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

[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.*