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Jack heaved out a sigh, closing his eyes and rubbing them in frustration. For what must have been the twentieth time in the past hour, he’d needed to force his thoughts back into focus after the paperwork in front of him had blurred to gibberish once again. You might as well still be in that bloody French Café, Robbo, for all the work you’re getting done here. Namely, none.
Every time he willed himself into the present, the memory of Phryne Fisher’s lips seemed to take his thoughts hostage once again. Which is absolutely ridiculous, given it was nothing more than a protective measure. Or so he attempted to convince himself once again.They’d been so soft. He needed to get back to work.God help him, her tongue.
He should not be thinking about this anymore. Correction: he should not be thinking about this at all.
If that was how wet and hot her mouth was, then …
No.
Perhaps this paperwork could wait until the morning. Yes, that was probably for the best. He was overtired. And overstimulated, murmured his traitorous brain.
And clearly hallucinating as well, because there was Phryne Fisher, standing in the doorway of his office. Had he fallen asleep? Or maybe he was coming down with something? Influenza had been making the circuit of City South. Perfectly logical, he commended himself internally as he continued to stare down the vision at the door.“Jack?” She didn’t usually talk in his -
“Sir, are you alright?” And Hugh was never in his - Ah. Apparently he wasn’t hallucinating, and he was absolutely still awake. Brilliant. Jack cleared his throat and sat a little straighter, making a point of tidying the papers splayed across his desk.“I’m perfectly fine, Collins. Was there something you needed?”“Uh, no Sir.” Hugh made to back out of the office, before seeming to rethink the action. “Sorry, actually yes, Sir. I wanted to see if there was anything you needed from me before I left to take Dottie to the pictures?” Jack eyed the clock on the wall. He’d been struggling with this paperwork for longer than he realized.“I think we’re all set here for tonight, Constable. You’re welcome to leave.”“Thank you, Sir.” With that, Hugh departed, leaving a slightly lost-looking Phryne Fisher in his wake.“I’m sorry to bother you, Jack, you must be looking to leave soon as well.”
“No, not at all.” He gave her a kind smile. “I’ve got some paperwork to finish yet.” Phryne said nothing, but walked towards her preferred spot on the edge of his desk as if in a trance. “Is everything alright?” She sat for several moments, tracing her fingers absently along a gouge in the wood before she finally spoke.***“For a moment, after Veronique stabbed René, I felt jealous.”
“Of Dubois?” Jack asked, no small amount of alarm in his tone.“Of Veronique.” Her smile was sad, tinged with bitterness, as she finally met his eyes. “For just a split second, I felt like something else had been stolen from me because I hadn’t been the one to finally end his life. What does that say about me, Jack?” She quickly looked back down, afraid of seeing judgment in this man’s eyes.She needn’t have worried. When he reached out to encompass her small hand in his much larger one, she raised her eyes to his in surprise. All she saw in those stormy depths was compassion and understanding. How very Jack Robinson . “I think it says that you’re human, Miss Fisher, much like the rest of us. Despite the fact that you often appear larger than life.”
“Jack” she gently chided him for his cheek, but she appreciated the fact he was trying to make her smile. Without thinking, she clasped his hand in both of hers, settling their joined hands in her lap. He didn’t make any objection, but she caught the slide of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.
“What he’d done to Madame Sarcelle, the way he hurt her, he used to do the same to you.” It wasn’t a question. When she nodded, she felt Jack squeeze her hands gently. “To be honest, Miss Fisher, I’d be more surprised if you didn’t feel something of the sort. I’ve seen women who took far more drastic action than simply wishing they could have had a hand in their abuser’s demise. A majority of the time, I wish they hadn’t done so, for their own sakes, but I understand why they did.”Phryne held his hand a little tighter.
Jack Robinson was truly a defender of all that was good and just.If she'd pulled the trigger today, Jack would have arrested her, because it was his duty to uphold the law. What was more, it astonished her to realize she would have made sure he did the lawful thing, had she seen him hesitating in the slightest. She would never force this man to stray from his moral compass for her.
It struck her in that moment how much she would miss these talks with Jack, had things gone differently today and she was no longer able to speak to him.“Will Veronique hang?”“I'm going to do my best to make sure that doesn't happen, but I am a servant of the law. So many bystanders saw her stab Dubois with seemingly no provocation. I can only do so much.” He gave her a sad, apologetic smile. “Our best option will be somehow claiming she acted in self-defense, beyond that it will be up to a jury.”Phryne squeezed his hand gently. “I'll make sure she has the best lawyer in Melbourne, regardless of the outcome.”
***There were times when Jack felt an immense rush of fondness for the woman sitting in front of him. This was one of those moments.He rose from his chair so he could turn and sit beside Phryne on the desk, allowing her to maintain her hold of his hand.“I know you will. She's lucky to have you, Miss Fisher.”They sat that way for several long, quiet moments, neither willing to admit how good it felt to simply be in the others’ presence.***Phryne was absently tracing the veins on the back of Jack's hand with her thumbs. She didn't particularly want to talk anymore, but she didn't want to leave either.
Earlier today, after Jack had left Wardlow, Phryne found herself finally inundated by the flood of emotions that came with having a demon re-appear years after she’d thought she was done with him for good.
With how chaotic this investigation had been, she hadn’t had the chance to pause long enough for the ache of grief to settle into her bones. When it finally did, she couldn’t have stopped her emotional upheaval if she tried. As Phryne had allowed herself the time she needed to weep in private, she realized the only moments she hadn't felt on the verge of drowning over the past twenty-four hours had been those moments when Jack Robinson was by her side, staunchly supporting her the entire way.
She had figured that surely just half an hour more in his company today couldn't hurt. It wasn’t as if she had to worry about Jack kissing her again. She'd seen the look in his eyes at Café Repliqué. In fact, she doubted the subject would ever resurface, unless she brought it up herself.So, in spite of the fact she knew it was probably (most definitely) a bad idea, she found herself in the Hispano-Suiza, driving towards City South Police Station, hoping that Jack hadn't left for the night.
As Phryne sat there, Jack’s shoulder brushing against hers, her mind wandered. Not for the first time today, she was caught up in a very vivid reminiscence of earlier that day, when he'd crushed his lips to hers, shattering any last doubts Phryne might have had regarding whether those lips could possibly feel as sensual as they looked.
The truth of the matter, as it turned out, was that Jack Robinson's kisses could be absolutely deadly to Phryne Fisher's self-imposed emotional barriers.
Hence why she could never, ever kiss him again.
With just one kiss, for a moment her mind had gone absolutely blank in the most amazing and terrifying way. In those few seconds, she couldn't have said what year it was, let alone her own name. The moment their lips parted and she got a glimpse of the intensity in his eyes, the first thought to cross her mind was, you're in dangerous waters, Phryne .Followed by the unwelcome sense of feeling hurt when she witnessed how quickly the rush of shock and guilt overtook his gaze.
The fact that she felt anything at all regarding this man's feelings towards kissing her didn't sit well with Phryne.She understood why Jack Robinson, of all people, might feel regretful after kissing a woman who wasn't his estranged wife, even if the kiss meant absolutely nothing to him past a means to an end.
Of course she understood. So why had her reaction to such an understandable turn of events been so visceral? “…Because, my chat noire, he knows you are unworthy. Of course he would be reviled…” Rene's voice echoed through her thoughts, unbidden. No. The man was dead. She would not be the reason any aspect of René Dubois lived on.
Phryne recognized that she was leaving out a vital detail as she traveled further down the rabbit hole of why he would be so averse to kissing her. That detail being that Jack Robinson was the most honorable man she knew.She needed to reframe her thoughts.It still wasn’t easy, given how many walls Phryne had built up throughout her life, and re-working one’s mindset was exhausting work. But. She was finding the benefits seemed to far outweigh the efforts required thus far.Jack wouldn't be sitting next to her right now, allowing her to hold his hand hostage, if he felt she was unworthy of his notice. Phryne was astonished at just how confident she was in that fact.
What was more, she’d found that her belief in her own self-worth seemed to be increasing a little bit every day. She didn’t need Jack Robinson’s validation, and for once, it wasn’t because she was stubbornly dead-set against the influence of any man in her life. Instead, it was because she was beginning to value herself just as much.Jack’s reaction to their kiss had nothing to do with Phryne whatsoever, and everything to do with his inner demons. Throughout their months of debriefing over cocktails, she had come to realize that Jack Robinson had just as many shadows in his past as she had in hers. Different shadows, yes, but shadows nonetheless, and they affected him just as deeply.***Upon realizing that Phryne was lost in thought, Jack couldn’t help but take the opportunity to drink her in. It was captivating how expressive her eyes were, even when she was perfectly still. And such a gorgeous shade of blue. His brain unhelpfully chimed in. He quashed the thought as quickly as it arrived.He was so immersed in his study of her that he didn’t initially realize she had worked her way back into the present. When her eyes suddenly flashed up to his, he could only hope his thoughts hadn’t been writ large across his face.***As Phryne had surfaced from her thoughts, she glanced at Jack, only to find his eyes already on her. For the briefest of moments, she was sure she'd seen an emotion lurking in the depths of Jack's gaze that she was too much of a coward to acknowledge, let alone try to interpret.
She knew that for his sake, as well as her own, she couldn't again do what she had done tonight - going to Jack when she was in need of comfort. It wasn't fair to either of them to push the limits on something that neither had any intention of pursuing.She supposed someday it might be beneficial to discuss what had happened in Anatole's café, but it couldn't be today. Not when the memories were so fresh, when she swore the taste of him still lingered on her tongue, and when the wounds of this case were still so raw.
Someday, yes, when they had the buffer of time to blur the edges of memory, but not today.