The Week After- Part The Third
May. 4th, 2009 10:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ayamemishi.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
indeedsir_backupTitle: The Week After
Chapter: 3 of 4
Pairing: Implied het, sort-of-kind-of-maybe slash.
Rating: PG.
Words: 1141
Summary: Whereupon Miss Larken and Bertie have a chat, Becker departs, and Bertie cannot sleep.
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Bertie, Jeeves, Aunt Agatha, or any other characters/situations/misc created by Wodehouse, and anyone who thinks I do needs to pay a visit to Sir Roderick. I do, however, own Erin and Becker.
A/N: This story takes place after Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves, with the first part containing spoilers for the whole book. No betas were harmed in the making of this fic. Feedback of all forms is loved.
Part The First
Part The Second
The next day, I was quite startled when Erin called the house. Luckily for all involved, I answered the 'phone myself, sparing poor Becker any more trouble.
"Bertie, are you free this afternoon? I would like very much to speak with you." The thingummy in her voice awoke the preux chevalier in me, and I quickly made my way to her flat.
"Oh Bertie," she said in greeting, and I was struck with a rummy feeling that I often get when a girl starts to look soppily at me.
"I'm terribly sorry for what happened yesterday between myself and Cha-Becker," she was saying, though it was going in one ear and out the other, if you catch my drift. She gave a sigh, and I suspected a silence was about to settle in when suddenly she spoke once more.
"Bertie, I know that this is quite soon, but I feel that I can trust you. The fact is, I don't love you, dear, but I'm certain that I could grow to love you, with a little time..." I mean to say, what? I must've goggled at the girl, because she gave me an odd look before continuing.
"Well, you've been such a chum to me the past few days, and we have so much in common. Besides, your aunt seems quite set on matching us up..." The very thought of picking a bride with Aunt Agatha's approval- or even, if I'm to be honest, picking a bride at all- made the thought of going off my food sound rather appealing. But the Code of the Woosters was strict on these things, and I found myself nodding my assent, though Erin seemed to react with the same sad expression she had been wearing the whole time. I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but it was the work of a minute for me to realize she had the same look poor Becker had had the day before- that is, the look of someone whose heart's just broken.
---
My loyal readers may know me as a man for whom sleep comes easily, but that night it did not. I laid awake, my thoughts becoming more reflective than usual. The subject, perhaps unsurprisingly, was Jeeves. Certainly I had received perfect service from Becker, and the man had been nothing but unfailingly capable in his duties, but the fact remained that he was not Jeeves. Not that Becker could help that, of course, for only Jeeves could be his own highly capable, fish-consuming, fetching-his-master-out-of-the-soup self.
I found myself thinking back on the many times Jeeves has risen to any challenge, whether it be matrimony or the pinching of collectables, with nothing more than a polite cough and a "Indeed, sir." I certainly possessed a remarkable valet. And therein lied the problem, for it had already been over a week, and Jeeves had not yet returned to the Wooster bosom. Not, as I said, that Becker was doing anything wrong, but every day that Jeeves remained at Totleigh Towers was another day where I wallowed in my sorrow. After all, Jeeves was the perfect valet, and Gawd knows there were many about who'd be happy to have him in his employ, Sir Watkyn no exception.
Why then would Jeeves, who could have his pick of any employer, choose to return to Bertram Wooster, perceived kleptomaniac and considered mentally unstable by many of the older establishment? Why not choose a more retiring man, such as Sir Watkyn, a person who I'm certain required far less f. from s. than I. It was these thoughts that wracked the Wooster mind as I lay awake, and more besides. I began to realize what a bleak life lay ahead of me, with an impending marriage to Miss Larken on the horizon and a distinct lack of Jeeves.
---
I greeted the morning with an attitude highly similar to that of the previous night's, and it was with a low heart that I noticed a telegram on my breakfast tray. With breakfast turning to ashes in my mouth, I chose to bit the bullet and read it then.
"SORRY FOR THE DELAY SIR. ALL HAS GONE WELL, AM ARRIVING HOME AT 1 SIR.
-JEEVES"
Though I had started with little hope for the telegram, by the end I was nearly overcome with joy. With a renewed outlook on life, I finished my breakfast with zeal and, as I entered the living room, was greeted by the sight of Becker packing his things in preparation for his departure. As he finished, he seemed to finally take notice of me, grabbing his hat off the coat stand and tipping it to me.
"Mr. Wooster, you have been a pleasure to work for." I mumbled a 'you're welcome to the man, too excited over the thought of Jeeves' impending arrival to notice Becker was still standing there, his feet shifting nervously.
"Sir, as I am leaving your employment, may I be allowed speak freely with you for a moment?" I nodded, wondering what the young chappie could have to say. He gave me a sad look, the sort that makes strong men's lips wobble.
"Take great care of Erin. I'm certain you two shall be very happy," Before I could respond, Becker departed, and I quickly found myself standing before Jeeves, who seemed as stable and unchanged as ever. I realized, then and there, how much I needed the bloke, and perhaps a little bit of why I was so reluctant to be hitched, even to such a girl as Erin. It was quite the Soul's Awakening, what? I imagine I stared at him for quite some time, because it was his ever-polite cough that awoke me from my reverie.
"Hello there, Jeeves. Quite good to have you back in the old homestead," I said, feeling like an ass as I did so.
"Indeed, sir, I am happy to be back," spake that paragon, setting his bags down and moving to fix a drink, "I trust that all has gone well in my absence?"
"Actually, Jeeves..." I explained the whole rummy posish. to him, from meeting Erin Larken at Aunt Agatha's to the situation at lunch the day before last. He took it all in with that inscrutable air of his, though being well versed in Jeevesian expressions, I discerned the cogs moving about in his noggin.
"It appears that quite a state of affairs has risen, sir." I let out a sigh. Perhaps the problem had stumped even Jeeves.
"Yes, Jeeves, and I'm absolutely dashed as to what to do about it." I took the g. and t. he handed to me with a dejected air, but on catching that ever-knowing twinkle in his eye, I knew immediately that my valet had A Plan.
"Sir, I believe I can provide a favorable solution to this issue..."
A/N: You may have noticed in earlier parts that I said there would be three parts. As it turns out, there's going to be four. (I'm not cruel enough to cut it off right here!)
Chapter: 3 of 4
Pairing: Implied het, sort-of-kind-of-maybe slash.
Rating: PG.
Words: 1141
Summary: Whereupon Miss Larken and Bertie have a chat, Becker departs, and Bertie cannot sleep.
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Bertie, Jeeves, Aunt Agatha, or any other characters/situations/misc created by Wodehouse, and anyone who thinks I do needs to pay a visit to Sir Roderick. I do, however, own Erin and Becker.
A/N: This story takes place after Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves, with the first part containing spoilers for the whole book. No betas were harmed in the making of this fic. Feedback of all forms is loved.
Part The First
Part The Second
The next day, I was quite startled when Erin called the house. Luckily for all involved, I answered the 'phone myself, sparing poor Becker any more trouble.
"Bertie, are you free this afternoon? I would like very much to speak with you." The thingummy in her voice awoke the preux chevalier in me, and I quickly made my way to her flat.
"Oh Bertie," she said in greeting, and I was struck with a rummy feeling that I often get when a girl starts to look soppily at me.
"I'm terribly sorry for what happened yesterday between myself and Cha-Becker," she was saying, though it was going in one ear and out the other, if you catch my drift. She gave a sigh, and I suspected a silence was about to settle in when suddenly she spoke once more.
"Bertie, I know that this is quite soon, but I feel that I can trust you. The fact is, I don't love you, dear, but I'm certain that I could grow to love you, with a little time..." I mean to say, what? I must've goggled at the girl, because she gave me an odd look before continuing.
"Well, you've been such a chum to me the past few days, and we have so much in common. Besides, your aunt seems quite set on matching us up..." The very thought of picking a bride with Aunt Agatha's approval- or even, if I'm to be honest, picking a bride at all- made the thought of going off my food sound rather appealing. But the Code of the Woosters was strict on these things, and I found myself nodding my assent, though Erin seemed to react with the same sad expression she had been wearing the whole time. I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but it was the work of a minute for me to realize she had the same look poor Becker had had the day before- that is, the look of someone whose heart's just broken.
---
My loyal readers may know me as a man for whom sleep comes easily, but that night it did not. I laid awake, my thoughts becoming more reflective than usual. The subject, perhaps unsurprisingly, was Jeeves. Certainly I had received perfect service from Becker, and the man had been nothing but unfailingly capable in his duties, but the fact remained that he was not Jeeves. Not that Becker could help that, of course, for only Jeeves could be his own highly capable, fish-consuming, fetching-his-master-out-of-the-soup self.
I found myself thinking back on the many times Jeeves has risen to any challenge, whether it be matrimony or the pinching of collectables, with nothing more than a polite cough and a "Indeed, sir." I certainly possessed a remarkable valet. And therein lied the problem, for it had already been over a week, and Jeeves had not yet returned to the Wooster bosom. Not, as I said, that Becker was doing anything wrong, but every day that Jeeves remained at Totleigh Towers was another day where I wallowed in my sorrow. After all, Jeeves was the perfect valet, and Gawd knows there were many about who'd be happy to have him in his employ, Sir Watkyn no exception.
Why then would Jeeves, who could have his pick of any employer, choose to return to Bertram Wooster, perceived kleptomaniac and considered mentally unstable by many of the older establishment? Why not choose a more retiring man, such as Sir Watkyn, a person who I'm certain required far less f. from s. than I. It was these thoughts that wracked the Wooster mind as I lay awake, and more besides. I began to realize what a bleak life lay ahead of me, with an impending marriage to Miss Larken on the horizon and a distinct lack of Jeeves.
---
I greeted the morning with an attitude highly similar to that of the previous night's, and it was with a low heart that I noticed a telegram on my breakfast tray. With breakfast turning to ashes in my mouth, I chose to bit the bullet and read it then.
"SORRY FOR THE DELAY SIR. ALL HAS GONE WELL, AM ARRIVING HOME AT 1 SIR.
-JEEVES"
Though I had started with little hope for the telegram, by the end I was nearly overcome with joy. With a renewed outlook on life, I finished my breakfast with zeal and, as I entered the living room, was greeted by the sight of Becker packing his things in preparation for his departure. As he finished, he seemed to finally take notice of me, grabbing his hat off the coat stand and tipping it to me.
"Mr. Wooster, you have been a pleasure to work for." I mumbled a 'you're welcome to the man, too excited over the thought of Jeeves' impending arrival to notice Becker was still standing there, his feet shifting nervously.
"Sir, as I am leaving your employment, may I be allowed speak freely with you for a moment?" I nodded, wondering what the young chappie could have to say. He gave me a sad look, the sort that makes strong men's lips wobble.
"Take great care of Erin. I'm certain you two shall be very happy," Before I could respond, Becker departed, and I quickly found myself standing before Jeeves, who seemed as stable and unchanged as ever. I realized, then and there, how much I needed the bloke, and perhaps a little bit of why I was so reluctant to be hitched, even to such a girl as Erin. It was quite the Soul's Awakening, what? I imagine I stared at him for quite some time, because it was his ever-polite cough that awoke me from my reverie.
"Hello there, Jeeves. Quite good to have you back in the old homestead," I said, feeling like an ass as I did so.
"Indeed, sir, I am happy to be back," spake that paragon, setting his bags down and moving to fix a drink, "I trust that all has gone well in my absence?"
"Actually, Jeeves..." I explained the whole rummy posish. to him, from meeting Erin Larken at Aunt Agatha's to the situation at lunch the day before last. He took it all in with that inscrutable air of his, though being well versed in Jeevesian expressions, I discerned the cogs moving about in his noggin.
"It appears that quite a state of affairs has risen, sir." I let out a sigh. Perhaps the problem had stumped even Jeeves.
"Yes, Jeeves, and I'm absolutely dashed as to what to do about it." I took the g. and t. he handed to me with a dejected air, but on catching that ever-knowing twinkle in his eye, I knew immediately that my valet had A Plan.
"Sir, I believe I can provide a favorable solution to this issue..."
A/N: You may have noticed in earlier parts that I said there would be three parts. As it turns out, there's going to be four. (I'm not cruel enough to cut it off right here!)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}