What ho, old beans! I have a fic rec for you!
Jeeves and the Tennis Coach by out_there
Jeeves/Wooster, PG, 57000 words, first time. Summary: Have there been any times when you, Mr Wooster, managed to get the best of Jeeves?
OMG. OMG. OMG. It's entirely possible I'm the happiest fangirl alive at the moment. I just finished reading this story and I have no words to explain how much I loved it. It's PERFECT. *flails* Bertie's voice is absolutely to die for, the story is sweet, funny, adorable, long, plotty and so very much Wodehousean it's amazing, really. A definite must-read for any self-respecting fan of Jeeves&Wooster slash.
Excerpt:
There is something eminently satisfying about receiving letters from one's readers. It's quite an unexpected delight to open the morning's mail and find a missive asking questions about this acquaintance or that, wondering how I met Bingo (while a boy at Eton, if you were in the middle of wondering that very question), or where Jeeves and I would recommend visiting while in New York (the Stork Club, located on East 53rd Street, is a wonderful example of what Americans quaintly call a 'speakeasy' and a topping spot for a good b-and-s).
I tell you this, dear readers, so that you will grasp my positive reaction to finding a letter addressed to yours truly, asking a most intriguing question: have there been any times when you, Mr Wooster, managed to get the best of Jeeves?
Well, I say.
It's not the type of question one gets asked often. When talking about this precise question, it's not one I've ever been asked. Most people of my acquaintance know Jeeves and his rather remarkable brain, and therefore would not dare to think that such a thing would be possible.
We Woosters are known amongst our contemporaries. We are possessed of bright, if slightly unusual minds -- especially in the case of my Uncle Henry and his reported habit of carrying on conversations with other people's rose bushes -- and stiff upper lips in times of trial. We are ready with shoulders for damsels to cry on and comforting words for friends in trouble. However, when comparing the Woosters with the Jeeveses, there is a notable difference in the mental faculties, if you catch my meaning.
This leads to the logical answer that I've never managed to get the upper hand on Jeeves, but such logic would lead you wrong. On several occasions, I've come so close as to mark it a victory.
Sheer delight, I say!
Jeeves/Wooster, PG, 57000 words, first time. Summary: Have there been any times when you, Mr Wooster, managed to get the best of Jeeves?
OMG. OMG. OMG. It's entirely possible I'm the happiest fangirl alive at the moment. I just finished reading this story and I have no words to explain how much I loved it. It's PERFECT. *flails* Bertie's voice is absolutely to die for, the story is sweet, funny, adorable, long, plotty and so very much Wodehousean it's amazing, really. A definite must-read for any self-respecting fan of Jeeves&Wooster slash.
Excerpt:
There is something eminently satisfying about receiving letters from one's readers. It's quite an unexpected delight to open the morning's mail and find a missive asking questions about this acquaintance or that, wondering how I met Bingo (while a boy at Eton, if you were in the middle of wondering that very question), or where Jeeves and I would recommend visiting while in New York (the Stork Club, located on East 53rd Street, is a wonderful example of what Americans quaintly call a 'speakeasy' and a topping spot for a good b-and-s).
I tell you this, dear readers, so that you will grasp my positive reaction to finding a letter addressed to yours truly, asking a most intriguing question: have there been any times when you, Mr Wooster, managed to get the best of Jeeves?
Well, I say.
It's not the type of question one gets asked often. When talking about this precise question, it's not one I've ever been asked. Most people of my acquaintance know Jeeves and his rather remarkable brain, and therefore would not dare to think that such a thing would be possible.
We Woosters are known amongst our contemporaries. We are possessed of bright, if slightly unusual minds -- especially in the case of my Uncle Henry and his reported habit of carrying on conversations with other people's rose bushes -- and stiff upper lips in times of trial. We are ready with shoulders for damsels to cry on and comforting words for friends in trouble. However, when comparing the Woosters with the Jeeveses, there is a notable difference in the mental faculties, if you catch my meaning.
This leads to the logical answer that I've never managed to get the upper hand on Jeeves, but such logic would lead you wrong. On several occasions, I've come so close as to mark it a victory.
Sheer delight, I say!