Bless You, Jeeves (M)

[kestrel]

Hello all!

Ive recently become obsessed with P G Wodehouse's Jeeves books and the TV show 'Jeeves and Wooster'. And because I love seeing perfectly in control guys sneeze, well...

This isn't really based entirely on the show or the books, but somewhere in between. So, anyway, enjoy!

Oh, and I don't own Jeeves & Wooster, just in case no one guessed.

I couldn’t rightly say what it was that first set the alarm bells ringing. Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Thinking back, it was most likely the cough that made me sit up and take notice. Yes, most definitely the cough.

You see, the thing you must understand is that my man Jeeves does not, as ordinary people do, cough in response to some irritation of the throat. No, a cough from Jeeves means one of two things. Most commonly Jeeves used it to indicate that he had once again come up with a brilliant scheme to rescue young master from the soup. This kind of cough I welcomed, as it generally resulted in me being wrenched from the clutches of whatever female the curse of the Woosters (better known as my Aunt Agatha) had taken it into her head to pair me with. If no brilliant scheme was called for, then a cough from Jeeves generally indicated that he had taken issue with one of my recently purchased garments, something that usually meant a certain amount of chilliness would between us until I gave in and allowed the destruction or disposal of the garment.

Jeeves had brought me my breakfast and was laying out my clothes for the day. Hearing the cough and noticing my brilliant valet’s proximity to the wardrobe, I sat up a little. No doubt he had discovered those rather loud tartan handkerchiefs that I had bought the other day. Well, the blighter was about to be put back in his place. I consider myself a very decent sort of chap, always willing to compromise and all that, but the line must be drawn somewhere. I waited for the disapproving remark I knew was coming.

“Well, Jeeves?”

“Yes, sir?’

“What do you mean, yes, sir? You coughed!”

“Sir?”

“Out with it! What do you want to dispose of this time?”

Jeeves cleared his throat. “My apologies, sir. I did not mean to draw your attention.”

“Oh.” I deflated a little. “Well… Carry on, then.”

“Very good, sir.”

Well, that threw me a little. Almost like the time I learned that my man did, in fact, have a first name. Possibly I was overreacting. A chap can be forgiven for coughing once in a while. All the same, my ears were pricked, and when Jeeves spoke again I listened closely.

“Will that be all, sir?”

Well, that settled it. There was something off about his voice. Hoarse? Congested? I couldn’t say, but I looked a little closer. It’s funny how you can live in such close proximity to a person and never actually look at them. Well, I looked now, and what I saw worried me. Jeeves was as immaculately groomed as ever, but a close inspection revealed shadows beneath his eyes and, to my amazement, the faintest hint of pink surrounding his nostrils. Well, that just about bowled me over.

“Jeeves,” I began incredulously, “do you have a cold?”

He cleared his throat again. “It is nothing to be concerned about, sir. I am not in any way impeded in my duties. Is there anything else, sir?”

“No, that’s… just about everything.”

“Very good, sir.”

For some time I sat in bed, toying with my last piece of toast. Jeeves falling ill? Fancy that! Usually I was the one who ended up bedridden, and kept Jeeves busy fetching tea, soup and anything else I could think of. As a matter of fact, I had only just recovered from my latest cold earlier this week. A pang of guilt struck me. Had Jeeves caught his cold from me?

I dismissed the thought from my mind as I dressed. Jeeves had said it himself. It was nothing to worry about. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if not for the cough.

As the day wore on, however, I kept a close eye on my manservant, and something came to my attention.

You probably know that having someone around you sneezing repeatedly is a bally nuisance. Well, it had come to my attention that having someone around you repeatedly not sneeze is just as irritating.

I barely noticed at first. Jeeves wasn’t one to make a show of sneezing. Looking closely, though, one could see the warning signs. A slight haziness about his usually keen eyes, a barely noticeable twitch of the nostrils and then… nothing. Not a sound. A quiet breath, a slight jerk of the head, and that was that. Jeeves had mastered the art of the almost-sneeze, and it was driving me mad.

There’s something distinctly unsatisfying about watching a fellow need to sneeze so badly and yet never quite get there. And it was clear that Jeeves did need to sneeze. By late afternoon these not-quite-sneezes had begun to torment him ceaselessly, coming in fits of five or six at a time. At one point I think I counted ten in a row. Although undoubtedly intended to have the opposite effect, it made me tense and irritable. I found myself unable to focus. I watched Jeeves every second he was in the room, and each time his eyes lost focus and his nose twitched I cursed silently, begging for him to get it done properly just once. Surely it would be better just to let loose with a few proper, forceful sneezes, rather than be tortured by what was clearly a very persistent tickle.

By evening I had no doubt that Jeeves was ill. He had begun to cough and sniffle, and his eyes had taken on a distinctly feverish appearance. Well, I had no doubt that something had to be done. The poor blighter couldn’t carry on like that. If it were me I would have retired to bed long ago.

“Jeeves,” I said firmly as he set down a glass of something or other by my elbow, “this must stop!”

“Sir?”

“You’re ill. Go to bed.”

I could see that we were going to have one of our little differences of opinion. When two men of iron will live together, such occurrences cannot be avoided.

“Very kind of you, sir, but I have not yet prepared your dinner, or-”

“Never mind my dinner, Jeeves! I’ll dine out. Now will you please go to bed?”

“I still need to iron your clothes for tomorrow, sir, and…”

For a moment I thought he had seen sense. Then I realised that a familiar hazy look had come into his eyes.

“Oh, dash it all, Jeeves! Sneeze properly, will you?”

“Sir?”

I seemed to have distracted him momentarily. He still looked rather sneezy, if that’s the word I’m looking for, but I had long enough to make my point.

“This stifling business has got to stop! It can’t be doing you a bit of good and it’s driving me mad!”

Jeeves looked faintly uncomfortable, which concerned me. Jeeves makes a habit of never letting anything show.

“Very good s… si…” His breath hitched, and he turned away from me.

“Properly, Jeeves!” I warned.

“H’tch!”

I winced. That sounded like it hurt. Better than before, but still painfully stifled. Jeeves sniffled and gave a quiet, dignified apology. My heart went out to him. Jeeves is used to being in control.

“This won’t do.” I stood up and took him by the arm, guiding him to the sofa. “Sit down a moment.”

“I must protest, sir…”

I ignored his protests and sat down beside him. Now that I was so close I could feel the heat radiating from him.

“Jeeves, you’re burning up!” I cried. “Why on earth didn’t you say something?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but sneezed instead.

“H’ktsch! K’tch! Ha…Ha’tsch!”

I winced again. Still stifled, but the poor fellow was obviously making an effort. It must be hard to break the habits of a lifetime.

“Come on. No arguments. Off to bed.”

Jeeves pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his nose delicately. When I’d been as ill as he was, I hadn’t strayed from my bed for two days, and he had waited on me the whole time, and apparently caught my cold as reward for his efforts. He stood and followed me to his room.

“You’re to take at least one day off. More if you aren’t well.” I said firmly.

“Very kind of you, sir. Shall I arrange a substitute to take care of you in the meantime?”

“Not necessary. We Woosters can rough it if necessary.” I replied.

Jeeves raised an eyebrow, evidently remembering how I had once fared on my own for a single day. Well, it isn’t my fault that the instructions for making tea are so complicated!

“I shall endeavour to return to my duties as soon as possible, sir.”

“Just see that you’re well first.”

“Very good, sir.”

“Well, then. Is there anything you need?”

“No, sir.”

“I’ll be off, then. I’ll look in when I get back. Until then, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

I left my brilliant but ailing valet sitting on his bed, looking miserable. As I was making my way to change into my evening clothes, I heard the first proper sneeze I had ever heard from Jeeves.

“Ha…Ahh…HAR-SCHUU!”

This was followed by the slightly muffled sound of a nose being blown. I smiled faintly. That sounded better.

“Bless you, Jeeves!”

[sneezerwoman]

This is good too. Hope there is more?

[le mouchoir]

This is great! I've never watched this show but I'm a huge Hugh Laurie / Stephen Fry fan (:

Please continue!

[MyOwnPrivateSFC]

This is good too. Hope there is more?

This is great! I've never watched this show but I'm a huge Hugh Laurie / Stephen Fry fan (:

Please continue!

Ditto to both of these! Oh, but I must add...if, perhaps, you cared to write a prequel, telling us about the week before and Wooster's cold...well, that would also be appreciated! ;-D

~Me

[kestrel]

Glad you like it!

Hm... More? Well... Jeeves is awfully fun to torture... and Bertie looks so cute when he's miserable...

You never know...

[Heathcliff]

That was brilliant!

Usually I don't read any sort of fan-fiction, but a Jeeves and Wooster story was an inspired idea! I'll try to check out your other stories.

[VoOs]

Oh, Jeeves...

This made me so many kinds of happy, you have no idea. I think I'm blushing. *fans self*

Positively delicious. Thank you so much for sharing. <3

[snuffles]

wow, just wow! I was grinning the entire time!

Now I need to check this series out... Hugh Laurie <3

[count tiszula]

Wonderful stuff! A perfectly constructed Jeeves story from the legendary cough to the punchline. And obviously a classic of the male control genre. And I love the tartan hankies; [i am with Jeeves there]!

I cannot wait for some f Jeeves stuff; the Wodehouse formula is perfect for a bit of f SwH, and I can just hear Madeline Bassett saying "My little nose is twitching like a tiny wee bunny-rabbit's." I suppose I'll have to write it myself......

As to who owns Jeeves, the original stories or many of them were published prior to 1923, which as I understand it [though I don't understand why] means that in America they are in the public domain. Of course in the civilised world they are not. Yet as we know US Federal law rules OK......

[Aprilcot]

I've never heard of this or seen it/ read it, but I definitely like this fic! Please... MORE!!!!!!

[LovelyLinda]

Owww....I love that fic =)

I'm really begging you....Pleaase continue that really cute fic!!

I def would read more ;-)

[kestrel]

Aw, thanks everyone! I really appreciate the comments!

I'm thinking about writing more, but for the moment I've got exams and essays coming up, as well as a novel that I need to finish writing. Still, the weekend is rolling around, and I haven't tied up that point with the tartan handkerchiefs...

Thanks again guys!

[Guest pepper66]

Love it, thank you for this!!

[Selene]

This story is really a masterpiece! You did a great job in using the exact Jeeves and Wooster tone for this story and I could even hear Hugh Laurie's voice while reading Bertie's thoughts! Thanks a lot for sharing and another fic like this would really be adorable! (Also: I never thought about a J&W sneezefic but now that you wrote this, my mind is getting obsessed with the idea... )