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indeedsir_backup2011-04-09 12:04 am
hazeltea.livejournal.com) wrote in indeedsir_backup2011-04-09 12:04 am
Fic: Redemption, part 23 (PG)
This has been rattling around in my brain since I read Yours, Plum: The Letters of P.G. Wodehouse a few years ago.I wanted to try continuing the 1953 fanfic by J. Maclaren-Ross , which was lovingly transcribed here by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chaoticchaos13
Pairing:Jeeves/Bertie
Disclaimer: I make no profit from the lovely world of Wodehouse.
Part 1: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/849688.html#cutid1
Part 2: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/851698.html#cutid1
Part 3: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/853433.html#cutid1
Part 4: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/854770.html#cutid1
Part 5: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/856387.html#cutid1
Part 6: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/861280.html#cutid1
Part 7: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/864721.html#cutid1
Part 8: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/867046.html#cutid1
Part 9: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/870100.html#cutid1
Part 10: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/871794.html#cutid1
Part 11: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/875432.html#cutid1
Part 12: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/876502.html#cutid1
Part 13: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/880681.html#cutid1
Part 14: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/881405.html#cutid1
Part 15: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/881540.html#cutid1
Part 16: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/890509.html#cutid1
Part 17: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/896757.html#cutid1
Part 18: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/899617.html#cutid1
Part 19: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/904805.html#cutid1
Part 20: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/913398.html#cutid1
Part 21: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/935186.html#cutid1
Part 22: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/939558.html#cutid1
I watched with giddy excitement as Jeeves unpacked the box containing the newest technological wonder- our very own television set. I’d seen them before, of course, in passing, but I must admit that I was bally well fascinated, all the same. The thing was a large, blocky cabinet of wood with a small screen embedded in its front. Two Bakelite dials adorned the body, and beneath, a drawer revealed a turntable and a wireless hidden inside. Tonight, we were going to watch Catsmeat in action, his performance transmitted across the city at lightning speed.
We turned the dials until images began to flicker across the screen, like a tiny film, but without any of the glamorous stars. Once Jeeves had selected the proper settings, we settled onto the chesterfield, where I tucked myself beneath his arm, resting comfortably against his chest.
“I am so very proud of him.” Jeeves mused. He had about him that look of accomplishment which makes a man’s eyes soft, and he grinned, just barely enough that only I might notice it.
I squeezed his hand. “I am, too.” I replied. “And- what’s more, you know, I’m proud of you, too. Amazed. He could have never come this far without you. Nor could I.”
“If not for his own will and perseverance, I could not have helped him.” He answered.
“You do help a lot of people though, don’t you. It suits you.” I shifted, so that I could look him in the eyes. “Like you did in the old days, what? We’d all be in the soup if not for the sheer power of your fish-fed brain. “ This did get a small smile from him, and I was pondering my next point when Catsmeat’s voice came across the wireless. Televisions use radio waves, don’t they? I mean to say, for all the bleakness in this new England, there are still things which are quite bright and exciting.
Catsmeat’s duty was to mingle with important people and grease the wheels of conversation. When a dull Lord was interviewed, he turned on the charisma and kept the audience from falling asleep. I had seen him perform in countless musical comedies, and I rather expected more of the same. I was surprised to find myself before a sophisticated Catsmeat, the tone of his voice as silvery as his image across the screen. Jeeves turned the dial once the program ended, and we gazed at each other fondly, savoring the success of a mutual friend.
“It couldn’t have been done without you, old thing. Take some credit.” I followed him to the kitchen, where he poured us each a bit of port to toast with.
“It does please me, sir.” He placed down his glass. “and yet…”
“What is it, then?” I pried.
“It isn’t the life I had planned for myself.” He fell silent for a moment, and then gave the illusion of a shrug, the faintest rustling of the shoulders. “No one is living the life they imagined, or course, so it feels… unseemly to feel regret and frustration. I only ever wanted to serve you, sir, since I first came to your employ. I had planned to die in harness. I’ve done my best for you, and yet… “
“We’re together, love. That’s enough. I don’t mind looking after you, God knows you’ve earned it after all you’ve ever done for me. Besides, all those chaps in the bin rely on you, and that makes you happy, doesn’t it? Just think about how you were smiling watching Catsmeat just now. That’s a reward for a job well done, what?”
He nodded, looking torn. “Sir…” he began, “I left you, and I continue to leave you every day, when I used to pray that if I ever made it home alive, I would devote my every moment to make up for what I had done. I would bargain in my prayers, and now I have defaulted. I know that when I departed, I acted with logic, sir, for I have a better brain than I do a heart. There are times I am almost content with my duties, until I remember that vow I made overseas, or …” he drew in a shuddering breath, “when I see you limp, or wince in pain. Then I cannot forgive myself, and I resolve to find another way to set things right.”
In all of our years together, I had never heard Jeeves’ voice crack, but just then it came bally close. He cleared his throat and took another sip of port.
There was no use in telling Jeeves that I wasn’t in pain, he certainly wasn’t an idiot. It was raining, and that always made me sore. This time of year I was rather prone to limp about more than usual. Instead, I refilled our glasses.
“I’m dreadfully proud of you, you know. I’m thankful, too, for what you did to help Catsmeat, and me, and all those other poor chaps at loose ends who would be locked up if not for your help. I miss how things used to be, too, you know… but maybe it won’t be all that bad. Just think of how rotten life was a year ago, and how it was twice as rotten a year before that, and so on. I don’t mind you leaving me, not when I know that you’re setting things right all over, not just between us. Besides, you do come back each night. You see, I don’t mind fixing your dinner, you know. It makes me feel like I’m doing my part as well. I mean to say, well… It’s all right, Jeeves.”
“It isn’t, sir, but you are exceedingly kind to say so.”
We sat in silence, the talk draining the life from us both. I wouldn’t press farther, neither of us had it in us that night. Instead, I took his hand into my own, and smiled at him until his eyes softened. “I feel like a song or two.” I said, changing the subject. “Shall you be my partner, or my audience?”
He agreed to join me, and we played for all we were worth, banishing the spirit of melancholy from the flat with major chords, at least for a time.
chaoticchaos13 Pairing:Jeeves/Bertie
Disclaimer: I make no profit from the lovely world of Wodehouse.
Part 1: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/849688.html#cutid1
Part 2: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/851698.html#cutid1
Part 3: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/853433.html#cutid1
Part 4: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/854770.html#cutid1
Part 5: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/856387.html#cutid1
Part 6: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/861280.html#cutid1
Part 7: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/864721.html#cutid1
Part 8: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/867046.html#cutid1
Part 9: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/870100.html#cutid1
Part 10: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/871794.html#cutid1
Part 11: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/875432.html#cutid1
Part 12: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/876502.html#cutid1
Part 13: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/880681.html#cutid1
Part 14: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/881405.html#cutid1
Part 15: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/881540.html#cutid1
Part 16: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/890509.html#cutid1
Part 17: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/896757.html#cutid1
Part 18: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/899617.html#cutid1
Part 19: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/904805.html#cutid1
Part 20: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/913398.html#cutid1
Part 21: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/935186.html#cutid1
Part 22: http://community.livejournal.com/indeedsir/939558.html#cutid1
I watched with giddy excitement as Jeeves unpacked the box containing the newest technological wonder- our very own television set. I’d seen them before, of course, in passing, but I must admit that I was bally well fascinated, all the same. The thing was a large, blocky cabinet of wood with a small screen embedded in its front. Two Bakelite dials adorned the body, and beneath, a drawer revealed a turntable and a wireless hidden inside. Tonight, we were going to watch Catsmeat in action, his performance transmitted across the city at lightning speed.
We turned the dials until images began to flicker across the screen, like a tiny film, but without any of the glamorous stars. Once Jeeves had selected the proper settings, we settled onto the chesterfield, where I tucked myself beneath his arm, resting comfortably against his chest.
“I am so very proud of him.” Jeeves mused. He had about him that look of accomplishment which makes a man’s eyes soft, and he grinned, just barely enough that only I might notice it.
I squeezed his hand. “I am, too.” I replied. “And- what’s more, you know, I’m proud of you, too. Amazed. He could have never come this far without you. Nor could I.”
“If not for his own will and perseverance, I could not have helped him.” He answered.
“You do help a lot of people though, don’t you. It suits you.” I shifted, so that I could look him in the eyes. “Like you did in the old days, what? We’d all be in the soup if not for the sheer power of your fish-fed brain. “ This did get a small smile from him, and I was pondering my next point when Catsmeat’s voice came across the wireless. Televisions use radio waves, don’t they? I mean to say, for all the bleakness in this new England, there are still things which are quite bright and exciting.
Catsmeat’s duty was to mingle with important people and grease the wheels of conversation. When a dull Lord was interviewed, he turned on the charisma and kept the audience from falling asleep. I had seen him perform in countless musical comedies, and I rather expected more of the same. I was surprised to find myself before a sophisticated Catsmeat, the tone of his voice as silvery as his image across the screen. Jeeves turned the dial once the program ended, and we gazed at each other fondly, savoring the success of a mutual friend.
“It couldn’t have been done without you, old thing. Take some credit.” I followed him to the kitchen, where he poured us each a bit of port to toast with.
“It does please me, sir.” He placed down his glass. “and yet…”
“What is it, then?” I pried.
“It isn’t the life I had planned for myself.” He fell silent for a moment, and then gave the illusion of a shrug, the faintest rustling of the shoulders. “No one is living the life they imagined, or course, so it feels… unseemly to feel regret and frustration. I only ever wanted to serve you, sir, since I first came to your employ. I had planned to die in harness. I’ve done my best for you, and yet… “
“We’re together, love. That’s enough. I don’t mind looking after you, God knows you’ve earned it after all you’ve ever done for me. Besides, all those chaps in the bin rely on you, and that makes you happy, doesn’t it? Just think about how you were smiling watching Catsmeat just now. That’s a reward for a job well done, what?”
He nodded, looking torn. “Sir…” he began, “I left you, and I continue to leave you every day, when I used to pray that if I ever made it home alive, I would devote my every moment to make up for what I had done. I would bargain in my prayers, and now I have defaulted. I know that when I departed, I acted with logic, sir, for I have a better brain than I do a heart. There are times I am almost content with my duties, until I remember that vow I made overseas, or …” he drew in a shuddering breath, “when I see you limp, or wince in pain. Then I cannot forgive myself, and I resolve to find another way to set things right.”
In all of our years together, I had never heard Jeeves’ voice crack, but just then it came bally close. He cleared his throat and took another sip of port.
There was no use in telling Jeeves that I wasn’t in pain, he certainly wasn’t an idiot. It was raining, and that always made me sore. This time of year I was rather prone to limp about more than usual. Instead, I refilled our glasses.
“I’m dreadfully proud of you, you know. I’m thankful, too, for what you did to help Catsmeat, and me, and all those other poor chaps at loose ends who would be locked up if not for your help. I miss how things used to be, too, you know… but maybe it won’t be all that bad. Just think of how rotten life was a year ago, and how it was twice as rotten a year before that, and so on. I don’t mind you leaving me, not when I know that you’re setting things right all over, not just between us. Besides, you do come back each night. You see, I don’t mind fixing your dinner, you know. It makes me feel like I’m doing my part as well. I mean to say, well… It’s all right, Jeeves.”
“It isn’t, sir, but you are exceedingly kind to say so.”
We sat in silence, the talk draining the life from us both. I wouldn’t press farther, neither of us had it in us that night. Instead, I took his hand into my own, and smiled at him until his eyes softened. “I feel like a song or two.” I said, changing the subject. “Shall you be my partner, or my audience?”
He agreed to join me, and we played for all we were worth, banishing the spirit of melancholy from the flat with major chords, at least for a time.
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I'm always thrilled to see more of this.
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You're developing them wonderfully! I am loving it so much!
*big, big smile*
<3
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I like how this is unfolding, m'dearie. I and others, we like it just fine.