godsdaisiechain.livejournal.com

Challenge: Elusive or Ephemeral

Fandom: Jeeves and Wooster

Pairing: Jeeves and Wooster, Bertie and Rocky (implied)

Rating: PG

Characters: Jeeves, Bertie, Rocky Todd, Aunt Dahlia, Anatole

Summary: As the heyday of the Jooster comes to an end, Jeeves flees to Paris in the face of rumors.  He thinks back on their relationship and wonders why has Bertie hung onto an old pair of carpet slippers Rocky Todd gave him.

Word count: ~900

Warnings: Jeeves gets weepy.

Daydream in Paris

I arrived in Paris on the heels of a terrible rumor.  Anatole, Mrs. Travers’ chef, had become very inebriated while a guest at the Drones Club and began to praise my manly attributes in a way that was grossly misunderstood.  Luckily, a friend called in at the Junior Ganymede Club and I was able to effect an escape, confident that Mr. Wooster would understand what had happened and follow me to our safe haven within a fortnight. An immediate removal would have raised suspicions, and Mr Rockmeteller Todd, an old friend of Mr. Wooster’s from the United States, had come to London to meet with a publisher. Thus, I felt no misgivings at first.

Weeks passed and I heard nothing from my young master. I ought to have known that Mr. Wooster would never be able to choose to leave England, that he had counted on me to manipulate our situation so that he was left without a real choice. The time passed, not unpleasantly, among my numerous acquaintances and friends in the city.  Few had heard of my predicament and I found that Mrs. Travers had managed to quiet the situation, but still I heard no word of Mr. Wooster.

I wandered through the Place de la Concorde, feeling lonely and sore at heart. My thoughts strayed to my last conversation with Mr. Wooster.  We had been having our usual argument over the pair of carpet slippers Mr. Todd had given him during a visit in New York. My young master had remained resolutely attached to them for reasons that eluded me.  I knew they had some type of sentimental value and on occasion, an ephemeral twinge of jealousy would stir my heart.  I wondered whether he and Mr. Todd had ever had carnal relations.  Now that we had been separated for some weeks, I began to fear that Mr. Wooster and Mr. Todd had rekindled a relationship.  The deep, agonizing hurt was as nothing compared to my terror at the danger those two gentle, flighty men could face if they were discovered.

Tears started in my eyes, and I found my way to a low wall.  I sat and let my mind wander to the first tender encounter between my master and myself. We were in New York together, and it was just after Ms. Rockmetteller had encouraged her nephew to return to his riparian entertainments. I had been surprised and grateful that Mr. Wooster and Mr. Todd afforded me the opportunity to enjoy the New York night life like a man of leisure.  During those most enjoyable hours, I was able to observe my master’s pleasures and also come to understand why he longed for quieter pursuits as he grew older.

Mrs. Gregson had cautioned my master in the most animated terms not to allow me to form ideas above my station.  She had been correct. Seeing Mr. Wooster out on the dance floor, drinking with other young men, smiling and laughing at his ease had inflamed my desires.  I formed ideas well above my station.  In fact, I formed designs on my young, impressionable master, but I was uncertain how to proceed.  I found myself tending to him with more than usual care and consideration.

One evening, Mr. Wooster had more to drink than usual and, as we discussed the events of the day, began to play a romantic melody. For the first time in our association, Mr. Wooster had surprised me, genuinely surprised me, and I began to see all the fine qualities he had been holding back.  I had gone to his side with another whiskey and he slid over to make room for me on the bench.  I sat, and we played.  At the end of the tune, he stopped and took my hand, an unspoken question playing on his face.

“Jeeves, I ah, well, dash it, Jeeves, if you understand what I mean.”

I leaned in toward his delectable lips, pausing just before our mouths touched.  Mr. Wooster closed the gap, and we shared a very tender kiss.  Never had I felt anything like the sensations that coursed through my body at his touch.  He had risen, still holding my hand, and led me to the bedchamber where we kissed and touched and slowly undressed each other. I had imagined such encounters to be rougher and more athletic, but his gentle attentions brought me to an early, gasping release that took us both by surprise.  “Sorry, old fruit,” he’d murmured into my ear while I lay trembling helplessly in his arms. “I didn’t realize.” He never voiced his realization of my inexperience in these matters.

Over the months and years we had perfected our lovemaking, and eventually I began to understand the dangers we faced as social attitudes tightened against men of our stamp. Although I wanted desperately to flee, I had not wanted to force Mr. Wooster’s decision.  And it was not until I had been in Paris for some weeks that I realized that he may have misunderstood why I mended the carpet slippers Mr. Todd had given him.  I had wanted to give the impression that Mr. Wooster took the slippers out in honor of the visit, not that I hoped he and Mr. Todd would renew their affections, if they had ever enjoyed such affections.

I struggled to identify my feelings and I could think only one thing.
            Dash it all.