24th September, 8 am. Prison cell.

[therealpm]

*Peter wakes up feeling groggy and disorientated.  Although not as bone tired as yesterday, his muscles still ache and cramp.  Something nags at the back of his mind, something important that he needed to do and he rubs his eyes, mentally replaying yesterday's events, trying to remember.  The first memory that surfaces- being shoved into the wards by Alastair, causes him to shudder and wince.

His fringe drops in his eyes and he pushes it back, noting with distaste the grittiness of mud on his scalp.  Still trying to recall what it was yesterday, he heads off to the shower, limbs protesting against the effort and back stiffened straight more from cramp than good posture.

It is not until he is beginning to wash his hair for the third time (he hasn't felt so filthy since secondary school and it is not pleasant), that he remembers: the conference.*

Fuck!

*He finishes washing, then towels of and dresses rapidly, nearly running (well, hobbling quickly) to the phone.*


Text received from 07### ######

John,

my presence is required at Labour conference next weekend.  Cancelling not an option.  At least one of the events is after dark.

-Peter

Comments

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John cannot follow exactly what Peter says, but from his tone, John can work out he has annoyed the werewolf.*

...right. Very well, then.

*John sips his tea.*

I would, of course, have to clear this with several authoritative bodies and significant individuals. If this were the plan we decided upon, of course.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

I can see no other feasible route.

*He sips his tea, then places the cup down quickly, arms still achey.*

Of course, programming also takes time. A decision would need to be made today.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John nearly spits out his tea*

Today?!

That simply isn't possible. I can't get authorisation that quickly - even if I were to allow you to do this.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

I am quite aware that you could not get authorisation for me to install such a transmitter today, however working on the program would only require your personal authorisation as I would not need to leave the Parliamentary Estate.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*If John lets Peter do this, it would, quite possibly, save a great deal of fuss, hassle and running around the less reputable areas of magical London. Then again, it would involve moving Peter from his cell to The Machine's control room, somewhere John cannot ward or guard as effectively. That, combined with John's almost total lack of technical knowledge, would mean putting a great deal of trust and faith in Peter...*

*Then again, from Peter's perspective, if he misbehaves too much he knows he'll be sent to DEFRA and either exterminated or experimented upon and then killed. He's not likely to do anything too damaging... is he?*

*John mentally runs through the list of things he knows The Machine was, at one point or another, capable of: tea maker, invasion of dreams, electrocution on demand, brainwashing, hangovers, diagnostics, transportation... diagnostics. Diagnostics.*

Very well, Peter, I shall let you begin working on the code, subject to a number of requirements.

First of all, you work on the code to create a doppleganger for conference and nothing else, is that clear? Not even improvements to the tea-making facilities.

Secondly, I have the right to impose as many wards and restrictions on you, the control room and any/all places we pass through as I deem necessary in the circumstances.

Thridly, we get The Machine to run some sort of diagnostics program on you as you work - see if it can work out just how you ended up in this situation in the first place.

*And perhaps it can give me an objective list of your capabilities in both wolf and human form, John mentally adds.*

And fourthly - if I think you so much as put a toe out of line at any point, Peter, your twice weekly scheduled exercise with Paddy will suddenly become twice daily until the end of your very short existence.

*John finishes his tea.*

Your thoughts?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter was already working on ways to get around restrictions one and two before John had finished announcing three. He mentally shrugged that one off, but his deliberations were brought to a screeching halt as his hind brain, the bit responsible for self preservation, noted the contents of number four and decided to shut down any activity that could be in violation of the fourth stipulation. It made Peter a little dizzy.*

Yes, that...

*His memory helpfully supplies details of the full extent of pain and misery that twice daily sessions would entail. Peter tells it to be quiet and that he will be careful when deceiving John, thank you ever so much.*

...seems reasonable.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Marvellous!

*John clears away the breakfast things and leaves the cell*

I shall get these put away, go and secure the room and then you can start on the computer-program.

*John disappears through the fireplace.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter watches him go, wondering how many alterations he can make in the cause of creating a doppleganger for conference. Quite a few, he should think. Especially as John is technologically illiterate.

The wards would be annoying. The diagnostics useful, Peter is quite eager to see the results himself, and the threat... doesn't bear thinking about, so he doesn't. Instead he gets on with more BIS work and tells himself the nausea is just from eating his breakfast too quickly.*