Monday 8th October. Prison Cell

[therealpm]

*Peter stares out of the window at the thoroughly dismal weather, unable to concentrate on the briefing in front of him.  It's a new one, so it probably contains something of value if leaked to the press via one of his erstwhile colleagues, aka Tinkerbell, aka Alastair.  He should at least search for something to give Chuka, but he really can't be bothered.

He shivers.  Despite much prodding from Fiona, he's barely had anything except tea and some toast since Friday.  It probably isn't helping his concentration, but he just doesn't feel like eating.

He catches sight of the phone out of the corner of his eye and considers ringing the stupid wonderful heartless man, just to see if he can make him feel as bad as Peter does, but resists.  It probably wouldn't work.  George already thinks he's a monster, Peter doesn't want him thinking he's pathetic as well.  He shoves the phone under some papers so it's out of sight and tries to get back to work.*

Comments

6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John makes his way to Peter's cell once more. He's been trying for days now to get the other man out of whatever funk he's in, but without any success. Promise of excursion out of the Palace without Paddy following him, extension of television capabilities, any book he could ever wish for, none of it had any impact on the man in the cell. As such, John had concluded that only a radical approach would work.*

*In one hand, John carries three bottles of the most expensive wine he could find. His other hand is waving along a procession of plates full of food and two wine glasses. He goes through the fireplace to other other room and, without a work, lets himself into Peter's cell.*

Peter, I have no idea what it is that is bothering you. What I do know is that you haven't eaten a proper meal for days now, and that is a situation which cannot, under and circumstances, continue.

*John summons over several plates of food and has them hover in front of the other man.*

Eat at least one of these, Peter, and you may have as much of this as you please.

*John hands over a bottle for Peter to inspect.*

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter blinks. He'd been so busy ruminating (wallowing in self pity, an unhelpful part of his conciousness supplied) that he hadn't even heard the man entering the cell.*

That's... do you have any idea how much one of those bottles costs, John? Put it down before you drop it!

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John places the bottles on Peter's desk.*

Pick a meal - and fast, Peter, or I'll put these bottles back where I found them.

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter cautiously picks a bowl of soup out of the air, more to prevent the contents' perilous acceleration over the rim as it orbits John's head, than any real desire to taste it. Choice made, he considers the bottles before him.*

Did you raid the Palace cellars for these, John? Whatever would the Mail say, keeping a monster in luxury at the taxpayer's expense?

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Well, if you'd rather not have them, then I am sure I could take them back before anyone knew they were missing.

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter ponders- the soup is some reheated tinned tomato based thing, but the wine is superb, and getting quietly trashed at John's expense is one of the many small rituals he's missed since being confined to thecell.*

...you would trip over your own feet and drop them. It would be a tragic waste.

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Well then, you had best eat your dinner so you may save me the trip back down to the cellar later, don't you think?

*John levitates some cutlery towards Peter so he can eat.*

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter rolls his eyes, but picks up a spoon anyway. He can hardly fight off future tickle attempts by Alastair if he's famished.*

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John picks out a sandwich from the remaining meals and eats it himself rather quickly. He waits for Peter to finish before attempting conversation.*

Anything else to eat or would you prefer to move on to the wine?

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter pushes the plate away. His stomach is unused to a full meal and he's feeling a little sick.*

No, thank you.

*He inspects each bottle closely, there is very little to choose between them. Eventually he taps the top of one.*

This one.

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John summons the corkscrew and enchants it to open the bottle. He lets the wine breathe for a while - That's what you're meant to do, isn't it? he thinks to himself - then has the bottle pour out two glasses. He levitates one towards Peter and the other to himself.*

Cheers.

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*They clink glasses and return to sitting in silence. Peter occasionally sips his wine- it's incredibly good, even he has to admit. The contrast to the raw meat or toast which have been the main components of his diet for the past two weeks is extreme and he revels in the multi-layored flavour of the drink.*

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John sips at his own wine, attempting to come up with a topic of conversation but since he doesn't know what's bothering Peter, he isn't sure any topic he chooses will be safe. Instead, he continues to sit silently, sipping the wine.*

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter's probably halfway through his second glass (he can't be sure because John's enchanted the bottle to top his glass up automatically and he wasn't looking). John's looking sheepishly into his own cup, and Peter belatedly notes that he probably ought to show some sort of appreciation for the gift.*

It is very good wine.

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you approve; I didn't think a bottle of Blossom Hill would cut it this time, for some reason.

Don't expect this caliber of wine from me from now on, though.

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

'This time'? Why, what are we celebrating?

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

We're celebrating you finally having a meal, of course!

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

....couldn't you have brought cake, and killed two birds with one stone?

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

I think there's some chocolate gateaux left in the fridge if you'd care for a slice?

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter sips his wine, closing his eyes in pleasure at the taste.*

Not at present.

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Well, do be sure to let me know if and when that changes, Peter.

*John goes back to sipping his wine in silence.*

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter looks across at the other man.*

Why are you here, anyway. I've eaten my dinner like a good boy. Haven't you got constituents to soothe and so forth?

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Would you rather I go and let you consume three bottles of the most expensive wine I could find at short notice by yourself?

If so, then by all means I will let you drink yourself into a stupor, the alcohol simply exacerbating your melancholy. Or I could stay and try and help you forget - if only for a short while - about whatever it is that's got you into this state in the first place.

The choice, as ever, Peter, is entirely yours.

Re: 6 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*It is very good wine, and given his non-human metabolism, drinking far too much of it probably won't do any lasting damage, and he has to admit that blacking out completely is not an entirely unattractive option by this point. He snorts.*

You are doing so well at the latter. The utter silence is terribly distracting.

Re: 6 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

You see, Peter, the issue is that I have no idea in the slightest what caused you to be in this mood in the first place, and, as such, I have no idea in the slightest which conversational topics would make things worse rather than better.

I would attempt to converse about the quality of the wine as a starter, but, as I'm sure you're more than aware by now, my palate may as well be non-existent for all the use it is in conversations of that kind.