14th October, 9 am.

[therealpm]

*Peter works his way quietly through yet another brief, occasionally stopping to flick the fringe out of his eyes.  His hair is far too long by now and it's beginning to annoy him. 

The TV screen in the corner is on, but remains carefully blank.  The Machine takes pains not to be visible when a guard might be peering through the door unless Peter specifically requests an answer.  Last night had been their longest uninterrupted conversation since the programming of the doppelganger.  Peter had guessed (correctly) that none of his guards would wish to miss The Thick of It, and so he'd had a whole half hour to talk with his creation. 

Peter being Peter, this had mostly involved a set of detailed instructions on what The Machine should do if the 'cure' killed him, and a request to both monitor and if possible, strategically intervene in the care pathway of Peter's two victims.  They were too far away for The Machine to do anything directly of course, but all patient records are computerised these days and overstressed doctors tend not to notice slight alterations to a patient's records or prescriptions when they've got another few dozen to manage as well.

The Machine tells him they're doing better and that LaGarde seems to be doing her best to make Osborne miserable.  It helps.  A little.*

Comments

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John comes down to Peter cell with breakfast, tea and newspapers.*

Good morning, Peter! How are you on this most delightful of mornings?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter sends a sharp glare at the TV when he hears the fireplace roar with an arrival. 'You stay quiet'. Although John didn't cut off his access to The Machine when he found out, Peter sees no reason to push his luck.*

Moderately busy with these briefings. And yourself? I see you survived.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Oh are you busy? I'll be off sharpish then.

*He places the items on the desk on top of some papers that look finished*

Yes, yes, I survived and Brain Tumour Research are more than two and a half thousand pounds better off. Some other fantastic events there as well, of course.

But I shan't bore you with the details.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter pointedly rearranges the papers so that they are not on top of his 'done' pile to which he intends to add many more papers today.*

Well done. I'm sure they'll do wonderful things with the money.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Of course they will, of course they will.

*John sorts out breakfast and starts sipping at his tea.*

The House resumes tomorrow, so there will be extra wards - misdirection spells down the corridor and so on - put up overnight. It will almost mean that the timetable will more than likely be a little sporadic until we settle into a routine again, but I'm sure it won't take long to sort out.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter accepts a cup of tea.*

Will they automatically allow access to certain people, or will it be a blanket ban that can be moved aside only by those with access to the Mace?

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

I'll need to discuss that with the other guards. Both plans have their weaknesses, but I'm not entirely sure which would be best.

After all, you know how I am with wards...

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter ignores that and begins ticking people off on his fingers.*

Hmm. Alastair and Fiona will need to be allowed through. And Ms Swinson, of course. Undoubtedly Cable will need access once the cure has begun to be administered.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Of course, of course.

Is there anyone else you would like on the list - anyone you would like to come and visit you that I could perhaps get in contact with?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

...

Miles.

If things don't go so well.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John nods.*

I take it The Machine has his details?

Is there anyone else?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter grabs a piece of paper and scribbles down an address and phone number, then passes it to John.*

Yes... but she may not be cooperative, under the circumstances.

And no... no one else.

*It's been over a week now. He hasn't called back. He isn't coming back. You shouldn't still be moping after him like some lovesick teenager. Let. It. Go'*

No one else.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John takes the piece of paper, folds it and puts it in his pocket.*

I understand.

Is there anything I can get you today? My time will be limited from tomorrow onwards, but if there's something I can do now...?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

....I would like to see the children again before the 'cure' begins. I doubt I will be particularly mobile given the intensive nature of the treatment required, nor do I think they will be particularly thrilled to visit me under those circumstances.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John finishes his tea*

I understand, as I am sure Sally will. We will do all we can to facilitate your wishes. I will have to check the rota again and so on, but it should be manageable.

Is there anything else, or shall I leave you to your work now?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*He sighs and rubs his eyes.*

I will write a new Will today and will need two witnesses- preferably two of the deputy speakers as none of them are beneficiaries, to sign it. Should I be deemed human at time of death, there is little else you need to do. If I am not deemed human, I would prefer that you follow the provisions in the Will, although they obviously will not be legally binding.

I think that is all for now.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John nods. He really doesn't want to talk about Wills and the legal ramifications of Peter's death (should it occur while he is in the cell), but it has to be done.*

I'll see to that.

Would you like another pot of tea or have you had your fill for now?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

No, thank you.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Very well, then.

I'll return once I've dealt with your requests.

*John leaves Peter to his work.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter nods his goodbyes and begins to write:

'I, Peter Mandelson of'

he pauses. He can hardly put down the cell as his address. Besides, if he becomes human he will regain posession of his old house, won't he? Or does it stay with John?

'Probably no point worrying about it, I'm going to be dead anyway'.

He writes in the address for his house at Regent's park.

'...revoke all former testamentary dispositions made by me and declare this to be my last will...'

He sets his jaw.

'I hope John abides by this. George isn't getting a damned thing if I have any say in it.'*