30 June 2015 @ 01:20 pm
 *The saddest part about packing away Sally's things wasn't so much the removal of the items themselves, or the memories they had evoked as John carefully put them in the box, but the dawning realisation that Sally had all but moved out of her own accord quite a while ago. When he'd gone to empty her wardrobe he'd found it empty bar an old dress he knew she hadn't worn in years and a jacket she'd never really liked. All her favourite mugs were already in the Battersea flat, as were her DVDs. When John had met Sally in the car park to hand over a few final things, there hadn't been much more than a tennis racquet, a few old photos and a book she'd left behind.*

*Walking back through Speaker's House John thought that it hardly looked different. A little bare, perhaps, but not compared to the emptiness John usually recognised once the Christmas decorations came down every year. Finding one of Sally's odd socks in the wash was more strange than it was sad. He found an empty box and put it in cupboard in the hallway; in the unlikely event that he found anything else of Sally's, at least he'd have somewhere out of sight to put it.*

*He sat down in his chair with a cup of tea, musing. It was probably a mistake to unexpectedly drop in on the All Party Parliamentary Group on Autism's meeting the previous evening but they seemed to take his comments in the spirit consciously intended. And the vultures of the press appear to have found another Westminster marriage falling apart to pick apart with glee.*

*Without thinking about it a great deal, he started to fiddle with his wedding ring. He found himself wondering if he should take it off. He dismissed the idea quickly - he was still married. If one is married, one wears one's wedding ring. To think otherwise is... well, it is disrespectful in the extreme. Besides, even if he did wish to remove it at any point, John's not sure he physically could; his physique has changed ever so slightly in the 13 years he and Sally had... have been married.*

*John take a sip of his tea and tries to move his thoughts on.*
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## ######


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

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?!"*
27 February 2013 @ 04:26 pm
If anyone should, for whatever reason, need me, I shall be valiantly attempting to hide myself from the world until such time as I see fit to reemerge into civilized society.

I am positive that you are all aware of my reasoning behind this decision, and as such I could be grateful if reminders of the incident would be kept to a minimum - ultimate to zero if at all possible.

26 December 2012 @ 09:56 am
*John and Sally are fast asleep, John snoring slightly. In her sleep Sally reaches out to nudge John and murmurs to indicate that he should probably roll over or get hit in the face with a pillow until he stops snoring. Ten years of marriage has taught John well and he quickly shifts his sleeping position until he is situated on his other side. Just as he settles down to go back to sleep the bedroom door bursts open and three children jump onto the bed. Freddie is yelling “He’s been! He’s been!” at the top of his voice, while Oliver is explaining all about the special present Father Christmas (actually John) left at the end of his bed. Jemima, meanwhile, is demanding to know when they can open the rest of the gifts.*

*It takes a while, but eventually the Bercow family are situated in the living room, Sally clutching a rather large mug of coffee and John already on his second cup of tea. Freddie and Oliver are distributing the presents to their owners with a pile by one end of the sofa for Peter. Jemima watches, making sure they don’t “accidentally” take one of her presents.*

*The presents are distributed by 7 o’clock. Slightly more awake, Sally and John manage to distract the children for another half an hour with various Christmas-related issues but by 7.30 they can put the inevitable off no longer. John picks up the phone and calls Peter.*
02 December 2012 @ 11:22 am
*With Sally back on twitter John thinks it can only be a matter of time before they have to downsize again to pay for legal fees. He hopes her return with distract from the blasted Private Eye parody account but doesn't hold out much hope. Instead, he focuses on flicking through the property pages of the newspapers in an attempt to find a new, cheaper home, should they need it.*

*A large box of Roses chocolates is empty on the table next to him, the colourful wrappers strewn all over the floor. John reaches for the new box of Celebrations as he turns the page.*
15 November 2012 @ 05:44 pm
*John and the children are on their way to see Peter and The Machine. With Sally busy talking to her lawyer, it seemed like a good idea to get out of the house and let her sort things out by herself. With a letter due soon, the more preparation, the better. John would offer to help, but he's spending most of his free time trying to convince large swathes of the media and population that he's not "a bully" who is "interfering" and "forcing people out" at all.*

*With all that happening at home, a nice little trip to see The Machine would hopefully distract the children and tire them out so John and Sally can get back to saving their reputations - and jobs.*

*Peter is waiting for them when they arrive. Freddie, as usual, run to greet Uncle Peter, while Oliver attempts to act cool. Jemima, meanwhile, seems to be fascinated with some part or other of The Machine and John has to carry her away from the buttons.*

Hello, Peter.
19 October 2012 @ 09:29 am
*John flicks through the papers downstairs while he tries to drink his coffee.*

*Damn the Telegraph all the way to Hades! he thinks. That is not and has never been my intention...*

*He rubs his eyes.*

*The story doesn't seem to be going to far at the moment - and no one bar a few unconnected users on Twitter are calling for his resignation, according to Sally - but... it's expenses. It's the whole reason he got the job in the first place! If there's one issue above all he has to seen to be perfectly clear on, it's this.*

*He takes another sip of his drink.*

*He was only doing what he thought was right - the original Ipsa report included information that could have resulted in the general public discovering the home addresses of Members of Parliament, something which is illegal. He sent a request to Ipsa to have that very specific information redacted, not to have the whole report pulled! And now he's the one being named with expenses fiddling and a cover up when he'd done nothing wrong.*

*John sighs. There's only one thing for it...*

*He refolds the papers, picks up a bunch of painkillers and leaves his coffee on the side to head down to Peter's cell. He places The Telegraph on Peter's bed, the page with his name, expenses and broken promises open on Peter's lap.*

I need your help, Peter.
05 October 2012 @ 10:23 am
*John grumbles in his sleep; there's something tickling his nose. He twitches. Still there.*

*John tries to roll over but one of his arms is trapped under the thing that's making his nose itch. The sunlight is streaming through a crack in the curtains and makes sure he can't get back to sleep. Sighing, John opens his eyes and tries to work out what was tickling his nose.*

*He turns.*

...Oh for Merlin's sake, not again...
05 September 2012 @ 05:52 am
*John awakens with a start. He hadn't slept well at all last night, falling asleep late and now waking up preposterously early. Next to him, Sally is fast asleep. Carefully, trying not to wake his wife, John climbs out of bed, puts on his slippers and makes his way to the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee.*

*There is a strange, nagging feeling - like he's forgetting something incredibly important - gnawing away at the back of his mind as he pours boiling water over instant coffee granules. He looks around the kitchen as he stirs in his milk. Did he forget to load the dishwasher? No, the blinking lights show that it's already run. He catches sight of one of Freddie's drawings stuck to the fridge with magnets. No, the children go back to school tomorrow, not today. Had he missed an important birthday, perhaps? Checking the calendar would be a wise move, he decides, and makes his way over to the notice board.*

*Despite it being the 5th of September, the calendar still shows August. John snorts - it shows just how organised the Bercow household it. He flips the page over.*

*In bright red ink, a star surrounds the date with the letters "DEFRA DAY" almost carved into the page.*

*John nearly drops his drink and curses under his breath.*

*He puts the mug down on the kitchen counter and runs to the pile of paperwork he got from DEFRA for Peter's continued containment. Thankfully, there is a summary page at the top. He scans through it, realising he has far more to do that he first thought. How had he got so complacent about this?*

*John knew the answer - because the werewolf in question was someone he considered a friend. Impartiality, John, remember? He nearly kicked himself in frustration.*

*He rereads the summary. The final bits of paperwork - a timetable for any additional guardians looking after the wolf in the owners absence, for example - should be quick and easy enough to do.*

*The collar on the other hand...*

*John recalls how positively Peter reacted to it the first time. There isn't enough time between now and the inspection to convince him to wear it, he frets. He'll try and argue the regulations with the inspectors which will more than likely result in him being dragged away to be... to be...

*There was nothing else for it. Peter may hate him in the short term - and quite possibly the long term as well - but if Peter wanted to remain alive and out of the hands of the werewolf experimentation team, then John'll have to get the collar on him somehow.*

*John grabs the collar from its bag and heads through the fireplace to Peter's cell.*
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...?
*John and Chris appear at Hyde Park, ready to hunt the wolf*

Where did you say the sighting was?
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?


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.


*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.*