12th September, 10 am, Prison Cell

[therealpm]

*Peter is bored.  Very bored.  Nigel has been replaced by Dawn, who alternates between ignoring and threatening him with being re-shackled if he as much as pokes a toe out of line, so he's been unable to do anythin other than read through a seemingly endles series of briefings which, whilst preferable to having no connection to the power of a ministerial role, do tend to blur into a neverending screed of civil service speak.*

Comments

[paddythebamf.livejournal.com]

*It's a while since Paddy's stood guard over anything, but it comes back remarkably quickly.

The building creaks and groans a little in the quiet of the night, but then it always does, and old habits die hard--Paddy has always subconsciously noted the difference between the right creaks and the wrong ones, just like he knows the engine noises of every car in his village, and a strange one idling by his gate is still enough to wake him from the soundest of sleeps.

No, the only thing to observe is Peter. Frances clearly doesn't entirely trust the rather stout bars of these doors, or that leather collar thing that Peter was wearing last night (may still be wearing, since he's apparently gone to bed in a shirt and tie, but the light's not been good enough to tell for sure). As for personality, Paddy likes Peter rather more then he ought, but he's never made the mistake of trusting him.

So it's safe to assume that it's not safe. Fortunately that's just the way Paddy likes it.

Especially since Peter is no expert at pretending to sleep. Paddy's guarded experts before, and he's got the scars to prove it.*

So Peter, are you plotting, or merely sulking tonight? Just as a matter of interest.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Paddy's comment startles Peter out of a rather delicate act of propping open two loopholes in the wards, one against the other. He manages to wedge one open slightly before it closes, and at least to slow the other down enough so as not to send a shockwave that might set off any alarms, but what was potentially an avenue for escape that could have been ready in days is now closed. He is not, therefore, in the best of moods when he answers Paddy's question.*

I am not sulking.

*He mentally replays his answer and hurriedly amends.*

Or plotting.

I am trying to get to sleep.

[paddythebamf.livejournal.com]

I'm glad to hear it, certainly on the first count.

Of course, if the second is true, I should probably be calling for an ambulance right now.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter undoes the tie- he'd been too engrossed in altering the wards to think of it earlier- and throws it across the room.*

I do not require medical attention, but thank you for your concern.

*He pauses, then shucks off his suit jacket and trousers as well, though those he folds and places by the bed. Ashdown might be more convinced of his desire to sleep once Peter is no longer fully dressed.*

[paddythebamf.livejournal.com]

*Decent people look away when someone's getting undressed. Soldiers on guard don't, but Paddy's seen it all enough times not to be overly bothered.

So he's plotting, then. Good to know some things never change, Paddy thinks.

Paddy wonders whether to bring out the silver bullets, but decides that that would be kicking a man when he's down. And besides, it's always best to have a surprise to bring to the party, just in case. Instead, he brings out one of Jane's throwing stars and tosses it in his hand idly. Jane'll be pleased with this one--good sharp edge on it, and no tell-tale reflections off the sides.

He'll give Peter 20 minutes, he decides, and then disturb him again. Just in case.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter fluffs up the pillow a few times, then curls up and tries to pretend to be asleep again. This time, he investigates the wards surrounding the fireplace. There's more of them, to allow visitors that way sometimes, he supposes, and complexity is always a good place to look for loopholes. He allows his magic, stunted, slowed and weakened as it is by the collar, to reach out and begin to snoop for weak spots*

[paddythebamf.livejournal.com]

*Peter's pretending to sleep again. Paddy sighs. Waiting for trouble was always the boring bit, but Frances would have his hide if he went looking for it instead.

Paddy tosses the throwing star a few times and then throws it with moderate force at the door frame. It buries itself deep into the wood with a satisfying thunk.

Frances will probably have his hide for that too. He pulls it clear of the wood and palms it up his sleeve.*

Still sulking?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter jumps at the sound and bites back curses as another loophole slips closed.*

Will you not just let me sleep, Ashdown?

[paddythebamf.livejournal.com]

Sleep, yes. Plot silently in the darkness, not so much.

Text to 078######## Suggest you come and check on our hairy friend. Not sure why he's being shifty this time but suspect it's more your department than mine.

[paddythebamf.livejournal.com]

Text to 078######## And for pity's sake tell him he can shave! The sulking is getting unbearable.

If it's any consolation, Peter, I'll bring you a waxing kit instead of the razors tomorrow. My granddaughter tells me they're the best thing for hair removal.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Concentration on the spells entirely shattered, Peter snaps back*

I'm not and it isn't.