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Waiting for the plane door to open was torture, Jack thought. Dave was rocking back and forward on his heels, whistling quietly.
“This going to work?” Jack asked his colleague.
“Well I do hope so, or you’re going to look like a prat, aren’t you?”
“Thanks for that” replied Jack, trying not to sweat. He was fairly sure he was failing.
Jack steadied himself. He had been trying to plan what he was going to say. He wished he had been given more time to prepare. As the gate was connected, and the door to the plane swung carefully open, Jack was sure he could feel time slow down. A second felt like an hour as he waited. The Flight Attendant seemed very pleased to see the ground staff, and smiled politely at Dave when he stepped forward.
Jack and Dave had agreed between them that the latter man would handle this part. Dave turned and beckoned towards Jack, who had remained standing a discreet distance away.
“Thank you, Sir, the flight attendant will take you on board, Sir. I will wait here.” Dave nodded slightly, trying not to crack a grin at the formality with which he was now addressing Jack.
“Thank you Sergeant,” replied Jack, sweeping his hat from his head as the Flight Attendant gestured him to follow her as she turned left on the plane.
Jack had never been in First Class before. He almost snorted at the absurdity of it. He could feel the plushness of the carpet, even through his shoes. The lighting was soft, and the chairs enormous. Another attendant was speaking with Phryne, as the few other occupants of the cabin filtered past Jack.
“What do you mean, I have to wait here?” he could hear the anger in Phryne’s voice. She had stood up from her seat now, her anger flaring. This was a terrible idea.
“I am sorry, Miss Fisher. We’ve been asked to hold you on the plane whilst the Victoria Police speak with you.” The flight attendant was apologetic, in the way that suggested that after an overnight flight, and this early in the morning, dealing with an irate first class passenger was the last thing she wanted to be doing.
Jack coughed, alerting the attendant to his presence as he stood in the aisle on the far side of the chair which adjoined Phryne’s. They both turned their attention to look at him. Phryne’s jaw dropped.
“Good morning, Miss Fisher. I am Detective Inspector Robinson,” said Jack, flashing his credentials at her, “I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience Miss, but the flight crew have consented to us speaking with you here, before you disembark.” Jack flashed a smile towards the young crew member, who stood up, and moved towards the curtain denoting the edge of the first class area.
“It takes about ten minutes for everyone else to disembark. And then I’m afraid we will have to ask you to leave,” she said, managing to hit kindly, disapproving and forceful in one short sentence. She exited the cabin and pulled the curtain shut behind her.
“Jack?”
“Phryne,” Jack swallowed nervously, “I missed you.”
“Well I’m told I’m very missable.” Phryne felt the comeback was just sassy enough. She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, her eyes scanning quickly down and back up Jack’s body. Where had he been hiding this uniform?
“Phryne…” Jack tried again.
“Jack…” Phryne countered. It occurred to her that he really was very handsome. And it was so lovely to see a friendly face.
Taking a step closer to her, Jack reached out his hand, wrapped it tentatively around her waist.
“Jack? What…?”
“Call it a romantic overture…?” What was he saying? This was not part of his plan; he had to tell her about the news reports!
“Oh…” Phryne was confused, somewhat jet-lagged and utterly distracted by the unexpected presence of Jack. Who was wrapping his hand around her waist. That was new! Well, they were sort of, whatever now, she supposed.
“Is that alright?” Jack spoke quietly, his voice a rich murmur that warmed Phryne unexpectedly.
“Well I hope this isn’t all of it.” She reminded herself that she always needed to retain the upper hand in any conversation. It was safest that way.
“Would you like me to improve on it?” Did she want him? Really? Or had it been somewhat drunken bluster? He wouldn’t be able to blame her if it was, god knew he’d made enough of an idiot of himself that time at her party. He decided to cast those memories out of his mind. She was here, now, and she wasn’t stepping away from his embrace.
Swallowing as she took the merest moment to think, Phryne nodded slowly. “More than anything,” she replied, deciding she really did want to see what came next.
Showing a decisiveness he hadn’t experienced in years, Jack stepped forward once more, clasping her waist more tightly. His other hand slid into her hair, anchoring her to him.
Before Phryne could think to breathe, Jack was kissing her. Instinctively, her hands found his hips, not wanting to clutch too tightly for fear of losing all control. It was everything she had thought it would be: tender, gentle, careful, a hint of danger and passion underneath, and really, very accomplished. Jack Robinson, it turned out, did not do things by half.
She was, as he recalled, and had held onto for a very long time, warm. Her lips were warm, her skin, which he could feel under her top, was radiating heat, and she had her hands on his hips. Oh god, the difference now that he didn’t have to pretend he was just being friendly; now they weren’t ‘being undercover’; now he wasn’t appallingly, horrifyingly drunk. He tried not to think about either of those, focusing instead on the feeling of Phryne, kissing him properly at last. Jack tried to hold onto his self-control. She was everything he had thought she would be; keen, exploring, curious. Very, very keen, as it turned out.
At the sound of a flight attendant attempting to redirect an errant passenger, Jack reluctantly broke the kiss. They were both silent for a moment.
Phryne regained the power of speech, “Jack? Not that this isn’t… unexpectedly delightful, but why are you here? Is it Jane, has something happened?” Her tone was suddenly panicked.
Jack had been expecting the question. “She’s fine. I saw her last night, she’s well. That’s not why I’m here.”
“So why are you here? And what are you wearing?” Phryne was practically agog and Jack noted that she was appraising him with widening eyes.
“I came because I couldn’t not be here, Phryne. I said, if we were on the same side of the planet…”
“That you’d kiss me…”
“Yes. And now we are. And I didn’t want to wait any longer than I had to…” Jack paused. Now for the difficult part. “I’m here because you have to know what’s going on, Phryne. And, I was advised that achieving, this,” he waved a hand around, vaguely indicating himself and the plane, “would be easier if I was in uniform. And this is the closest I have these days.” Jack tugged at the bottom hem of his Dress Uniform jacket. He always felt slightly uncomfortable wearing it; it was stiff from being worn infrequently and he had had to look up the uniform guidelines late last night to ensure he had got all the correct components.