Work Text:
Dearest Jack,
Europe is just marvellous; it hasn’t changed a bit since I last visited – at most it only grew more and more beautiful over the years. The journey was long but thoroughly pleasant, yet would have been more exciting had poor Dot not been befallen by a nasty bout of sea sickness on the second day. Her recovery was swift, however, due to Mac’s constant assistance, but I am quite afraid that the poor thing – who is already quite suspicious of steamships – won’t dare to leave her cabin once we set forth on our journey back to Australia.
Unfortunately, this message will not bear any reports of noteworthy incidents on deck as to my utmost disappointment no conflicts have been aroused amongst the passengers, and no objects have been purloined. But perhaps Paris – we have only arrived the night before and not yet taken many strolls through the city – will prove to be equally exciting as it used to be; of course I shall notify you immediately of any happenings throughout my journey.
I still very much regret that you are deemed indispensable at the police station and therefore have been unable to join us on this most thrilling adventure, but certainly you shall be entertained by several enchanting tales upon our return.
In eager anticipation of our reunion,
Phryne
*
Phryne could not help but smile as she sealed the envelope, rising from her desk shortly after, suddenly overcome by a spell of fatigue. It had long struck midnight and Mac had withdrawn to her own room several hours ago, recommending her to follow suit, yet the letter she had addressed to Jack long before beginning to write had remained unfinished far too long for Phryne’s preference.
She sighed as she turned her head towards the opened window, for a moment believing to find her own reflection within the street lights’ warm glow. How young she had been then…
Indeed, Paris had not changed. Phryne had not been afraid to return to the city despite the memories that had inevitably come to haunt her, had not been afraid to once more walk through the streets that had for such a brief period of her life come to be her home, that were now nothing more but a broken road of her past. She had not been afraid and yet it was strange, strange to be a stranger now, strange to remember…
Jack knew. He knew the true meaning of this journey, knew that perhaps only through a visit she would find closure, he knew of the city’s bitter flavour left behind within her, had saved Phryne from her past once before and would not hesitate to do the same over and over. He had been concerned for her, more than he would allow himself to admit, had hidden his worry so deeply beneath his smile… But it was easy to read him, so easy for Phryne to know his true frame of mind with only a look into his eyes… It was so easy.
He had saved her from her past once before. Many kisses had followed after the first, the kiss that had scarcely been a kiss, and many would still lie within their future, an imagination that once more caused the faintest of smiles to pass Phryne’s lips as finally she drew the curtains and turned away from the window, ready to slip into her bed at last.
It would be foolish to deny that she missed him, foolish to deny that there was no desire within her to know him by her side in this moment, to find him here within her room, his gaze resting suspiciously upon her as though he were uncertain whether or not she was all right. It would be foolish to deny that a sparse, innocuous exchange letters was not enough, but what other choice did she have than to write to him when he was so far from her? What other choice did she have than to write to him, to perhaps telephone him, and to anticipate his response in the hope that it would arrive before her departure?
He had saved her from her past once before…
Soon she would return to her home, soon she would return to his arms, eager to once more feel his lips upon hers, eager to once more join him at his work, their work, whether or not he asked for her assistance. If only she…
No. Phryne laughed, shaking her head at her own folly. Even without him she was not alone after all, and perhaps it was good to know him in Australia, good to know that he would await her return with equal impatience… Certainly Paris would not disappoint her, certainly soon she would be approached with another request, another case… Perhaps it was good indeed to know that for the moment only through letters Jack would learn of her adventures, as otherwise his concern would merely grow.
But there was no need for concern. Paris had not changed, yet Phryne had, she had changed, had grown… And through this journey she would merely grow further, perhaps let go at last, truly.