Final Chapter
Title: What Ho, Biggles!
Pairing: Jeeves/ Wooster, Algy/ Biggles,
Characters: Jeeves, Wooster, Raymond, Ginger, Bertie Lissie, Biggles, Algy, sundry unsavoury characters
Rating: PG
Summary: Biggles locked in a room with two Berties, steadily going mad. The end of the case.
The other Bertie - Lissie, the man I was supposed to be being - was a frightfully cheerful sort of a cove, and jolly interesting to boot. Usually these excursions into someone else’s life end up with self bundled out of the way while Jeeves goes fishing in the soup and makes it all right-side-up as it were. This time, whilst Jeeves had, of course, done the lion’s share of the work, the other four gents, of whom Lissie was but one, had done a heck of a lot too. A small voice in the Wooster onion hoped this would prevent him from being too tired. Lissie was explaining all of the twists and turns that had been a part of his trip to the hospital. It was frightfully good; at least as good as the books I like to curl up with on a chilly winter’s day.
It turned out that these chappies were air detectives. Full of the knowledge of flying aircraft and the uncanny ability to think, they’d abandoned a life of luxury to slog it out using their brain. I must say, they did a dashed fine job too. Bertie and his chums had worked out that there was a spy afoot, smuggling out information about the jolly old Home Office, and sending it off to foreign fields. Gripping stuff, and with a few twists and turns which he explained to me once I grasped the basic concept.
***
“He’s telling that fool everything” Biggles grumbled, cigarette case now being turned end over end in his slim fingers, “how does he know that he can trust him?”
“He helped us out of a tight spot” Algy countered reasonably, “and he certainly knows some good people.”
Biggles couldn’t prevent his eyebrow raising an eighth of an inch, “his valet was a blanket man whom you happen to remember from forty years ago…I hardly think that’s a ringing endorsement.”
“His valet was a mate to the Quarter Master who happened to be able to get me some particularly good stores. I certainly didn’t hear you complaining at the time! You seemed to quite like the non-itchy blankets.” Out of necessity they were keeping their voices low, but the hurt and frustration were clear. Algy was feeling claustrophobic again. “Just because I remember someone doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re going to play an important role in my future. I remember my school masters but they’re all dead! There’s plenty of people you remember who are no longer our concern and once this is over I’m sure Jeeves and Mr Wooster will fall into the same category.” Tirade over Algy relented. There was, after all, such a thing as protesting too much, and Biggles was probably just worried. That was one thing that had never stopped. “Anyway” he said quickly, “what did Raymond have to say?”
Biggles subsided, oddly reassured by Algy’s quick dismissal of the whole idea. “Nothing much. We couldn’t talk very clearly because it’s an open line of course, but he seemed rather chuffed. His one odd comment was that there could be more to come.”
The man opposite him shrugged, regarding Biggles with a hint of fondness now he knew that there was nothing thundery between them, “we’ll make sure Bertie doesn’t go and do anything dangerous alone then. That should sort them out!” Glancing across at the bed he realised they still hadn’t stopped talking and their incessant chatter was putting his room-mate off his stride.
***
“It’s all jolly interesting” I said again, while my new found friend (and working man!) was taking on some more water, “it’s like your whole life is one of those detective stories.”
“Well in a way it is” he preened his moustache, shaking off the errant water droplets, “running around and saving the world and so on. Of course Biggles does most of it but now and then it takes a real gentleman to…ease the cogs of social intervention, if you will.”
“Ease the cogs of social intervention?!” Biggles mouthed at Algy, “ease the cogs?!” his face was a comical mix of confusion and amusement and Algy grinned, hastily hiding it behind a hand.
“There’s a bit of a change of pace between this and the life before the jolly old war, but that can’t be helped if you want to keep evil at bay, what?” Bertie continued to chat.
“Absolutely not!” I chirruped, “can’t say that we had it easy but we got through, if a bit scathed. If your worst scar is a job well, some fellows didn’t come back at all, eh?”
“Quite right!” Lissie agreed, “I could have lost a leg or two like that Bader chappy but as it is, just lost my carefree constant holiday.”
Algy was in silent fits of laughter throughout this exchange as Biggles’ face got more and more frustrated and comical. There were so few moments when the leader of their crew was genuinely confused that it was quite something to watch the confusion growing, the air becoming thicker as it picked up smoke and heat from Biggles’ whirling thoughts. There was more of a frown appearing on that wrinkled brow as the two Berties chatted on in the typically round-about way of the noblesse, completely disregarding any suggestion their English was descended from Shakespeare (as Biggles would later complain while Algy laughed and put away his clothes). Biggles was so confused, in fact, that when Jeeves first returned with Ginger it was to Algy he addressed himself.
“There’s a message from Scotland Yard, sir.”
Algy stopped laughing and looked up at Jeeves, “Yes Jeeves?” Even the two Berties had sort of stopped and were now just watching, intrigued.
“Yes sir. Saying they have the right men and they look forward to finishing off their report with you next week, whenever it is most convenient.”
As soon as Jeeves got in and delivered his message the atmosphere of the room changed. Biggles and Algy both jumped up and started gathering their things, the former still clasping a dashed silly looking cigarette. Well I mean to say, they were big things and he has little hands better fitting a lady so they looked like monstrous great cigars!
“Come on Bertie.” Algy said, reaching past me for the Bertie in bed, “we’ll head off and enjoy free living till Monday. If they can deal without us we don’t want Raymond thinking of something else to do.” You’d have thought that a friend of Jeeves’ would be straight as the noonday shadow but this fellows eyes gave an odd set of darts around the room as he said it, as if he couldn’t stop checking to make sure Biggles wasn’t being terrorised by one of the Nurses. I mentioned it to Jeeves as we made our own way back to the flat the next day, that paragon of Valet’s holding my bag and being a steadying influence, having promised the Nurses to ensure I got plenty of bed rest.
“Dashed odd. Grown man should be able to look out for Nurses without his friends help, shouldn’t you think Jeeves?”
“Certainly sir” Jeeves had agreed, his lips turning up almost perceptibly as he held the front door open for me, “provided, of course, he is worrying about Nurses and not, shall we say, Doctors.”
“I say, Jeeves!” I I-sayyed, “is that a hunch or something that you learnt in France?”
“Just a hunch, sir. Drink?”
“Very good Jeeves. Pour yourself one too, eh?”
“Very good sir.” And it was.
***
The return to their flat for the aviators was rather less amenable. Even if they’d wanted to (and James wasn’t entirely sure how he felt at the moment thanks, in the main, to his dizzying spell with not one but two Berties, each as bad as the other), the oldest friends couldn’t exactly curl up on the couch with a glass of something together without the other two thinking something was up. Bertie himself was feeling a little bit worse for wear and retired to his room but Ginger was full of excitement and insisted on hanging around chatting and gesticulating until Biggles managed to pack him off to the movies.
“He’s a man now, Biggles. He can look after himself you know.” There was more than a hint of a smile tinging Algy’s lips.
James leant closer, kissing the smile hidden in Algy’s lips, “do you want me to ask him back?” he asked, completely seriously. Algy managed to affect nonchalance, “if you think you’ll be lonely. I’m a bit tired from all of that running around. I’m going to bed.” James just shrugged, “suit yourself old boy,” but as soon as Algy stood and started walking away, he was following right behind. Smugglers and Spies could wait, or perhaps be someone else’s problem for a while.
Pairing: Jeeves/ Wooster, Algy/ Biggles,
Characters: Jeeves, Wooster, Raymond, Ginger, Bertie Lissie, Biggles, Algy, sundry unsavoury characters
Rating: PG
Summary: Biggles locked in a room with two Berties, steadily going mad. The end of the case.
The other Bertie - Lissie, the man I was supposed to be being - was a frightfully cheerful sort of a cove, and jolly interesting to boot. Usually these excursions into someone else’s life end up with self bundled out of the way while Jeeves goes fishing in the soup and makes it all right-side-up as it were. This time, whilst Jeeves had, of course, done the lion’s share of the work, the other four gents, of whom Lissie was but one, had done a heck of a lot too. A small voice in the Wooster onion hoped this would prevent him from being too tired. Lissie was explaining all of the twists and turns that had been a part of his trip to the hospital. It was frightfully good; at least as good as the books I like to curl up with on a chilly winter’s day.
It turned out that these chappies were air detectives. Full of the knowledge of flying aircraft and the uncanny ability to think, they’d abandoned a life of luxury to slog it out using their brain. I must say, they did a dashed fine job too. Bertie and his chums had worked out that there was a spy afoot, smuggling out information about the jolly old Home Office, and sending it off to foreign fields. Gripping stuff, and with a few twists and turns which he explained to me once I grasped the basic concept.
***
“He’s telling that fool everything” Biggles grumbled, cigarette case now being turned end over end in his slim fingers, “how does he know that he can trust him?”
“He helped us out of a tight spot” Algy countered reasonably, “and he certainly knows some good people.”
Biggles couldn’t prevent his eyebrow raising an eighth of an inch, “his valet was a blanket man whom you happen to remember from forty years ago…I hardly think that’s a ringing endorsement.”
“His valet was a mate to the Quarter Master who happened to be able to get me some particularly good stores. I certainly didn’t hear you complaining at the time! You seemed to quite like the non-itchy blankets.” Out of necessity they were keeping their voices low, but the hurt and frustration were clear. Algy was feeling claustrophobic again. “Just because I remember someone doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re going to play an important role in my future. I remember my school masters but they’re all dead! There’s plenty of people you remember who are no longer our concern and once this is over I’m sure Jeeves and Mr Wooster will fall into the same category.” Tirade over Algy relented. There was, after all, such a thing as protesting too much, and Biggles was probably just worried. That was one thing that had never stopped. “Anyway” he said quickly, “what did Raymond have to say?”
Biggles subsided, oddly reassured by Algy’s quick dismissal of the whole idea. “Nothing much. We couldn’t talk very clearly because it’s an open line of course, but he seemed rather chuffed. His one odd comment was that there could be more to come.”
The man opposite him shrugged, regarding Biggles with a hint of fondness now he knew that there was nothing thundery between them, “we’ll make sure Bertie doesn’t go and do anything dangerous alone then. That should sort them out!” Glancing across at the bed he realised they still hadn’t stopped talking and their incessant chatter was putting his room-mate off his stride.
***
“It’s all jolly interesting” I said again, while my new found friend (and working man!) was taking on some more water, “it’s like your whole life is one of those detective stories.”
“Well in a way it is” he preened his moustache, shaking off the errant water droplets, “running around and saving the world and so on. Of course Biggles does most of it but now and then it takes a real gentleman to…ease the cogs of social intervention, if you will.”
“Ease the cogs of social intervention?!” Biggles mouthed at Algy, “ease the cogs?!” his face was a comical mix of confusion and amusement and Algy grinned, hastily hiding it behind a hand.
“There’s a bit of a change of pace between this and the life before the jolly old war, but that can’t be helped if you want to keep evil at bay, what?” Bertie continued to chat.
“Absolutely not!” I chirruped, “can’t say that we had it easy but we got through, if a bit scathed. If your worst scar is a job well, some fellows didn’t come back at all, eh?”
“Quite right!” Lissie agreed, “I could have lost a leg or two like that Bader chappy but as it is, just lost my carefree constant holiday.”
Algy was in silent fits of laughter throughout this exchange as Biggles’ face got more and more frustrated and comical. There were so few moments when the leader of their crew was genuinely confused that it was quite something to watch the confusion growing, the air becoming thicker as it picked up smoke and heat from Biggles’ whirling thoughts. There was more of a frown appearing on that wrinkled brow as the two Berties chatted on in the typically round-about way of the noblesse, completely disregarding any suggestion their English was descended from Shakespeare (as Biggles would later complain while Algy laughed and put away his clothes). Biggles was so confused, in fact, that when Jeeves first returned with Ginger it was to Algy he addressed himself.
“There’s a message from Scotland Yard, sir.”
Algy stopped laughing and looked up at Jeeves, “Yes Jeeves?” Even the two Berties had sort of stopped and were now just watching, intrigued.
“Yes sir. Saying they have the right men and they look forward to finishing off their report with you next week, whenever it is most convenient.”
As soon as Jeeves got in and delivered his message the atmosphere of the room changed. Biggles and Algy both jumped up and started gathering their things, the former still clasping a dashed silly looking cigarette. Well I mean to say, they were big things and he has little hands better fitting a lady so they looked like monstrous great cigars!
“Come on Bertie.” Algy said, reaching past me for the Bertie in bed, “we’ll head off and enjoy free living till Monday. If they can deal without us we don’t want Raymond thinking of something else to do.” You’d have thought that a friend of Jeeves’ would be straight as the noonday shadow but this fellows eyes gave an odd set of darts around the room as he said it, as if he couldn’t stop checking to make sure Biggles wasn’t being terrorised by one of the Nurses. I mentioned it to Jeeves as we made our own way back to the flat the next day, that paragon of Valet’s holding my bag and being a steadying influence, having promised the Nurses to ensure I got plenty of bed rest.
“Dashed odd. Grown man should be able to look out for Nurses without his friends help, shouldn’t you think Jeeves?”
“Certainly sir” Jeeves had agreed, his lips turning up almost perceptibly as he held the front door open for me, “provided, of course, he is worrying about Nurses and not, shall we say, Doctors.”
“I say, Jeeves!” I I-sayyed, “is that a hunch or something that you learnt in France?”
“Just a hunch, sir. Drink?”
“Very good Jeeves. Pour yourself one too, eh?”
“Very good sir.” And it was.
***
The return to their flat for the aviators was rather less amenable. Even if they’d wanted to (and James wasn’t entirely sure how he felt at the moment thanks, in the main, to his dizzying spell with not one but two Berties, each as bad as the other), the oldest friends couldn’t exactly curl up on the couch with a glass of something together without the other two thinking something was up. Bertie himself was feeling a little bit worse for wear and retired to his room but Ginger was full of excitement and insisted on hanging around chatting and gesticulating until Biggles managed to pack him off to the movies.
“He’s a man now, Biggles. He can look after himself you know.” There was more than a hint of a smile tinging Algy’s lips.
James leant closer, kissing the smile hidden in Algy’s lips, “do you want me to ask him back?” he asked, completely seriously. Algy managed to affect nonchalance, “if you think you’ll be lonely. I’m a bit tired from all of that running around. I’m going to bed.” James just shrugged, “suit yourself old boy,” but as soon as Algy stood and started walking away, he was following right behind. Smugglers and Spies could wait, or perhaps be someone else’s problem for a while.