bamfbercow
24 April 2014 @ 09:14 am
 
*John had spotted the package on the table as he'd stumbled through the flat to get the morning's round of coffee. He'd glanced at it, curious, but upon hearing the yells from his wife for breakfast too decided that discovering the contents could wait a while. It didn't look dangerous, after all. The morning routine remained uninterrupted by the mysterious package and it wasn't until later that John even remembered it's existence. He put down the piece he was penning for a local newspaper and went to investigate. The parcel itself was simply a brown box with a note affixed to the top. John read it and smiled.*

Replacements for those destroyed in The Incident. -P

*Ah yes, The Incident. Ever since Peter had taken it upon himself to teach the children how to play Fireflies, the Bercow household had been subject to periodic test of the fire alarm among other inconveniences (John was sure that it was simply a coincidence that his most colourful ties also happened to be the most flammable). The most recent of these upsets had been The Incident.*

*While John was busy being ridiculed in the usual manner by Sally and Peter, the children had been dashing about, playing with what all adults had assumed to be harmless sparks of light. It transpired, however, that Freddie's grasp on charms was somewhat more advanced than even John had thought, and that the child had been experimenting with some of the finer points of the spell. As Sally began to tell Peter the story of John's latest failures, Freddie had flung a charm over the coffee table at his sister. The modifications he had made to the fireball had turned it from a nearly weightless ball of light to something much harder and more difficult to control. As a result, the more sold ball crashed into every object on the table, smashing the mugs and table decorations to piece and sending the pile of magazines flying in all directions. Thankfully the ball missed hitting anyone and embedded itself in a wall until Freddie's concentration was broken and it disappeared altogether.*

*Despite what he'd said at the time, John hadn't actually expected Peter to pay for replacements, certainly not after the way the other man had stormed through the fireplace and ignored all of John's attempts to get in contact with him. The gift was a nice surprise.*

*John opened the box and looked down at the three mugs staring back at him. There was no doubting for whom each mug was intended.*

*Rolling his eyes, John reached for his phone and then went to put the kettle on.*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

Thank you for the mug. I shall let you know how well it compares once the current test of its abilities has reached a conclusion.

-John
 

 
 
 
 
bamfbercow
10 July 2013 @ 06:52 pm
 
*When Freddie first pointed it out to him, John didn't quite get what he was looking at - to him, the marks on the ground just looked like old grass in need of a bit of water. It wasn't until the child opened up some computer program or other and drew a few lines on top of the image that John realised what he was actually looking at.*

A summoning circle?!

Yes... w-well spotted, Freddie. Thank you.

*John wasn't entirely sure why but his first instinct was to yell at Peter. Remembering how well going with his instincts had served him in the past, John opted to text the Lord instead.*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

Have you got a minute? I need a second opinion on something and your expertise would be much appreciated.

-John
 
 
 
 
bamfbercow
23 April 2013 @ 07:46 pm
*It had been a long time since John had actually planned an act of revenge, but the events of the weekend had proved to be too tempting even for him. After the bee incident, John had gone home to his family, wanting to make sure he was back before they arrived. Delayed by traffic, it had taken them longer than they had thought it would to get home. In the spare time John, brain still reminding John that not only had Peter caused the incident but that he had been watching and record as John fled from the swam, had called up The Machine for a quick chat. Ever the politician, John had persuaded The Machine to switch off the automatic monitoring which watched every one of John's moves.*

*Intermittent signal and the now modern tradition of switching off one's phone during important meetings meant that for almost two days solid while in Plymouth, John was without a properly functioning mobile phone - he'd managed to stay in contact with Sally and the children via landline, and even then only just. As he approached London again at the end of his trip, he become keenly aware of reentering consistent mobile phone coverage as his phone began to buzz on the seat next to him (thank Merlin for the silent option!). When the phone stopped vibrating, he picked it up to scroll through the messages. Even by his standards there were a lot of missed texts. The majority were work-related, so he skipped over those, vowing to get back to them once he was in the office. A few were from Robert, commenting that he'd felt quite odd since the funeral and could John think of a reason why. The rest - quite a few of them - were from Peter.*

*John began to read through them. There were a number of invitations to watch the next episode of Question Time together, some even with the offer of Peter's wine cellar. A few were general inquiries regarding John's whereabouts (the tone shifting from mild curiosity to what, if John didn't know Peter better, one could almost assume was worry) and the rest were a combination of insults and updates regarding the Westminster village. John couldn't help but smirk - if going AWOL for a weekend provoked this sort of reaction from Peter, John would have to try it again in the near future.*

*When John had returned to work the next day, he went to see Robert in the hopes that whatever was bothering him would have now passed. Instead, after only a short conversation, it became clear to John that some sort of magic was at play. Whenever Robert attempted to talk about the details of the funeral, he voice would fall silent; he couldn't talk about it. Even topics only tangentially related to the funeral (the guests in attendance, for instance) caused Robert to cut out. It didn't take long for John to put two and two together.*

*Deciding that killing two birds with one stone was a good plan, John bid Robert goodbye, vowing he would get to the bottom of the situation, and texted Peter.*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

Free for a drink later?

-John
 
 
 
 
bamfbercow
22 April 2013 @ 06:55 pm
*After the fire and powercut earlier, John had been hoping to be able to have a relaxing evening at home after a hard day's work. Worn out form his long day and wanting nothing more than to slip into a comfortable jumper and jean ensemble then sit down with a well earned cup of tea, John didn't notice the slight humming sound coming from his wardrobe. Nor did he notice the war Order scampered away as fast as she could upon discovering the noise.*

*The moment John realised his wardrobe was full of bees was the moment he opened the door and a wave of them came rushing towards him.*

*At first John was simply taken aback by the discovery of a great number of somethings hiding in his bedroom furniture, but when it dawned on him that those somethings were in fact bees, he ran as fast as he could away from the room, screaming. He didn't stop - screaming or running - until he'd made his way to the utility room at the other end of the Speaker's House, slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.*

*John began trying to think up a plan as he attempted to bring his breathing back under control, but all his mind supplied him with was "OhMerlinOhMerlin! Why are there bees in my wardrobe?!"*
 
 
 
 
bamfbercow
05 November 2012 @ 08:42 am
*It's 7 am and John is already awake, making breakfast. After an evening of thinking up pranks - and enlisting the children to help with ideas - John had settled on a simple, yet irritating one to begin with. Nothing as horrific as what Peter had done, of course (he wasn't that mean) but enough to let the other man know the war had started. It had also required the children's help to prepare and execute his plan.*

*John poured the boiling water over the teabag in the mug and smirked. Peter should be waking up soon, and then he'll discover that he's not the only one who can come up with a prank.*
 
 
bamfbercow
02 September 2012 @ 08:30 pm
*Now back in his office with a large mug of tea and enough mugs, John sends a text to his deputies*

Text from 078## ######

Dear all,

I am calling an emergency meeting in my office. Now.

-John
 
 
bamfbercow
02 September 2012 @ 02:29 pm
*Having left Peter to his private phone call, John goes through the fireplace and arrives back in his living room. He really should call Frances and try and get this paperwork sorted. He goes through to his study and picks up the house phone. Without the contacts list in his mobile phone, John has no idea what numbers to dial.*

*Thankfully, the paper index is sitting right next to him. He flicks through it and finds D'Souzza's number.*

*He dials and waits for her to pick up.*

Good morning, Frances, John here. I hope I didn't wake you...?
 
 
bamfbercow
*John and Chris appear at Hyde Park, ready to hunt the wolf*

Where did you say the sighting was?
 
 
bamfbercow
31 August 2012 @ 02:43 pm

Text from 078## ######

I am not sure if my last message failed to get through, or if, perhaps, I did not make myself clear enough. As such, I will restate the message in language that is easier to understand...

Witches and Wizards of Westminster:

There is a werewolf in London. I repeat, there is a werewolf in London.

Meeting in Speaker's House as soon as possible. Get here now.

Is that clear enough, for you?

-John

 
 
bamfbercow
31 August 2012 @ 10:34 am
*John is woken by his phone buzzing next to his ear. Having had it switched off for most of the holiday, he is unused to the alarm and nearly falls out of bed. He checks the message. Peter's fine, it would seem, if a little grumpy, but interior decoration does that on occasion.*

*John stretches and tries not to wake Sally up as he gets out of bed. A cup of tea later and John is sitting, typing away at the laptop Sally left open and on - even in her sleep she can't stand her infernal gadgets being switched off - to get the day's news. He looks up what happened regarding the situation in Regent's Park the previous night.*

*The details are few and far between but John gets the gist of the story - a wolf (a giant one in some interpretations) attacked two people in the Park. Both are hospitalized and the outlook is bleak. John reads the details of the injuries. An expert on wild animal attacks he is not, but even to him the list of broken bones and bashed-in skulls seem too much for a lone wolf. A bear, perhaps, but not a wolf. Unless it was a very large wolf.*

A large wolf... a large wolf...

*Suddenly, a thought strikes him.*

No. No, it couldn't possibly... that's ridiculous, John. There haven't been wild werewolves in London for decades.

*John tries to put the thought to the back of his mind. He opens up the BBCNews website and a particular story grabs his interest.*

A fire? Most odd... I shall have to speak to Black Rod when I get back...

*Despite trying his best to ignore the growing feeling of unease by distracting himself with the news items of less immediate importance, John cannot resist testing his theory. A quick Google search shows him the phases of the moon. Tonight is the full moon. All of a sudden, things seem a lot more serious.*

Oh dear...

*He quickly grabs his phone and sends a text to every witch and wizard he has in his contact book.*

Text from 078## ######

Arriving back from holiday later today and request an urgent meeting with all magical folk in or able to get back to London this morning. Preliminary research has indicated the possibility of a lycanthropic outbreak in the city.

-John

*The message sent, John hurriedly sets about packing his things away and getting ready to head back to London by himself. If there really is a werewolf running around London he doesn't want his family anywhere near the city.*
 
 
bamfbercow
26 June 2012 @ 09:51 am
*John drives the children to school and drops them off. The children can tell he isn't very happy and make sure to cuddle him extra hard when they get out of the card which only serves to make John feel even guiltier. He catches sight of a second-hand book shop across the road and has an idea.*

*John gets back in the car and drives to the part of London where the majority of the magical stores are located. He parks and rushes to an old bookshop he knows is full of very expensive, very old books. After a brief chat with the shop owner wherein John explains what he's trying to find, a very large, very old, very dusty potions book is brought out of an locked display case. John flicks through it - the illustrations are glorious and the book itself is in rather good condition for its ages, even if some of the leather hardback cover is broken and faded. John buys the book, inwardly wincing at the price but handing over the full amount as well as a tip for the shop owner for helping out to swiftly. John returns to the car, book in a large brown paper bag, and drives back to Westminster.*

*On the way back he stops at stationary shop nearby and picks up a card. When he arrives home, John writes what is for him a very succinct apology - making it clear that the apology comes from him in a personal capacity and not in his role as Speaker - and puts the card in the envelope. John then takes the book out of the bag and arranges the envelope on top of it.*

Hmmm... still not quite right... There's got to be something else I can...

*A thought strikes. John rushes downstairs to the parliamentary wine cellar. Having no idea which wine to pick, he scurries through the rows and rows of bottles to find the one that looks to be the most expensive. John picks one and returns to his living room. He rearranges his gift again until he is happy with the composition. Then John transports it to Peter's house, hoping he hasn't upped the wards to immediately incinerate anything with John's magical signature on it.*
 
 
bamfbercow
22 May 2012 @ 04:19 pm
*As soon as Bercow finishes in the chamber, he makes his way back to the flat, nodding at the relevant officials on his way*

Come on, John...

*John gets back to the flat and locates the brooms before the children arrive home. He puts the brooms against the wall, deflecting their questions and sorts out dinner. Once they have all eaten and talked about their day, John sends them to their rooms to sort out homework. John returns to the kitchen, washes up and puts the kettle on.*

Text from 078## ######

Peter,

Dinner is complete and the children sorted if you wish to engage in your first refreshers lesson.

-John
 
 
 
bamfbercow
21 April 2012 @ 04:49 pm
Yes, boys, we will go flying soon - we just need to wait for Uncle Peter to get here.

Because, Freddie, it would be impossible for me to keep an eye on both of you by myself.

...Yes, Oliver, I do need Uncle Peter's help this time, and I'll thank you not to tell him that when he arrives.
 
 
bamfbercow
25 October 2011 @ 07:49 pm
You bastard!

Fix this at once!
 
 
bamfbercow
05 September 2011 @ 09:22 am
Peter,

My wife is parading round on a television show despite my best efforts, and given that it's the first day back I need you to look after the children. Oh, and by the way, Freddie's turned into a fox and is hiding under the car.

John
 
 
bamfbercow
14 April 2011 @ 06:50 pm
It is utterly ridiculous; the council won't close off the road for a Royal Wedding street party! The local people want one, it would be a fantastic opportunity to bring the members of the community together and, above all, it would more than likely be an absolutely splendid time. They just don't seem to get it. Meldrew, damn it, I said Victor Meldrew; my accent isn't that difficult to understand!

In other news, it has emerged that Quentin Letts does not approve of the biography - hardly exciting or unexpected given the balanced view the book took overall. What is rather disconcerting, however, is the simple fact that he wishes to know what I wear at the weekends and is rather disappointed that such information isn't contained within the book's pages. Odd fellow, that Mr Letts.

And for crying out loud, those books do not promote magic, even if such a thing were possible! I'm sure Gove never had access to the works of JK Rowling as a small child, yet he still seems to think it is feasible that he one day will possess magic ability.

...No, Sally, I cannot 'get you a ticket to see Obama'; it is an official address to both Houses and try as hard as you might, you simply are not a Member of Parl-

What do you mean 'relegated to the sofa'?!
 
 
Current Mood: irritated
 
 
bamfbercow
23 March 2011 @ 02:09 pm
The book has turned up. Time to go through the blasted thing and correct all that's wrong with it, I think.
 
 
bamfbercow
12 March 2011 @ 05:21 pm
P,
 
On the way back from buying Freddie his first broom (no matter how hard I tried, he still chose the 'Falcon over the 'Storm - children these days!) I saw this and, for some reason, thought of you.

Talk to you when you get back from wherever it is you've run off too.

J.

P.S. While I couldn't possibly condone accidentally or 'accidentally' granting sentience to your creations, I have to say The Machine is far more polite than I dared hope it would be, given that it was made by you. J.
 
 
bamfbercow
04 March 2011 @ 10:03 pm
If I catch anyone humming a certain song, I can assure you I will be most displeased. Peter, I'm looking at you in particular, since I know you're so fond of said song and even occasionally sing your own version of it.

Not. A. Peep. Got it?