moment to recognise the man standing in the doorway, but he covered it well enough.*

Bobby!

*John extracted himself from the concerned ramblings of one of the sixth-formers to go over and greet him.*

Everyone, this is Bobby. Bobby this is, well, everyone!
bamfbercow: (huh?)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John is steered into the backroom and somehow avoids knocking into anything. Thankfully, Peter swiftly closes the door to stop the rest of the campaign team staring at John staring at the papers.*

H-How did you...

...You were gone for one morning! How in the world did you...

*He looks up from the papers, eyes wide in disbelief.*
bamfbercow: (Hmmmmm)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
We'll have to arrange a carpooling system to get them all to the polling stations...

*John snaps out of his donations induced coma quickly at the mention of the doorstep.*

It was... less fruitful than your exploits.
bamfbercow: (Sad)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
The biggest point of contention it seemed was the candidate... me, really.

*John sighs and looks around the small room.*

I've been away from the constituency for too long - it's not just the magic that seems to be forgetting me...
Edited Date: 2015-04-23 03:14 pm (UTC)
bamfbercow: (Sad)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John's already halfway through the sandwiches before he gets back to the office. He's bought a packet of every type of biscuit they had, but is mobbed by the office team and they are all taken away before he can have one.*

*He sits, gloomily, in behind his desk and eats the last of his lunch.*
bamfbercow: (Happy)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John returns to the office a few hours later. The visits Peter had set up had done wonders for his mood - the old ladies cooed over the pictures of his children and assured him that they were on side. A couple had talked of their own children and grandchildren who they were now going to suggest come round to Bercow's office and help him out since he was such a nice man. "I might like UKIP" said an old man in a rocking chair "but standing against the Speaker isn't on in my books."*

*John had thanked him and either the social status or force of the man's words helped to turn a few more UKIPs into possible Bercow-voters.*

*The book club session went even better. John dazzled with Disraeli quotes and, thankfully, he'd actually read the book they were discussing that week and so could provide some relevant commentary. They'd laughed at his jokes and made him promise to come back after the election was over so they could have a proper discussion about some of the finer points of John's favourite books.*

*By the time he got back to the office - later than he had planned - he was almost bouncing.*

Bobby! How are things in the office?
bamfbercow: (Happy)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*Running high on a job well done as he was, even John could recognise that tone of voice. Thankfully, he had come prepared...*

Ah...

*John pulled a bottle of wine - the most expensive he could find in the off license - out from a blue carrierbag.*

A little gift, Peter, just to say thank you for all this.

*He offered the bottle to Peter.*

Shall we open it here or would you rather get home first?
bamfbercow: (posing)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John tries to protest but is ushered out of the door before he can form a coherent argument.*

*The office is locked and John is driving the three of them home in no time. It takes longer to get back home with the last of the after-work traffic still on the roads, but they make it home in one piece.*

*Once at home, John realises just how hungry he is.*

Shall I fetch a take away for dinner?

*He looks at the whining dog at his feet.*

What shall I get for Jack?
bamfbercow: (Trying not to laugh)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John, tactfully, doesn't say anything. He knows he was just as bad when the children were younger.*

A trip to the local supermarket it is.

*John fetches his coat and shoes.*

Is there anything else you would like me to fetch while I'm out?
bamfbercow: (posing)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John looks at the glass longingly but heads to the shop nevertheless.*

*He returns a while later with far more groceries than is strictly necessary. There's food for Jack, oven meals for the two of them for days and enough alcohol to sustain a small campaign team in the final two weeks of a general election. John has no inclination to take it to the office - Peter's bound to need a drink most nights given the state of his election group. There's also an impressive collection of biscuits.*

*He puts the food away, gets dinner ready for Jack and starts preparing dinner. He calls through to the living room.*

Everything alright in there? In need of a top up?
bamfbercow: (Trying not to laugh)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John has known Peter long enough to realise that code. He tops up Peter's glass once dinner's in and the frozen pudding is thawing on the side.*

*He'd love a drink, but he knows that Peter's right - Bobby can hide away in the office directing the campaign but John is the one with his face on the leaflets. He can't risk a hangover.*

Dinner will be in about 20 minutes.

*John wanders back through to the kitchen to make sure everything's tidy and pour himself a glass of squash. In the right light the blackcurrant drink almost looks like wine...*
bamfbercow: (Trying not to laugh)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
*John sorts dinner onto two plates and carries them and cutlery through to the other room. He has to nudge Peter into sitting up but the other man takes the meal without protest.*

*The fall into affable if somewhat slow conversation about the news.*

*All in all, John thinks, sipping at his soft drink, it has been a rather good day.*
bamfbercow: (huh?)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
I... I can't right now, Peter. Maybe in a few days, but for now I'm afraid the sofa stays as it is.

You could always go through the firepl...

*Even as he says it, Peter's blurred glare makes him stop.*

...I could get an inflatable bed set up for tomorrow night?
bamfbercow: (Hmmmmm)
From: [personal profile] bamfbercow
Peter! That's- but-

I'm the candidate, damnit; I'm the one that needs-

Are you even listening to me?

*John follows Peter upstairs, arguing all the way.*

*Eventually the issues is resolved; Peter claims half the bed, but at least John gets to sleep on his usual side.*
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