The Week After- Part The Second
May. 1st, 2009 09:27 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Title: The Week After
Chapter: 2 of 3
Pairing: Implied het.
Rating: This chapter remains firmly PG. PG-13 overall.
Words: 1054
Summary: Whereupon Miss Larken is met, Bertie leaves, and Becker gets upset.
Disclaimer: Alas, Jeeves, Bertie, Aunt Agatha, and any characters/situations/misc. created by Wodehouse are not mine, and if they ever are, Gawd help us all. Erin Larken and Becker, however, are mine.
A/N: This story takes place after the events of Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves and contains spoilers for...well, the entire book. This part unbeated. Feedback of all forms is adored.
Part The First
My heart, unsurprisingly, was low the next morn., and I dressed and rose to leave for Aunt Agatha's with, as mentioned previously, the joie having certainly sprung from my vivre. Quite low, if you catch my drift. There was no song to be had as I made my way to her townhouse, and I entered her homestead with the sense of a man walking to the gallows. Aunt Agatha introduced me to the lady, a tall, striking girl by the name of Erin Larken, who, it seemed, had just arrived back to her natal lands after spending some time in America.
Shockingly, Miss Larken and I seemed to hit it off all right, owing to our mutual experiences living in the US of A, and I was surprised at how... normal the girl seemed. After a succession of girls that seemed dewy-eyed or who were set on making me their pet project, it was refreshing to be around one who wasn't prepared to spout folks songs at me or shove Spinoza into my hands. Aunt Agatha had the expression of a cat who has just gotten the canary, so to speak, as Miss Larken and I agreed to a stroll.
And so we spent a pleasurable hour or two stretching our legs about the park, Erin and I exchanging tales of our youths. I daresay I fought back a shudder as Erin bested every one of my own youthful pranks with one of her one, which recalled the memory of speaking at a girls' school and the great capacity for evil in young girls. Nevertheless, we had a good time, and I saw her again over the next days.
---
With all the chumminess that had arisen between myself and Erin, I saw no problem in inviting her 'round for a spot of lunch one day. Despite the continued absence of that paragon of paragons, I felt rather jolly. But, as often happens when a bird believes the l. is on the thorn and the s. is on the wing, life came along to biff me over the head.
Erin came over for lunch, and we had a corking good time chatting whilst we dug into what I must admit was dashed toothsome fare from Becker. The stuff to give the troops and whatnot. It wasn't until Becker summoned me to a phone call that all the trouble really got going. The call was n. of i., just Tuppy asking if I'd be by at the Drones that evening, it was what went on when I hung up that confused me.
Now, we Woosters aren't taken to eavesdropping, that being quite against the Code of the Woosters and all, but by the racket Erin and Becker were making in the other room, I should think it could hardly be considered snooping. Although I was on the other side of the door, the conversation seemed to run something like this:
Erin: "...can't believe you would have the bally nerve to follow me back to Blighty after what you did! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Charlie!"
Becker: "Now, I say, Erin, I did nothing of the sort! I came home to get away from you, not to have such things shouted in my face!" There was a scraping of a chair, here, presumably Erin standing to leave.
E: "Well, you should go enjoy your life, then, because you've certainly ruined mine."
I heard the front door slam shut then, and as I entered the room, was surprised by the stricken look on Becker's face. While a slightly more expressive man than Jeeves, Becker had seemed to me to be calm as a cucumber in most circs., but now he looked as though...well, as though someone had just broken his heart.
"I apologize profusely, sir, for my behavior." The chappie was clearly unraveled, though still enough of a valet to begin clearing the dishes. I stilled his movements with a hand.
"Nonsense, Becker, you don't seem to have done anything wrong, though perhaps an explanation is in order, wot?" This seemed to make the poor fellow even more upset, as he began to run his hands through his hair.
"Erm, well," I said, feeling rather awkward, "Perhaps you should take the night off and sort yourself together."
"No, sir, though I thank you for the offer." There was one of those long, awkward pauses, the sort that usually only occur when one is in a drawing room with Spode or the likes, and I seized the moment to return to my chair, eyeing Becker as he remained upright, running his hands through his hair again. I was beginning to think I would have to break the silence myself when he took a shaky breath, not at all unlike a man about to leap into a pool of sharks, and spoke.
"I feel, sir, that I must explain what has gone on. Erin, that is to say, Miss Larken, was a childhood friend of mine, sir. My father served her father, and when Mr. Larken moved to America after the war, our families followed. After a time, the softer emotions revealed themselves to myself and Miss Larken, and we were engaged to be married." My eyebrows, along with the rest of my face, did some corking acrobatics at this juncture, and Becker paused, taking in my reaction.
"I apologize, sir, if my speaking of my personal life is unseemly of me." I shook my head in the negative, and he plunged on.
"We had a falling out, sir, and our engagement was ended. I left for England to find work as a valet, assuming that Miss Larken would remain with her family overseas, but as you can see, sir..." The stricken look on poor Becker's face was enough to make a strong man feel sorry for the chap, and I poured a drink for him, figuring he needed a restorative after that sort of thing. Becker thanked me, and drank it like a drowning man would a thingummy.
After a few more of those dashed awkward moments, I finally convinced Becker to take the night off, which he seemed to spend in his quarters, presumably eyeing a picture of the girl in question. I departed for the Drones, feeling that the johnny deserved some time to himself.
Chapter: 2 of 3
Pairing: Implied het.
Rating: This chapter remains firmly PG. PG-13 overall.
Words: 1054
Summary: Whereupon Miss Larken is met, Bertie leaves, and Becker gets upset.
Disclaimer: Alas, Jeeves, Bertie, Aunt Agatha, and any characters/situations/misc. created by Wodehouse are not mine, and if they ever are, Gawd help us all. Erin Larken and Becker, however, are mine.
A/N: This story takes place after the events of Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves and contains spoilers for...well, the entire book. This part unbeated. Feedback of all forms is adored.
Part The First
My heart, unsurprisingly, was low the next morn., and I dressed and rose to leave for Aunt Agatha's with, as mentioned previously, the joie having certainly sprung from my vivre. Quite low, if you catch my drift. There was no song to be had as I made my way to her townhouse, and I entered her homestead with the sense of a man walking to the gallows. Aunt Agatha introduced me to the lady, a tall, striking girl by the name of Erin Larken, who, it seemed, had just arrived back to her natal lands after spending some time in America.
Shockingly, Miss Larken and I seemed to hit it off all right, owing to our mutual experiences living in the US of A, and I was surprised at how... normal the girl seemed. After a succession of girls that seemed dewy-eyed or who were set on making me their pet project, it was refreshing to be around one who wasn't prepared to spout folks songs at me or shove Spinoza into my hands. Aunt Agatha had the expression of a cat who has just gotten the canary, so to speak, as Miss Larken and I agreed to a stroll.
And so we spent a pleasurable hour or two stretching our legs about the park, Erin and I exchanging tales of our youths. I daresay I fought back a shudder as Erin bested every one of my own youthful pranks with one of her one, which recalled the memory of speaking at a girls' school and the great capacity for evil in young girls. Nevertheless, we had a good time, and I saw her again over the next days.
---
With all the chumminess that had arisen between myself and Erin, I saw no problem in inviting her 'round for a spot of lunch one day. Despite the continued absence of that paragon of paragons, I felt rather jolly. But, as often happens when a bird believes the l. is on the thorn and the s. is on the wing, life came along to biff me over the head.
Erin came over for lunch, and we had a corking good time chatting whilst we dug into what I must admit was dashed toothsome fare from Becker. The stuff to give the troops and whatnot. It wasn't until Becker summoned me to a phone call that all the trouble really got going. The call was n. of i., just Tuppy asking if I'd be by at the Drones that evening, it was what went on when I hung up that confused me.
Now, we Woosters aren't taken to eavesdropping, that being quite against the Code of the Woosters and all, but by the racket Erin and Becker were making in the other room, I should think it could hardly be considered snooping. Although I was on the other side of the door, the conversation seemed to run something like this:
Erin: "...can't believe you would have the bally nerve to follow me back to Blighty after what you did! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Charlie!"
Becker: "Now, I say, Erin, I did nothing of the sort! I came home to get away from you, not to have such things shouted in my face!" There was a scraping of a chair, here, presumably Erin standing to leave.
E: "Well, you should go enjoy your life, then, because you've certainly ruined mine."
I heard the front door slam shut then, and as I entered the room, was surprised by the stricken look on Becker's face. While a slightly more expressive man than Jeeves, Becker had seemed to me to be calm as a cucumber in most circs., but now he looked as though...well, as though someone had just broken his heart.
"I apologize profusely, sir, for my behavior." The chappie was clearly unraveled, though still enough of a valet to begin clearing the dishes. I stilled his movements with a hand.
"Nonsense, Becker, you don't seem to have done anything wrong, though perhaps an explanation is in order, wot?" This seemed to make the poor fellow even more upset, as he began to run his hands through his hair.
"Erm, well," I said, feeling rather awkward, "Perhaps you should take the night off and sort yourself together."
"No, sir, though I thank you for the offer." There was one of those long, awkward pauses, the sort that usually only occur when one is in a drawing room with Spode or the likes, and I seized the moment to return to my chair, eyeing Becker as he remained upright, running his hands through his hair again. I was beginning to think I would have to break the silence myself when he took a shaky breath, not at all unlike a man about to leap into a pool of sharks, and spoke.
"I feel, sir, that I must explain what has gone on. Erin, that is to say, Miss Larken, was a childhood friend of mine, sir. My father served her father, and when Mr. Larken moved to America after the war, our families followed. After a time, the softer emotions revealed themselves to myself and Miss Larken, and we were engaged to be married." My eyebrows, along with the rest of my face, did some corking acrobatics at this juncture, and Becker paused, taking in my reaction.
"I apologize, sir, if my speaking of my personal life is unseemly of me." I shook my head in the negative, and he plunged on.
"We had a falling out, sir, and our engagement was ended. I left for England to find work as a valet, assuming that Miss Larken would remain with her family overseas, but as you can see, sir..." The stricken look on poor Becker's face was enough to make a strong man feel sorry for the chap, and I poured a drink for him, figuring he needed a restorative after that sort of thing. Becker thanked me, and drank it like a drowning man would a thingummy.
After a few more of those dashed awkward moments, I finally convinced Becker to take the night off, which he seemed to spend in his quarters, presumably eyeing a picture of the girl in question. I departed for the Drones, feeling that the johnny deserved some time to himself.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-02 03:00 am (UTC)*reads*
Hmm, very interesting indeed! I like the tone of the story; you have the Wodehouse voice down really well. Poor Becker, though. Hope everything works out for him.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-02 04:06 am (UTC)I'm really glad the voice is working. I try hard to make Bertie sound like himself. :)