Something of His Own
Jan. 9th, 2007 01:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
venetianarchivePosted as ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
killalla, May 19, 2006 in the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fryandorlaurie Rareathon.
Title: Something of His Own
Author: killalla
Fandom: Jeeves & Wooster, Dorothy L. Sayers: Lord Peter Wimsey
Pairing: Jeeves/Bunter implied
Rating: PG
Why it’s rare: Rare character pairing, Crossover
Summary: Old servants never die, they just open a club in Pall Mall.
Disclaimers: Assume all standard disclaimers.
Notes: Apologies all – I had meant to write a longer story, which included young Wooster relatives and young Wimsey sons, but time got away from me, so I give you this little moment in time, instead. With any luck, someday I’ll get around to the whole story.
Written for: 2006 Fryandorlaurie Rareathon
His Lordship had once said "Bunter, you anticipate my every whim. You know, one day you’re going to leave me and run a pub somewhere, or something." He had denied it at the time, and it was true, since the Grecian Club was not exactly a pub, but the principle was more or less the same in the end.
After all, being valet to a happily married father of three was not the same thing as being valet to a debonair bachelor sleuth. And even the most perfect servant might someday want something of his own.
Old habits die hard, though, so once he’d cleared the bar and finished locking up downstairs, Mervyn Bunter retired to his attic flat, poured two snifters of brandy and carried them over the piano.
The strains of "Nagasaki" ceased as the man seated at the bench looked up. "Mr. Prosser has a train to catch, so I’ll make sure he’s breakfasted, but the two gentlemen in the Green Suite do not wish to be disturbed. If you can do the marketing, I’ll take care of things here and we can discuss the evening meal after lunch." Even when melancholy, Reginald Jeeves was the epitome of organisation.
A silent toast. Mervyn downed his drink. "It’s late, Mr. Jeeves. You should come to bed.”
Reginald smiled across the rim of his glass at his partner and co-owner. Life after being a gentleman’s gentleman did have some compensation. "Thank you, Mr. Bunter. I do believe I shall."
killalla, May 19, 2006 in the fryandorlaurie Rareathon.Title: Something of His Own
Author: killalla
Fandom: Jeeves & Wooster, Dorothy L. Sayers: Lord Peter Wimsey
Pairing: Jeeves/Bunter implied
Rating: PG
Why it’s rare: Rare character pairing, Crossover
Summary: Old servants never die, they just open a club in Pall Mall.
Disclaimers: Assume all standard disclaimers.
Notes: Apologies all – I had meant to write a longer story, which included young Wooster relatives and young Wimsey sons, but time got away from me, so I give you this little moment in time, instead. With any luck, someday I’ll get around to the whole story.
Written for: 2006 Fryandorlaurie Rareathon
His Lordship had once said "Bunter, you anticipate my every whim. You know, one day you’re going to leave me and run a pub somewhere, or something." He had denied it at the time, and it was true, since the Grecian Club was not exactly a pub, but the principle was more or less the same in the end.
After all, being valet to a happily married father of three was not the same thing as being valet to a debonair bachelor sleuth. And even the most perfect servant might someday want something of his own.
Old habits die hard, though, so once he’d cleared the bar and finished locking up downstairs, Mervyn Bunter retired to his attic flat, poured two snifters of brandy and carried them over the piano.
The strains of "Nagasaki" ceased as the man seated at the bench looked up. "Mr. Prosser has a train to catch, so I’ll make sure he’s breakfasted, but the two gentlemen in the Green Suite do not wish to be disturbed. If you can do the marketing, I’ll take care of things here and we can discuss the evening meal after lunch." Even when melancholy, Reginald Jeeves was the epitome of organisation.
A silent toast. Mervyn downed his drink. "It’s late, Mr. Jeeves. You should come to bed.”
Reginald smiled across the rim of his glass at his partner and co-owner. Life after being a gentleman’s gentleman did have some compensation. "Thank you, Mr. Bunter. I do believe I shall."
