The breakfast table, 18th Nov.

[therealpm]

*Peter wakes early, still bouyed up by the election results and heads downstairs for a cup of tea and a yoghurt. His phone buzzes as the kettle boils. An update from The Machine.

Sipping his tea slowly, he scrolls through the results and nearly spills it everywhere when he reaches The Machine's conclusions, which have been carefully bolded so he can't possibly miss them. A quick enquiry confirms that the results have been double, triple and quadruple checked- there is no uncertainty.

Grinning, he types out a text message.*


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

John,

your presence is required. ASAP.

-Peter


*He sips his tea again, considering how to procede. A little background music wouldn't go amiss.*

Comments

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John laughs to himself as he hears Peter's cry, the continues to make coffee. He calls up the stairs when it's done.*

Peter, your coffee's ready!

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Get back to your hole you miserable little halfling.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Not until you've had your coffee and even then only if you accompany me to change the door back.

Come and get your coffee before it goes cold.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Smug little shit.

*He doesn't deign to shout a reply, preferring to towel his hair dry and pull on some clothing instead.

Fully dressed, and slightly warmer, he opens the bathroom door, trudges downstairs and flings the wet towel over John's head.*

You are abombinable. As is this coffee.

*A quick sniff, however, confirms that John has not adulterated it, so Peter drinks it anyway.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John takes the towel off his head and dumps it onto one of the spare chairs. John sips at his own tea as Peter drinks his coffee.*

The children will be delighted to see you again, I'm sure.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter just huffs and drinks his coffee, mind conjouring up and discarding various convoluted schemes of revenge.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John drinks his tea in silence.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Eventually the coffee is drunk and the inevitable can be put off no longer.*

Well? Am I to be marched there with a wand pointing at my throat, just like old times, or can we dispense with the formalities?

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*Normally, a pang of guilt would well up at the mention of Peter's time with lycanthropy, but at the moment John is too annoyed to care much and so ignores the comment.*

Go and change the door back, Peter.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter folds his arms.*

Manners. I am not yours to be ordered hither and thither.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Perhaps you would do well to remember manners when thinking of altering the structure of a house in a grade one listed building in the center of the largest city in Europe.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter inspects his fingernails.*

A harmless prank, nohing more. Certainly not something that justifies breaking into a man's house and assaulting his person.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Very well, Peter. Would you please go and fix the very illegal thing you did to my house?

Better?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Of course- once you've fixed the multiple illegal things you've done to mine.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John narrows his eyes, but says nothing. Instead, he waves his hand and things are put to right - the hot water is restored and the bed remade (though quite how messing up someone's bed is suddenly illegal, John doesn't bother asking).*

There.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Excellent! Shall we be off?

*He doesn't wait for John's reply, instead stepping through the fireplace and calling out a greeting to the children.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John follows Peter through the fireplace.*

Yes, yes, I'm sure Uncle Peter would love to spend time with you once he's fixed the door.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Yes Freddie, I do have to change it back. Your father was very insistant on that point.

I know, I rather like it when it's this shape too. Looks much more welcoming than a boring oblong door, doesn't it?

Oh really? I didn't think to paint it, Freddie, but it would look very good in red, you're right.

...hello Sally.

Right.

Yes.

...one moment.

There.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John tries (and fails) to not be incredibly smug as Sally takes his side for once.*

I don't know, Freddie, why don't you ask Uncle Peter if he would like to stay?

You could show him your new hat.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

I'm afraid I have other matters requiring my attention.

...

...what a lovely hat Freddie. No, I'd rather not wear it, if it's all the same to you.

Because it's your hat.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Freddie, Uncle Peter is a very busy man. You have to let him go if that is what he wants.

...No, Freddie, I haven't done anything to make Uncle Peter hate me again, thank you for reminding me of that.

Yes, I am sure.

Yes, Freddie, I-

*It is at that moment that Jemima decides that the argument has gone on long enough. To bring the confrontation to an end, she helpfully reminds her father (in front of Peter) that he promised they'd read through some of that potions book Grandma gave her.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Sally looks interested at Freddie's remark. Peter makes a mental note to possibly exploit that later, should she enquire why he'd decided to alter their front door.*

...which book is it?

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John tries to recall the author and title.*

Errrm... I think- I think it's by...

*Jemima just rolls her eyes and fetches the book, which she takes to show Peter.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter and Jemima curl up on the sofa, flicking through the stained pages whilst Oliver and Freddie sit on the back and armrest respectively, listening attentively.

Peter can distantly hear Sally taking John aside to ask about Freddie's comment, but his main focus is explaining why it's important to chop the salsify root into exact cudes, rather than merely into tiny pieces.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*Freddie, quickly bored by the conversation, climbs down and puts his wolf hat back on, then goes to pretend to stalk some prey. Oliver, on the other hand, keeps interrupting to ask more about the potions and the roots of the terms. Why is it called that, not this? Who thought that bit up? Why are those more important than this?*

*Annoyed, Jemima tries to direct the conversation back to actual potion making and the right way to do it. Should it always be clockwise turns, or would anti-clockwise work too?*

*John, too busy trying to explain the mage war and its outcomes to Sally, does not notice any of this.*