31 October, 8am. Miles Mandelson's house.

[therealpm]

*Peter sips his very milky tea and does his best to ignore Miles, who is chattering away about a "very good physiotherapist, he lives in the next village.  I'll give him a ring and see if he can come round today."  Eventually, he points out that actually, he is perfectly capable of walking and doesn't need any assistance; a notion that Miles quickly shoots down by reminding him of his ill-fated attempts to get out of the car and walk up the garden path by himself yesterday.

His mood further deteriorates when Miles points out that being a werewolf would be an excellent hallowen costume.  There's a pang of loss at the thought of his other form, which he doesn't quite know how to deal with.  Instead, he gets out his phone, ignoring Miles' protestations about work at the breakfast table and texts John:*

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

Bercow,

I haven't died.
Miles is somehow managing to be even more annoying than you.
wish the children a Happy Hallowe'en for me.

-Mandelson

Comments

1st November 9 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

Would you care to visit this evening to watch Question Time or are you otherwise occupied for the duration of the program?

-John

Re: 1st November 9 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter stirs at the sound of the phone. He hadn't been napping, just... resting on the sofa when two dogs decided he needed to be cuddled at great length and he hadn't thought to move since. He gently shifts them out the way, pockets the phone and staggers his way to the kitchen.

His brother seems to keep very little in the way of potion supplies or bodily fluids. Awkward.*

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

John,

expect me in ten minutes.

-Peter

*The only thing vaguely bloody is a packet of pork chops. Usually Peter would be able to use nearly any substance and have his magic make up the difference, but at the moment he needs all the assistance he can get.

He drags the packet out of the fridge, staggers back to the living room (trying not to alert Miles to his movements and nearly collapses in front of the fireplace. The dogs are far too interested in the chops- he tosses a toy down the hall. The noise will alert Miles but hopefully he'll be mostly finished by then.

Grabbing a chop, he daubs runes in bloody lard on the front of the mantlepiece and around the hearth. A quick scrabble for the matches on the mantlepiece later, and he has a small number of firelighters blazing in the grate. Miles has wandered through to the living room now- his xpression a mixture of disgust and horror.*

Keep the fire burning, Miles, I'm just popping round to see John. Oh, and don't touch the runes. Otherwise you might send half of me to Aberdeen and the other to Aberystwyth.

*He grins, and before Miles can get a word in edgewise, practically launches himself into the flames.*

Re: 1st November 9 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John receives the text and promptly goes to put the kettle on. He has two cups of tea and a plate of biscuits ready and waiting just as Peter comes through the fireplace.*

Good evening, Peter. How have you been?

Re: 1st November 9 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter staggers, but manages to catch the edge of the mantlepiece and keep himself upright.*

Oh, I've had worse.

*He gives John a pointed look. John looks away in embarrassment. Peter moves as fast as he can to the nearest chair whilst John's attention is elsewhere.*

Re: 1st November 9 pm

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*By the time John recovers, Peter is in his seat and comfortable. John places Peter's tea on the table next to him and offers the other man the biscuit plate.*

Should be an entertaining show tonight. Interesting at the very least.

Re: 1st November 9 pm

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*They chat for a little while, passing the time until Question Time begins. Peter's answers grow steadily shorter, his eyelids droop lower. Less than half an hour after stepping through the fireplace, his biscuit falls from his fingers and he is fast asleep.*