Jeeves and the Strenuous Negotiation
Summary: What might have happened in 1x05 "Brinkley Manor" at some point.
Rating: PG-13 for slight sexual overtones. Or undertones. Or just tones.
Author's Notelet: I have no idea why this fic... happened. Ever. Inbreeding, clearly.
"…the doctor says it’s better for me, anyway," finished Barmy, taking a drag from his cigarette.
"Good morning, Mr. Fotheringay-Phipps," said Jeeves, opening the door into Bertie Wooster’s apartment.
"Morning, Jeeves."
"Mr. Wooster."
Bertie peered around the kitchen door. "Good morning, Jeeves! I’m just making some tea," said he, emerging from the kitchen clasping Mrs Beeton’s hefty tome.
"Really, sir?" replied Jeeves. "Perhaps I could be of some-"
"No, no, I’ve gone off the idea of tea altogether now you’ve walked in. I don’t suppose you’re in the mood for a spot of fellatio?"
"Very good, sir," purred Jeeves, moving in to plant an open-mouthed kiss on his employer’s smiling lips. They moved together, tongues sliding, hands grasping at fabric-
"CUT!"
The director’s cry ripped through the air as he came striding towards Stephen and Hugh, a scowl on his usually friendly countenance.
"Look, you can’t just go off on a homosexual tangent every time one of you gets bored. If this carries on we’ll never get this series finished."
"At least not in a way that we can show on the BBC," added Adam, somewhat unhelpfully.
"I’m sorry, what?" replied Hugh, emerging briefly from his exploration of Stephen’s tonsils.
"Oh, for heaven’s sake. Alright! Stephen doesn’t have to sing and Hugh doesn’t have to do that topless scene."
"Thank you," said Stephen, straightening and wiping his mouth delicately. "From the beginning?"
The End
Rating: PG-13 for slight sexual overtones. Or undertones. Or just tones.
Author's Notelet: I have no idea why this fic... happened. Ever. Inbreeding, clearly.
"…the doctor says it’s better for me, anyway," finished Barmy, taking a drag from his cigarette.
"Good morning, Mr. Fotheringay-Phipps," said Jeeves, opening the door into Bertie Wooster’s apartment.
"Morning, Jeeves."
"Mr. Wooster."
Bertie peered around the kitchen door. "Good morning, Jeeves! I’m just making some tea," said he, emerging from the kitchen clasping Mrs Beeton’s hefty tome.
"Really, sir?" replied Jeeves. "Perhaps I could be of some-"
"No, no, I’ve gone off the idea of tea altogether now you’ve walked in. I don’t suppose you’re in the mood for a spot of fellatio?"
"Very good, sir," purred Jeeves, moving in to plant an open-mouthed kiss on his employer’s smiling lips. They moved together, tongues sliding, hands grasping at fabric-
"CUT!"
The director’s cry ripped through the air as he came striding towards Stephen and Hugh, a scowl on his usually friendly countenance.
"Look, you can’t just go off on a homosexual tangent every time one of you gets bored. If this carries on we’ll never get this series finished."
"At least not in a way that we can show on the BBC," added Adam, somewhat unhelpfully.
"I’m sorry, what?" replied Hugh, emerging briefly from his exploration of Stephen’s tonsils.
"Oh, for heaven’s sake. Alright! Stephen doesn’t have to sing and Hugh doesn’t have to do that topless scene."
"Thank you," said Stephen, straightening and wiping his mouth delicately. "From the beginning?"
The End