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indeedsir_backupTitle: Jeeves and the Meddlesome Medium
Chapter: 2/?
Pairing: Jeeves/Wooster
Summary: See Chapter 1
Warnings: None
Chapter Rating: PG
There is a knocking on the skull… or at least it felt as though there was when I awoke the next morning. I almost thought to curse before realising my man Jeeves would surely be tapping me gently into a relaxed state of alertness, respectfully administering a morning restorative almost as smooth as his voice—though I dare say, his voice is much more enjoyable.
That is, when there’s one sounding.
Only one sounding.
But surely as I opened my eyes, I heard my man’s voice. “I hope he is awake—I do detest waking him when he is in poor spirits.”
The flood of memories of my engagement to Honoria rushed back, augmenting the headache tenfold. “Jeeves…” I mustered out, still not thinking to question who it was he was talking to. “I’m bally awake—awake and needing! Please, please, medicine, something! Soonish!”
But my man had already entered, with the anticipated and welcomed tray of m. r. a. a. s. a. h. v.
“Much obliged, Jeeves.” I gasped after taking a great slug and feeling immediate effects.
“Good morning, sir.” He said, and almost simultaneously, “It gets more and more difficult to keep a straight face when he does that.”
“What was that, Jeeves?” But his mouth hadn’t moved. I was hearing things, surely…
“I said, ‘Good morning, sir.’”
“Ah, yes, I… thought I heard something else…” I looked beyond him to the door, not wishing to hold his gaze too long. He spoke again, “I hope he is well… It would not do to postpone tonight’s affairs. Mr Fittleworth will only be at Ditteridge Hall for one night, unless he too can be delayed…”
“I say, Jeeves, Boko down at Ditteridge, eh? That’s a coincidence—aren’t I supposed to go to Ditteridge tonight? I was dreading that.”
Jeeves, it must be said, looked frightened out of his wits. By frightened out of his wits, I mean his eyebrows were fully raised, his eyes wide, and the voice said, “Surely he can not hear my… no, that is impossible. He must merely be…” “Yes, sir. Mr Fittleworth is expected at Ditteridge Hall this evening. I presume, if I may, sir, that he expressed this to you at some point last night?”
“Erm…” My God, I wasn’t hearing his voice; but the other option was impossible. I must very simply be going mad. “Erm, yes, he… he did, of course. Yes, I remember now, slapped me on the back and said ‘Bertie, old chum! Can’t wait for tomorrow! Going down to Ditteridge to see old Pop Glossop and Honoria!’ ‘Really, Boko?’ I said, for the night was young, ‘I’m going down to Ditteridge tomorrow as well!’”
His eyebrows relaxed, and the voice-that-was-not-Jeeves relaxed itself, “He is back to his usual self. Perhaps this morning’s restoration was too strong. I must watch myself more carefully; this sort of behaviour seems to worry him as much as…” “Indeed sir?” His real voice drowned himself out, and I found I’d been blithering away, wrapped in my own train of thought.
“Er… yes, Jeeves. Quite so. Just like that, it was.”
“Indeed, sir. I shall lay out your day’s attire, then, shall I, sir?”
“Ah, yes, Jeeves, carry on…” And he set about to my wardrobe. “Sir, if I may inquire…” “A perfect turn of events… it could all be sorted through much quicker if…” “..mention anything about Miss Glossop?” Dash it! I was missing things. If one voice would shut up—preferably the one in my head… surely, this was a dream. I must have eaten some bad meat at the club or tried some awful new cocktail.
“I beg your pardon, Jeeves?”
He stopped what he was doing, folded my trousers over his arm and asked, simply, “Sir, are you quite sure you are well this morning?”
“Well! Oh, yes, very well, very well indeed! Dandy! Bomps-a-daisy, that’s how I feel.
“Most disturbing…” His eyebrow’s inflection implied he’d much more meant what the voice in my head had said than the respectful “Very good, sir…” that came out of his lips.
“I just… ah… didn’t hear you, old thing.” I hid behind my teacup, trying to concentrate only on what my ears heard. “If you could, old thing, face me when you’re speaking. I seem to be having a bit of trouble…helps to see your lips moving, don’t you know.”
He turned on his heel, and the voice in my head was sharp with anxiety, “He’s going deaf. Lord, please, not that…” The imagined prayer was obscured with “I asked, sir, if Mr Fittleworth mentioned Miss Honoria Glossop at all in the events of last night?”
“He did not, Jeeves, that he did not… must have known how miserable I’d have been at her mention… and, ah… in case you’re wondering…”
My memory was beginning to clear ever the slightest—I remembered the lady in the alley, the silhouette that whispered to me, “You must not tell him what you hear.”
“Sir?”
“I’m ah, I’m not going deaf, old boy… just in case you were wondering… just a bit of a muddled head this morning is all.” He gave me another worried look, “All too possible he reached the same conclusion I had calculated. Surely, yes, that must be it…” And gave me a respectful nod, clearing his visage of the doubt that still lingered in… was this his mind? His foremost thoughts? His conscience?
I stepped out of bed and wandered over to where he stood, keen to understand what on God’s earth was doing this to me. More specifically, keen to understand what on God’s earth was being done to me.
“Jeeves, my man…” He seemed to move 180 degrees without taking a single step, as if rotating on some eerie pedestal. “Do you require any assistance, sir?” But no other voice…
“Ehm, what are you thinking about? If one may be so intrusive as to ask?” He gave me a slightly amused twitch of the lip, but the invisible embodiment of Jeeves said, “One wonders what goes through his mind… Mr Wooster is a dear man. His motives are innocent enough, I am sure.”
“Thinking, sir? Well, sir, I could not say. I am, I suppose, considering what thoughts you might have been having…”
“Oh indeed?”
“When you bought that outrageous green necktie I found in the wardrobe. Where did that come from?”
“I’d be ashamed of myself, if I were you, Jeeves! I’ll have you know dear cousin Angela gave it to me as a thank-you present for rescuing that kitten she took a shine to from certain death in the oak tree. You remember, Jeeves? Princess the pretty puss?”
He cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon, sir?”
“The necktie… you were asking what I was thinking when I procured the green tie in the wardrobe. Well, I’m telling you it was a gift from a dear relation and it’s to stay precisely where it is! Unless, of course, it’s around my neck, in which case it will be in a different place, but equally safe from your negligent ironing patterns or rabid dogs we may encounter. Understood, Jeeves?”
He had gone pale; the voice had been speaking at a rapid pace, but I had made out, “Surely he cannot know what I am thinking. It is impossible; but if he has, oh, how long have you? What do you know? How much do you know about me? How could you possibly… how could he possibly have kept me in his employ if… but of course he cannot. It is a moot point. But then…”
I gave my best shot at a smug smile. I may not be good at acting before a crowd, but I won over the judges at the audition for Brutus with ease, and Jeeves could be fooled if he had to. It thrilled some part of me; some horrible, sadistic part of me enjoyed holding this sort of power over him, of driving him into this nervousness. At the same time, I was somewhat disturbed—if I was getting ahead of him in our private life, how ever could he control our affairs? My affairs? How would he end my engagement to Honoria writhing and wrecking over whether or not I could hear his thoughts.
“Oh, yes, Jeeves. I knew it. I knew you’d inquire to that necktie. I saw the stuffed frog face, don’t think I didn’t! Not so quick to conceal now, are you, my man? That was the point of the whole question—what you were thinking about! And I knew it!” His face moved from slight distress, to slightly more obvious annoyance before taking on the aforementioned stuffed f. f.
Apparently, he enjoyed his secrecy and wall of inscrutability as much as I enjoyed tearing it down.
“I see, sir. Very clever. Commendable.”
“Yes, yes, alright Jeeves. I just like pushing your buttons a bit, my man.”
“With respect, sir,” he drew in a deep breath like the first icy wind preceding a freezing winter. “I am your valet. It is my duty to perform domestic tasks assigned to me, procure necessities, tend your financial and private affairs so far as is within our professional distance, and any other reasonable, lawful and predetermined requests determined within my contract of employment.” He paused, apparently to let all of this sink in. Due to the silence outside his spoken words, I supposed he was speaking his mind, for once. “It is not, however, in my contract of employment to be a plaything, to be manipulated, or to have my ‘buttons pushed’, as you put it, sir.” If Jeeves were a great Ring-necked Cobra, the sir would almost certainly have been one of those warning bites that spills drops venom on the ground.
“Now, if sir will excuse me, there are reasonable, lawful and predetermined requests determined within my contract of employment that I must attend to. If you’re finished with your game, sir, I should appreciate leave from your room. Your vestments are laid on the settee, sir. I shall return to run your bath momentarily, sir. Thank you, sir.”
I let him go, feeling a twinge of shame for abusing this power I’d reveled in a moment ago. Of course it wasn’t fair. Surely, this wasn’t what I was meant to do with my bequeathed abilities.
I closed the door behind Jeeves, intent on setting about undressing while he performed the tasks he’d been hired to do; and if, when the door was closed, I muttered an apology into its frame, what of it?
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Date: 2010-06-21 10:57 pm (UTC)eta: It's not a "mute" point, it's a "moot" point. Mute is unable to speak. Moot is a point that has no actual resolution or whose resolution is irrelevant.
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Date: 2010-06-22 12:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-21 11:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-22 01:53 pm (UTC)All to be neatly resolved soon enough. Hold on to your seatbelts and bear with me.
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Date: 2010-06-21 11:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-22 07:26 am (UTC)Any chance next chappie you could space out the paragraphs? The block makes it a little iffy on the eyes.
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Date: 2010-06-22 01:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-22 08:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-22 09:54 am (UTC)Perfectly written, I love the setup and can't wait to read more :))
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Date: 2010-06-22 01:41 pm (UTC)Thank you very much!
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Date: 2010-06-22 11:05 pm (UTC)2. I love this fic! Is there more? Of course there's more; you wouldn't end it like this, would you? *pleading eyes*
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Date: 2010-06-22 11:08 pm (UTC)YES I LIKE ALAN DAVIES LOTS.
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Date: 2010-06-23 02:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-23 05:28 am (UTC)I'll be checking three times a day (at least) for the next part.
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Date: 2010-06-23 06:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-23 07:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-23 05:13 pm (UTC)If you upload one today then I will too.. Promise :DD !!!!
Pleeaaaseeee?
xx