darker_london | Oh, Honestly! (Peter, Abby)

Peter was in his office, looking over the accounting reports Joe had sent him, and muttering to himself. Peter was no stranger to accounting reports. He was rather gifted at maths and he had often done the accounts for the little abbey school in Melk. He did, however, loathe accounting reports with the passion of a thousand burning suns...possible two thousand...so he was not entirely cheerful to be sifting through them.

Abby knocked on Peter's door and she poked her head into his office. "Hey there." She greeted him with a smile. "I hear Lydia's hair is now grape-flavoured?"

Peter looked up, pleased for a distraction. "Please, come in. Sit down. As for the hair, I think it's rather cute." Peter admitted. "It's not very Lydia-like, but the colour is quite endearing."

Abby was a psychiatrist, and it hadn't escaped her notice that things between Peter and Lydia had been slightly strained of late. She knew the hair was probably not just because Lydia was trying something new. There were, most likely, motivations behind it stemming from the fact that she was now a teenager who had more on her mind and plate than most 13-year-olds. "Is everything okay?" Abby asked carefully.

"It is now." Peter said, having no problem with admitting there had been issues to Abby of all people. Peter wasn't one to hide things...unless they involved his consumption of alcohol, and Abby was someone he trusted absolutely. "She was upset that I'm not immortal anymore. That she has to lose me. And I don't blame her for that in the least, poor thing. She said she was having problems telling me because she didn't want Thomas to think she wasn't happy he was here."

Abby leaned foward in her chair and she frowned cutely. "Oh, Lydia. At least she told you, even if it took purple hair to do so. She knows Thomas is the last person to hold someone's feelings against them, yes?"

"I made sure that was clear." Peter smiled. "We had a breakthrough and then talked more about it after dinner. She knows Thomas won't be upset with her. And she knows too that I won't leave her willingly. I never would. I think that's done a lot to smooth over any hurt feelings. I know she'll still be worried about it, but...I wish there was more I could do for that."

"Don't die." Said Abby helpfully. Peter had a habit of dying. Never permanently, but if he did it again, chances are this one would stick.

"That's my goal! No really, I put it on my Outlook Express list of things to do for 2008. And then I ticked the 'this process will repeat' box so it'll add it to 2009 too. See how technologically advanced I am!? If it's on the to do list, you have to achieve it."

Abby raised her eyebrows. "When you tick that little 'task completed' box on December 31st, will you remind me to tell you how dorky you are?"

"Sure thing." Peter winked.

"Good. Hey, speaking of dying, did you happen to see the lovely artwork Jillian provided the ground floor yesterday?"

"A..artwork?"

Abby pulled the paper out of her pocket and she spread it out in front of Peter. The drawing showed a stick figure with a scribble of messy hair on his head which hung from what appeared to be a tree. The stick figure had a noose around his neck. There were some lovely scribbles which Peter assumed were supposed to represent viscera, and a lovely little arrow to pointing to the figure which had Peter written behind it. "Just in case you couldn't tell the figure was you. Who else could it be with that hair." Abby mused.

Peter grabbed the drawing out of Abby's hands and he scoffed. "I am taller than this!" Was all he said.

"She drew you hanging from a tree with like...guts and stuff, half your staff saw it, and you're worried about proportions? Do you think this is a sign or a warning?!" Abby asked seriously.

"No." Peter shook his head. "I think she's bored. Well. She's bored and she hates me. So really, it's a sign of two things." Peter continued to stare at the drawing. He was starting to feel petty again. Damn that demon! "I am so going to draw a picture of her with her mother smacking her shapely arse."

"You're so mature, Peter Kemp." Abby said, looking highly amused.

"Bother me not, I need to sketch!" Peter located some scrap paper and he started to draw. His artistry skills were about as advanced as Jillian's seemed to be, as Liz had been the artist in the family. But that wasn't the point. He just felt like hitting back. In a way, it felt like bonding.

If you were very, very strange.

"You know...I'll just leave you to that." Abby said with a shake of her head. "If she does hang you from a tree for it, you won't be able to tick your task box."

"But at least I'm recycling!" Peter pointed at the scrap paper and he continued his drawing.

"An evironmentally friendly mental person. Fantastic." Abby reached out to ruffle Peter's hair.

"Gak!" Peter reached up to try to restore some semblence of control there, which was a lost cause anyway, while continuing to draw with his left hand.

"Bye, Peter." Abby drifted to the door.

"Mmm." Peter said in return. And then he giggled without looking up. Two hours later, he slid the drawing of Jillian and Mariette under the door, clearly labelled, with Mummy Dearest across the top.

Luckily for Peter, the drawing was intercepted by Rolf, and Jillian never saw it.