I wrote this before Jeeves and the Niece Who Isn't, but because the Jeeves section on here didn't exist then - at least as far as I'm aware - I didn't post it, instead keeping it to the relevant community on Livejournal where I'm known as Pantropia. However, I'm hardly one to deny my work a wider audience, so here it is. It was fairly well received over there, and I was also asked to 'podfic' it, which I shall certainly be doing, though that will have to wait until I can afford better equipment.

Feedback of all sorts gratefully received, especially suggestions of how the piece might be improved before I commit to the hours of work I know will be required to turn this into 45 minutes of audio.

Jeeves and the Dirty Pictures

One of the duties which a valet is often required to perform if he serves a young, single gentleman is the procurement of pornographic materials. While some valets relish these opportunities to obtain such materials for themselves at their master's expense, I admit that I was relieved that Mr Wooster had never requested such a service from me. I do not make use of such things myself, and find purchasing them a somewhat unpleasant experience.

However, after I had dealt to my master's satisfaction with another matrimonial engagement, his friend Mr Little took it upon himself to approach me on the matter, much to my alarm. Mr Little has always had an eye for the ladies and been quick to fall in love, or at least to think himself so, but had recently settled at last on one woman and married. I find it often the case that those who have recently married and find themselves happy are extremely keen to see their friends likewise attached, and Mr Little was no exception. He came to visit early one evening, shortly after Mr Wooster had left for the Drones. I informed him of this, but he stated that it was not Mr Wooster he wished to see. Expecting him to require my services in smoothing matters between himself and his wife, I admitted him.

"Can I speak freely, Jeeves?"

"Of course, Sir."

"Bertie's a good egg, Jeeves, always has been. We were at school together you know... but the thing is... he's a bit of an innocent, if you get my meaning."

"I'm afraid I do not, Sir."

"Well... I don't think he knows what he's missing, Jeeves. He's always been so full of that code of the Woosters business, I don't think he's ever seen so much as a picture of a naked woman. I mean, Art, yes, of course, but not..." Mr Little flapped his hands, although I am at a loss as to what he intended his display to indicate. "He'd certainly never go to, uhm, you know, one of those girls."

"I believe I understand, Sir."

"Well... I don't think it's right. I just want to see him happy, you understand, and... well..." he produced a brown envelope from within his coat. "I won't be needing these, now I'm married, so I thought Bertie ought to have them."

"It is a most thoughtful gesture, Sir, but I do not believe that Mr Wooster would appreciate..."

"Oh, don't tell him they're from me! But I could hardly send them in the post, what? I just thought maybe you could leave them lying around, so he's got a better idea of what he's missing..."

I slipped the envelope into my own coat. "And if Mr Wooster does not appreciate these cabinets?"

"Then you can have them for yourself, old thing. It must be dashed lonely, being a valet. Well, toodle pip!"

I took the envelope into the kitchen and glanced through the material, repressing a shudder. The images were of a most disgustingly unsubtle nature, and I found them utterly repellent, but if it were the case that Mr Wooster was an innocent – and I admit, it was not difficult to believe that he was so – then perhaps Mr Little was correct. It would be remiss of me to deny my master this part of a young man's education.

I replaced the images in the envelope and the following morning left the envelope on his breakfast-tray along with the few items of post, withdrawing as I always did to allow him to take his breakfast in bed.

It was not long before I heard an anguished howl from his room.

"Sir?"

"Jeeves! Where did this envelope spring from?"

"I could not say, Sir."

"And did you investigate the contents?"

"I did not, Sir."

"Just as well, Jeeves. I wouldn't want that amazing brain of yours polluted with such horrors." He shuddered, picking the envelope up by a corner as though thinking it intended to bite. "Destroy this at once, Jeeves."

"Sir, if I might enquire as to what the envelope contains?" I asked as I took it.

"Photographs, Jeeves, of a most repulsive nature."

"Repulsive how, Sir?"

"I would rather not say, Jeeves. They are not photographs that a gentleman would possess."

"Should I understand that the images are pornographic in nature, Sir?"

"Jeeves?"

"These images, Sir. Do they represent the female form in a state of undress?"

"I suppose they must, though I never thought that was what they were keeping under their skirts!"

"And you do not find such a sight appealing, Sir?"

"I should say not!" he exclaimed, horrified. "You don't mean to say that you do Jeeves?"

"I have never enjoyed such unsubtle forms of titillation, Sir, no, but my experience is that it is the norm amongst young men to find such images rather stimulating in the days before they find a wife to fulfil their carnal desires."

Mr Wooster stared at me, shocked. "Well, I say!" he exclaimed.

"I apologise if I have spoken out of turn, Sir."

"I should hope so. Now away with you, Jeeves, and destroy that... that... filth."

"At once, Sir."

Mr Wooster remained somewhat withdrawn for the rest of the morning, and most of the afternoon, and declined to dine at his club. I suspected that it was the images which were troubling him, and as I expected, he eventually returned to the subject.

"I... I suppose you'll leave my service, now, Jeeves?" It was, I admit, not the opening I had expected of him.

"Sir?"

"Well I... you said it yourself, Jeeves. I'm not... normal. I... I suppose I never thought about it much, but... I'm an invert, aren't I?"

"I could not say, Sir."

"Well... the fillies have never really interested me, I mean, nice enough to chat to on occasion, but beyond that... I've just not really thought about anything of that nature since school. At school, well... nobody thinks anything of it, you know, even Bingo... I mean... the other chaps are there, so of course... but I was trying to think of it today, Jeeves, and I just couldn't imagine getting up to that sort of thing with a beazel."

"But you have not thought to repeat the indiscretions of your youth more recently, Sir?"

"Well... no, I suppose I haven't."

"Then it may simply be, Sir, that the hormones which prompted such desires have left you. It is not unknown for a man, or indeed a woman, to be completely uninterested in the pleasures of the flesh. I would not brand a man an invert for a lack of interest in women, but rather think it necessary for it to be accompanied by a desire for men."

"Hmm."

"I would not trouble yourself so, Sir."

My words seemed to comfort him, and so I withdrew.

I had not noted it often being the case that Mr Wooster had suffered nocturnal emissions – such things cannot be hidden from the man who launders one's pyjamas – and his awaking in a state of arousal was equally rare. However, in the week which followed the incident with Mr Little's photographs, it had become the norm that he be troubled with one or both of these things.

I had assumed that Mr Wooster was finding that, on reflection, the female form was of more interest to him than he had believed. However, on a morning on which both afflictions had troubled him he woke earlier than I had anticipated, and so was already awake when I entered with his tea. He shifted suddenly to hide the state of his body, but by the blush he developed, I am sure he knew I was aware of it.

"Would you leave my service if I were an invert, Jeeves?" he asked as I handed him his tea.

"That would depend, Sir, on whether you intended to act on that nature. I could not remain in your service if you were to seek intimate male companionship. The danger of scandal in such a situation is too great."

He nodded. "I don't... I can't see myself doing so, Jeeves, it's just... what you said about desire. I... just keep... having dreams."

"Perhaps these are caused by your troubled state of mind, Sir. They may not indicate your true nature. I once dreamed that I was made of cheese, but I am certain that at no point was that the case in reality. Dreams are simply the mind's way of sorting through the things which have occupied our waking thoughts, and they often do so in a most alarming manner."

"Yes. I... I suppose you're right, Jeeves."

"I endeavour to give satisfaction, Sir."

Mr Wooster's nocturnal troubles soon lessened though such incidents did not quite cease, and he still reacted with considerable embarrassment if he sported what I believe is known colloquially as 'morning wood'. However, the matter was generally forgotten until one night, some weeks later. Mr Wooster had returned from his club earlier than usual, and retired to bed almost immediately. I had assumed him to be ill, and when passing his room as I tidied the lounge I thought I detected a whimpering from within, and so concluded I had likely been correct. I stopped to listen further, in order that I should determine what manner of aid might be required, and realised that the noises my master was making were not of a pained nature, but rather of an impassioned one. I granted him his privacy and retired early myself.

He seemed to be in excellent spirits the following morning once I had given him the usual restorative, and announced that he was intending to take a walk in the park and enjoy the spring morning. I saw him suitably attired, and once he had gone, began to tidy his room. It had not been my intention to pry, and when I noticed a small envelope behind the night-stand, I assumed it was some item of post which had fallen, and so retrieved it. I thought it best to examine the contents in case it was a matter requiring urgent attention and was therefore somewhat taken aback to discover that it was a pornographic image.

Rather more subtle than the items which Mr Little had supplied, it portrayed a slender blonde woman on her knees, being serviced by a tall and solidly built gentleman. While both were naked, the angle of the image meant that no sexual organs were on display, and neither party's identity was revealed, as the gentleman was portrayed only from the neck down, and the woman was resting her head on her arms.

I suppose I should not have been surprised that Mr Wooster would at some point give in to such temptations, and I had suspected that Mr Little's images were simply of too extreme a nature for my master's tastes. However, I had not expected to find such a thing concealed so inexpertly in his room. Nor had I expected my master to return for some time, and so it was that the first I knew of his presence was his horrified cry as he tore the image from my fingers.

"My apologies, Sir," I said as calmly as I could manage, "I mistook the item for a mislaid postal missive. It was not my intention to cause you any embarrassment."

"Of course not, Jeeves, of course not..." he said, sitting heavily on the bed, holding the image carelessly between his knees. "I... I didn't buy it. I found it. In the toilets at the Drones last night. I suppose after the spirits had been flowing I wasn't quite in my right mind, and..."

"Perfectly understandable, Sir. Such actions are, as I said before, perfectly normal for a young gentleman."

"But they're not, Jeeves!" He wailed, waving the photograph. "It... I think it only, you know worked because I can't see her properly. I mean... you can hardly see she is a woman with her like that."

Realisation dawned for me at last. The young woman's hair was remarkably similar to Mr Wooster's, if perhaps a trifle longer. Mr Wooster had been imagining himself in the role of the woman. He dropped the photograph and leaned forward burying his head in his hands. "I think... some of those other things had coves in them too, but they were all stringy types, and this chap..."

"You find this gentleman more to your tastes, Sir?"

He nodded, without raising his head. "You'll be... leaving now, I suppose?"

"No, Sir," I replied. "You would not be the first gentleman of this persuasion I have served. As I said before, so long as you do not intend to act on your desires with another party or to otherwise compromise your secret then I see no barrier to my remaining in your service."

"I do, Jeeves," he said, quietly, "He... he reminds me of you."

I swallowed, quite at a loss for words.

"I know you're not... like me," he continued, "It's just... now I've realised, I don't think..." he trailed off, looking around himself hopelessly for a moment before resuming his defeated position. "I don't think I can stop seeing how bally handsome you are, Jeeves. I... I always knew you were a marvel, and I've always been quick to sing your praises, which is no more than you deserve, but now... I can't help thinking that sooner or later someone's going to discern the light of love in young Bertram's eyes and jump to the wrong conclusion and then it'll be off to chokey for the pair of us. I've no idea how I can do without you, Jeeves, but I must. I couldn't do that to you, Jeeves, I just couldn't."

"You... believe yourself to be in love with me, Sir?"

"I think I have been for some time, Jeeves, I just didn't realise it. You'll get the most glowing of references, rest assured."

"I do not believe that will be necessary, Sir." I replied with a calm I did not feel. "If your feelings have not been suspected until now, I see no reason that they should be in future."

"But I know now, Jeeves. I couldn't deny it if someone did spot it. Besides, there's only so many times a chap can escape the altar before tongues begin to wag."

"None of the other inverted gentlemen I've served have ever been so accused, Sir, and I did not leave their service due to impending marriages. It is also the case that a confirmed bachelor is not necessarily an invert, indeed, I have served more than one single gentleman of advancing years who was not of that persuasion. I do not doubt my ability to prevent such an eventuality as your discovery from occurring."

"Do you really think I might... oh, Jeeves, I... I don't know that I could bear it. Having you so close, and yet..."

"It is not unheard of for gentlemen to turn to their valets for what I believe is termed release, Sir."

Mr Wooster sighed. "Put yourself at the mercy of the young master's perverted desires, Jeeves? Never."

"But if you are in love with me, Sir..."

"Yes!" he cried, standing suddenly to pace about the room. "I love you, Jeeves! If it were just about... well, that I might feel different, but it's not! I don't just want you pleasuring me like some common whore, I want..." he ran his hands through his hair, clearly distressed "I want to wake up with you there in the morning. I want to make you happy. I want... I want to be the one giving you pleasure, Jeeves. Your body, delectable though it no doubt is, just isn't enough. It's love for this Wooster or nothing, old thing, so nothing it must be."

"I am most gratified to hear it, Sir. I must admit that had you requested such services of me that I would have found it necessary to leave your service."

"I would expect nothing less, Jeeves, you are a paragon, a jewel amongst men. Anyone who would treat you as anything less deserves a punishment so harsh I simply can't think of what it might be. But... if you're determined to remain in my service... I hope it won't pain you too much if sometimes I can't hide how I feel? If sometimes I come home in my cups and tell you about it?"

I considered for a moment. "I believe that could be allowed, Sir."

"Jeeves," he exclaimed with considerable relief, "I do not think I will ever understand what I've done to deserve you."

"I would surmise, Sir, that it is your most generous and agreeable nature, which leads you, even in this most troubling of personal situations to think not of your own pain but of the happiness of others. Might I enquire, Sir, what it was brought you back so quickly?"

"What? Oh! I'd barely got out the door when I realised I'd left my gaspers behind."

"Is it still your intention to walk in the park, Sir?"

"Is, uhm... is all still right with the world, Jeeves?"

"I believe so, Sir, though I suspect that in your case only time will tell. You may find the situation more trying than you expect."

"You're still here, Jeeves," he said with a grin. "That's more than I've any right to expect."

"Very good, Sir," I answered and resumed my tidying.

Mr Wooster did indeed behave much as he'd indicated he would for some time, and so I found myself subject to occasional longing glances as I went about my duties while we were alone, and often found him telling me how much he loved me as I assisted him to bed after a late evening. Aside from these incidents, for several months our lives continued much as they had before.

"Do you not intend to marry, Jeeves?" He asked me as we drove home from Brinkley Court after I had once again diverted the matrimonial ambitions of one of his female acquaintances.

"I understood that you wished me to remain in your service, Sir," I replied, as evenly as I could manage.

"I know that, Jeeves, but you did once have that understanding with a cook. I only ask because, well... I want to see you happy. I can't bear the thought of you sticking with me through a sense of duty if your happiness lies elsewhere."

"It is not a situation I find likely, Sir."

"But... if there were anyone, Jeeves, you'd not be afraid to tell me? You know, because of, well... my feelings? You'd not let yourself be held back by fears of breaking the Wooster heart? It worries me, sometimes, and I think I should never have told you. I just thought you ought to know that I'd see you off to your new life with a smile on my face and a substantial gift in your pocket... and I'd like you to know you could come to me any time, if you needed anything."

"Your generosity humbles me, Sir." I said though I fear there may have been a little frost in my tone.

"Oh, it's not generosity, Jeeves. You are a jewel without price, and... well... the hardest thing for me, you know, is that I've no idea how to make you as happy as I want to. I'd do anything, if it would make you happy."

"At this precise juncture I would appreciate it if you would cease the current thread of conversation, Sir," I admitted. "You are making me somewhat uncomfortable, and I should not wish to be distracted from the road."

"I'm sorry, Jeeves," he murmured. "Consider the subject dropped."

"It is of no consequence, Sir. But I have no intention of leaving your service."

"Glad to hear it, Jeeves." he informed me brightly, though he remained silent and somewhat withdrawn for the rest of the journey.

Mr Wooster's glances in my direction were decidedly more guarded for the next two weeks and he did not declare himself to me at all, though he indulged at his club quite often, returning on some occasions barely able to walk. While I could tell that he longed to sing the praises of the many virtues he chose to see in me, he nevertheless refrained from doing so despite his inebriation, presumably thinking that doing so would cause me the same discomfort it had as we returned from the countryside.

"I have been thinking, Sir," I said as he played the piano one afternoon, "About the conversation which took place in your automobile a fortnight ago."

His playing faltered for a moment before he turned to me with a smile. "You have?"

"Indeed, Sir. More precisely, I have been thinking about your apparent desire for my happiness."

"Aha! So there is something the young master can do for you, then, Jeeves? Merely ask, and it is yours. A cruise, perhaps, or to take longer than the usual two weeks for your shrimping?"

"No, Sir. While I have no doubt that I would find both those scenarios most enjoyable for their duration, I was dwelling on a more enduring arrangement. You mentioned that it was your wish that I find a suitable partner with whom to spend my life."

He hid his pain with impressive speed, but nonetheless, I saw it before he managed to do so. In that instant, I saw that despite his words as I drove, his heart was breaking.

"Ah, yes, Jeeves, indeed I did. Has the Jeevesian eye been caught?"

"It has, Sir, as has my heart. Indeed, I have been in love for some time, however, I did not... that is to say, Sir, that I have been betrayed in the arena of love before, and so am rather cautious in such endeavours. I have, therefore, been wary, lest the object of my affections should not be as devoted to me as they would at first have had me believe."

"You are a wise man, Jeeves," he said brightly, the insinuation of his own foolishness there but left unsaid. "But you're sure now, what? Cupid's arrow has struck true this time?"

"I believe it to have done so, Sir."

"Well then, Jeeves, I must hear all about it."

I allowed myself a small smile. "Certainly, Sir. What I had assumed was but a passing fancy, or a physical attraction mistaken for something deeper seems truly to have been the purest form of love. I have no doubt that my happiness lies in spending my life with someone who may be considered my opposite – a creature possessed of fair hair, a willowy frame, and a most open and generous heart, even in times of great pain. I believe, Sir, that I am genuinely loved not just for my physical attributes, the appeal of which escapes me, but for my mind and personality on which, I hope, time's ravages will have a less pronounced effect. Indeed, while I cannot deny that I find the object of my affections to be most attractive physically, it is that beauty of spirit which I trust will provide me with lifelong happiness."

"It certainly sounds like the real thing to me, Jeeves. Will the two of you be working in the same household?"

"No, Sir. While I myself do not believe I could be truly happy without gainful employment, the same cannot be said of the object of my affections."

"Well, no, I suppose not. She'll want to be feathering the nest, devoting herself to making your home life as perfect as possible. Quite as it should be. But you have a suitable positioned lined up, Jeeves? You'll not be short of the old folding?"

"No, Sir, I believe my wage shall be quite sufficient for my needs."

"Well then, I suppose that's all that needs to be said, though I trust you'll accept a little something to help you get set up? And you'll keep in touch, drop me the odd telegram to let me know how you're getting on? I... Even if it weren't for... well, I hope you've come to think of me as a friend, rather than just your employer? When do you plan to be off?"

"That will depend on the success of my afternoon off, Sir, as I intend to make my feelings known. I have yet to claim my first kiss, and I must admit, I have become somewhat impatient to do so."

"Yes," he said, "Yes, I suppose you must be. Well... You'll forgive me for saying that I hope it's not goodbye, Jeeves," he said, holding out his hand. "But toodle-pip, what?"

"Indeed, Sir," I said, taking the offered hand and shaking it firmly. I released his hand and he smiled at me once more, and I nodded my head. Suddenly, he had engulfed me in a desperate hug. "You make sure she knows, though, Jeeves, if she does ever hurt you, she'll have me to answer to. Code of the Woosters or no, there'll be no hiding from me."

"I am gratified to hear it, Sir," I said disentangling myself as subtly as I was able. "But perhaps, in the circumstances, as we have already somewhat overstepped the boundaries of gentleman and valet, a goodbye kiss might be fitting?"

"There's no need for that, Jeeves. You belong to another. I couldn't possibly."

"I am afraid, Sir, that you did not disguise your true feelings in this matter with sufficient speed for it to escape my notice. I would consider it remiss of me not to offer you so small a token."

Without awaiting his response, I took his face in my hands as tenderly as I was able and placed a chaste and gentle kiss upon his lips. As I drew back, I saw the slightest hint of a tremor about his lips and the glint of tears in his eyes.

"I say! Well, whoever she is, Jeeves," he said, forcing another smile, "She's a dashed lucky girl if you kiss her like that, that's what I say."

I inclined my head once more and headed to the kitchen to retrieve my coat before leaving the flat.

It was roughly half an hour later when I returned carrying a bottle of fine champagne, a large bouquet of red roses and with some smaller items in my pockets. Mr Wooster was nowhere to be seen, but I noticed that the bathroom door was closed, so I sat on the sofa while I waited for him to emerge. I did not doubt that he had heard me enter, as there had been a small crash shortly after the door had closed. While I had sat on the sofa before, it felt most strange to be doing so now. When Mr Wooster appeared he had hastily attempted to see to his appearance, but nevertheless, it was obvious that he had been crying. It takes more than a few moments and a splash of water to erase the tracks tears leave on the cheeks and for the puffiness of the eyes to reduce.

"Jeeves!" he exclaimed, "What on earth are you doing back? Is she not at home? She can't have turned you down, surely? You were so certain of a favourable result!"

"No, Sir, I have yet to declare myself." He sat on the sofa beside me, looking somewhat confused.

"Well... why are you back? Do you need some advice on how best to go about it? I can't say my advice would be much use, but I'm sure Bingo would be happy to help."

I shook my head. "I do not believe Mr Little would be of any assistance in this endeavour, Sir."

"A little dutch courage, then?"

"Thank you, Sir, but no. Sir... when I spoke earlier, I mentioned fair hair, a willowy frame, a kind heart and considerable generosity of spirit... I was wondering if perhaps you recognised anyone of this description?"

"Well, Jeeves, I can't say I'm all that likely to be acquainted with any of the beazels you'd know. I suppose she's a serious-minded sort of girl with it, given to reading improving books?"

"No, Sir. I doubt that my heart could have been stolen so easily by someone of so similar a disposition to myself."

"Well then, no, Jeeves. I don't know who you mean."

"Perhaps, Sir, if I said that it was an individual for whom I have regrettably caused considerable distress in recent times?"

"Ah, well, Jeeves, I'd not worry about that over much. If she's half the girl you say she is, then I'm sure she'll understand that you were just being a bit cautious, what? She'll forgive you, I'm certain of it."

"Would you forgive me, Sir, for the distress I have caused you?"

Mr Wooster sighed. "Jeeves, there's nothing to forgive. Anything I've suffered is entirely my own doing. It's not as though you encouraged me, is it? You've put up with my mooning over you for... gosh, it must be months, and you only complained that once. If anyone deserves an apology, old fruit, it's you." He treated me to a surprisingly genuine grin. "Besides, I'd suffer it a thousand times over for that kiss."

I smiled in return, and looked away. "Sir... I am afraid I have misled you. I do not intend to marry."

His brow wrinkled in confusion. "You don't?"

"No, Sir. These flowers are for you. I am afraid I could not think of a more fitting symbol to present to the male of the species."

Mr Wooster took the bouquet, but looked at it mournfully. "Don't, Jeeves."

"Sir?"

"Don't do this. I... I'm sorry. I'll try to behave, honestly I will. Not another word will pass these lips upon the subject. But I told you before, I can't... Jeeves, it's love or nothing for me. I won't let you just... just pretend like this. I know it must be terribly uncomfortable for you, I've been there myself all too often remember... but I... I can't let you do this."

"I do not understand, Sir."

"It's... it's all too easy, when someone's mooning over you like this to... well, it happens all the time in books, doesn't it? A filly spends months mooching around lovesick over some cove who's not interested and then eventually she wears him down until he starts to think it's what he wants too, gives in and marries her. But it's not love, Jeeves, it's just... an escape from the discomfort of being mooned over. It might work in stories, but not in real life."

"You believe that my feelings for you are false, Sir?"

"Not false, Jeeves, just... misplaced. You care for the young master, I don't doubt, and I'm sure you spent a long time throwing it around that fish-fed brain of yours... but this isn't a matter for minds, Jeeves, it's about hearts, and... there's no reasoning with the heart."

"You may recall, Sir, that I said that I had been in love for some time, and had merely been wary of the fact that your professed devotion to me might not be as enduring as you suspected?"

"Indeed, Jeeves, indeed. But however many weeks ago it was that you decided that there were worse recipients for the Jeevesian affections than this Wooster..."

"Years, Sir," I interrupted him.

"Sorry?"

"It has been years, Sir. That is why I was so cautious. Had my own attachment to you been a recent development, then I suspect that I would have been somewhat more rash in my actions. However, I had become used to hiding my feelings, as I had never expected them to be returned. When you began to suspect your own nature, I felt it best to continue to conceal mine, lest I cause you to come to an incorrect conclusion. When you declared your love for me, I fear I did you the disservice of assuming that it was but a passing infatuation, or that you perhaps considered me a sufficiently unlikely partner that it would never be necessary to test whether you could act on those feelings."

As I spoke, Mr Wooster continued to stare at the flowers, and did not answer.

"I will understand, Sir, if you do not feel that you can attach yourself to so mistrustful and deceitful a man as myself. I will put away the champagne and dispose of the floral arrangement."

"No!" he gasped, pulling the flowers to himself. "You really mean it, Jeeves? I'm not... I didn't bang my head and dream all this?"

"No, Sir. I am most assuredly real, and I do love you most ardently."

I saw tears once again springing to his eyes. "And... it's for life, Jeeves? If we do this, I mean... you're not going to realise further down the line that you've made a terrible mistake tying yourself to a mentally negligible..." his breath caught in his throat, not quite a sob, and he squeezed his eyes shut to try to prevent further tears from escaping. He was not entirely successful.

I withdrew a box from my pocket. "I thought, perhaps, Sir, that while the more traditional exchange of rings would cause comment, that matching tie-pins might serve the same purpose between us and be less inclined to arouse suspicion."

He opened his eyes, wiped at them with the back of his hand and then took the box from me as though it held a delicate treasure rather than regrettably inexpensive articles of gentleman's attire. I had been limited in my choices, as too fine an item and my wearing it would cause comment. Too plain, and it would be equally as unexpected on Mr Wooster. However, as soon as I had seen these particular pieces, I had known that they were equally suited to us both.

"Till death do us part, Jeeves?" he murmured, "With this tie-pin, I thee wed?"

"They were purchased with that sentiment in mind, Sir."

He nodded, and hiccoughed. "I do, Jeeves," he whispered.

I carefully removed his existing tie-pin and replaced it with one from the box he held.

"As do I, Sir." I murmured in return. He smiled at me and replaced my own tie-pin.

"Well, then, Jeeves," he said, wiping at his eyes once again. "I believe it's traditional at this juncture for the groom to kiss the, uhm, groom, I suppose."

"Very good, Sir," I replied, and leaned forward to capture his lips. As I withdrew he licked his lips and grinned at me, his smile truly reaching his eyes for the first time in so long I had almost forgotten what it looked like. After seeing such pain there and knowing that I was the cause of it, it was a sight I found beautiful beyond my ability to express.

"Let's get that bally champagne open," he said clapping his hands together. "While we drink it, I suppose we should discuss where to spend our honeymoon, what? That cruise sounds like a dashed good idea."

"I am afraid I could not agree, Sir. I believe that travel to an exotic location would be both wasteful and unwise."

"Nonsense, Jeeves, I want to take you to see every marvel the world has to offer. I hope you know that every penny in the Wooster coffers is at your disposal?"

"I merely meant to suggest, Sir, that the confines of a cruise-ship would afford us little privacy, and, I admit, there are other matters to which I would rather devote my attentions for the time being and so I fear I would not display the appropriate enthusiasm for our surroundings. There is a remote farm cottage in Sussex which I feel would be far more suitable for that purpose."

"I don't follow, Jeeves."

"A great shame, Sir," I continued, not quite able to maintain my usual mask and allowing the hint of a smirk to grace my lips, "as it would afford me the privacy required to conduct an in-depth study of how to make you come."

"Jeeves!" he exclaimed, shocked, a blush creeping into his cheeks.

"Sir?"

"Make the arrangements at once."

"I have taken the liberty of doing so already, Sir. I felt that in the event you were not, after all, as receptive to my advances as I had hoped, that it would also prove to be a suitable location in which to lick my wounds, as the saying goes."

"From now on, Jeeves, any wounds you need licked, I shall be the one to lick them." His blush deepened. "Or anything else you want licked, for that matter."

"Very good, Sir. I shall open the champagne."

"Actually, Jeeves..."

"Sir?"

"Do you think you could have us packed and off in time to get there tonight?"

"I believe so, Sir."

"Then hop to it, my good man. We can have the champagne when we arrive."

"An excellent plan, Sir."

The cottage was located on a hill and could be approached only by a single track which I would hesitate to call a road. The vehicle managed this last part of the journey without incident but not without considerable strain. The building itself was very old, and sported thick stone walls and small windows. Inside, it was simply but comfortably appointed, and the larder was well-stocked.

Though I could tell that Mr Wooster was impatient to begin our life as lovers, and had gathered that he was not entirely inexperienced in this arena, he was also nervous, and neither of us had eaten for some hours, so I prepared a simple dinner as quickly as I could, leaving the champagne to chill. Once we had eaten, I opened the champagne and joined Mr Wooster on the small, overstuffed sofa.

"To us," Mr Wooster said, and insisted that we took our first sip with our arms linked as he had seen a couple do last time he was in America. It was a somewhat awkward procedure, but he seemed to be pleased at its success. When both glasses were finished, I gave in to my desire at last and leaned forward to kiss my master – at last to be my lover and for all that it mattered to us, my spouse – and as he melted into my embrace and deepened the kiss, I reflected that perhaps I ought to thank Mr Little for his pornographic images after all. Without them, it might easily have been the case that Mr Wooster's nature would have remained unknown to us both.

As I had expected, neither of us felt particularly inclined to explore the surrounding landscape, which was fortunate as the weather remained decidedly inclement for the duration of our stay. Away from the more familiar surroundings, I felt more able to relax my usual sartorial standards, and indeed, only bothered to dress at all to prepare and consume our meals, a situation which I believe Mr Wooster found as agreeable as I myself did.

While there was an attempt at addressing each other in a more informal manner, such attempts seemed somewhat comedic, and caused considerably more awkwardness than our newly habitual nakedness had done. Mr Wooster lived up to his assertion that he would do anything to ensure my happiness, and indeed, gleefully offered me many pleasures which I would never have dared to request. By the time we returned home, there were few carnal activities I could think of which we had not at some point indulged in, though he has proved sufficiently inventive in the years since that many new acts have been added to our private repertoire.

True to his nature, Mr Wooster seemed to take the greatest pleasure from those acts which gave the greatest pleasure to me, and so while I continued to address him as Sir, and to consider him my master, it has almost always been the case that in the bedroom I am the one to take on the superior role. Our life together has not always been perfect, and indeed, as with any marriage, there have been disagreements, even arguments, but these have always been dealt with satisfactorily. At times I have suspected my master of engineering such disagreements due to the exceptionally pleasurable nature of the nights following their resolution.

Mrs Gregson's attempts at seeking a matrimonial alliance for her nephew continued for some years but the successful conclusion of her many plans was always avoided and so eventually such attentions were turned onto Master Claude and Master Eustace, with a matching lack of success. As I had predicted, we were never in danger of exposure, though I admit I believe that Mrs Travers may have suspected the truth. On more than one occasion she informed me that I should consider myself part of the family and tried to encourage me to step beyond the bounds of acceptable behaviour for a valet, but I always resisted such suggestions as far as possible.

The esteemed ladies are no longer with us, and indeed, Mr Wooster's circle of friends has been somewhat depleted. The Drones long ago ceased to be Mr Wooster's club of choice as he began to find the younger members less congenial company. The membership of the Junior Ganymede too has been greatly reduced, and the establishment moved to more modest premises, which I find more difficult to reach. On the occasions I do attend, I am held in some reverence by the younger members, though my role is now considered something of an amusing anachronism to those outside the profession.

Indeed, I have occasionally been asked if I resent my life of service, and my replies to the effect that I cannot imagine my life having been so happy had it been otherwise have often caused confusion. On one somewhat alarming occasion, my horrified reaction to the suggestion that my choice to serve Mr Wooster for life was 'romantic' caused a young lady considerable mirth. I cannot help but wonder if she would have found it so amusing had she known that my reaction was one of concern that she had hit upon the truth, rather than disgust at the insinuation.

While his youthful good looks have long since faded and his fair hair turned mostly to white, Mr Wooster continues to be as cheerful and sprightly as he has always been, and while he does occasionally bring some of the regrettable music of these times into our home, he still prefers to play the songs of his youth, and I find that when he does, I find I can see him just as he was then. If I am not quite so straight of back recently as I was in earlier years and somewhat greater of girth, he has never commented on it, except to say how pleasant he finds it to curl against my side as we sleep.

Mr Little never mentioned the photographs again, and so I never did get to thank him.