Jeeves and the Aerial Ace - Prologue
Title: Jeeves and the Aerial Ace
Chapter: Prologue
Pairing: Bertie/Jeeves
Rating for Chapter: G
Summary: Bertie meets Amelia Earhart after Jeeves wins a darts competition in Switzerland. What should be a delightful little excursion into aviation takes a whacky turn when the boys learn what a mad beazel this flying ace is and just how much trouble one snake can cause.
Disclaimer: Jeeves, Bertie, and all characters associated with their idyllic world belong to P.G. Wodehouse. All real persons belong to themselves or the grave last I checked.
Agatha Christie tapped her foot impatiently, hardly seeing the words as she read the same paragraph in her newspaper for the fifth time. Surely it had to be today. He’d said a week at the outside at Cynthia and Geo’s wedding, and day seven of her wait had come and gone with the sun yesterday. It might not have been such a troublesome wait if it hadn’t been for the row with Archie on Tuesday. A haircut for Rosalind seemed a rather silly thing to start an argument about, but he’d come home smelling like Her, and Agatha had let her temper win out.
In any case, a story penned by Bertie about his time in America would be just the thing to lift her spirits. She could only take so much gloom and noble puffery in the papers before she wanted to set a match to the lot.
Ding dong.
Agatha started, then threw her paper aside and rose to answer the door. Winston James, the mailman, smiled at her around his perpetually-loose dentures.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Christie,” he greeted. “Got a package for you. Feels like a manuscript.” His eyes wrinkled in a knowing way that she had come to love over the years of their acquaintance. “Should the missus an’ me be expectin’ your name in the bookshops soon, ma’am?”
“Not mine this time, Mr. James,” she replied, mirroring his expression as best she could. “Something far more entertaining than my shilling horror stories, I’d wager.”
“Wouldn’t count on it, ma’am. Glad you were here, though. Tried t’ bring it the other day, but you weren’t home. Got a special note here as says it’s t’ be given t’ you direct-like. Funny, eh?” He eyed the brown paper package as he handed it over along with the rest of the mail. “This Wooster fellow must be mighty secretive.”
She raised an eyebrow as she quickly signed the page he presented to her for the package. “Hardly, Mr. James. I sometimes think that’s half his problem.”
The mailman shrugged, then tipped his cap. “Happy readin’, any road, ma’am.”
Agatha waved him off before turning back inside. She fairly chucked the rest of the mail onto the kitchen table before hurrying to her study, locking the door and ripping into the package.
Atop the large, yellow envelope containing what she knew to be neatly typewritten pages were two small, white envelopes. One read ‘Mrs. Agatha Christie’ in Mr. Jeeves’ precise lettering, while the other read simply ‘Agatha’ in Bertie’s careless scrawl. She opened the one from Mr. Jeeves first.
--- --- ---
Dear Mrs. Christie,
I trust you are recovered after the troublesome events at Lady Cynthia’s wedding. Again, I must extend my sincerest apologies for failing to prevent Mr. Wooster from performing such an ill-advised maneuver onboard Mr. Fotheringay-Phipp’s sailboat. Mr. Wooster has asked me, once again, to ascertain the cost of cleaning for your dress so that he might appropriately compensate you. Alternatively, he has asked that I purchase the most expensive mink coat I can find for you should you continue ‘to be such a dashed obstinate filly’ about relating this information.
Enclosed you will find the story regarding the time that Mr. Wooster and I spent in Boston, Massachusetts some weeks ago. While Mr. Wooster has great confidence in your discretion, and I certainly agree that you are a most confidential woman, I cannot stress enough the need for complete secrecy regarding the details of this narrative. Mr. Wooster has seen fit to record some of our private encounters in detail, which, while stimulating, poses a grave risk to both of our reputations.
I would therefore request that, upon finishing, you burn this story and this letter.
Regards,
Reginald Jeeves
P.S. Should the contents of this story become public and Mr. Wooster harmed in any way as a result, Mrs. Christie, I should not be responsible for what unfortunate circumstances might befall you.
--- --- ---
Agatha’s brow had been creeping steadily upward throughout the missive and finally settled somewhere just below her hairline at the post script. Whatever good Bertie had done the man in the months they’d been together, mellowing his sense of paranoia had certainly not been among said good. Still, after the rather venomous threat she had levied at the valet during their first encounter with regard to Bertie’s health and well-being, she didn’t have much of a leg to stand on for the defense. She shook her head and set Mr. Jeeves’ letter aside, reaching for Bertie’s.
--- --- ---
Dear Agatha,
Dreadfully sorry for the late arrival of this whatsit. Had a bit of trouble after the wedding with some scheme Tuppy had gotten himself mixed up in. Something to do with toy ponies for tots. Anyway, I hope all is well in the Christie abode, especially after that nasty business with the sailboat. Really, you need to give me a price on that dress. I mean, I gave you a black eye, old thing. Least a fellow could do after cocking things up so badly, what?
That aside, though, I’ve finished the story, and it’s quite the fruity adventure, if I do say so myself, looking over it again. Snakes and planes and frightfully mad flying beazels all make for a tale that likely took a good decade off this Wooster’s life. Jeeves says that’s an exaggeration, but dash it! He wasn’t the one who went nose-to-snout with an agitated anaconda or nearly fell out of a bally death-trap at 500 feet. Not to say that he didn’t play his part in preventing an even more untimely death for the young master, but I’m of the mind that if I never see another snake or set foot in a plane again, it will be far too soon.
Looking at that just now, I hope I haven’t ruined any of the thingummy for you. It’s a bit of a spoiler, but just to put your mind at ease, young Bertram and Jeeves both survive in the end to sail happily into the sunset.
Do let me know what you think when you’ve finished. I’ve been reading those novels of yours, the ones that Jeeves is rather fond of, you know? They set the mind racing faster than a two-seater on Uncle Tom’s ‘special brew’. And they’ve, well, they’ve inspired a few of the more intimate scenes herein. I never knew there were so many ways about that thingummy with the whatsit between the something-or-others, if you catch my meaning. Dash it, I’m blushing now! It’s been however long, and I still manage to do the cherry tomato routine when it comes to the heart of the aforementioned t. with the w.
In any case, I’d be ever so grateful if you wouldn’t mind cluing me in to when the next novel’s coming out. I’m eagerly awaiting the next grisly murder, especially after my own near-death experiences. Seems a bit odd, but Jeeves said that it might be cathartic - if cathartic’s the word I want.
Toodle Pip,
Bertram Wooster
P.S. If Jeeves has sneaked a letter in with this, it likely contains dire threats and such regarding secrecy. Do ignore him, old thing. He’s been an absolute pill ever since I bought a spiffing deerstalker off a chappie who said it was just the sort Sir A.C. Doyle imagined for Sherlock Holmes. It’s the real tobasco!
--- --- ---
She felt herself grinning at the image of Bertie striding about London in a deerstalker. No doubt the fellows at the Drones would find it equally enthralling. No doubt, as well, that Mr. Jeeves wanted to visit some horror upon it.
Agatha placed Bertie’s letter down alongside Mr. Jeeves’ and carefully unwound the string on the yellow envelope, pulling out the manuscript-like stack of paper. It would never see print in its full form, but that made the opportunity to read the unabridged version that much more exciting. As she set the yellow envelope aside and looked down, the title page caught her eye. It was not so much the title itself, ‘Jeeves and the Aerial Ace’, but the illustration Bertie has seen fit to ink along with it: a snake flying a bi-plane.
(Onward to Chapter 1)
Chapter: Prologue
Pairing: Bertie/Jeeves
Rating for Chapter: G
Summary: Bertie meets Amelia Earhart after Jeeves wins a darts competition in Switzerland. What should be a delightful little excursion into aviation takes a whacky turn when the boys learn what a mad beazel this flying ace is and just how much trouble one snake can cause.
Disclaimer: Jeeves, Bertie, and all characters associated with their idyllic world belong to P.G. Wodehouse. All real persons belong to themselves or the grave last I checked.
Agatha Christie tapped her foot impatiently, hardly seeing the words as she read the same paragraph in her newspaper for the fifth time. Surely it had to be today. He’d said a week at the outside at Cynthia and Geo’s wedding, and day seven of her wait had come and gone with the sun yesterday. It might not have been such a troublesome wait if it hadn’t been for the row with Archie on Tuesday. A haircut for Rosalind seemed a rather silly thing to start an argument about, but he’d come home smelling like Her, and Agatha had let her temper win out.
In any case, a story penned by Bertie about his time in America would be just the thing to lift her spirits. She could only take so much gloom and noble puffery in the papers before she wanted to set a match to the lot.
Ding dong.
Agatha started, then threw her paper aside and rose to answer the door. Winston James, the mailman, smiled at her around his perpetually-loose dentures.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Christie,” he greeted. “Got a package for you. Feels like a manuscript.” His eyes wrinkled in a knowing way that she had come to love over the years of their acquaintance. “Should the missus an’ me be expectin’ your name in the bookshops soon, ma’am?”
“Not mine this time, Mr. James,” she replied, mirroring his expression as best she could. “Something far more entertaining than my shilling horror stories, I’d wager.”
“Wouldn’t count on it, ma’am. Glad you were here, though. Tried t’ bring it the other day, but you weren’t home. Got a special note here as says it’s t’ be given t’ you direct-like. Funny, eh?” He eyed the brown paper package as he handed it over along with the rest of the mail. “This Wooster fellow must be mighty secretive.”
She raised an eyebrow as she quickly signed the page he presented to her for the package. “Hardly, Mr. James. I sometimes think that’s half his problem.”
The mailman shrugged, then tipped his cap. “Happy readin’, any road, ma’am.”
Agatha waved him off before turning back inside. She fairly chucked the rest of the mail onto the kitchen table before hurrying to her study, locking the door and ripping into the package.
Atop the large, yellow envelope containing what she knew to be neatly typewritten pages were two small, white envelopes. One read ‘Mrs. Agatha Christie’ in Mr. Jeeves’ precise lettering, while the other read simply ‘Agatha’ in Bertie’s careless scrawl. She opened the one from Mr. Jeeves first.
--- --- ---
Dear Mrs. Christie,
I trust you are recovered after the troublesome events at Lady Cynthia’s wedding. Again, I must extend my sincerest apologies for failing to prevent Mr. Wooster from performing such an ill-advised maneuver onboard Mr. Fotheringay-Phipp’s sailboat. Mr. Wooster has asked me, once again, to ascertain the cost of cleaning for your dress so that he might appropriately compensate you. Alternatively, he has asked that I purchase the most expensive mink coat I can find for you should you continue ‘to be such a dashed obstinate filly’ about relating this information.
Enclosed you will find the story regarding the time that Mr. Wooster and I spent in Boston, Massachusetts some weeks ago. While Mr. Wooster has great confidence in your discretion, and I certainly agree that you are a most confidential woman, I cannot stress enough the need for complete secrecy regarding the details of this narrative. Mr. Wooster has seen fit to record some of our private encounters in detail, which, while stimulating, poses a grave risk to both of our reputations.
I would therefore request that, upon finishing, you burn this story and this letter.
Regards,
Reginald Jeeves
P.S. Should the contents of this story become public and Mr. Wooster harmed in any way as a result, Mrs. Christie, I should not be responsible for what unfortunate circumstances might befall you.
--- --- ---
Agatha’s brow had been creeping steadily upward throughout the missive and finally settled somewhere just below her hairline at the post script. Whatever good Bertie had done the man in the months they’d been together, mellowing his sense of paranoia had certainly not been among said good. Still, after the rather venomous threat she had levied at the valet during their first encounter with regard to Bertie’s health and well-being, she didn’t have much of a leg to stand on for the defense. She shook her head and set Mr. Jeeves’ letter aside, reaching for Bertie’s.
--- --- ---
Dear Agatha,
Dreadfully sorry for the late arrival of this whatsit. Had a bit of trouble after the wedding with some scheme Tuppy had gotten himself mixed up in. Something to do with toy ponies for tots. Anyway, I hope all is well in the Christie abode, especially after that nasty business with the sailboat. Really, you need to give me a price on that dress. I mean, I gave you a black eye, old thing. Least a fellow could do after cocking things up so badly, what?
That aside, though, I’ve finished the story, and it’s quite the fruity adventure, if I do say so myself, looking over it again. Snakes and planes and frightfully mad flying beazels all make for a tale that likely took a good decade off this Wooster’s life. Jeeves says that’s an exaggeration, but dash it! He wasn’t the one who went nose-to-snout with an agitated anaconda or nearly fell out of a bally death-trap at 500 feet. Not to say that he didn’t play his part in preventing an even more untimely death for the young master, but I’m of the mind that if I never see another snake or set foot in a plane again, it will be far too soon.
Looking at that just now, I hope I haven’t ruined any of the thingummy for you. It’s a bit of a spoiler, but just to put your mind at ease, young Bertram and Jeeves both survive in the end to sail happily into the sunset.
Do let me know what you think when you’ve finished. I’ve been reading those novels of yours, the ones that Jeeves is rather fond of, you know? They set the mind racing faster than a two-seater on Uncle Tom’s ‘special brew’. And they’ve, well, they’ve inspired a few of the more intimate scenes herein. I never knew there were so many ways about that thingummy with the whatsit between the something-or-others, if you catch my meaning. Dash it, I’m blushing now! It’s been however long, and I still manage to do the cherry tomato routine when it comes to the heart of the aforementioned t. with the w.
In any case, I’d be ever so grateful if you wouldn’t mind cluing me in to when the next novel’s coming out. I’m eagerly awaiting the next grisly murder, especially after my own near-death experiences. Seems a bit odd, but Jeeves said that it might be cathartic - if cathartic’s the word I want.
Toodle Pip,
Bertram Wooster
P.S. If Jeeves has sneaked a letter in with this, it likely contains dire threats and such regarding secrecy. Do ignore him, old thing. He’s been an absolute pill ever since I bought a spiffing deerstalker off a chappie who said it was just the sort Sir A.C. Doyle imagined for Sherlock Holmes. It’s the real tobasco!
--- --- ---
She felt herself grinning at the image of Bertie striding about London in a deerstalker. No doubt the fellows at the Drones would find it equally enthralling. No doubt, as well, that Mr. Jeeves wanted to visit some horror upon it.
Agatha placed Bertie’s letter down alongside Mr. Jeeves’ and carefully unwound the string on the yellow envelope, pulling out the manuscript-like stack of paper. It would never see print in its full form, but that made the opportunity to read the unabridged version that much more exciting. As she set the yellow envelope aside and looked down, the title page caught her eye. It was not so much the title itself, ‘Jeeves and the Aerial Ace’, but the illustration Bertie has seen fit to ink along with it: a snake flying a bi-plane.
(Onward to Chapter 1)