Fanfiction: Jeeves & Wooster (G)
Title: Gentlemen's Agreement
Pairing/Characters: Reginald Jeeves; Bertie Wooster
Rating: G
Fandom: Jeeves and Wooster
Word Count: 1,348
Spoilers: None
Summary: Jeeves has a marvellous idea and Bertie heartily approves.
Notes/Warnings: I'm taking some literary license and assuming that Jeeves was born on May 25, 1895 and Bertie was born on November 30, 1900. The first was when Oscar Wilde was arrested and the second was when he died. Rather fitting, I'd say. The idea came from mechanicaljewel. Thanks to mylodon, zekkass, and krzcowzgomoo for beta-reading.
Gentlemen's Agreement
I have often wondered how I would get along without Jeeves. In fact, I sometimes wonder how on earth I got by without him in the first place. He is the best gentleman's personal gentleman a gentleman could ever hope to find, the brainiest cove I have ever met, and more dear to me than even my own sister.
I'd never meant to tell Jeeves that last bit because I was afraid that he would give notice if I did. Instead, I wrote it down to clarify matters to myself. I meant to destroy it right after, but Jeeves shimmered in to inform me that I had a visitor at that moment, so I bunged the paper into a drawer, fully intending to see to it later.
Jeeves had offered to type my memoirs for me and I was bally glad to let him, since the typewriter had proven to be a rather formidable --I think that's the right word; Jeeves would know-- foe for this Wooster. In any case, I quite forgot about that piece of paper for several weeks. When I finally remembered its existence and went searching for it to destroy it, I couldn't find the dratted thing! I may not be as brainy as Jeeves, but this Wooster is not as thick as some would have you believe. I figured out rather sharp-ish that it must have got amongst the papers for my latest memoir, which I'd put by the typewriter just that morning for Jeeves.
Knowing there was nothing else for it, I charged into Jeeves' lair. Much to my consul-- consti-- consternation, he'd already begun typing my memoir. Upon learning that he'd read the page I'd been so keen for him to NOT read, it felt as if my heart had dropped right down into my stomach. It leapt straight up into my throat when Jeeves told me that he loves me as well.
I won't relate what happened afterwards, being a preux chevalier and all that rot, but rest assured that both parties were bally well satisfied. This, of course, led to a change in certain...arrangements in the Wooster household that were imminently -- if that's right -- agreeable to all involved. I could not imagine being happier.
There was just one so-called fly in the ointment of our happiness: we couldn't marry. If we could, then all those pesky females who are so determined to attach the Wooster name to theirs would know that Bertram is no longer available to them. I said as much to Jeeves one evening after he'd rescued me from another attempt on Aunt Agatha's part to marry me off. "I say, Jeeves, it's a pity I can't marry you. That would put a stop to all these bally engagements."
"Indeed, it would, sir," Jeeves answered gravely, though the corner of his mouth just barely curled upward.
"Why would people object to my falling in love with you anyway? It's not like we'd be harming anyone."
"I could not say, sir. Society is rather close-minded when it comes to relations between grown men."
"They don't mind if boys do those sorts of things at school, though." I was speaking from experience just then.
"Only with the understanding that the boys in question give up such practices when they leave school, sir."
"Yes, that's true." I plunked a few moody keys on the piano. "I'd rather not give you up, Jeeves."
"Nor do I wish to give you up, sir." There was a note of tenderness in his voice that few beside myself would have been able to detect. "If I may make a suggestion, sir?"
"By all means, Jeeves, suggest away." By that time, I knew that whatever scheme Jeeves had thought up would work out marvellously in the end.
"Though we cannot marry each other, sir, we could enter what is commonly referred to as a gentlemen's agreement."
I stared at him for a few moments, trying to work out what he meant, but the old bean just could not follow. "I'm sorry, Jeeves, but I don't follow your meaning."
"By committing themselves to a gentlemen's agreement, sir, the two parties would be making the same vows that a husband and wife make to each other during the wedding ceremony."
"Not that I object to vowing to cleave unto you until death do us part and all, Jeeves, but I don't quite see the use. No one would know about the agreement except us."
"That is very true, sir, but it would be a reassurance to the two parties involved that none shall come between them." The look he gave me at this point in our discussion reminded me that a part of him still wondered if I would seek a more socially acceptable attachment in the future.
For that matter, I still wondered why he bothered to remain with me when he could be off running the kingdom if he really wanted. That's when the psychology of the individual struck: by making the vows, I would be reassuring Jeeves that I would never seek love in a female's arms and Jeeves would be reassuring me that he would never again seek to leave my service. "Jeeves," I breathed at last, turning an admiring gaze on him, "you are a marvel."
"Thank you, sir." Though his expression didn't change, I was pretty sure I saw relief flash in those marvellous eyes of his for a very brief moment. "May I presume, then, that you approve of the idea?"
"I bally well do, Jeeves." I beamed at him, bouncing up from the piano to reward him with a kiss. After a few minutes' delay, I rather breathlessly asked, "Do you need to make any sort of arrangements before we make these vows to each other?"
He gave the delicate cough that indicated he had another idea. "Yes, Jeeves, what is it?"
"If you would not object, sir, I believe it would be appropriate if we were to exchange tokens of some sort to symbolize the agreement."
"What, you mean like wedding rings?"
"One could look at them as such, yes, sir." The smile that curled the corner of his mouth had a somewhat regretful tinge to it this time. "Though it would not be wise to wear rings on the appropriate finger, as it would lead to uncomfortable questions."
"Too right." I agreed from the vicinity of Jeeves' neck, where I'd nestled my head so I could enjoy the comfort of his embrace as we talked. "I'll leave all the arrangements in your capable hands, Jeeves."
"Thank you, sir." I could feel his voice rumbling against my cheek and snuggled against him more fully. I smiled when his arms encircled me, quite content.
*
About a week later, we made our vows to each other, Jeeves' sister our only witness. She was the only person Jeeves trusted to keep our secret and I'm rather glad of it. There was something about having someone else there to witness our agreement that made it more real, more permanent. Not that I have any intention of going back on my word. A Wooster's word is his bond after all, but I suppose there's a reason so many people get invited to weddings.
As I stood before Jeeves and heard him promise in that low, calm voice that I loved so much to never leave me or forsake me, I confess that my limbs trembled and my eyes were suspiciously moist. My voice failed me when it was time for me to say the same. Then I looked up and met his eyes. In them, I could see how much he loved me and my voice came back to me.
As I solemnly swore to never leave or forsake Jeeves, I could almost swear that tears glimmered in his eyes. Once we'd made our promises to each other, we exchanged our rings and shared a soft kiss to seal our agreement. We would never be parted voluntarily from that day forward and I couldn't be happier.
End
Pairing/Characters: Reginald Jeeves; Bertie Wooster
Rating: G
Fandom: Jeeves and Wooster
Word Count: 1,348
Spoilers: None
Summary: Jeeves has a marvellous idea and Bertie heartily approves.
Notes/Warnings: I'm taking some literary license and assuming that Jeeves was born on May 25, 1895 and Bertie was born on November 30, 1900. The first was when Oscar Wilde was arrested and the second was when he died. Rather fitting, I'd say. The idea came from mechanicaljewel. Thanks to mylodon, zekkass, and krzcowzgomoo for beta-reading.
Gentlemen's Agreement
I have often wondered how I would get along without Jeeves. In fact, I sometimes wonder how on earth I got by without him in the first place. He is the best gentleman's personal gentleman a gentleman could ever hope to find, the brainiest cove I have ever met, and more dear to me than even my own sister.
I'd never meant to tell Jeeves that last bit because I was afraid that he would give notice if I did. Instead, I wrote it down to clarify matters to myself. I meant to destroy it right after, but Jeeves shimmered in to inform me that I had a visitor at that moment, so I bunged the paper into a drawer, fully intending to see to it later.
Jeeves had offered to type my memoirs for me and I was bally glad to let him, since the typewriter had proven to be a rather formidable --I think that's the right word; Jeeves would know-- foe for this Wooster. In any case, I quite forgot about that piece of paper for several weeks. When I finally remembered its existence and went searching for it to destroy it, I couldn't find the dratted thing! I may not be as brainy as Jeeves, but this Wooster is not as thick as some would have you believe. I figured out rather sharp-ish that it must have got amongst the papers for my latest memoir, which I'd put by the typewriter just that morning for Jeeves.
Knowing there was nothing else for it, I charged into Jeeves' lair. Much to my consul-- consti-- consternation, he'd already begun typing my memoir. Upon learning that he'd read the page I'd been so keen for him to NOT read, it felt as if my heart had dropped right down into my stomach. It leapt straight up into my throat when Jeeves told me that he loves me as well.
I won't relate what happened afterwards, being a preux chevalier and all that rot, but rest assured that both parties were bally well satisfied. This, of course, led to a change in certain...arrangements in the Wooster household that were imminently -- if that's right -- agreeable to all involved. I could not imagine being happier.
There was just one so-called fly in the ointment of our happiness: we couldn't marry. If we could, then all those pesky females who are so determined to attach the Wooster name to theirs would know that Bertram is no longer available to them. I said as much to Jeeves one evening after he'd rescued me from another attempt on Aunt Agatha's part to marry me off. "I say, Jeeves, it's a pity I can't marry you. That would put a stop to all these bally engagements."
"Indeed, it would, sir," Jeeves answered gravely, though the corner of his mouth just barely curled upward.
"Why would people object to my falling in love with you anyway? It's not like we'd be harming anyone."
"I could not say, sir. Society is rather close-minded when it comes to relations between grown men."
"They don't mind if boys do those sorts of things at school, though." I was speaking from experience just then.
"Only with the understanding that the boys in question give up such practices when they leave school, sir."
"Yes, that's true." I plunked a few moody keys on the piano. "I'd rather not give you up, Jeeves."
"Nor do I wish to give you up, sir." There was a note of tenderness in his voice that few beside myself would have been able to detect. "If I may make a suggestion, sir?"
"By all means, Jeeves, suggest away." By that time, I knew that whatever scheme Jeeves had thought up would work out marvellously in the end.
"Though we cannot marry each other, sir, we could enter what is commonly referred to as a gentlemen's agreement."
I stared at him for a few moments, trying to work out what he meant, but the old bean just could not follow. "I'm sorry, Jeeves, but I don't follow your meaning."
"By committing themselves to a gentlemen's agreement, sir, the two parties would be making the same vows that a husband and wife make to each other during the wedding ceremony."
"Not that I object to vowing to cleave unto you until death do us part and all, Jeeves, but I don't quite see the use. No one would know about the agreement except us."
"That is very true, sir, but it would be a reassurance to the two parties involved that none shall come between them." The look he gave me at this point in our discussion reminded me that a part of him still wondered if I would seek a more socially acceptable attachment in the future.
For that matter, I still wondered why he bothered to remain with me when he could be off running the kingdom if he really wanted. That's when the psychology of the individual struck: by making the vows, I would be reassuring Jeeves that I would never seek love in a female's arms and Jeeves would be reassuring me that he would never again seek to leave my service. "Jeeves," I breathed at last, turning an admiring gaze on him, "you are a marvel."
"Thank you, sir." Though his expression didn't change, I was pretty sure I saw relief flash in those marvellous eyes of his for a very brief moment. "May I presume, then, that you approve of the idea?"
"I bally well do, Jeeves." I beamed at him, bouncing up from the piano to reward him with a kiss. After a few minutes' delay, I rather breathlessly asked, "Do you need to make any sort of arrangements before we make these vows to each other?"
He gave the delicate cough that indicated he had another idea. "Yes, Jeeves, what is it?"
"If you would not object, sir, I believe it would be appropriate if we were to exchange tokens of some sort to symbolize the agreement."
"What, you mean like wedding rings?"
"One could look at them as such, yes, sir." The smile that curled the corner of his mouth had a somewhat regretful tinge to it this time. "Though it would not be wise to wear rings on the appropriate finger, as it would lead to uncomfortable questions."
"Too right." I agreed from the vicinity of Jeeves' neck, where I'd nestled my head so I could enjoy the comfort of his embrace as we talked. "I'll leave all the arrangements in your capable hands, Jeeves."
"Thank you, sir." I could feel his voice rumbling against my cheek and snuggled against him more fully. I smiled when his arms encircled me, quite content.
*
About a week later, we made our vows to each other, Jeeves' sister our only witness. She was the only person Jeeves trusted to keep our secret and I'm rather glad of it. There was something about having someone else there to witness our agreement that made it more real, more permanent. Not that I have any intention of going back on my word. A Wooster's word is his bond after all, but I suppose there's a reason so many people get invited to weddings.
As I stood before Jeeves and heard him promise in that low, calm voice that I loved so much to never leave me or forsake me, I confess that my limbs trembled and my eyes were suspiciously moist. My voice failed me when it was time for me to say the same. Then I looked up and met his eyes. In them, I could see how much he loved me and my voice came back to me.
As I solemnly swore to never leave or forsake Jeeves, I could almost swear that tears glimmered in his eyes. Once we'd made our promises to each other, we exchanged our rings and shared a soft kiss to seal our agreement. We would never be parted voluntarily from that day forward and I couldn't be happier.
End