Pairing/Characters: Bertie Wooster; Reginald Jeeves
Fandom: Jeeves and Wooster
Word Count: 789
Summary: Bertie has a slight problem that Jeeves helps him with.
Notes/Warnings: No warnings, get your minds out of the gutter! *grin* A birthday present for zekkass on the occasion of her 16th birthday. Happy birthday, zekkass!
From the time I was a wee mite, I have always had trouble with my back. It's not very often, mind you. I could go for up to six months without a twinge from the old spine, going on with life as I usually do. Then, for some reason or other, my back decides it wants to remind me of its presence and doesn't simply twinge, but seizes up completely, refusing to work properly at all. Before I hired Jeeves as my man, I would take pain medicine and spend up to several days in bed, waiting for the pain to go away. After Jeeves started working for me, however, I didn't need the pain medicine any longer.
I woke one morning to the familiar sight of my man waiting patiently, a tray fully stocked with tea, eggs, bacon, and toast in his hands. "Good morning, Sir."
"What ho, Jeeves!" I started to sit up and gave a sort of gasp as my back chose that moment to seize up and refuse to move without a great deal of protest.
Jeeves was by my side in an instant, helping me ease into a sitting position, the breakfast tray set safely on the dresser. "Is something wrong, Sir?"
"Just my back, Jeeves," I tried for an airy tone of voice, but I'm afraid it came across more pained than airy. "Nothing to do for it except take medicine and wait for it to go away."
My man nodded and, after settling the tray in my lap, shimmered out of the room, presumably to wherever the pain medicine was kept when I had no need of it. I had managed to drink one cup of tea and nibble on a bit of toast by the time Jeeves returned, a somewhat concerned look upon his usually imperturbable visage. "I apologize, Sir, but there does not seem to be any pain medication anywhere in the flat."
Being a preux chevalier and all, I bit back a word that would have had my Aunt Agatha--a dragon of an aunt with sharp teeth and iron claws to rend unfortunate nephews to shreds--forbidding me to speak for the rest of the day. Instead, I simply groaned and resigned myself to having no relief from the pain as I waited for it to go on its own. As I contemplated such unhappy thoughts, Jeeves gave his usual delicate cough, attracting my attention. "Yes, Jeeves, what is it?"
"Perhaps a massage of the affected area would reduce the pain, Sir?" Jeeves suggested, his expression inscrutable, as always.
"A massage?" I repeated, feeling rather like a parrot at the moment. "Do you think it would work, Jeeves?"
"Yes, Sir," Jeeves answered calmly. "I am well versed in massage techniques and can be ready to perform such a service in less than ten minutes."
I meant to consider my valet's offer for at least a minute, but an inadvertent--I believe that's the correct word. I'll have to ask Jeeves later--shift sent pain shooting up my spine. Trying hard to keep the pain at bay, I nodded. "Yes, Jeeves, I'll try anything to make this bally pain go."
"Very good, Sir." Jeeves removed the untouched breakfast tray and helped me remove my pyjama shirt. This was accomplished with only a few gasps of pain from the Wooster personage. Once it was gone, my man assisted me in lying down on my stomach, accompanied by further gasps of pain. He left the room for what seemed like ages, but I have been since been informed that he was gone for less than a minute.
When he returned, my man was carrying a bottle of oil and a towel. As I watched, Jeeves removed his coat and rolled up his cuffs to avoid getting oil on them and I felt my heart start to beat faster for a reason I couldn't comprehend at the time. Once he'd ascertained the exact source of my back pain, Jeeves began the massage. It was bally wonderful, I can tell you. The pain was gone in moments, to tell the truth, but I was enjoying the massage so much that I lied when my man asked if I was still in pain, just so he would continue.
By the time the massage was over, I was a Wooster-shaped puddle of, well, something. I'd never felt so bally good so soon after my back chose to seize up. Needless to say, Jeeves never had to buy me pain medicine. His remedy for backaches was much better than all the medicine in the world. So much so that I sometimes pretended my back hurt, just so he would give me one of those wonderful massages.