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She watched him don his armour as the light from her bathroom spilled across the bed; rumpled sheets that bore the signs of his body next to hers, where his smell lingered when she rolled over sleepily to bury her nose in his pillow and look at him through the open doorway.
There was a time, not too long ago, when Phryne would have balked at the idea of having intimate knowledge of a man’s morning ablutions, his daily rituals, let alone have them capture her interest. It was one more reason of many that set Jack apart from anyone else, she supposed. Everyone had a face they presented to the world of course, Phryne herself was no exception to this, but Jack was a particularly private person. That she got to see him unbuttoned and exposed was an expression of Jack’s trust in her, the comfort he felt in her presence, and Phryne treated it as the privilege she knew it to be.
So she watched him as he carried on unawares, knowing that he would be just as unselfconscious and at ease if she wandered over to him now and wound her arms around him, pressing her naked chest to his still bare back. It was tempting; Phryne felt the phantom press of his skin against hers in the lingering warmth of their shared bed and, as always, ached for it. But she was loathe to break the hazy quiet of the pre-dawn, where she was still almost lingering between sleep and wakefulness.
Instead she traced him with her eyes, the play of muscles in those broad shoulders as he shifted this way and that to shave. Phryne could hear the faint rasp of the razor as it passed over Jack’s skin, the sharp line of his jaw, removing the slight shadow that had grown overnight, that had rubbed deliciously over her body only hours ago. She could just about make out the reflection of Jack’s face in the mirror, frowning in concentration. The familiarity of that frown washed over her and Phryne smiled, affection blooming in her chest.
Slowly but surely, beneath her gaze, Jack became Inspector Robinson. On went the white undershirt, the first layer to hide his body disappointingly from her view, and his trousers, braces hanging slack from his hips. He ran a comb through his damp hair before using the pomade to work it into its usual neat, slicked style. Gone were the unruly curls he inevitably woke up with that Phryne loved to run her fingers through. Well, not gone, just temporarily tamed until she could get her hands on it. He slipped this shirt and braces over his shoulders and was doing up the buttons when he turned back into the bedroom and caught her looking.
His smile was soft and openly adoring: still her Jack that no one else got to see.
“I didn’t think you were awake.” His bedroom voice, low and quiet, still rough with sleep, always tugged at her low in her belly, sparking the banked embers of her ever-present desire for him.
“Only just,” She murmured, still following his movements as he took his waistcoat, jacket and tie off the coat hanger he’d hung on the bathroom door.
Phryne stretched luxuriantly and saw Jack pause when the duvet slid away to bare her to his gaze. He stood over her on his side of the bed, fingers frozen on his waistcoat, tie hanging undone around his neck and looking at her with hunger and exasperation in equal measure.
“Problem, Jack?” Her voice rose in false innocence.
His lips twitched. “You. You’re a bloody menace.”
Phryne grinned wickedly and rolled over to get onto her knees, shuffling closer until they were chest to chest, enjoying the contrasting sensation of her nude body pressing against his (almost) fully clothed one.
“Phryne...” Said on a shaky exhale that caressed her face.
“Mmm?” She slid her hands between them, reaching for the ends of his tie.
“I really can’t be late again.” Despite Jack’s words, his hands - his strong, capable hands - found her hips and squeezed lightly.
She began to deftly tie the silk in her hands. “That’s why I’m helping you get ready.”
“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”
Damn, she’d started this conversation with the full intent to simply tease and maybe drive him a little to distraction, but that wry smile, the gentle stroking motion he’d started with his thumbs, and his proximity had Phryne’s control swiftly unravelling. The urge to undo all his work in crafting his image of a respectable policeman came with a fierce stab of desire. Jack must have seen it in her expression - Phryne wore her own armour in her charm and glamour, but with Jack she was naked in every sense, allowing him to see everything - and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as though fighting a losing battle with himself.
He was well practiced in resisting those charms however (though not perhaps whilst she was naked in his arms) and his hands left her skin, joining hers briefly where she toyed with his tie, then stepping back just enough to put space between their bodies.
“Maybe I should take it from here.”
Phryne very nearly whined but allowed herself to pout instead, sitting back on her heels.
Jack looked down at her and breathed a small laugh, finishing the knot in his tie and buttoning his waistcoat as though if he didn’t finish getting dressed as quickly as possible he’d lose his resolve.
“Believe me, it’s taking every ounce of willpower I have -“
“- But duty calls.” Phryne smiled, soft and sincere this time.
She understood, of course she did; it was what had brought them together, after all. They had been partners on the job first, before they gradually became partners in every other sense of the word. She reached for her silk robe and absently wrapped it around herself as she considered her inspector - standing fully dressed now but for his hat and overcoat - and all that he embodied: the capable, intelligent, honourable man known to the world, and the passions that ran deep within that he had allowed Phryne to uncover. Her chest felt tight, like it couldn’t quite contain everything she was suddenly feeling.
Somehow she managed to keep her voice light and matter-of-fact when she said: “I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if it were any other way.”
Those words, rarely spoken aloud, had him sucking in a deep breath as though she’d knocked the air from his lungs, and a fervent expression crossed his face for a beat before he fairly launched himself across the short distance to her. Phryne rose up to her knees once more to meet him and Jack’s mouth crashed - hot, hard, hungry - onto hers. He gathered her into his arms, pulling her flush against him, taking her breath away this time with his passion and intensity.
Of course , confronted with her certainty of her feelings for him, he would lose control.
Phryne smiled into the kiss: the dance they had perfected with lips, tongues and teeth, the familiar taste of Jack... Even before she’d had the pleasure of these things, their every interaction had been a fine balancing act, always just a step away from falling together. It never took much to fan that ever burning flame between them into an inferno, and oh god, they could so easily surrender and let it consume them right now.
Regretfully, she broke the kiss and felt as much as heard the helpless growl that rumbled in the back of his throat when he instinctively tried to follow her mouth.
“Wasn’t there somewhere you had to be, again?” She teased, breathlessly, fighting the steady pulse of arousal in her veins as she pulled back to see the naked desire in his dazed expression.
He let out that same laugh that was part sigh, “You’re killing me.”
“I hope not, darling,” Phryne smoothed over his lapels, straightened his tie, and fixed his hair where she’d accidentally mussed it in the heat of the moment. “I’d planned to hold on to you for a good long while, yet.”
His smile was quietly joyful, eyes flickering over her face, taking a moment to simply breathe her in before pulling away.
“I’ll do my best to keep up, then.”
Phryne let herself fall back into bed and fixed him with a coquettish look .
“I’ve no complaints.”
She caught the answering mischievous twinkle in his eyes even as he visibly regained his composure. That would always be there if she looked for it; hidden just beneath the stern and serious inspector lay Jack’s playfulness and good humour.
She snuggled back under the covers, “Go on then, Inspector, to work with you. It’s obscenely early.”
He snorted, “Later, then,” and left her to her lie in.
Later she would put on her own particular brand of armour and stride out into the world as the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher. Perhaps they would banter and flirt inappropriately at a crime scene, exchange theories in his office whilst she perched close on his desk, looking for all the world as they always have done. But every now and then there would be small, affectionate touches, subtle brushes in silent support or reassurance. There would be heated glances and loaded looks promising later. Hold that thought for later.
Later, together or separately, they would return home and remove each other’s armour once more and let themselves be seen and held and accepted. They would simply be Phryne and Jack and everything they’d become.