9th October, 7 am. Prison Cell.

[therealpm]

*A combination of sunlight and the sound of snores more akin to a donkey being sawn in half than anything that should emanate from a human throat drag Peter up from the depths of sleep and deposit him, dazed and confused, in a somewhat tangled mess of blankets and more limbs than he remembered having last night.  He struggles to sit upwards, blinking back the fog clouding his brain and reaches for the mug of water he always keeps on the desk beside his bed. 

The wall of bottles and wineglasses in his way gives him some clue as to the source of the acrid taste on his tongue.  He swirls the water round his mouth to clear it, then considers the noisy lump at the end of his bed more carefully.  On closer inspection, it is clear that the errant limbs belong to the lump- Peter hasn't turned into a were-spider or something similar in the middle of the night and sprouted extra, which is a relief- his clothing bills are high enough already.

On even closer inspection, including a 'gentle' prod with one foot, the lump turns out to be a somewhat bleary and hungover Speaker of the House of Commons.

Well.

That would go some way towards explaining the provenance of the bottles, the contents of which could probably have been used as a downpayment for a family home.  In London.

He prods the lump again and receives only a muffled grumble in response.*

Comments

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter drops onto the sofa, head in his hands. It hurts: having so little freedom or control that he has to sneak about even to talk to his child creation. He has no choice any more, no input into decisions made about what will happen to him. John could decide tomorrow that Peter doesn't need books or work or a bed or even the limited freedom to walk about unhindered in a cell and there is nothing Peter could do, no laws he can count on, to stop that from happening. A small part of his mind wonders whether John would do those things, if it meant keeping Dawn on side.

'He hasn't exactly stood up for you before. Where was he when Dawn chained you to a wall, or Alastair nearly drowned you? He'll promise the world when he's had too much to drink, but when it comes to doing anything...'*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John sips his drink and tries to think of a way out of this. Now he's calmed down (and the throbbing has subsided) he begin to try and think a way out of this.*

*Firstly, he could just ignore Dawn. Peter said it himself, John is legally in control of Peter - and of his children. If he were to do that, Dawn would run to DEFRA and there's a distinct possibility Peter would be taken away.*

*Secondly, he could ignore Peter's wish to stay in the flat and make him go back to the cell. That idea was a no-starter to begin with.*

*Thirdly, he could try trawling through the regulations to see if there was any reference to werewolves being allowed near children. If it explicitly states they must be kept apart, then there is no hope at all. But if they're vague enough, John might be able to persuade DEFRA that he isn't breaking any rules. A sympathetic ear might be needed at DEFRA - Peter's case worker seemed to be either liberally principled or easily charmed - but it could theoretically be possible.*

*John wanders through to the living room and goes to the cupboard with all their personal filing. He finds the DEFRA contract and begins to flick through it, occasionally sipping from his water.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter watches as John returns to the living room. He expects the man to at least say something, but John gives no indication that he's noticed Peter's existence, and instead starts to flick through what looks like Peter's DEFRA paperwork. Peter feels sick. He's not sure what John's doing, but given their argument a few minutes ago, this doesn't bode well.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John finds the relevant part of the document. The wording is vague, but not vague enough. While John may choose who interacts with Peter, DEFRA have the final authority - if they disagree with John's decision they have the final word and can invoke almost any penalty they like. Knowing the general attitude that DEFRA seem to take on these issues, they would more than likely side with Dawn.*

*John sighs*

*It looks like they'll have to do this the sneaky way.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter looks up sharply when John sighs, but John seems no more inclined towards discussion than he was earlier. Peter's heart thumps loud with nerves as he sits and waits, hating every helpless minute.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John finds the timetable for who's on guard duty, a pad of paper and a few pens. He takes all these things over to where Peter is.*

If we're going to get Dawn out of the way long enough for you to see the children, you're going to have to help me to rearrange the timetable.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter's mouth drops open with relief. He recovers control of his face quickly, but his mind still spins.*

Yes... of course.

*He grabs a pen and studies the timetable closely.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*Too busy drawing out a few space, empty timetables, John doesn't spot Peter's shock. He copies out one exactly as things currently stand and then begins trying to shift things around a bit.*

If we move Nigel to this slot from there... and extend Dawn's shift that day so we can cancel out mine there... but then Frances will be on for too long. Hmm.

*John scribbles over his workings and tries again.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter takes an empty copy and fills in all the places where he doesn't mind being in the cell with 'Dawn'. He then tries to slot all other potential guards around those.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*Having scribbled on his page to the point that most of his comments and suggested solutions are unreadable, John takes a new timetable and starts again.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter passes a completed timetable across to John. It relies rather more heavily on Paddy and Norman (neither of whom Peter rates as mages, Paddy because he isn't and Norman because it's Norman) than the original, but as that cuts down on Dawn's shifts, Peter hopes it will go unremarked.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John looks through the timetable.*

No, Peter, Nigel isn't going to be on night duty; he's terrified enough of you in the day as it is.

We'll need to swap that shift around.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*By the time they've settled on a final version of the timetable, it's almost lunch time and Peter still hasn't taken his potion. Peter nudges John out of his contemplation of the draft and asks him where it's kept.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John nearly kicks himself - how could I forget about the potion?!*

Don't worry, I'll get it - would you like some lunch too?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*He nods, and lunch passes amicably enough.

The afternoon is spent quietly: catching up on casework (John) and reading novels of his own choosing (Peter). The peace is broken by the slam of a door and a screamed 'The nerve of that woman!' in what sounds suspiciously like Sally's voice. The two men exchange glances, neither wanting to be the first to investigate.*