Chapter Text
The pair found themselves seated once more, this time with a tray of tea things between them. Jack had offered whiskey, but once he’d conceded that he couldn’t join her (he’d been following Mac’s instructions to the T, thank you very much) Phryne decided that if he couldn’t indulge, she wouldn’t, either.
They prepared the tea and biscuits, studiously avoiding the heavy topic that was looming over them, as if they’d had a silent agreement to wait until their stomachs were less empty. Once they’d finished their respective first cups of tea and most of the sweets, an awkward silence resettled around them.
“I am sorry, Jack, for all the awful things I said that night,” she finally began, looking down at her own hands. Phryne Fisher knew she’d been hasty and cruel when he’d only been expressing concern at her capture. “Your intentions were good and your concerns well-founded… A realization that I’d only barely come to understand during my time away, but the dangers were made crystal clear in hearing Hugh’s telling of the raid…”
Jack looked at her, a pained expression filling his eyes. “They left you to die , Phryne… And it was nothing but dumb luck that put me on your trail.” His jaw ticked and he tightened his fists where they rested in his lap. “When I saw you… The blood, the tattered clothes… I couldn’t help but think the worst…”
“I know, Jack,” she responded softly, her head tilting to the side.
“No, you don’t… You don’t know about the reports of the victims they’ve left in their wake… We’ve kept the stories from the media, trying to avoid mass panic.” Blinking away unwelcome tears, he raised his eyes to meet hers. “The unspeakable things they’ve done to women, Phryne…” He swallowed thickly, his eyes falling away once again. “When I saw you bound and gagged…” His words fell away as he sorted his thoughts. “I can’t… I can’t bear to think what they might have done to you had they the inclination or the time…”
“I know , darling,” she was suddenly beside him, kneeling on the floor beside his chair, her hand resting on his shoulder. She’d never before used any sort of term of endearment for Jack, but it had slipped from her tongue so seamlessly she had no mental warning, though she had no desire to take it back. If he was at all surprised by it, he didn’t show it. She reached up and palmed his cheek, her thumb brushing over a horribly discolored bruise in its healing process. “If I’d had any idea there would have actually been activity at the warehouse that night, I wouldn’t have gone.”
At that, his eyes swiveled in her direction and an eyebrow arched.
She sighed and rolled her own eyes in response. “Alright. I might have gone, but I would have told you.”
“No you wouldn’t have. I know you by now, Miss Fisher. You might have told Miss Williams or Mr. Butler, but you haven’t faith enough to tell me.”
His words cut her like a knife and she rocked back on her heels. “Jack,” she shook her head. “I have more faith in you than I have in any other man. Almost more than I have in anyone at all.”
“Then why do you constantly exclude me from your plans? Why am I always finding out after the fact that you gained entry to a suspect’s home or picked up a piece of evidence, which you’ve thoroughly investigated prior to turning over to the Victoria Constabulary? I have included you in my investigations not only because your insight and connections are invaluable, but because I enjoy working with you… But I can’t trust and work with someone who doesn’t have the same trust in me.”
“I never meant to give you the impression that I don’t trust you, Jack. My faith in you, not only as an officer of the law, but also as a man, has never wavered.” She fell to her bottom, sitting on the floor, and hugged her knees to her chest. “I act on instinct; it’s not always rational… It’s rarely thought through completely… But I would think some of what I do in my own investigations, you shouldn’t know about - you know, plausible deniability and all that…?” Her eyes were searching his, hoping to see understanding shining back at her. .
“ Twenty minutes, Phryne, ” he stressed. “Twenty more minutes and I would have been fishing your corpse out of the tide. If you want to investigate, fine, but I need you to let me in,” he reached down and grasped her hand, where it was balled against her leg. “If I’d known you were even interested in the case, or on the scent of something, I could have not only provided you back-up, but let you in on the true nature of the beasts. At least then you might have had a fighting chance.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Though, based on the efficiency with which they took down my Constables...” He didn’t finish his thought, but he knew she understood the implication. When he saw her swipe angrily at a tear, he tugged her hand, pulling her attention up to him.
“When I came to Wardlow after your discharge from hospital, it wasn’t to pick a fight, it was to see with my own eyes that you truly were alright. And to show you that I was worried. I was not there to lecture you about deficiencies you think I see in your abilities, but because I care, Phryne… About you ; I care about you . So very much.”
She pushed up to her knees again and reached for him, taking care not to press on his injured ribs. In an uncharacteristic move, he parted his knees and she leaned against his chest, pressing her cheek to his pec so she could hear his heart. “I know, Jack,” she whispered, her voice husky with emotion. “I care, too… But I don’t know how to do this…”
He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and threaded his other hand into her hair, pressing his face into the top of her head. He took a moment and just breathed… He filled his lungs with the sweet scent of her shampoo, her signature French perfume and whatever it was that just made her Phryne . Absently, he pressed a kiss against her silky tresses, allowing his lips to linger longer than necessary.
“You don't know how to do what , Miss Fisher?”
“Let myself be loved… and give my love in return…”
His body tensed and his eyes flew open. Surely he was dreaming; he was in a drug induced slumber… Maybe he hadn’t followed Mac’s instructions as carefully as he thought he’d done, and now he was laying on his parlor floor, overdosed into a coma… Or maybe he never even made it out of the hospital and he was dead… No matter the situation, he knew it wasn’t real and his heart broke for it.
His entire body ached for not being able to, in real life, confess all that he’d just said and now he was going to die and she’d never know that he’d only been angry because he cared… With the sinking feeling one gets when they finally learn their fate is lost, he closed his eyes and whispered into her hair, pressing kisses and stroking her neck with soft caresses that she’d never feel.
“I’ve loved you for so long, Phryne. I’m so sorry…” He didn’t bother to stop himself from crying - what was the point, he was either in a coma or dying - so he let the tears slip from his eyes and trail down his cheeks, to be absorbed by her phantom hair.
She huffed against his chest, her own tears falling for a different reason. “Why,” she gulped, certain that he was actually sorry for loving a woman who was incapable of loving in return. “Why are you sorry, Jack?”
“I should have told you,” he managed to push out as his throat tightened. “I should have paid no mind to propriety or societal expectations… I should have just told you. Then maybe it wouldn’t have come to this… And now it’s too late...”
Phryne wrinkled her brow, slightly confused. Too late? Had something else happened in the five weeks she’d been away? Had her dear inspector taken up with some other woman about whom she knew nothing? Or was their partnership beyond repair? She lifted her face away from his chest, forcing him to sit upright, though he did so with a wince of discomfort.
“It’s too late for what, Jack?”
His soulful, stormy eyes searched hers, silently willing her to understand without him having to spell it out. Even in his hallucinations, she refused to submit to his wishes, so he sighed. “It’s too late to say it, to tell the real Phryne Fisher that I love her… And so I’m here, talking to you… And she will never know…”
She couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter, albeit a brief one, that burst from her chest. “Jack, it is me! I am me!” She palmed his cheek. “Look at me,” she grabbed his hand and pressed it against her chest, allowing him to feel the heartbeat, “feel. I don’t know what you think is happening - whether you think you’re dreaming, or what, but I’m here, Jack. In your parlor. Asking for your forgiveness, and telling you that I love you, too.”
Jack blinked slowly. She felt so real; even in his non-medicated dreams, she hadn’t been so authentic, so absolute. Her skin was warm, her hair sweet and soft, her eyes so vivid… He pulled his hand from her upper-breast, the steady thump-thump of her heart still vibrating through his veins, and he traced her jaw with a single finger.
“Phryne,” he whispered reverently.
“Jack,” she held his wrist, like he was a lifeline. “I don’t like it when we fight, or when we are apart… I don’t know how to do this, but if you have any desire to explore whatever this is between us, if you’re patient with me, I will do my best to keep up and not let you down.”
He couldn’t believe his ears and he blinked again, willing his conscious mind to rid him of these tortuous images if they were not real. When he opened them again, they fell on her pale gaze as she looked up at him from below.
“If I have any desire….?” He could hardly grasp why anyone , man or woman, wouldn’t harbor a desire for this infuriating Lady Detective. “You are all I desire, Miss Fisher.”
She stretched up and pressed a kiss to his mouth before he could retract the declaration, before he could change his mind. As they parted, neither eager to stop, he rubbed his nose against hers and cupped her neck tenderly.
“I know I could never ask you to stay, Miss Fisher, but if you are so intent on leaving town again so quickly, would you at least leave some contact details?”
She chuckled. “I’m not planning to skip town anytime soon, Inspector. We have a lot of catching up to do.” Her coy smile was met with his deep chuckle and a grunt of pain when his ribs complained at the excess movement. “But first,” she stood up, “we need to get you feeling better.” She held her hand out for his. “It’s late, Jack. Your body needs sleep and I’m absolutely exhausted. After all, I didn’t get to have my normal sleep-in this morning since I was on the road at the ungodly hour of eight a.m., and I’ve been chasing after you since I got home.” When he stood slowly, she looked up at him with clear vision. “So, if you’re not opposed to the idea, I plan to spend the night.”
His jaw dropped but before he could protest, she was already overriding his objections.
“Just to sleep, Jack. You are in no condition to keep up with my plans for you… But,” she felt her cheeks blossom in a blush. “I would very much like to know what it feels like to sleep beside my noble DI Robinson… And to wake up in his arms…”
Jack’s lips tugged into a crooked smile. “I think I can live with that,” he quipped and tugged her gently against his body. Now that he was allowed to kiss her, and touch her, and eventually to make love to her, he intended to make good on a great number of previously-hidden desires.