Word Count: 500
Summary: Bertie is awoken earlier than usual.
Disclaimer: All my bases are belong to Wodehouse.
Author's Note: This is in response to a prompt from cosmicwaffles on a meme post I'd left yesterday. Her prompts were book, bed, and clock.
I heard Jeeves utter one of his customary throat-clearings just as my eyes started to open. I'd thought of snapping them shut again and trying for a bit more knitting up the raveled whatsis of care, but the man was insistent. Another discreet cough and I sat up, arranging the covers over my chest. He was standing close by the side of my bed, breakfast tray in his hands.
"Yes, Jeeves, what is it?" He placed the tray on my lap, and I sipped a few oz. of the old invigourating.
"Well, sir, you asked me to waken you by ten o'clock this morning. It is now 10:05."
My mind was bally well boggled by this; why would I have asked him to rouse me so early? The morning glories must be barely blooming; the birds must have hardly begun to tweet. I pondered a bit before speaking, bunging down some toast at the same time.
"I say, Jeeves, you wouldn't happen to know… that is, did I happen to mention…"
"Why you chose to be awoken at such an hour, sir?"
"Exactly, Jeeves. As always, you read me like a book."
Jeeves titled his head slightly. "Thank you, sir. I endeavour to give satisfaction. You asked me to awaken you, sir, as you have an engagement with your Aunt Agatha at two o'clock for luncheon."
Now my mind was well and truly at odds. I've never needed four hours to perform my ablutions and don the rags before. What the devil could I have been thinking?
"Jeeves, you'll have to assist the young master a bit more, I daresay. What the devil could I have been thinking to want to rise so early?"
At this, a dashed rare occurrence occurred. An intriguing pale-ish pink colour rose on Jeeves's face, spreading from his cheeks outward and tracing down his throat. He raised his fist to his mouth and delicately coughed into it.
Then, the old invigouring did its work to clear my sleep-fogged brain, and I knew. As I'd fallen asleep in his arms last night, I had asked him to rouse me early so that we would have sufficient time to again indulge the intimate aspects of our relationship before I had to biff off to Aunt A's.
I waved my hand over the tray on my lap. "Remove this blasted tray, Jeeves, and come to bed immediately."
He looked at me hungrily; I felt a thrill race through me. He took the tray, placing it on the settee against the wall by the wardrobe. I glanced at the clock on my night stand. Only ten minutes had passed, and we still had plenty of time to express our mutual affection and desire.
As he turned back to me and commenced removing his clothing, I turned down the bedclothes and eagerly waited for him to join me. I made a mental note of what a corking good idea this had been and to repeat it on a regular basis.