therealpm

My experience with lycanthropy is fortunately limited, but so far it consists of you trying to eat my partner.

Which- what the FUCK, Peter? I know you've had your differences in the past, but that's a pretty fucking EXTREME RESPONSE, wouldn't you say? You wouldn't even get a good meal out of it! What with all the running and cycling he's been doing lately I reckon he's pretty stringy.

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*Peter looks sulky.*

I... I don't remember anything about that night. I only know what John's told me which... frankly isn't very much.

*He gives Alastair a sidelong look*

Not that stringy...

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msdeputyspeaker.livejournal.com

*Dawn has been keeping a rather closer eye on the trio than they probably think. Two mundanes that close to a restless werewolf isn't the best situation. She makes a mental note to remind John to put up some better mundane barriers. Wouldn't want the Shadow Cabinet wandering in and having mass conversions. A lycanthropic Balls is not something she wishes to contemplate. Now the Cabinet can come just as soon as it likes.

She'd kick these two out, except that they're rather amusing her. She can do with some amusement these days.

Also to be quite frank Campbell has a nice arse on him.*

Edited Date: 2012-09-12 03:30 pm (UTC)

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*The glare intensifies. He tries to pull Fiona back again, but when she stands firm he settles instead for slamming a fist into the cell door with a clang.*

Oh, yeah? I could tell you a thing or two about it. Why not? I'll probably be relating the whole bloody story to my therapist in five years' time anyway. You bastard.

And don't look at me like I'm fucking foie gras on toast.

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Really, Peter? Because I remember Alastair going missing, and staying up all night worrying that he was DEAD, which thanks to you he very nearly WAS.

*Peter is looking shifty rather than repentant. Exasperated, Fiona reaches through the bars and seizes his tie. She pulls him closer.*

Don't you even think about doing it again, or I'll skin you. We can have a wolf rug in the living room in front of the television. Wouldn't that look nice, dear?

From:

msdeputyspeaker.livejournal.com

*Dawn privately agrees that it would indeed look nice.

Also, she needs to remember to spend more time with Fiona. This is a woman after her own heart.*

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Well at least you'll have something to talk about other than the disappointment of your latest book sales.

*Peter yelps as he's dragged off balance and only just manages to avoid his face hitting the bars. His hands connect with the wards and he hisses in pain, expression equal parts annoyance and contrition.*

I'm taking a potion now. It... it means I will be able to keep my mind during the next full moon. It won't happen again, Fiona.

*He gives the tie an experimental tug, disliking the close proximity of the wards and folding his arms in annoyance when Fiona refuses to let go.*

I thought you were anti-fur anyway.

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*Fiona notes the hiss of pain and the way Peter's hand seems to bounce off the air. She gives the air between the bars a gentle poke with her finger, but it meets no resistance, just that slight feeling of static electricity. They must have some spell confining Peter inside the cell*.

It better not.

*When Peter tugs his tie he bangs her fingers against the bars. She pulls back, annoyed, and then she's struck with a brilliant idea. He can't reach through the window, can he? And this tie is some awful affair with concentric pastel circles like shooting targets. It's too ugly to be Peter's- it must be a loan from Bercow. He won't care if she ruins it.*

*She quickly threads half of it through the bars and then ties a solid double knot, trapping Peter against the door with his nose an inch from the window. If he pulls on the tie he'll just tighten the knot. With an hour or two of concerted wiggling he might be able to get the loop around his neck wide enough to pull his head free, but she wouldn't bet on it. She hasn't left him a lot of slack. She smirks and backs away.*

I'm against slaughtering innocent animals for fashion, yes. Emphasis on 'innocent'.

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Fiona!

*He scowls and tries to pull the knot round to get it on his side of the bars. It moves a little, but not enough and he bangs his face on the wards. He curses. It might be possible for him to get at the knot if he stretches the tie, but John had been right- he'd really rather not damage a gift from Freddie.*

I didn't mean to chase Alastair, I... I wasn't myself.

...sorry?

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*Alastair, who is watching intently, catches on to the presence of a spell just seconds behind Fiona. He sees her start to thread the end of the tie through the bars and starts.*

What are you doing - ?

*Then suddenly Peter is tied to the bars and a grin spreads across Alastair's face. As Fiona backs away, he moves in to take her place, pressing his face up an inch from the bars. He sniggers as Peter struggles.*

Wriggle out of that, mister. Serves you right. Be careful, now - we wouldn't want you to choke yourself or anything!

What's that? Fiona, I think I just heard him apologise. You'll have to speak up, Peter, it's very hard to hear you grovel from inside that cage.

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*Under normal circumstances Fiona would rescue Peter from her partner at this point, but considering the whole eating incident she feels Alastair is entitled to get a bit of his own back.*

I couldn't be sure, it was kind of ambiguous.

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I-

*He sees Dawn prick up her ears, grits his teeth and pitches his voice to carry to the two bastards tormenting him, but no further.*

I apologise for trying to hunt Alastair. It won't happen again.

*He loosens the knot around his neck slightly- Fiona's yanking on his tie had made the noose uncomfortably tight.*

Now could you please untie me from the door?

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*He takes the knot on his side of the bars and yanks it triumphantly, bashing Peter into the wards again.*

It had better fucking not - or else you'll be taken straight down the vets to get fixed, understand?

What do you think, Fi? Seems a shame to let him go so soon...

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Ali!

*She's laughing, but she pushes him to the side before he can yank on the knot again. That looked like it hurt.*

And no more turning wolfy at Alastair to remind him of his trauma?

Edited Date: 2012-09-12 05:14 pm (UTC)

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*Peter rubs the side of his face where it's hit the wards.*

Fine

*At her warning glare he revises his answer.*

...and I won't try to traumatise Alastair again.

From:

msdeputyspeaker.livejournal.com

*Dawn is having the time of her life.

She probably shouldn't be this amused by Peter being tortured on her watch, but she is.

After all, it isn't like it's serious torture. And they're NuLab, after all - Peter's surely had worse in the past.

Still, John will probably blame her if he finds out. She sighs and prepares to be an adult.*

Visitors should refrain from inspiring the werewolf to bite them.

*Because I sure as hell am not watching three werewolves. One is quite enough.*

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*He glances round at Dawn and scoffs.*

Meanwhile pedestrians should refrain from inspiring cars to mount the pavement and crush them to death. Anyway, he can't bite us, look at him. He's all safely locked away like he should be.

Right?

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I'm sure Peter would never. Right, Peter?

*Peter, correctly interpreting this as one of the conditions of his release, gives a fractional, tight-lipped nod. Fiona decides this is about as much grovelling as they can reasonably ask for.*

Oh, all right then.

*With a little difficulty- all the yanking back and forth has tightened the knot a bit- she manages to untie the knot and free Peter from the door.*

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*Peter steps back from the door, smoothes the tie down and adjusts his shirt collar. The last thing his ego needs right now is to have to weather the squalls of Alastair's mockery that would ensue should the man discover that he's forced to wear a dog collar. He mumbles a thank you to Fiona and just glares at Alastair, unamused by the inference that his being caged was reasonable and a necessity, rather than a gross imposition upon his personal freedom.*

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I'm glad you're well enough to sulk, I suppose.

Nice beard, by the way. I'm sorry I didn't bring you your shaving kit on our last visit, but I assumed it would just be confiscated. Judging by your interesting choice of tie, I suspect I was right.

*She turns to Alastair*

All right, I'm off to the shops. I'll leave you boys to chat- try not to kill each other. Or get yourself turned into a werewolf.

*She waves goodbye to Peter, who's glaring at them from a safe distance, and heads off down the corridor.*

Edited Date: 2012-09-12 06:12 pm (UTC)

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Bye, love. Don't worry about us; we're just so happy to be catching up.

*When Fiona has gone, he leans on the lower edge of the cell window and looks through at Peter.*

Aw, come on. You're not upset, are you? She's just teasing. After what you nearly did to the love of her life not so long ago, you can't really blame her.

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*Peter just crosses his arms*

You tied me to a door.

*He takes some deep breaths and adopts a more level tone.*

I have no idea what I nearly did to you. I wasn't conscious as me and I don't think it's right for you to make me be the target of your petty little revenge stunts.

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I didn't tie you to a door. Although I probably would have done if I'd thought of it first...

Look, it may seem petty to you, but I'm traumatised for life over here, okay? If you really can't remember anything, it went like this: I was round your place, helping you out with manly things like shelves and so on, when you went into the next room and came back as a big hungry wolf that chased me, utterly defenseless by the way, all the way to Primrose Hill. I thought I was going to die! Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't be more than a little vengeful after something like that.

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*Peter snorts*

A thoroughly unbiased and impartial report, I'm sure.

*He stares straight at Alastair through the bars, but does not come any closer*

I'm permanantly imprisoned, with a 50% chance of dying within the next two months. That's a worse prognosis than most inmates on death row. What more do you want?

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