Chapter Text
She hadn’t really wanted to go in the first place.
Honestly, there was little Phryne despised more than the Outback – the emptiness, the heat, the complete lack of anything actually happening. It was beautiful, granted, and sometimes that same emptiness attracted her – the sheer vastness of it. Sometimes she wanted to pitch a tent and stay there staring at stars for a week just to map them all out in her head the way Melbourne’s glowing lights prevented.
Being there because she had to be, though, was a different matter entirely. It might have been better if she’d been chasing down some fascinating intrigue, but the case itself had been pretty clear cut from start to finish. The pursuit of it had meant something to her client, however, and that was what had led her to pack a bag, send Jack a text about not missing her too much, and jump in her car.
It didn’t matter if it was dull for her, it still mattered to someone, so she’d gone.
She’d stopped halfway there to find a reply from Jack sitting waiting for her.
I’d say stay out of trouble, but I assume trouble is exactly why you’re going…
She’d grinned, rolled her eyes, and typed a quick reply back before continuing.
Don’t know what you’re talking about, Inspector 😇😉
Despite herself, she found she’d missed him, though. That was part of the problem – even a dull case was more interesting if Jack was working it with her. It was annoying, and alarming, and probably part of the reason she’d gone, if she were being honest – just to prove to herself that she could still operate solo. And she had – proved it – she’d found her client’s real family, she’d reunited a child with a mother that had always wondered what happened to her, and it had been deeply satisfying even if it had all been wrapped up far too quickly and easily for her liking.
She just also sort of wished Jack had been there with her.
They’d spoken since she’d left, of course – Phryne had been trying not to dwell on how often they did speak. Or the fact that their evening calls had become tradition without either of them ever having said a word about it.
That had started so long ago she could barely remember why or how it had even come about - but slowly it had just become a routine.
*
“You’re late.”
“I was arresting someone.”
“Ooh," Phryne hummed. “Anyone bad?”
She didn’t even need to see him to see the eye roll.
“Public urination.”
“Charming,” she replied, pressing buttons to start her dinner heating.
“Phryne, I swear to god if that’s the microwave...” Jack sighed from the other end of the phone, and she grinned.
“Dot’s not back from Sydney yet, what else am I meant to do?”
“Learn to cook?” he quipped.
“I resent the implications that come with that, Jack,” she shot back, hopping up onto the kitchen counter and licking the sauce off her fork, smirking around the utensil as she did so. She did so love winding him up.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said, serious.
“So, you don’t think I should learn to cook?”
“I think you should learn how not to get scurvy just because your PA is away.”
“But I have you for that, Jack,” she replied, innocent, smirking at the snort on the other end of the phone.
“The only cooking I do that you’re interested in is biscuits.”
She gasped in exaggerated excitement. “Have you been baking? You better have saved me some.”
He chuckled at that. “Well, you might have to fight Collins for them.”
“Oh, well that’s no trouble - Dot’s away, he’s a weak target. At least give me a challenge, Jack.”
The microwave beeped and she hopped off the counter again, depositing the steaming contents into a bowl, shoulder keeping the phone to her ear.
“Sounds like dinner’s ready.”
“Oh, you’re not getting out of it that easily, Inspector, I know you just got assigned those Docklands stranglings and I’m not hanging up until you tell me everything. So spill,” she added, briefly debating the merits of actually sitting to table with her dinner, and deciding that the kitchen counter would do just as well, sliding back up again.
“I’d ask how you know,” Jack responded with a long-suffering sigh that did nothing to hide his amusement. "But I’m not sure I want to be an accessory.”
She grinned, spearing a piece of pasta with her fork and popping it into her mouth.
“Spill,” she repeated around it.
Jack sighed. “Phryne, you know I can’t discuss a classified case with you. Not over the phone.”
Phryne shrugged. “Maybe you should come round then.”
“I have paperwork.”
“So tell me over the phone.”
“I prefer myself un-fired, thank you.”
“Oh, fine,” she huffed. “I’ll find out myself.”
“I’ve no doubt,” he chuckled.
“Speak to you later?”
“Only if I don’t drown in my paperwork first.”
“I’m sure I could revive you,” she smirked, and she could practically hear the smile in his own voice when he answered.
“I’ll count on it.”
*
No, a different state had not been nearly far enough to stop them, as entrenched as the routine had become, but Jack’s cases had been piling up and her coverage had been less than ideal – something Jack hadn’t failed to stop teasing her about when his messages did get through – so their correspondence had been far from as frequent as she found herself used to.
This, perhaps more than anything, had her chomping at the bit to get home again, and it was with a large sense of relief that she returned to her motel room to pack her things, ready to leave in the morning.
She slept well that night, despite the heat, dreams on Melbourne, rain, the ever-thudding heartbeat of the busy city, full of life, mystery, excitement. She might even have dreamt of Jack, the warm familiarity of his voice and his smile, but when she woke – in a better mood than she’d been since she’d left – all memory of her night time musings fell away at the sight of her phone.
It was sitting beside her pillow, screen bursting with notifications, and the sight of them all sent a sharp spike of concern through her which only began to flare when she looked closer.
She had twenty-two missed calls.
Twelve from Dot.
Nine from Mac.
One from Jack.
There were messages, though, texts and voicemails and – now she looked – news notifications as well.
Phryne swallowed, rubbing at her tired eyes and sitting up properly, opening the urgent news article first - sure it would give some kind of blanket context to whatever it was that had her friends frantically contacting her.
When she saw the headline though, she froze.
CASES OF THAI FLU QUADRUPLE OVERNIGHT IN MELBOURNE AS FIRST DEATHS REPORTED. PREMIER ANNOUNCES PLANNED LOCKDOWN OF CITY IN BID TO CONTAIN VIRUS.
Phryne’s heart sped up.
Quickly, she navigated to her voicemail, selecting the one from Jack, and taking a breath before pressing play.
“Telstra, Phryne, they’re a service provider. I recommend trying them. Very helpful when you have a penchant for taking off to the middle of nowhere…”
Phryne rolled her eyes, unable to help the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, the tension in her easing.
Well, Jack seemed fine.
She selected the first of the several messages from Dot.
“Hi, sorry, I know it’s late – although Jack mentioned you don’t have service so that’s probably why you’re not answering – but Mac says that this flu is kicking off and we might all have to isolate so I’m making you shepherd’s pie for when you get back. I’ll put it in the freezer for you, and I’m going to fetch your dry-cleaning in case you don’t have time when you're home.”
Phryne’s smile widened. The girl was an absolute treasure. She played the next one.
“Okay, there’s shepherd’s pie, a bolognese but you’re cooking your own pasta because I flat out refuse to freeze it, it’s disgusting, and I did some Anzac biscuits – I know mine aren’t as good as Jack’s but you’ll have to manage. Do not eat it all at once, Mac’s told me that we might be looking at shutdowns, and you’re miserable when you’re hungry. I’ll call back when I know more, speak to you soon, hopefully.”
She shook her head fondly and pressed play on the last one.
“God, I really hope you got Mac’s message last night and started back, they’re talking about locking down the city, Phryne, you need to get back here as soon as you can. Please text me when you get this? I’m gonna message you too in case that works better. Just please check in as soon as you can? Okay, I’m going to stop sounding like my mother now just… just be safe. Okay, bye”.
Phryne felt her panic reignite in her chest, selecting the first of two messages from Mac.
“Darling, I don’t know if you’re seeing the news, but speaking as someone in the know - you need to get back here. ASAP. This is only going to get worse and they’ll no doubt have to start quarantines before too long. Call me when you get this so I know you’re on the way.”
She checked the time stamp, cursing as she realised the message had been from the previous afternoon.
Jack might have a point about her choice in service provider, loath as she was to admit it.
She threw back the covers, jumping from the bed and crossing to grab her clothes, pressing play on the second message and then tossing her phone back as she began to change.
“First of all, if you don’t get Telstra when this is over, I’m going to steal Jack’s gun and personally escort you to the store at gunpoint. Secondly, leave, as soon as you get this. They’re locking down from midnight tomorrow, Phryne, and God knows how long it’ll be before they let you back in after that. I don’t… Listen, I don’t know how much Jack’s told you despite my threats so just don’t panic, okay? I’ve got him, Phryne, I’m on it, but you need… just get back, alright? Love you.”
The words sent a sharp splinter of fear through her, and Phryne stopped halfway through buttoning her blouse, staring at the now silent phone.
What did Mac mean ‘how much Jack had told her’? What did that even...
She crossed back to the bed, picking it up and scrolling back to his message.
She pressed play again.
“Telstra, Phryne, they’re a service provider. I recommend trying them. Very helpful when you have a penchant for taking off to the middle of nowhere.”
There was a significant pause, one that had made her think the message had been done, in her half-awake state, not bothering to look properly.
The recording said '1:29' though, and she realised with a curling sensation of worry in her stomach that there was significantly more of the message to go, just as Jack’s voice returned to break the silence.
“Everyone’s worried about you getting back in time if they lock down the city, but if you get this I think you should consider staying away. I… it’s madness here, Phryne. Mac’s just seeing it from a Doctor’s perspective, and she feels she can protect us all better if we’re where she can treat us but… everyone’s acting like animals. I’ve got five people in lock up for stealing toilet paper. Toilet paper. God knows what it’ll be next.”
Another pause, so long that Phryne checked the message wasn’t over, but there were still forty-three seconds blinking at her, waiting to be heard.
“I don’t… look, I wouldn’t even mention it if Mac hadn’t threatened me with bodily harm, but… I got called out to help on an arrest this morning - hand sanitiser, if you can even believe it - and it was… Well, he has it, just confirmed half an hour ago, so I have to self-isolate now. It doesn’t mean I have it, I barely touched him. It’s just a precaution. I expect I’ll be fine. Damn, look, the Super’s calling so I should… but please think about staying where you are. God, I hope you get this in time, just… stay safe, alright? I’ll text you.”
Phryne stared down at her phone, frozen, processing.
Melbourne was locking down in – she finally stirred herself to actually check the time on her phone, noting with horror that it was just past ten.
The curling panic flared, roaring through her as full realisation hit. Jack… Jack was in isolation, potentially infected with a virus that was felling people like trees on a logging site, the world was descending into such insanity that people were robbing pharmacies, and Melbourne was locking down in just under fourteen hours.
In fourteen hours she’d be stuck, unable to get back home – home to where her house was, her people were, to where Jack was – isolated or not. In fourteen hours she’d be cut off from it all altogether.
And she was fifteen hours away.