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

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter yawns and looks reproachful.*

I am sleeping, John. Either wait or change it back yourself. At least one of the two shouldn't be entirely beyond your capabilities.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

You are not sleeping! You're awake - you're talking to me now for crying out loud!

Get out of bed and change my door back or I will make you do so.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Only because you had the indecency to invade my home and interrupt my sleep.

No. Now go away and leave me be for a while and I might get around to addressing your request this evening.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John throws several charms designed to get Peter out of bed in a number of ways at the other man, but the wards cause them to bounce off and disintegrate before they can do any damage.*

*Unable to get to Peter directly, John decides to go down another avenue. He rolls up his sleeves, and get himself ready. Focusing as hard as he can, he levitates Peter's bed off the ground. John then proceeds to move it into the center of the room (away from the furniture - he wants to get Peter out of bed, not cause him to split his head open on a sharp edge, after all) and jostles it from side to side. If he isn't thrown from the bed, then hopefully Peter's survival instincts will kick in and he'll voluntarily get up.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

What the he-

*He scrambles to sit upright and clings to the headboard. Wards around the whole room next time. Definitely. Once he's stopped feeling sick. John has to grow tired of doing this soon, doesn't he?*

Shouldn't you be getting Sally a lawyer rather than messing about with my sleeping quarters?

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Nope.

*John continues to rock the bed in the air.*

Fix my door, Mandelson!

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter just grips the headboard tighter and tries to think of some hex or other to break John's concentration. Unfortunately, as with many similar situations, his mind has gone blank save for the single thought that he needs to not throw up.

He lets go with one hand and hastily throws a nausea jinx at the man- he's nearly thrown off in the process but just manages to regain his handhold.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John has to stop jostling the bed to deflect the charm, but manages it. He knows this gives Peter time to regain his holding so changes track.*

*He very slowly starts to turn the bed over.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*It takes a few moments for Peter to work out what's going on, but when he does he flings as many panicked hexes and curses at John as he can. Unfortunately, as he is no longer holding onto the the headboard with both hands, he, as well as the mattress begins to slide off the bed frame.

As distractions go, the hexes seem to have worked as the frame thumps to the ground, but not before Peter has dropped to the carpet, mattress toppling gently on top.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*Being covered in boils does nothing to brighten John's mood.*

Well, Peter, now you're out of bed perhaps you can change my door back, hmm?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter's reply, whatever it is, is muffled beyond comprehension by the combination of the thick carpet and the mattress on his back.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John rolls his eyes then levitates the mattress off Peter and onto the bed frame.*

Time to fix my door, Peter.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*He groans and drags himself off the floor, onto the bed once more, then flings an itching jinx at John- more to express disapproval than with any real desire to cause harm. He rubs his eyes.*

You could just have waited, you know.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John deflects most of the jinx, but it still gets his nose.*

That is irrelevant now you are awake.

Hurry up and change the door, Peter.

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

It is not irrelevent. As you well know, the outcome of any transformation is highly dependent upon the concentration of the caster, which in turn is heavily affected by how well rested said person happens to be.

Now let me have a nap, otherwise your door might end up leading to a different dimension or something similarly troublesome.

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

You could always have a mug of coffee to wake yourself up.

*John remembers what happened the last time Peter decided to forgo sleep in favour of coffee. Perhaps a better plan...*

...alternatively I could empty a bucket of ice-water over your head?

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter glares.*

Go and fetch me some coffee.

*Before John has a chance to reply, he grabs some clothes and stomps off for a shower.*

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John turns to go and make the coffee when another idea strikes him.*

*He waits until he hears the water turn on and the shower door close. He casts a quick sticking charm to stop the door from opening, then cuts all the hot water off so Peter's shower turns icy cold.*

*John then goes to make coffee.*

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

Aaeiii-! FUCKING HOBBIT!

*Peter slams off the taps and tries to open the door. It doesn't seem to want to move. He gives it another shove and the door budges slightly. Several more and there's just about enough space to squeeze through, though by this point he's sweating enough that he needs another shower. Instead, he has a quick wipe down using a flannel and the bathroom sink, then wraps himself up in a towel and goes to sulk by the radiator- the hot water supply may be cut off but it still has enough in it to provide some warmth.*

[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.*