16 June 2017 @ 06:10 pm
 I married him.
15 June 2016 @ 06:52 am
 First to the new Lords' Speaker elected, one [personal profile] lord_fowler who will be taking up his new role in September. [personal profile] dasouzzle I am sure that you will be much missed by members of the other place and your continued support and expertise has been invaluable to me over the years that you have held the incredible post. Norman certainly has some very big boots to fill!

And second of all I do believe that we should all be congratulating [personal profile] therealpm on his new position also - that of Chancellor of Manchester Metropolitan University. 
Peter's new robes
Good luck trying to take the piss out of my official robes of state again, Peter - at least I don't wear a stupid hat...

Congratulations all round!
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## ######


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.


11 April 2014 @ 11:51 am

*John had considered texting Peter his apologies the previous evening, but had ultimately thought better of it. By the time Chris had left - after dinner and a number of Parliament stories to the children which had them drifting off to sleep suspiciously quickly - John had wanted nothing more than to climb in to bed and try to sleep. As such, John didn't get around to talking to Peter until the following morning.*

Text from 078## ######


Thank you for the tactful way you handled last night.

If you aren't busy any time soon, perhaps we could attempt to have that drink again?


*Not expecting a reply for a good few hours (if at all - Peter was in the habit of just appearing at John's home without warning from time to time), John got himself ready for work. Yesterday was a big day, for Nigel personally but also for a great deal of the man's colleagues as well. It was going to take a while to get past the lingering awkwardness.*

19 January 2014 @ 05:40 am
*John woke up, groggily yawning  rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked over to the alarm clock on his bedside table and saw the time was 5:30. Reminding himself that it was his birthday, John rolled over, preparing to go back to sleep. Just as he had made himself comfortable again, the events of the previous evening came back to him. There was a brief still moment as John mentally ran through the events at Peter's house and then after.*


*As quickly as he could, John sprang from the bed and dashed to the fireplace. Praying to Merlin that Peter was still asleep and hadn't seen the bottle, John ran through the fireplace and into Peter's livingroom. Thankfully, the bottle was still on the coffee table where he had left it. John grabbed the drink and turned to go back through the fireplace.*

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.

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## ######


Free for a drink later?

14 April 2013 @ 10:32 am
*John is busy reading through this morning's papers, the Andrew Marr Show in the background when there is a knock at the door. He groans, leaving the article about Sally's upcoming case on the table to go and answer the door.*

*When he opens the door he is surprised to find a surly Peter, still in his nightwear and flanked by two DEFRA agents, glaring at him.*

...Good morning, Peter. Gentlemen. To what do I owe this pleasure?
31 March 2013 @ 05:46 pm
*It is the morning after the night before and John knows he should have a hangover (Peter visited in the evening, of course John should have a hangover) but as John blearily blinks at the light streaming in through the curtains, he feels a strange lack of pounding in his head. After a sip of water, he's almost fine. A little tired, but fine. How on earth did he manage to avoid a hangover?*

*And then the memories start to come back. The evening had started so well, but then... but then...*

*Slowly the rest of the evening comes back to him. Sally had come home and the night had continued (once Sally herself had gone and had a word with Jemima which, according to her reports later that evening, was much more successful than John's attempts). The Bercow adults had been determined to cheer Peter up. From what John remembers, they were quite successful.*

*It's then that John recalls why he's only very slightly hungover - on a trip to get another bottle, Sally had insisted he switch to water. There had been a bit of a disagreement but he'd been persuaded in the end and a compromised reached; one more glass then water for the rest of the night. If John's memory serves correctly, Peter had not been made to agree to such an arrangement.*

*A groan in the bed next to him pulls John's thoughts away from last night and to this morning. He bids Sally a good morning, which is met with the usual demand for coffee. John quietly goes downstairs, puts the kettle on to boil and bread in the toaster. Armed with a pint of water, he goes off in search of their guest. John remembers Peter falling asleep on the sofa, but can't remember moving him upstairs to a bed, so he checks the livingroom first.*
02 March 2013 @ 10:11 am
*John isn't hung over at all - he simply wakes with a headache and a sore throat. He's perfectly able to keep down breakfast, and even manages to not wince at the bright kitchen lights and music on the radio the children insist they listen to before heading to school. In fact, the only reason John takes a Pep-Up potion is because he knows he's got a busy day ahead of him. Nothing to do with last night's drinking with Peter.*

*Sitting down at his desk, John tries to recall what happened last night. The fuses appear to be fixed, though he's sure he and Peter couldn't have done that. There are leftover pizza boxes and a fair few beer bottles in the rubbish, but John can't remember tidying them away. The deck of cards in his top draw jogs John's memory. He gets out his phone and with a smug grin, sends a text.*

Text from 078## ######


How are you this morning?


27 January 2013 @ 07:04 pm
*John is sitting on the edge of his seat. His hands are clasped in front of him and his eyes never look away from the screen on the other side of the room. A cold, forgotten mug of tea is by his feet. The biscuits, open and just waiting to be eaten, are completely ignored. There's no time for biscuits - the tennis is on.*

*If John were more self aware during his tennis binges, he'd realises he's making rather ridiculous noises quite frequently. He sucks in his breath every time there's a close shot, yells when he thinks the ball is out - no actual words, just a loud noise that those familiar with spectating tennis understand as the universal phrase for "Is it? Is it out? It can't be - umpire, is it? Is it?!". As it is, he's too engrossed in watching the sport to even pay attention to the other person in the room, let alone what sounds he's making.*

*He's paying so much attention to the television that he doesn't even remember that he's still in his clothes from last night, or that he's sitting on Peter's sofa, not his own. Sally had thrown him out for the night, declaring that she couldn't take any more of this tennis talk and that he could come back when he was capable of holding a conversation about anything else. He'd turned up at Peter's place that evening, sheepishly holding a sleeping bag, change of clothes and a bottle of wine. After the usual snarkiness, Peter had rolled his eyes and told John not to snore too loudly.*

*By the time Peter had come down in the morning, John was already awake, frantically checking the internet, his phone and the television all at once for any news about the tennis. He'd managed to find a live stream, thankfully, and The Machine was only too willing to help John find updates and commentaries from all over the digital world. The (miniscule) part of John's brain not focused on the tennis presumed it must be exciting for her to be so focused on real time events again - a practice for 2015, no doubt.*

*It didn't take long for John to be totally engrossed in the tennis, all thoughts of The Machine, Peter, Sally or anything else completely banished.*
Current Location: Peter's house
Current Mood: anxious
08 January 2013 @ 07:53 pm
*John groggily wakes up. He tries to open his eyes but the light hurts so he snaps them shut. It takes him a good ten minutes just to be able to half open one and check his surroundings. Judging by the gold and green he can see out of the corner of his eye, he’s in his living room. On the sofa. The thing weighing him down would indicate a heavy blanket of some sort.*


*He closes his eyes and tries to work out what happened the previous evening. The children had gone off to a friend’s house for a New Year’s sleepover so Sally had suggested a nice quiet adult evening in for the two of them. Naturally, that wasn’t what happened, and after Peter’s (eventual) arrival, the alcohol flowed rather more freely than planned. He can’t remember much after the fourth bottle was opened and he’s only a little better on what went before that point.*

*John drags himself into a sitting position and tries to summon a memory or two. Sally has suggested a game of Scrabble, a notion Peter quickly and firmly squashed. There had been an argument over music, as their usually was. John also remembers calling someone a “stupid curly haired anaemic vampire” and even hungover he knows who the description was aimed at. He groans again, and forces himself (past the empty bottles and stained glasses) to the kitchen to get a pint of water and some hangover cure potion.*

*There’s a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that he did something really wrong last night – a quiet dread that builds as his senses come back to him. He can’t quite work it out, but slowly an image forms in his mind. It’s Peter’s face. Looking, presumably, at John. And he’s… shocked? Horrified?*

Oh for Merlin’s sake…

*It takes a while but eventually John’s able to find his phone.*

Text from 078## ######


I have a feeling I need to apologise to you, but for what I am not entirely sure.



*Text sent, John slumps down into a chair and attempts to will his headache away.*
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.*
24 December 2012 @ 04:20 pm
*John rushes back from the Commons, starving. He knows the children will have eaten by now and that he’s missed dinner, so he’ll have to make do with whatever they’ve got in the fridge. By the time he gets back, John’s already planning a fry up. Upon opening the fridge door, however, it becomes clear that John will not be having any fried food.*


*They need to do the weekly shop – Sally’s been too caught up in the court case business to do it and John’s been up in the constituency, so there’s hardly anything in; a couple of eggs on the top shelf, some milk, a packet of “Turkey Ham” (whatever that is) and some cheese are the most appetising items in the fridge.*

*John sighs and picks up the “Turkey Ham”. He looks through the sauces – no cranberry. And it’s a sure bet that Sally forgot to order any when she did the Christmas shop online. He’ll have to fetch some while he thinks of it or they’ll have to go without on Christmas day and that simply will not do. He stuffs a slice of the turkey stuff into his mouth, then gets out his phone to call Peter’s mobile. With Sally out with her friends, John needs to ask someone what other little things they’ll need for Christmas lunch. Peter’s bound to know - besides, the man's going to be part of the day, he should have some sort of say in the menu.*

*John calls Peter’s mobile. It can’t connect.*

*Odd, thinks John. His phone is never normally switched off. John shrugs it off, assuming a dead battery. He tries the house phone instead. It can’t connect either.*

*John does not start worrying. The only reason attempts to get through to Peter’s house via the fireplace is to ask about Christmas food shopping, and not to check the other man is ok. He certainly doesn’t start to panic when the wards bounce him back onto his living room floor. Instead of worrying – he really does need help with this shopping list – he teleports over to Peter’s house and knocks on the door.*

Peter? Are you in?
18 December 2012 @ 10:46 am
Text from 078## ######


Free this evening? We need a chat.

16 November 2012 @ 11:38 am
Text from 078## ######


I am unsure where your sudden fascination with the state of my oral health has come from, but I assure you there is no need to keep telling me to floss!

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.
08 November 2012 @ 09:32 am
*John stumbles out of bed, Sally's sleepy moans of "coffeeeeeee" reminding him of his aim. She and the children had come back to London last night - thankfully, after the Viagra had worn off - and John and Sally had spent most of the night preparing for Freddie's birthday celebrations.*

*As he makes breakfast, he takes his phone off charge and texts Peter.*

Text from 078## ######


Freddie's birthday today - we're having a little party later and I'm sure he'd love for you to visit about 5 pm.

Further to that, this week's episode of Question Time looks promising: Damian Green, Chuka Umunna, Shirley Williams, Jane Moore and Professor David Blanchflower.

See you later.

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.*
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.