Author's note, with background: "Are You Being Served" was a British comedy that ran from 1971 to 1985. It was set in the men's and women's department of a large department store in London, Grace Brothers. There was a core team of six: Captain Peacock, the floorwalker; Messrs. Grainger, Humphries, and Lucas, who worked on the men's counter, and Mrs. Slocombe and Miss Brahms, who worked on the ladies' counter. After the death of the actor who played the elderly Mr. Grainger, they tried several unsuccessful substitutes, and finally just wrote the part out and promoted Mr. Humphries into the role of senior salesman. Another regular was their bumbling, inept manager, Mr. Rumbold.
"Grace and Favour," (or "Are You Being Served...Again?" as it was known to American audiences) was a sequel to the original show. After Mr. Grace died, the remaining six employees discovered he had invested their pensions in an old manor house with a farm. Unfortunately for them, in order to live comfortably on their pensions, they had to live there at the Manor. This series also introduced two new regular characters, an uncouth old country farmer named Maurice Moulterd, and his beautiful daughter Mavis.
This story centers on Mr. Humphries and Mavis, who is half his age, and develops a crush on him in the show. Their friendship stayed platonic even though they shared a bed every night, but there were rumors of them getting married in season 3. Sadly, there were only 2 seasons of the show made. Their marriage would have been momentous, due to the fact that Mr. Humphries' character was portrayed in the original show as alternating between flamingly gay, mostly gay with the occasional dalliance with women, sexually ambiguous, and by the time Grace and Favour came around, almost completely asexual (he "hadn't been down that road in a very long time!").
In his personality, he was extremely effeminate, overly emotional, crying easily, shrieking and passing out often, and vain about his looks. He was a flirt with both men and women, but ran scared when anyone showed a serious interest in him. He dressed in drag, wore makeup, and often passed for female; he had an extremely close relationship with his mother, who phoned him several times a day. The writers and the actor who played him have all said he was very much a "mama's boy."
Mr. Humphries is not an author's usual choice of romantic lead; the biggest challenge in this story was writing a romance for him that didn't completely alter his personality. I know all loyal AYBS fans have their own interpretations of Mr. Humphries, and many differ from mine (especially as regards his sexuality, which many see as unremittingly gay, but which the actor and writers portrayed as more fluid). In the show, he had an active and extremely diverse social life, but few of his friendships ever went very deep. He would describe someone as a "close friend" whom he'd known for five minutes. There were also faint hints of sexual abuse in his past (as much as they could mention on a comedy show in the 70s), and in Grace and Favour he once comes to tears over how lonely his life has been. Now, in his mid-50s, he has retired to the country thinking he's too old for all that, and suddenly finds a whole new lease on life! That's the interpretation that I'm using here, and my explanation for why he might eventually succumb to such devotion as Mavis offered even if she wasn't his usual type. I've tried my best not to make the romance too treacly, but with a pair of characters as naturally sweet and inoffensive as those two, it was hard not to. So yes, it's extremely sweet and fluffy. Be warned.
Also, I am American, with ties to England and Scotland; therefore, I use a lot of British English slang and expressions, but with American spellings. I'm also using this story to experiment and practice with different points of view with limited omniscience. Please let me know if any of the points of view are unclear.
I also loathe plagiarism in all its forms, so I will freely say that certain aspects of this story have been loosely based on one called "Grace and Fury," by Mavis Moulterd-Humphries, which can be found in part on FFN and in its entirety on ArchiveOfOurOwn. The idea of Mr. Humphries using "Wil" as a nickname, of his letting Mavis sleep in while he does her chores, of making her breakfast in bed, and of Mavis's mother being named "Mary" were all based on that story. Otherwise, there is an extremely sharp departure from it (that author does alter Humphries' personality in major ways, and it's a lot darker than this story, but still a fun read-go look it up!).
Wilberforce C. Humphries climbed into bed and curled up on his side with a sigh of contentment. After decades of living in London, he was finding that the country made him feel like a new man! He felt quite young and fit again, with his daily "manly walks" and the physical exertion the farm demanded. He was physically stronger than he'd ever been before in his life, and the lifelong insomnia that had plagued him was gone. There was something about the country air that helped him sleep like a baby.
Or maybe something about his bed-mate.
Dismissing the thought with a bit of a blush, he rolled over on his back and reached for Wilfred, his teddy bear. Mavis hadn't come up yet, and he luxuriated for a moment in being able to stretch out his limbs without having to worry about touching her. Not that it was unpleasant, exactly, to accidentally touch her in the night; it was that it was pleasant to touch her. Uncomfortably so.
It didn't mean anything, of course. Just because she shared his bed with him, snuggled with him in the night, and kissed his cheek fairly often didn't mean that she meant anything to him like that. He reached up a chilly hand to cool his slightly flushed cheek—the one she had kissed in the kitchen a few days ago.
He was Wilberforce Claybourne Humphries, renowned for being bold and adventurous on the interpersonal front. He'd try anything with anyone, and often had. Yet this innocent young farm girl frightened him. In the dark, alone, clutching his bear, he was unable to lie to himself: one thing he had never tried before was being loved. He'd had friends and lovers of both sexes, yet no one had ever offered him the depth of devotion and care this young woman did. He'd gotten into countless scrapes (it wasn't easy even in these changing times, being so fey and effeminate), been mistreated, insulted, and even abused sometimes. Mavis' protective, undemanding affection was a balm to his soul.
His bold, adventurous self quailed in the face of genuine emotion such as hers. He'd always been quite affectionate and had plenty of friends, but his friendships tended to be light, surface things. He spared a fond thought for his old Grace Brothers pal, Mr. Lucas. The two of them had had fine times together at work, gotten up to mischief of all sorts, had a lot of laughs, and yet had rarely seen each other off the clock and had never been on a first-name basis aside from that disastrous "American week" that had been young Mr. Grace's brainchild. Lucas had never even known his preferred nickname, addressing him as "Claybourne" for the whole week. He had a brief flash of relief that Mr. Lucas had left Grace Brothers several years before, and not ended up there at the Manor with them. He just knew Lucas wouldn't have been able to keep his hands off Mavis!
Mavis's innocence and sweetness would have called to Lucas like a flower to a bee. She might even have ended up in Lucas' bed instead of his own. Oh, that was a disquieting thought. A wave of protective instinct washed over him and Wil cleared his throat uncomfortably. What was taking her so long, anyway? He shifted back over to his own side, leaving her plenty of room for when she did arrive. It would be impolite not to leave room for her. She might think he didn't want her there if she came up and found him using the whole bed. Last time she'd thought she was unwelcome there, she'd even offered to go and share with Captain Peacock, for heaven's sake! Wil could never allow that.
His possessive feelings took him by surprise, and he rolled over onto his side and curled up again with a sigh. He'd have time to analyze his feelings tomorrow after the morning chores were done. For right now, he was satisfied that she'd be up soon to share his bed—not Captain Peacock's, nor anyone else's. That beautiful, innocent, appealing young creature wanted to be with him more than with anyone else. With that deeply satisfying thought in mind, Wil tucked Wilfred under his chin and drifted off to sleep.
He didn't know how much later it was when he felt the mattress shift as Mavis got into bed. He felt her pull the blankets up over his shoulder and tuck him in a little better. He hadn't realized he was chilly, and he felt a flash of gratitude as he snuggled in and fell back into sleep. He was almost there when he felt her lips touch his cheek in a gentle but lingering kiss.
Wil opened one eye, and then the other. Mavis was lying there facing him, with her face scant inches from his own.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. 'Umphries," she whispered. "I 'adn't meant to wake you. I was just sayin' good night."
"Wil," he replied sleepily.
"Wha'?" she asked.
"Call me Wil, dear. My name is Wilberforce, you know, but only my mother calls me that."
"Oh, I'm not sure I could do tha', Mr. 'Umphries! It'd be too forward! People'd talk!"
Not paying attention to what he was doing, Wil reached out a single finger to brush away a lock of hair from her eyes. "Then perhaps when we're alone and it's just us," he suggested.
Mavis gave him a bashful smile. "I—I could do tha', I suppose. Wil," she added, with a blush.
Thoroughly charmed by her shyness, Wil gently stroked his finger down her cheek. "You're such a sweet little thing, aren't you," he murmured. "So much better than I deserve."
"Oh, no, Mr.—er, I mean Wil," she replied in a whisper. "I just want to take care o' you! You're not like any man I've ever known!"
"I've often been told that that," Wil said ruefully, thinking of his checkered past.
"It's true!" Mavis protested, taking his hand in both of hers and meeting his gaze seriously. "You're such a gentle man."
Wil smiled a little. "Well, I do try to be a gentleman."
"No, it's not tha'," Mavis said. She squeezed his hand. "I mean, yes, you're a gentleman—o' course you are! But what I mean is, you're so kind an' good. Not many men 'ave ever treated me like you do, Mr—I mean, Wil. Not even the chef, when he were in this bed—and 'im one of the quiet ones like you!—not even he treated me as nice as you do. 'E made me do things sometimes, and they weren't always very nice. But you're not like tha'. You care about people. You care... about me," she finished, shyly dropping her gaze. She nuzzled her cheek against the back of his hand, and then let go.
His heart went out to her, and before he knew what he was doing, he had gathered her into his arms and pulled her close. "I do care about you," he admitted. "Far more than I ought." She melted into him and sighed as he pressed his lips to her forehead in a tender kiss.
Then what she had said a moment ago registered with him, and he frowned. "But Mavis," he said.
She looked up at him, her heart shining in her eyes. "Yes, Wil?"
"No one should ever force you to do anything you don't want to do. Do you understand, dear? Not the chef, not Mr. Rumbold, not even your father. Not anyone, ever. I give you my word, I certainly never will!"
"Oh, I know tha', Wil! That's why I love you so much. You'd never force me to do anythin'! You're so gentle and kind. You're a real man, tha's what you are!"
"A real man" was something Wil had rarely been called before. He had made his life choices as they came, and many were unconventional, but no one had affirmed his manhood like that before. No one had ever taken his less manly traits, like his sweetness and gentleness, and told him that they were what made him a real man! And even more, that she loved him for them. This girl was astonishing. She made him feel like he could do anything!
The faith, trust, and yes, love, shining from her face was his undoing. He felt powerless in the face of her sentiment, and, heart pounding, he inched closer. He gave her plenty of time to back off, or turn her head, or say something, but she never did. She kept her gaze fixed on his until his lips touched hers in the gentlest of kisses, and then her eyelids fluttered closed.
Wil couldn't remember the last time he had kissed anyone. He'd been celibate for over a decade, and even before that, he'd usually been the one being kissed. Mavis had no idea what a momentous occasion this was! He kissed her again, a light, butterfly kiss, and then drew her closer and just held her for a few minutes.
"Tha' were lovely," she whispered.
"Yes, it was," he agreed, his heartbeat starting to slow. He buried his face in her hair and sighed happily. He shifted position and felt something under his rib cage. "Wait a moment," he said, squirming around until he could reach it.
"'Ere, let me 'elp," Mavis said, reaching under him. It tickled, and he squeaked in surprise. "'Ere's the culprit!" she announced proudly, with a little giggle, as she handed him his teddy bear.
"Oh!" Wil tittered. "Poor thing, I'd forgotten him!" He smiled at Mavis. "Do you know, I've slept with poor little Wilfred for twenty years! But on this occasion I think he can probably make it through the night without me." He set Wilfred carefully on the chair next to the bed, and turned back to Mavis.
He tentatively held out his arms, and breathed a sigh of relief when she came back into them with no hesitation. It felt so extremely right, snuggling down with Mavis under the blankets, that he pressed another kiss to the top of her head and pulled her closer so there was no space between them at all.
"Good night, Wil," she said quietly into the darkness.
"Sleep well, dear," he responded, and then all was still.