Smoothing her windblown bob as best she could, Phryne Fisher entered the lobby of the Savoy, and paused to exhale. As thrilling as the journey had been in parts, the unexpected delays and her father's whinging had taken their toll, and she wished now for nothing more than to bask in the hotel's opulence. Having left her parents to their incoherent reunion, she could think only of inquiring for telegrams and then retreating to her room for a long, luxurious soak. Unconsciously, her hand drifted to her pocket, where a handful of such telegrams were gathered. Collected at various points along the way, they had both buoyed her spirits and sparked an even fiercer yearning for their sender.

Phryne reached the front desk and cleared her throat. She had washed her face as best she could at the airfield's lavatory, but she knew she must still look a sight.

"Hello, might you have any messages for Miss Phr – " she began, before a deep voice broke in.

"If you're going to demand that I follow you, Miss Fisher, the least you can do is be on time."

Incredulous, Phryne whipped to her right, to the sight of a man seated in an armchair. His legs were languidly crossed, and long, elegant fingers held a newspaper in front of him. He lowered it slowly, until Phryne saw the face that had lingered in her thoughts in innumerable moments, over innumerable miles. His skin was more tanned than she'd seen before, setting off his blue eyes in a striking contrast.

"I'm fashionably late, Jack," she replied with a coy smile, holding back the compulsion to fling herself into the armchair as well. "Do you always acquiesce so nicely to demands?"

"I do on occasion, when they're charmingly given." He gave a small smile in return, looking utterly desirable, and a brief glance around the lobby confirmed to Phryne that hers were not the only female eyes with such thoughts. She had the sudden feeling that it had been far too long since she had last done something scandalous in London.

"How did you – " she gestured with her hand, too tired to even form the question.

"Wartime connections, a good deal of luck, and the fact that that Uncle Ted left a bit more than his coin collection." He turned a page of his paper, briefly glancing up at her again. Though his actions might seem detached to the openly curious desk clerk who was looking on, the flash in Jack's eyes was unmistakable to her, and she was rapidly becoming more desirous to see it in closer quarters. "How were your travels?"

"The travels, lovely. The traveling companion, less so."

Jack turned another page. "Will you dine with with me tonight?"

"Of course." Phryne paused until he looked up again. "And later," she continued silkily, fixing her eyes on his, "I have another demand that I'd like to make."

Slowly, Jack laid the paper aside, and then ran his hands over his knees once before standing. Closing the space between them in a few steps, he took her elbow in one hand and bent to brush a kiss across her cheek. His voice was low and soft.

"Charming."

AUTHOR'S NOTES - Thanks for suspending disbelief with me! Despite his seeming suavity, I think that Jack is still scared witless, but he likes the effect his teasing has on Phryne. :D