3rd Floor Common Room, Friday Afternoon

[lockestheway]

The problem about getting through your epic moment of revelation was that the time afterwards seemed a little... well, too slow. Peter was pretty good at dealing with the nitty-gritty dealings of day-to-day political life, don't get him wrong. He just missed the adrenaline rush.

Which somehow - through intensely convoluted logic that made perfect sense to Peter - meant that this was a perfect time to curl up on the common room sofa with a bucket of popcorn and a three-hour Bismarck biopic-slash-documentary (the producers hadn't been entirely sure which direction to fall in).

Now this was the life.

Sort of.

Maybe he should go back to his room and check his email.

[[ open ]]

Comments

[lockestheway]

Peter swung his feet onto the floor and got up. "Oh, honey," he said. "You still think you're worth my time, do you?"

[whenshewasnice]

Natalie rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively. "You just honey'd me," she said. "There was no need for me to listen beyond that."

[lockestheway]

Peter stepped in closer anyway, because that was like, tense. "Back off, Natalie. You don't understand anything."

... That made sense. Somewhere.

[whenshewasnice]

Natalie for one looked terribly impressed.

Oh, wait, no. Unimpressed.

"Nice use of emphasis for a silly statement."

[lockestheway]

Peter shook his head.

There was a moment of (completely incongruous) emotion on his face, but it was gone in a flash.

"Clear out," he said, stalking back to the couch. "I don't have the energy for this."

[whenshewasnice]

"Uh huh, aye aye, captain," Natalie drawled before drinking the last of her water in a big gulp. She'd be gone in a moment. "Talk to you about the important stuff once you're done being crazy."