7 am, 4th September. Parliamentary prison cell.

[therealpm]

*The first thing Peter does is to ring George, partly because he misses him, partly because he's overheard whispers of a reshuffle and if anyone's going to have inside info, it's going to be George.  He still hasn't managed to crack the charms on the phone, but he moves the equations from the manuscript to campbell's book for safe keeping, reasoning that people were somewhat less likely to pick up and flick through the latter.

He ignores breakfast when it is brought.  Magical binding or not, Peter has read that some werewolves are able to transform voluntarily and if that's the case, then it's a weapon he means to add to his currently meagre arsenal.  He stares at his hands, trying to draw up the feeling of transformation.  Are the hairs on the back of his hands a little longer?  Perhaps not.  He refocuses and tries again.

By lunch time, Peter's famished and in need of a nap.  He's just about managed to get fur to grow, but his human self reasserts itself after about 5 seconds.  He collapses into a chair and almost inhales the plate of food, ignoring Black Rod's disapproving glare.  After lunch, he curls up on the bed and dozes off.*

Comments

Some point that afternoon

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John arrives through the fireplace with the same bag he brought yesterday. This time the potion and collar are accompanied by a copy of Vince's notes that he used to make the potion. Peter can't delay taking the potion much longer, surely?*

*John calls through the cell door to Peter as he arrives*

'Afternoon, Peter. How are you today, hmm?

*He notices that Peter has just woken up*

Sleeping, were you? Terribly sorry to wake you, but I think you wanted to read this before you started the potion course.

*John retrieves Vince's piece of paper and waves it through the bars at Peter*

Re: Some point that afternoon

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter pulls on a pair of trousers before walking over to the door and grabbing the bit of paper. He gives it a quick glance over, then places it carefully on the table.*

Thank you, I will read it when I have woken up a bit more, and let you know of my decision tomorrow morning.

*He notices that John is still hovering by the cell door.*

...was there anything else?

Re: Some point that afternoon

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

I thought you could read it now and start the potion as soon as possible. Perhaps, for example, in about...

*John checks his watch*

...ten minutes or so?

*He takes the flask out of the bag*

You see, it just so happens that I brought a serving of it with me.

Re: Some point that afternoon

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter gives John a disparaging glare.*

Go and fetch me a cup of coffee then. White. One sugar. I will know if you've tampered with it.

Re: Some point that afternoon

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John retrieves the drink (keeping the bag with him at all times), and some biscuits for good measure. He had already glanced over the ingredients list, and the potion did not look appetising in the least. Peter would more than likely need something to take the taste away.*

Back again - here we are, then.

*John enters the cell and puts the drink and biscuits down on Peter's table. He stands back and smile at Peter, expecting him to drink the coffee and potion in short order.*

Re: Some point that afternoon

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter sips his coffee and reads the document carefully. He is pleased to see that Vince follows the new standard format for potions texts- not just because Peter had a hand in making sure all signatories of the International Potion Standards Agreement adopted the thing, eventually anyway, but also because it makes everything much clearer- conveying just as much information as the previous format, without any of the clutter.

He is less pleased to read the ingredients list. The potion was going to taste vile and he was going to need to drink at least half a pint of it every day.

The process itself looks easy enough, or at least, forgiving of any minor errors. It may not taste nice, but if Vince accidentally cuts the scorzonera into quarter inch rather than third inch cubes, it shouldn't turn poisonous or stop working.*

It needs to be taken with food. I will try drinking it this evening, with dinner.

Re: Some point that afternoon

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

I brought you biscuits, that should do!

Oh fine, oh fine, have it with dinner then.

Actually, there's something else I was meaning to talk to you abou-

*John's phone starts ringing. The name on the screen makes him decide that picking up is a good idea.*

Excuse me for a moment, if you please.

*John picks up the phone, but makes no move to leave the cell.*

Vince, what a pleasure to hear from you. I would have thought you would be busy with the reshuffle - how are you?

Re: Some point that afternoon

[foxtrot-vince.livejournal.com]

Yes, the reshuffle has occupied a great deal of attention today.

In fact, that's what I'm calling you about.

I'm bringing Jo Swinson to BIS to deal with consumer credit.

Re: Some point that afternoon

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John forgets that Vince can't see him down the phone and pulls a confused face.*

Very well, that's interesting, Vince, but I don't see why you would call me to inform me of your new team at Business. Would you might, awfully, elaborating on that?

Re: Some point that afternoon

[foxtrot-vince.livejournal.com]

Consumer credit...and your werewolf.

In other words, since you offered me your werewolf to help at BIS, I thought we needed a liaison to coordinate between us. Jo is extremely capable and will be able to identify appropriate areas for his ...expertise.

Re: Some point that afternoon

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Ah! That makes much more sense, of course, of course.

I'm sure that would be more than...

*John catches Peter's eye. John may be Peter's legal owner, but he knows Peter's not likely to take orders from him, particularly in areas where Peter knows far more than he does.*

Actually, I'm going to hand you over to him - no point negotiating and agreeing these things through a third party when there's absolutely no need.

I'll speak to you in a moment.

*John hands his phone over to Peter to let them thrash out the details.*

Re: Some point that afternoon

[foxtrot-vince.livejournal.com]

Hello, Peter. How are you holding up?

6 PM

[nextliberalpm.livejournal.com]

*Jo enters the corridor outside the cell. She is carrying a briefcase. At the sight of the unguarded wolf, she raises an eyebrow.*

Hello, Peter.

Re: 6 PM

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*He stops sniffing the windowsill, walks over to the door and cocks his head to one side, curious. He doesn't know this person. Balancing on hind legs, with his paws aginst the door, he pokes his nose at the bars, trying to get a better look.*

Re: 6 PM

[nextliberalpm.livejournal.com]

I have some papers for you.

*She looks at him.*

But since I have no desire to see you naked, please stay in that form. I'll just leave these with...

*She looks around.*

Who exactly is supposed to be guarding you right now?

Re: 6 PM

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*He throws back his head and howls. John, at least, should hear that.*

Re: 6 PM

[nextliberalpm.livejournal.com]

Stop that this instant. Do you want the Tories to find out you're down here?

Re: 6 PM

[dasouzzle.livejournal.com]

*As Frances is going through some paperwork in her office when she hears a bone-chilling howl. It seems Peter has transformed without the aid of the moon. She sighs and heads over to his cell.*

*When she arrives she finds no one there but a furry Peter and a young woman she vaguely recongises as a Liberal MP. A mundane Liberal MP.*

What on Earth?

Re: 6 PM

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*As soon as D'Souza arrives, he stops and wanders away to curl up on the bed. It's been a very long day and another nap is looking very tempting.*

Re: 6 PM

[nextliberalpm.livejournal.com]

*Jo attempts a quick introduction.*

Hello, I'm Jo Swinson. I'm a minister at BIS. The Speaker knows I'm here.

*She looks back at the wolf and wrinkles her nose.*

He didn't tell me Peter was transformed, however, or that he would be unguarded. I can hardly transact business with him in this state.

Re: 6 PM

[dasouzzle.livejournal.com]

Oh, I'm not cross with you, dear.

He didn't tell me he would be unguarded either. *Her expression promises a certain amount of pain in John's future.*

Lord Mandelson? Nod if you can hear me. Or... yip, I suppose.

Re: 6 PM

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*He opens one eye. It takes a certain amount of work by the tiny bit of his human side left to process what has been said, and even more prodding of his wolf side to get it to respond, but eventually he growls.*

Re: 6 PM

[nextliberalpm.livejournal.com]

*Jo raises an eyebrow.*

Well, that's going to be very helpful on BIS paperwork indeed.

Re: 6 PM

[dasouzzle.livejournal.com]

Mandelson, the young lady has taken time out of what I am sure is very busy schedule, on today of all days, to bring you your briefing papers.

You can explore your wild side later. Right now you need to change back so she can speak with you. If we leave the room for five minutes will you transform yourself and put some clothing on?

Re: 6 PM

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*The wolf is sleepy and Peter finds it very difficult to convince it to move. After what seems an interminable wait, it shifts from the bed and pads up to the door. The two women seem to take that as a 'yes' and move away, leaving him alone in a darkening room.

The transformation back is tricky. Whereas before, it had been fluid, driven by anger at John and his confinement, now it is a case of methodically forcing each part of him to change in turn in a way that won't involve some vital organ being in two places at once or missing entirely. The difficulty is compounded by the relatively large part of him that just wants to curl up on a bed and go to sleep, rather than read a BIS brief.

It is very slow, very painful, and Peter can hear the two women returning before he's even had time to fully change his limbs back, let alone put any clothes on.

Snatching up a pair of trousers and a shirt, he dashes to the bathroom looking like a slightly predatory fawn- a strange mix of human and wolf. He manages to get the legs and arms straight after a few more minutes, but the eyes stay yellow, he's even hairier than usual (though he thinks the shirt should cover that) and he's too tired to make sure the teeth are quite short enough.

He checks his appearance in the mirror, smoothing down his hair, then steps out to greet the other two.*

Baroness D'Souza, Ms Swinson. Good evening.