17th September, 3 pm. Prison Cell

[therealpm]

*Peter scratches his way through the summary of yet another brief.  Apparently he is ahead of what the BIS civil servants had estimated he would be able to summarise.  A small satisfaction.

He stretches his hand and stares out the window, willing away the cramping up his forearm and takes another sip of water.*

Comments

[thetwitterqueen.livejournal.com]

I shouldn't, I really shouldn't.

*But Peter is smirking at her, and well, Sally's never been a particularly kind person.*

Well, there was this one time when we were newly married that he was trying to invent a new spell to give himself an extra couple of inches.

But for once he was being a bit sensible and decided he'd need to think about the logistics of this - could he just add the inches to his legs? Did he need to sort of stretch himself all over? What would be the best way?

So he went into the bedroom and fished out a pair of my heels to see what a few extra inches would look like if they were all in the legs.

He slipped them on, with much fumbling, then gingerly - ever so carefully - stood up, struggling for balance. He swore sternly at them, commanding them not to wobble. He locked his knees and stiffened his ankles.

Then he looked in the mirror.

*She struggles with her facial expression.*

And saw, behind his reflection, me standing in the bathroom door, watching him bemusedly.

*She loses the battle with her face and starts giggling.

Between her giggles, she manages - *

He fell over.

*After another bout of giggles, she sobers herself with a massive effort.*

Luckily his spell to repair a sprained ankle was rather more successful than any of his height-enhancers have been to date.

Unluckily, I was still standing there and I hadn't been a dream.

Of course, I then offered to show him how to walk in them properly, so it wasn't that bad (except for the whole embarrassment from falling over bit). I am a very understanding wife. But you don't want to hear about that.

*She beams at Peter and drops him a slow wink, before leaning back.*

Your turn.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter gets his face under control with difficulty, then turns to the door.*

John! You never told us about this. If we'd have had any idea of your affinity for heels, why, Alan and I would have persuaded Julian to take you to an entirely different set of bars.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John splutters and tried to think of a retort.*

I- I rather think it would be wise to get back on topic, don't you? Sally, didn't you want to see Peter transform at some point?

[thetwitterqueen.livejournal.com]

*Sally grins.*

This is on topic, dear. After all, I think I get to decide what "on topic" is?

*She's been watching Peter closely during their stories, even amidst all the giggling, and she's convinced now that the man is just as human as he ever was, and just as harmless. (To the children, at least. She imagines he's still just as harmful to Tories.)

Still, much as she might regret cutting her chatting with Peter short, John probably has a point about moving on with things. She doesn't want to make herself a nuisance to Peter.

She turns back to the man on the bed.*

I don't want to outstay my welcome or tire you out. Shall I come back tomorrow? Or we can keep chatting if you like. I don't have to be back upstairs for a while.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Sally, if you are willing to share more of these anecdotes, then I have hours at my disposal.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Sally, we do have to get back home some time this week. I am sure Peter doesn't want to hear all the embarrassing stories you have on me in one go, at least.

If you're reassured that Peter is safe when he's in human form, then why not ask him to transform so you can see how he behaves when he's in the body of the wolf? Wouldn't that be a more productive use of the time?

[thetwitterqueen.livejournal.com]

*Sally gets up so she can put her hands on her hips and glare down her nose at John.*

John Simon Bercow, if you think I'm just going to demand that Peter transform into a wolf, then you have another think coming. You might be so rude, but I am having a perfectly lovely time with Peter, and if he doesn't feel like transforming tonight, I will continue to have a perfectly lovely time until I and Peter decide that it's time for me to leave. I fail to see how it's your business in the slightest. You do not own me!

*Hearing the last sentence echo around the cell, she winces. That was ... not something she should have said.

She attempts to save the situation.*

Besides, I think that if Peter's going to transform - whether now or in the future - he should be able to get out of this stuffy little cell and into the fresh air. Surely there's got to be a top-secret place somewhere where we could go? You're always bragging about how you know all the top Army blokes. If it's dark, we could take him somewhere deserted and let him run around a bit.

*She turns to tell Peter in a confidential tone -*

If I had been cooped up in here this long, I would have gone for his throat by now. You have remarkable control.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter's face goes carefully blank at the mention of ownership. He swings his legs up onto the bed, folds his hands over his stomach and waits, expectantly.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

I was merely suggesting that we try and fulfil the aims of your trip here this evening before the babysitter leaves.

It was a suggestion, Sally!

If you think, in the long run, that spending all evening gossiping with Peter about my faults is a far more valuable use of your time, then by all means go ahead. However, I would just point out that the longer you spend swapping the tales, the longer you have to wait to see if you can find it in you to trust Peter to be around our children, something I know you, Peter, I and the children are keen to resolve post haste.

[thetwitterqueen.livejournal.com]

*Argh. The man is so infuriating sometimes.*

Thank you for your suggestions, John, they are duly noted.

*She turns her nose up at him and swivels to look at Peter. The man looks like one of her children, sitting quietly on the bed, and she immediately feels guilty for fighting in front of him. That's the last thing Peter needs, more drama.

She gentles her voice.*

What do you want to do, Peter? It's completely up to you. Please don't listen to John, he's being a dick.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter smirks from under his fringe at John, then compoes his face and turns to Sally.*

I am perfectly happy to provide a... demonstration of the wolf form, though not the act of transformation itself, today, however...

*He glares at John.*

...in future more freedom to roam would definitely be appreciated.

[thetwitterqueen.livejournal.com]

*Sally smiles at him.*

That would be lovely, but only if you want to. Should I go out, or is the bathroom big enough?

*She lets her smile take on a wicked edge.*

And don't worry about the future. If I'd realised...I will make sure John finds a way to give you a bit more freedom.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

The bathroom will be fine.

*He favours Sally with a friendly smile, and John a smug nod as he passes.

Once inside the bathroom, he leans the door just to (paws can't handle door handles terribly well), strips off, folding each item of clothing and placing it carefully on the toilet lid, then takes a deep breath and summons up the part of him that prefers four legs to two.

It is difficult- the new moon was only two days ago and the wolf form is still very small and very weak; It takes a lot of persuasion to wake it up. If Peter hadn't practiced the transformation extensively by now, he doubts he would be able to do so at all. Eventually though, his claws and fur begin to grow and he runs through the now familiar sequence of changes as he transforms from man to wolf.

Shaking himself off, he uses a paw to poke the door open and pads out to meet Sally and John.*

[thetwitterqueen.livejournal.com]

*As Sally waits - rather longer than she'd expected - she's surprised to find herself more than a little nervous. She hadn't been at all nervous last time. But now, waiting in a werewolf's cell, with John nearby but still a ways away from her, her nerves are beginning to race.

And then Peter steps out in his wolf form.

He's beautiful, is her first thought. Scary, yes...but beautiful.

She clears her throat.*

Peter?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter wags his tail and whines happily, then wanders over to the bed, leaps up onto the spot he vacated only ten minutes before and curls up to sleep. The transformation at this time of month still takes far too much out of him and he is very tired.*

[thetwitterqueen.livejournal.com]

*Sally holds her ground as the wolf pads past her and jumps up on the bed. It certainly doesn't seem to be a danger to her.

She plucks up her courage and steps closer, then reaches out her hand to stroke his head.

His fur is soft under her hand, and he does not snap at her. He could be a big fluffy dog - but for the lycanthropy surging through his veins, she reminds herself sadly.*

Good night, Peter. I'll let you sleep now.

*She hasn't really been able to spend enough time with the wolf to know whether or not he's safe, although even in this short time she's leaning towards yes. But she does need more time, and besides, using it as a lever against John will mean she has a good chance of getting Peter out of the Palace for a bit. After this long cooped up, he's sure to need it.

She strokes him one last time.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter snoozes, oblivious.*

[thetwitterqueen.livejournal.com]

*Sally pats his head, then turns and walks quietly to the door.

She raises a finger to her lips, and John, mercifully, obeys for once. He lets her through the wards, and the two of them head back upstairs.

They pass a carefully blank Lindsay on the way. Sally'd forgotten all about him. Well, she hopes he enjoyed that little show.

But now she needs to go up and hug her children, and thank the stars above that they are safe and whole.

And, perhaps, prod her husband into calling some Army friends.*