therealpm: (smug)
[personal profile] therealpm
*Peter skims through Hansard. He's been far too busy plotting revenge attending to House of Lords business to watch the debates today, but with the statement on the equal marriage consultation and Treasury questions, it seems reasonable to invest a little time digging out the choicer quotes. Especially if he's expected to turn up to the Lords for those sort of things.

Most of the debate is pretty predictable, but towards the end Bercow takes a point of order. Most odd; there's still a statement to go.

As he reads through the exchange, the corners of his mouth begin to turn up, until by the end he's sporting a full blown smirk. It's not just that Osborne was made to sit there and be reprimanded for his disregard of parliamentary procedure, but that it's done in such a way as to make Bercow's dislike for the man painfully obvious. Peter is reminded of nothing so much as Jack's tendency to growl, and even nip, when he spots a long-lens camera. A sort of dogged, over-protective loyalty that's as endearing as it is amusing (he buries the pang of resentment he still feels every time he sees someone mocking his George. It's a tenacious habit but one he is determined to break). He gets out his phone.


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

John,

interesting performance with Osborne yesterday. I'm touched.

-Peter

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 04:28 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter waves one hand dismissively.*

Sacrifices must be made in order for progress to occur.

...I had planned to be there when Oliver opens his presents, if only for the novelty of seeing it happen on the correct day. Provided Order is agreeable, then of course I can bring Jack along too.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 04:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John takes a sip from his tea to hide his "Communist" remark.*

Order will be fine as long as she doesn't have to share her favourite spot on the window seat. The more the merrier for Christmas.

*John picks up another letter, reads through it and winces. He makes a note on the pad of paper to forward that one to Vince at BIS.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 04:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*He sets his cup down, allowing himself to sink back further into the cushions. He relaxes- the adrenaline from his earlier encounter slowly ebbing away, leaving a strange sense of loss intermingled with relief. He watches John scribbling away- grey head occasionally bending closer to the pages to grasp some finer point, and feels his eyelids begin to droop.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 04:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*Freddie bounds into the room and onto Peter, knocking the man sideways into John. Started, John looks at the confused wizard.*

*To his credit, John blushes only slightly.*

If you want to read letters from my constituents so badly, Peter, all you have to do is ask.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 04:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
Huh?

*Peter scrabbles for a handhold on the back of the sofa, dragging himself off John and into an upright position.*

A little less enthusiasm next time, Freddie, if you don't mind.

*He rubs his eyes: whatever sustained him throughout that conversation has now almost entirely gone and he feels immoderately sleepy.*

If that was my aim, I'd simply stand for election.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 04:52 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
Against the Speaker? You're not as bad as Farage, are you, Peter?

*Even John can see Peter's getting sleepy.*

Coffee? Or perhaps heading home for an early night might be a better solution.

No, Freddie, I'm sure Uncle Peter doesn't want to stay for a sleepover tonight.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 04:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter gives John a glare at the comparison to UKIP*

....


Wash your mouth out.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 05:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John takes another sip of his tea.*

Terribly sorry, Peter. But at least it appears to have woken you up a tad.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 05:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*For lack of a better response, Peter harumphs and covertly elbows John in the ribs.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 05:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
What on ear-

...

*John attempts a glare in Peter's direction but, predictably, it fails. Instead, while Peter is busy answering a question from Freddie, John follow's Peter's lead and gently elbows him back, eyes not leaving a particularly repetitive letter about membership of the EU.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 05:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
Hmm?

*He turns his head, but John is apparently absorbed in his correspondence. Peter narrows his eyes, returns to answering Freddie's question, and then causes an icy breeze to hit the back of John's neck a few moments later.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 06:07 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John shivers at the hex. He glares at Peter but decides against throwing a spell back at the other wizard.*

*It's not long that Freddie starts asking how long it will be before dinner.*

Well, chicken nuggets take about 20 to 25 minutes in the over, give 5 minutes for the oven to heat up and that means dinner should be-

*John notices Peter's glare*

...or, alternatively, about the same amount of time for a take away?

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 06:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Peter nods absentmindedly.*

By the way, John, what is Sally getting as a tattoo?
Edited Date: 2012-12-12 06:13 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 06:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John gets up from the sofa to fetch the take away menus.*

You'll have to ask her about that, Peter.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 07:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
Good to know.

*John throws a copy of the menu at the sofa.*

Pick what you like, you two. I'll go and check with the others what they fancy.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 07:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Freddie and Peter deliberate a while over the selection, with Peter eventually choosing Freddie's second choice and solemnly promising to share.*
Edited Date: 2012-12-12 07:37 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 07:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*A list formulated and ordered, it is simply a matter of waiting until the delivery person arrives with the food.*

*When the buzzer goes, it is John who retrieves the meal, setting it out on plates and calling the house to order.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 09:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
*Aside from Freddie's decision halfway through the meal that he actually prefers Peter's food, and the subsequent swapping of plates, the meal passes uneventfully. So uneventfully that Peter finds it difficult to keep awake towards the end of the meal. By the time all but John (delegated to the dishwasher) have congregated in the living room afterwards, Peter's nearly snoozing. He tries to keep chatting, but eventually has to just nod along as the children and Sally tell him about their week. He forgets to ask about the tattoo.

The impact of John's (newly returned from the kitchen) weight on the sofa tips Peter from upright to diagonal and he ends up snoozing on the man's shoulder.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 09:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John turns to talk to Peter as he sits down, but just as he's about to move his head he feels a weight on his shoulder.*

...Peter?

*The slight snores indicate the man's sleeping state.*

...ah.

*He shushes the giggles from the children and Sally's calls for finding a camera then sets about trying to come up with a way to get Peter back to his bed.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 09:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] therealpm.livejournal.com
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 10:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thetwitterqueen.livejournal.com
Oh, damn it, where's my camera?

John, with the amount of time you two spend fighting, don't you want some blackmail material? Hold still while I go find my camera.

Oh, wait, mobiles do pictures, what am I thinking? Silly silly Sally.

Now I know he'd kill me if I put this picture up on Twitter, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I get it framed just for the family room...

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 10:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*John's end of the conversation is carried out in whispers so as not to wake the sleeping wizard.*

Sally -Sally, don't even think-

I don't need blackmail material!

Sally, there really isn't any-

*John winces as she takes a picture.*

That was completely unnecessary, I hope you realise.

*John scowls and tries to work out whether to wake the man up, leave him to sleep on the sofa or levitate him back through to his own home.*

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 10:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thetwitterqueen.livejournal.com
I can help carry him if you want. Poor love doesn't weigh much. We can put him in the guest room.

Or I can fetch a blanket and he can sleep here.

*The children go scampering off in search of a blanket. Sally seizes the moment.*

No, I know, you do your magic thing and snap your fingers or whatever and fetch a blanket and pillows here that way!

*She lowers her voice to purr in John's ear.*

I like the magic thing, it turns me on.
Edited Date: 2012-12-12 11:01 pm (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2012-12-12 11:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bamfbercow.livejournal.com
*Up until that last comment, John had thought that he'd worked out a plan. The final words throw him somewhat. It's rather awkward sitting on a sofa with one of your close friends sleeping on your shoulder while your wife whispers such things into your ear.*

I-I-I...

Jack! Someone will have to sort Jack out if we don't wake Peter up.

(no subject)

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