Clothes Make the Whatzit
Title: The Clothes Maketh the Whatzit
Author: Trista_zevkia
Chapter: 1/1
Fandom: Jeeves and Wooster
Characters/Pairing: Jeeves and Wooster
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: SLASH Pre slash this time, quick and dirty to write, no beta, so as to get up near image it was inspired by, drat you Detective_wolf!
Summary: Bertie in Jeeves Clothes
Disclaimer: All monies made will go to seducing people to the world of Wodehouse, even if it means making them watch the Fry and Laurie DVD’s.
Author's Notes: The thing about throwing plot bunny grenades, is that sometimes you get hit with the shrapnel. Based on this entry, which I'm sure you've seen. Oxford bags
I don’t mind a gentle rain when I’ve a sturdy umbrella, good coat and a dry place to head for. But fleeing into an English countryside typhoon with only the suit on my back is a bit thick. I was drenched the minute I left the front door of Aunt A’s place and a few moments of solitude would have helped my onion come up with a bit of a plan. But shouts from behind me and Aunt A calling for a shotgun convinced me to keep running. It was only luck that steered me to the stable, and I slammed into a solid, dry person.
Just as once again I’ve bunged my reader into the middle of the situ, what? This morning, I was safely in my flat, finishing the last few chapters of my spine tingler. Jeeves made like a zephyr of cleanliness and organization, flitting across the flat. He was packing my belongings, as I’d been invited to a week of Anatole’s masterpieces of cooking, though I did have to visit my Aunt Dahlia for that privilege. The plan for tonight was supper and entertainment with the Drones, tomorrow was one of Jeeves’ restoratives and a trip to the countryside. Alas, it was not to be.
Aunt Agatha burst in, full of vim and vinegar, if that’s the phrase I want. Next thing I knew, I was driving her home with all the personal belongings I could fit on the driver’s seat beside me. She muttered threats behind me, some directed at me and some at the chauffeur who had dared let his appendix burst on her time. I dared not hope I would escape her blood drawing clutches long enough to get to Aunt D’s, but the cruelest part was leaving Jeeves behind. He was to finish the packing and bring down my twoseater, but would only be able to save me if Aunt A didn’t have a girl and vicar stashed at her place.
She had a girl, a short, round thing with a jarring high pitched giggle. It didn’t help that she giggled at everything I said, even the simple hullo I offered. We made it to tea time before I mentioned the giggle, something about it being more terrifying than the maniacal laughter of the bad guy on those radio serials I enjoyed. I didn’t say it to her so much as this bloke who was there. He turned out to be her half brother and a snitch, who delighted in telling her every word in a tone I did not use! For one thing, my voice had more genuine fear and absolutely no mocking. Cue the gnashing of teeth and rending of garments, and the mandatory threat of violence from Aunt A. I flee and run into my paragon of personal penguins in the barn. He’d just arrived and was waiting for the rain to let up before he made his way into the house.
Jeeves is a solid bloke, and it took me a moment to start breathing again, and a moment longer to realize I was dampening his immaculate suit as I hadn’t moved away from the initial impact position. Time to come clean about the whole thing. “Jeeves, I’ve made a bloomer and we must hie away to aunt free climes.”
“Very good, Sir. Should I attempt to retrieve your belongings?”
“Write them off, Jeeves.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’m sure they will be sacrificed to fire breathing aunts. And I must say, better them than the last of the Woosters.”
“Quite true, Sir. Would you like to get into the automobile so we may leave?”
I considered telling him I was rather comfortable where I was, but as that was leaning against him still, I thought better of it. I pulled away and tried to straighten my suit as I walked to the passenger side of the thing. Without his solidness holding me up, I started to feel cold, despite it being a warm spring day before the rain had started. As Jeeves carried me away from the pit of despair, where a three headed giant dog was redundant when Aunt A was about, I started to feel better. Only had to postpone Aunt Dahlia by a day as I replaced the articles lost on this adventure, and it had been an easy escape! Things hadn’t even progressed to the point of an engagement for Jeeves to work his magic on. I relaxed into the seat and slowly slipped into the arms of Morpheus.
Something startled me awake, and as I blinked around trying to get an idea of what it was, it happened again. The engine gave a violent sputter, like me when I’m looking to get out of an unexpected engagement to Madeline. Jeeves pulled over to the side of the road, just before the engine gave another cough and died. There was a tightening around his eyes, a massive Jeeves frown at the car. He turned and saw me looking.
“Please wait here, Sir, while I take a look.” I yawned my reply and he braved the rain that was now coming in sideways. I woke up as he tinkered and tonked at the engine, and I was just starting to worry when he slide back into the driver’s seat. “Sir, the engine is beyond my ability to fix with the tools at hand.”
“It has gas?”
“I filled the tank before driving out to Easeby, Sir.” Only a touch of soupiness in his voice, as he knew I didn’t mean for it to sound like I doubted him.
“Sorry, Jeeves, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Think nothing of it, Sir.”
“So what does the fish fed brain suggest?”
“There is an old barn just off the road where you could wait out the storm while I go for assistance, Sir.”
“That won’t do at all! Imagine walking miles to the nearest town in this weather. How long would it take and what are the odds the village will have what you need? You can keep me company in the barn, old horse.”
“Sir, it is approximately ten miles to the nearest village, but I could be back before you have to spend the night in an old barn. I do not have supplies for an adequate supper, Sir.”
“I know better than that Jeeves. I know you always pack a bit of food for emergencies, such as this.”
“Food for a light tea, but not a satisfying evening meal, Sir.”
“Fine. Then I’ll walk into town with you.”
“Sir, you have already been subjected to the elements today and I do not believe such an excursion would be good for your health.”
“Nor yours, so do we stay or go?”
“If you insist, Sir, I believe we should stay.”
And that was the end of that conversation. He pointed out the structure, and I made a mad dash for it, expecting him to be right behind me. Instead he shimmered in with his suitcase and a small basket a few seconds behind me. Now I wished I had let him enter the dragon’s den and get my things, dry clothes sounded wonderful.
“I envy your soon to be dry self, Jeeves.”
“Sir, if it is not too much of a liberty, I thought to dress you in my clothes.”
“Seeing to my comfort is your job, so I don’t think doing so would be a liberty.”
“True Sir, but the clothes are not of the fine materials that you are accustomed to, nor will they fit you properly.”
“Jeeves, I know I’m a bit of a bloomer, a mental mistake of nature if you will. But do you really think I would rather get phenomenon in wet clothes than look silly?”
“Pneumonia, Sir. No Sir, which is why I suggested my clothes.”
“Suggest away, Jeeves!”
Now, I might not be the sharpest tool in this abandoned barn, but I’m not completely helpless. I can take clothes of my body and put others in their place, and only need assistance to make sure an item sits the way it’s supposed to. So after a few sessions with my other valets, after knowing they knew their stuff, I’d do the dressing and leave them the finishing touches. But, as thoroughly convinced as I was that Jeeves knew his stuff, I’d never done that when he was available. There was just something about the way he did it that made me feel pampered and special.
I know I’m rich and pampered, I do have a valet after all, when several of my friends don’t. But it’s easy enough to forget, unless Jeeves is the one smoothing down your lapels. So I let him pull my wet suit off me and attempt to dry myself with the flannel he provides. Then I pull on his undershorts and wait for him to dress me. We’ve done this countless times in the two years since he poured his restorative down my throat, but today I can feel lighting in the air. I’m not sure what it’s about, since the storm was too wet to have lightning or something. But I would swear Jeeves is prolonging the exercise, and when he tucks the shirt in I see something in his eyes.
I’ve never thought much about men’s sizes in clothing, having such an extensive wardrobe I don’t have to borrow things from my fellow Drones and such. But Jeeves and I reach about the same lofty heights when standing, though he always seems to tower over me in a protective way. His sturdy shoulders are broad enough and his brain power keeps him trim, though much more useful than my willowy frame. So I don’t think there should be such a difference between us, but his pants cover my feet and his shirt hangs on me like a nightdress. My braces are still wet, but the leather belt helps hold up the pants. I must look a right fool, but what makes me laugh is that I see Jeeves has laid out a tie to go with the borrowed outfit. His look is not quite recrimination at my laugh as he holds open a jacket for me.
“Jeeves, for once, I think we can go without the stiff collars and tie.” I can see the fight within him at this revolutionary idea, but another glance at me makes up his mind.
“If you insist, Sir.”
“You do have another dry suit in there for you, don’t you?”
“Yes Sir. But I wish to gather some firewood before changing.”
“If you’d said something, I could have helped!”
“I would not risk your health, Sir. If you like, you can lay out any wood I find so that it may dry without dripping on the other pieces.”
“I can do that!”
And so I did, delighted to help Jeeves in whatever way I could. Jeeves would disappear and come back with wood under his coat, wood that was surprisingly dry for such a perfect day for flooding. He claimed it had been under leaves and downed trees and such. I spread the wood out and tried to figure out why the barn had been abandoned. The stone walls were old, but it still seemed serviceable. It even had a wood roof instead of thatched or something the country dwellers liked to use. When I got tired of staring at the old barn and noticing where the leaks were, I started reorganizing the wood by size. I was bent to this task when I felt a cold breeze in a strange place. Feeling behind me, I found my bending had raised the shirt and exposed some skin. My leather belt was doing its best, but Jeeves’ pants were starting to gap as my movements pulled them down. I stood to tuck the shirt in again, but turned it into a jump for the ceiling when Jeeves spoke.
“Sir,” Jeeves waited until I’d touched ground again before continuing. He is a very smart cove. “This is the last load of wood, so if you would make yourself comfortable I will start a small fire.”
Sitting against the wall, I let my heart settle as I watched him move. I know he’s seen me in various states of undress, but I was still embarrassed about showing parts of myself like that! With grace and efficiency, he cleared a spot on the dirt floor and built a small fire. The driest of the other wood that he’d brought was put near the fire to dry out. He’d already spread my clothes out to dry and soon enough his followed. In his undershirt, pants and braces, he vanished into a horse stall with the gate missing and returned fully dress. I was rather disappointed, I guess because I enjoyed seeing Jeeves when he was less than perfectly presentable. Let’s face it, it was a rare sight.
He also came back from the stall with a bucket. Standing carefully in the doorway, he got some rain in it and cleaned it out. Then he set the bucket out to collect water and came back to me and the fire. He asked after my wellbeing and I told him about the afternoon at Easeby and how I thought that was an appropriate name. After all, if I was going past Aunt A’s estate, I’d ease by as creepily as I could, hoping not to get noticed! He laughed, in that both corners of his mouth twitched and we conversed about this and that until my stomach joined in.
Now he dug into his basket and provided sandwiches and fairy cakes. All we had to drink was rain water, but the little barn was cozy and I couldn’t care about the wooden taste to the water. When I started yawning with every other word, Jeeves used the mostly dry clothes and the remaining bits in his suitcase to make me a pallet to sleep on. I protested, but ineffectually and was asleep on the pallet before I knew it.
I don’t know why I woke up, it might have been the silence from the rain ending. But I woke to a fire of red coals and Jeeves sleeping across the fire from me. He looked good in red, and I decided to by him the rubiest red pajamas I could find! Jeeves also looked more comfortable and warm than I, curled up on his right side and facing the fire. Grabbing a coat from under me, I went over and lay before him, covering us with the coat. It was much warmer, and I slept much better just being near him.
The next time I woke up, it was to something tickling my right hand. It was nice and I giggled a little. It was a bit of silliness I didn’t expect from the paragon wrapped around me in his sleep, so I kissed the tip of his nose. His eyes fluttered open and I woke up a little more. My head was cradled on his right arm, and his left arm and left leg were wrapped around me. My left arm was folded between us, fingers tangled into his shirt buttons. My right arm draped over his broad frame, my right leg in between his. I was so comfortable, that it took me a minute to wonder how he was tickling my hand. I looked up and saw a horned monstrosity. I yelped and tried to back away but Jeeves clamped down on me.
“The fire, Sir.” I looked up at the hairy horned thing and slowly calmed down.
“Jeeves, what’s wrong with that thing?”
Slowly, he released me and I tried not to snuggle back up to him. I mean, share the warmth in a manly way. He turned to look at it and stood to offer me a hand up.
“Sir, I believe that is a cow.”
“But cows don’t have horns, or all that wool.”
“This particular breed, is a Highland cow, Sir.” He started dusting me off, but didn’t seem interested in looking into my eyes. He was straightening his own clothing as he talked of breeding for the harsh Scottish climate and I wandered over to pet the thing. On my feet and awake, I could see a cow under all that ginger hair, even the longish patch hiding her doleful eyes. She looked as if she saw something I didn’t, so I ran back through the events she’d witnessed.
I kept getting an image of how right it felt to be wrapped up in Jeeves, how easy it was to believe he was teasing my hand. And how I’d woken him with a kiss on the nose, and he’d been more concerned about me rolling into the fire than me kissing him. He had moved on to making plans in regards to the clear spring day that had dawned, so I turned to ask him about the wrapping up and the kiss, but another voice sounded when I opened my mouth. Spinning around again, I see the young blight who has just come into the barn.
“Whatcher’ doin’ here?” His impudence gets a regal eyebrow from Jeeves, and then an explanation. The kid talks about how this cow always comes back to the old barn to get milked, keeps knocking down fences to get here. I’m not sure what his point was; as I’ve started thinking about the things I’d knock down to get anywhere. Much as I love my flat, no one place stands out as home. But, rather suddenly, my entire soul knows I’d knock down everything and anything that tried to keep me from Jeeves!
We follow the boy to the new barn and then the main house about a mile away. I make friends and have a good breakfast while Jeeves shimmers off to do what he does. While a mechanic deals with the car, he swiftly puts me back in the suit I wore yesterday. After lunch, we’re back in the car and on our way to the Metrop. The new resolve hasn’t left me, but I know better than to say anything without a locked door between us and the world. Another hour and we’ll be in the flat. Time for a stiffener and then I’ll summon up the courage that served my ancestors at Agincourt. I’ll tell Jeeves that I’m head over heels in love with him. He already knows I put my life in his hands, what will he think of holding my heart?
Author: Trista_zevkia
Chapter: 1/1
Fandom: Jeeves and Wooster
Characters/Pairing: Jeeves and Wooster
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: SLASH Pre slash this time, quick and dirty to write, no beta, so as to get up near image it was inspired by, drat you Detective_wolf!
Summary: Bertie in Jeeves Clothes
Disclaimer: All monies made will go to seducing people to the world of Wodehouse, even if it means making them watch the Fry and Laurie DVD’s.
Author's Notes: The thing about throwing plot bunny grenades, is that sometimes you get hit with the shrapnel. Based on this entry, which I'm sure you've seen. Oxford bags
I don’t mind a gentle rain when I’ve a sturdy umbrella, good coat and a dry place to head for. But fleeing into an English countryside typhoon with only the suit on my back is a bit thick. I was drenched the minute I left the front door of Aunt A’s place and a few moments of solitude would have helped my onion come up with a bit of a plan. But shouts from behind me and Aunt A calling for a shotgun convinced me to keep running. It was only luck that steered me to the stable, and I slammed into a solid, dry person.
Just as once again I’ve bunged my reader into the middle of the situ, what? This morning, I was safely in my flat, finishing the last few chapters of my spine tingler. Jeeves made like a zephyr of cleanliness and organization, flitting across the flat. He was packing my belongings, as I’d been invited to a week of Anatole’s masterpieces of cooking, though I did have to visit my Aunt Dahlia for that privilege. The plan for tonight was supper and entertainment with the Drones, tomorrow was one of Jeeves’ restoratives and a trip to the countryside. Alas, it was not to be.
Aunt Agatha burst in, full of vim and vinegar, if that’s the phrase I want. Next thing I knew, I was driving her home with all the personal belongings I could fit on the driver’s seat beside me. She muttered threats behind me, some directed at me and some at the chauffeur who had dared let his appendix burst on her time. I dared not hope I would escape her blood drawing clutches long enough to get to Aunt D’s, but the cruelest part was leaving Jeeves behind. He was to finish the packing and bring down my twoseater, but would only be able to save me if Aunt A didn’t have a girl and vicar stashed at her place.
She had a girl, a short, round thing with a jarring high pitched giggle. It didn’t help that she giggled at everything I said, even the simple hullo I offered. We made it to tea time before I mentioned the giggle, something about it being more terrifying than the maniacal laughter of the bad guy on those radio serials I enjoyed. I didn’t say it to her so much as this bloke who was there. He turned out to be her half brother and a snitch, who delighted in telling her every word in a tone I did not use! For one thing, my voice had more genuine fear and absolutely no mocking. Cue the gnashing of teeth and rending of garments, and the mandatory threat of violence from Aunt A. I flee and run into my paragon of personal penguins in the barn. He’d just arrived and was waiting for the rain to let up before he made his way into the house.
Jeeves is a solid bloke, and it took me a moment to start breathing again, and a moment longer to realize I was dampening his immaculate suit as I hadn’t moved away from the initial impact position. Time to come clean about the whole thing. “Jeeves, I’ve made a bloomer and we must hie away to aunt free climes.”
“Very good, Sir. Should I attempt to retrieve your belongings?”
“Write them off, Jeeves.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’m sure they will be sacrificed to fire breathing aunts. And I must say, better them than the last of the Woosters.”
“Quite true, Sir. Would you like to get into the automobile so we may leave?”
I considered telling him I was rather comfortable where I was, but as that was leaning against him still, I thought better of it. I pulled away and tried to straighten my suit as I walked to the passenger side of the thing. Without his solidness holding me up, I started to feel cold, despite it being a warm spring day before the rain had started. As Jeeves carried me away from the pit of despair, where a three headed giant dog was redundant when Aunt A was about, I started to feel better. Only had to postpone Aunt Dahlia by a day as I replaced the articles lost on this adventure, and it had been an easy escape! Things hadn’t even progressed to the point of an engagement for Jeeves to work his magic on. I relaxed into the seat and slowly slipped into the arms of Morpheus.
Something startled me awake, and as I blinked around trying to get an idea of what it was, it happened again. The engine gave a violent sputter, like me when I’m looking to get out of an unexpected engagement to Madeline. Jeeves pulled over to the side of the road, just before the engine gave another cough and died. There was a tightening around his eyes, a massive Jeeves frown at the car. He turned and saw me looking.
“Please wait here, Sir, while I take a look.” I yawned my reply and he braved the rain that was now coming in sideways. I woke up as he tinkered and tonked at the engine, and I was just starting to worry when he slide back into the driver’s seat. “Sir, the engine is beyond my ability to fix with the tools at hand.”
“It has gas?”
“I filled the tank before driving out to Easeby, Sir.” Only a touch of soupiness in his voice, as he knew I didn’t mean for it to sound like I doubted him.
“Sorry, Jeeves, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Think nothing of it, Sir.”
“So what does the fish fed brain suggest?”
“There is an old barn just off the road where you could wait out the storm while I go for assistance, Sir.”
“That won’t do at all! Imagine walking miles to the nearest town in this weather. How long would it take and what are the odds the village will have what you need? You can keep me company in the barn, old horse.”
“Sir, it is approximately ten miles to the nearest village, but I could be back before you have to spend the night in an old barn. I do not have supplies for an adequate supper, Sir.”
“I know better than that Jeeves. I know you always pack a bit of food for emergencies, such as this.”
“Food for a light tea, but not a satisfying evening meal, Sir.”
“Fine. Then I’ll walk into town with you.”
“Sir, you have already been subjected to the elements today and I do not believe such an excursion would be good for your health.”
“Nor yours, so do we stay or go?”
“If you insist, Sir, I believe we should stay.”
And that was the end of that conversation. He pointed out the structure, and I made a mad dash for it, expecting him to be right behind me. Instead he shimmered in with his suitcase and a small basket a few seconds behind me. Now I wished I had let him enter the dragon’s den and get my things, dry clothes sounded wonderful.
“I envy your soon to be dry self, Jeeves.”
“Sir, if it is not too much of a liberty, I thought to dress you in my clothes.”
“Seeing to my comfort is your job, so I don’t think doing so would be a liberty.”
“True Sir, but the clothes are not of the fine materials that you are accustomed to, nor will they fit you properly.”
“Jeeves, I know I’m a bit of a bloomer, a mental mistake of nature if you will. But do you really think I would rather get phenomenon in wet clothes than look silly?”
“Pneumonia, Sir. No Sir, which is why I suggested my clothes.”
“Suggest away, Jeeves!”
Now, I might not be the sharpest tool in this abandoned barn, but I’m not completely helpless. I can take clothes of my body and put others in their place, and only need assistance to make sure an item sits the way it’s supposed to. So after a few sessions with my other valets, after knowing they knew their stuff, I’d do the dressing and leave them the finishing touches. But, as thoroughly convinced as I was that Jeeves knew his stuff, I’d never done that when he was available. There was just something about the way he did it that made me feel pampered and special.
I know I’m rich and pampered, I do have a valet after all, when several of my friends don’t. But it’s easy enough to forget, unless Jeeves is the one smoothing down your lapels. So I let him pull my wet suit off me and attempt to dry myself with the flannel he provides. Then I pull on his undershorts and wait for him to dress me. We’ve done this countless times in the two years since he poured his restorative down my throat, but today I can feel lighting in the air. I’m not sure what it’s about, since the storm was too wet to have lightning or something. But I would swear Jeeves is prolonging the exercise, and when he tucks the shirt in I see something in his eyes.
I’ve never thought much about men’s sizes in clothing, having such an extensive wardrobe I don’t have to borrow things from my fellow Drones and such. But Jeeves and I reach about the same lofty heights when standing, though he always seems to tower over me in a protective way. His sturdy shoulders are broad enough and his brain power keeps him trim, though much more useful than my willowy frame. So I don’t think there should be such a difference between us, but his pants cover my feet and his shirt hangs on me like a nightdress. My braces are still wet, but the leather belt helps hold up the pants. I must look a right fool, but what makes me laugh is that I see Jeeves has laid out a tie to go with the borrowed outfit. His look is not quite recrimination at my laugh as he holds open a jacket for me.
“Jeeves, for once, I think we can go without the stiff collars and tie.” I can see the fight within him at this revolutionary idea, but another glance at me makes up his mind.
“If you insist, Sir.”
“You do have another dry suit in there for you, don’t you?”
“Yes Sir. But I wish to gather some firewood before changing.”
“If you’d said something, I could have helped!”
“I would not risk your health, Sir. If you like, you can lay out any wood I find so that it may dry without dripping on the other pieces.”
“I can do that!”
And so I did, delighted to help Jeeves in whatever way I could. Jeeves would disappear and come back with wood under his coat, wood that was surprisingly dry for such a perfect day for flooding. He claimed it had been under leaves and downed trees and such. I spread the wood out and tried to figure out why the barn had been abandoned. The stone walls were old, but it still seemed serviceable. It even had a wood roof instead of thatched or something the country dwellers liked to use. When I got tired of staring at the old barn and noticing where the leaks were, I started reorganizing the wood by size. I was bent to this task when I felt a cold breeze in a strange place. Feeling behind me, I found my bending had raised the shirt and exposed some skin. My leather belt was doing its best, but Jeeves’ pants were starting to gap as my movements pulled them down. I stood to tuck the shirt in again, but turned it into a jump for the ceiling when Jeeves spoke.
“Sir,” Jeeves waited until I’d touched ground again before continuing. He is a very smart cove. “This is the last load of wood, so if you would make yourself comfortable I will start a small fire.”
Sitting against the wall, I let my heart settle as I watched him move. I know he’s seen me in various states of undress, but I was still embarrassed about showing parts of myself like that! With grace and efficiency, he cleared a spot on the dirt floor and built a small fire. The driest of the other wood that he’d brought was put near the fire to dry out. He’d already spread my clothes out to dry and soon enough his followed. In his undershirt, pants and braces, he vanished into a horse stall with the gate missing and returned fully dress. I was rather disappointed, I guess because I enjoyed seeing Jeeves when he was less than perfectly presentable. Let’s face it, it was a rare sight.
He also came back from the stall with a bucket. Standing carefully in the doorway, he got some rain in it and cleaned it out. Then he set the bucket out to collect water and came back to me and the fire. He asked after my wellbeing and I told him about the afternoon at Easeby and how I thought that was an appropriate name. After all, if I was going past Aunt A’s estate, I’d ease by as creepily as I could, hoping not to get noticed! He laughed, in that both corners of his mouth twitched and we conversed about this and that until my stomach joined in.
Now he dug into his basket and provided sandwiches and fairy cakes. All we had to drink was rain water, but the little barn was cozy and I couldn’t care about the wooden taste to the water. When I started yawning with every other word, Jeeves used the mostly dry clothes and the remaining bits in his suitcase to make me a pallet to sleep on. I protested, but ineffectually and was asleep on the pallet before I knew it.
I don’t know why I woke up, it might have been the silence from the rain ending. But I woke to a fire of red coals and Jeeves sleeping across the fire from me. He looked good in red, and I decided to by him the rubiest red pajamas I could find! Jeeves also looked more comfortable and warm than I, curled up on his right side and facing the fire. Grabbing a coat from under me, I went over and lay before him, covering us with the coat. It was much warmer, and I slept much better just being near him.
The next time I woke up, it was to something tickling my right hand. It was nice and I giggled a little. It was a bit of silliness I didn’t expect from the paragon wrapped around me in his sleep, so I kissed the tip of his nose. His eyes fluttered open and I woke up a little more. My head was cradled on his right arm, and his left arm and left leg were wrapped around me. My left arm was folded between us, fingers tangled into his shirt buttons. My right arm draped over his broad frame, my right leg in between his. I was so comfortable, that it took me a minute to wonder how he was tickling my hand. I looked up and saw a horned monstrosity. I yelped and tried to back away but Jeeves clamped down on me.
“The fire, Sir.” I looked up at the hairy horned thing and slowly calmed down.
“Jeeves, what’s wrong with that thing?”
Slowly, he released me and I tried not to snuggle back up to him. I mean, share the warmth in a manly way. He turned to look at it and stood to offer me a hand up.
“Sir, I believe that is a cow.”
“But cows don’t have horns, or all that wool.”
“This particular breed, is a Highland cow, Sir.” He started dusting me off, but didn’t seem interested in looking into my eyes. He was straightening his own clothing as he talked of breeding for the harsh Scottish climate and I wandered over to pet the thing. On my feet and awake, I could see a cow under all that ginger hair, even the longish patch hiding her doleful eyes. She looked as if she saw something I didn’t, so I ran back through the events she’d witnessed.
I kept getting an image of how right it felt to be wrapped up in Jeeves, how easy it was to believe he was teasing my hand. And how I’d woken him with a kiss on the nose, and he’d been more concerned about me rolling into the fire than me kissing him. He had moved on to making plans in regards to the clear spring day that had dawned, so I turned to ask him about the wrapping up and the kiss, but another voice sounded when I opened my mouth. Spinning around again, I see the young blight who has just come into the barn.
“Whatcher’ doin’ here?” His impudence gets a regal eyebrow from Jeeves, and then an explanation. The kid talks about how this cow always comes back to the old barn to get milked, keeps knocking down fences to get here. I’m not sure what his point was; as I’ve started thinking about the things I’d knock down to get anywhere. Much as I love my flat, no one place stands out as home. But, rather suddenly, my entire soul knows I’d knock down everything and anything that tried to keep me from Jeeves!
We follow the boy to the new barn and then the main house about a mile away. I make friends and have a good breakfast while Jeeves shimmers off to do what he does. While a mechanic deals with the car, he swiftly puts me back in the suit I wore yesterday. After lunch, we’re back in the car and on our way to the Metrop. The new resolve hasn’t left me, but I know better than to say anything without a locked door between us and the world. Another hour and we’ll be in the flat. Time for a stiffener and then I’ll summon up the courage that served my ancestors at Agincourt. I’ll tell Jeeves that I’m head over heels in love with him. He already knows I put my life in his hands, what will he think of holding my heart?