So, here we are again, with chapter 7 of the Phryniverse. If you have clicked on this by accident, don't run just yet, it's pretty self contained as always. To the ones of you who have been waiting, I feel I need to apologize for the great delay. The last few months were rather challenging, leaving this story to develop at snail's pace. Last but not least, I would like to point out that there will be both violence (as always) and sex (possibly a bit more than usual, or less, depending on the point of view). Consider yourself warned. And now please enjoy.

Chapter 1: Flamenco

Flickering flames illuminated the man leaning at the mantelpiece, a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. He was currently smiling at a woman who stood near the parlour door.

"I can't shoot you if you look at me like this," she complained.

"You are aware that you are not supposed to actually kill me, Miss Fisher?" Jack asked, calmly draining his glass. Phryne rolled her eyes at him without letting her gun sink.

"I have no intention of hurting you, now hold still."

The Inspector obeyed, swallowing down any comment on how he still wasn't particularly comfortable with the barrel of a weapon aimed at his chest. If she had been anyone but Phryne he wouldn't have allowed her to. Sadly he wasn't only willing to entrust his life to her, he also found he was completely unable to deny her anything much. So, he just watched his wife in silence as she walked closer, her arm with the golden gun outstretched.

"Peng," she said quietly. Jack realised that he had been shot and dropped, attempting to not hit himself in the face with the whisky tumbler nor set his clothes on fire.

She laughed.

"That was shocking, Jack."

When he opened his eyes, ready to protest, he found her kneeling beside him.

"He could've never fallen that way if she shot him from there," she stated calmly. "It's impossible."

Jack stared up at his wife, trying to hold onto his thoughts on their perplexing murder case. It was rendered hard by the flames causing her eyes to sparkle and her contented expression waking in him the urge to kiss her.

"You were right then? Suicide?" he asked hoarsely, pulling himself up onto his elbows.

"I told you that she was in love with him, she wouldn't have hurt him," Phryne replied, holding his gaze with her mouth only inches from his.

"People do the strangest things for love," the Inspector protested, before he surrendered and pulled her lips down to his. The resurfaced somewhat breathless a few moments later.

"Maybe even pretend to murder someone," Phryne grinned, her fingers trailing down his chest.

"This isn't a good idea, Miss Fisher," Jack pointed out, without struggling. "Jane-"

"-Is at Madame Claudine's, learning to foxtrot," Phryne finished while she opened his tie with talented fingers.

"And as I recall, Mr. Butler is having a date..." Jack whispered, his fingers starting to unbutton her blouse.

Phryne only smiled and leaned in to nibble on his neck. The Inspector groaned quietly when her lips touched his sensitive skin, the sound sending tingles through her stomach.

"Still, we are in the middle of the parlour," he protested, but realised that he didn't stand a chance. He allowed his eyes to fall shut, giving into her roaming hands.

"You are too proper, Inspector," Phryne smiled. That was an insult he would not have and a second later a surprised screech cut through the quiet house, as Mrs. Robinson found herself flat on her back.

"That was a very unfair manoeuvre, Jack," she protested, but he just sealed her mouth with a passionate kiss.

"I've learned from the best."

As if to prove that his hand ran up her side, caressing her through the separating fabric.

"I've always taken you for a devoted study," she teased while her fingers slipped to the buttons of his pants. Jack could barely keep his hips from jerking, as he breathlessly waited for her touch.

"Mrs. Robinson! Inspector!"

Jack retreated with such speed that he almost did end up in the fireplace. Phryne managed to close her blouse just in time before a panting Constable Collins appeared in their parlour door.

"Hugh?"

She was already on her feet while Jack was still busy swallowing down his annoyance with Phryne's overeager idea of having a connecting door with their neighbours. While he fully understood why she would want to keep Dorothy Collins near, it left the two police officers married to the women in a somewhat strange position of almost, if not quite, living together. And Constable Collins was possibly the very last person in the world, who Jack wanted to catch him rolling around the parlour floor in a state of half dress.

Hugh, however, did currently seem not particularly observant in regards to unbuttoned clothes and missing ties, instead stumbling over his words.

"Mrs. Robinson, it's coming. The baby..."

Phryne threw a look at Jack, who was hurriedly buttoning up his vest.

"Jack, telephone for the midwife," she ordered, before her husband had caught up with the events.

"Where is Dot?" she asked Hugh, dragging him back into the hallway.

The Inspector watched in stunned silence as Phryne and the Constable disappeared, then finally made a dash for the hall, when he stumbled over something. He picked up the golden weapon from where it had been carelessly discarded on the floor sometime between their experiment and... other things. He made a mental note to have a word with Phryne in regards to her pistol. After all it wasn't a toy. Yet, he couldn't help but smile as he tentatively snapped open the cylinder. He nodded before he closed it again. So he had been right.

A knock tore him from his thoughts and reminded him that there was a rather urgent call to attend to. A few hurried steps later he arrived in the hall, ripping the door open with little consideration of who would visit their house at this time of night. The person on the porch was one he would have expected.

"You could just tell me it's a bad time," Mac quipped happily.

"Hmm?" Jack asked absent-mindedly, before he realised that he was still clutching Phryne's gun in his right hand.

"Actually, your timing seems rather perfect," he grinned, stepping aside. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him while the Inspector finally went to use the telephone.

X

The air seemed to crackle as she spun away from him, but a strong hand ripped her back into his grasp. With glittering eyes she pressed herself against him, his hand tenderly slipping over her back, before she struggled free from his embrace with the very next beat. When the last notes trailed away, someone clapped. Camila turned, sweat glittering on her forehead, her jewellery sparkling in the light. She blinked with some confusion at the girls standing in the doorway, but caught herself quickly and hinted a curtsey. Her dancing partner was still catching his breath and managed to paint a smile onto his lips, while his eyes stared at the lady standing between the young girls with barely hidden annoyance.

"As you can see, Ladies, this is a quite different kind of dancing," Madame Claudine explained, without tearing her gaze from the scowling man. "It takes passion and many years of practice to become this enchanting. But we will have a look at the English Tango during your time here."

At the mention of the Ballroom dance that had taken it's victory lap through the clubs and dance schools of Europe in the past years, the look of annoyance on the man's face deepened. His employer's smile stayed unshaken while she waved him over. Ignored by both of them, Camila excused herself to change out of her drenched dress. One pair of curious blue eyes followed her as she slipped through the door.

"May I present this years Debutantes? Mr. Nicolas Steeger, one of our dancing teachers, specialized in Argentine Tango."

"Charmed, I'm sure," the man said, looking not charmed at all.

"Nicolas has learned tango the only true way, in the bars of Buenos Aires."

There was a certain glitter in the dancer's face that promised trouble but was continuously ignored by Madame Claudine. Someone giggled in the way of a young, well-bred girl who is confronted with a handsome man with sweat dripping down his neck, slicking his black hair. Some of them had met the dancer before and where less giggling and more obviously staring.

"Steeger doesn't sound particularly Spanish to me," a girl exclaimed in the back. Another one barely repressed a roll of her eyes.

"There were many European immigrants during the Great War and before," she explained calmly towards her friend.

Nicolas Steeger looked at the young woman, a genuine smile appearing on his face. Claudine seemed somewhat stunned at this turn of events.

"That is, of course, true, Miss..."

"Jane," the teenager grinned. Under the stunned and somewhat jealous silence of five other girls, Nicolas Steeger, a man whose charms had broken more hearts than most of the girls in question could count, pulled the teenager's hand to his lips and gave her tiny wink.

"You are a very smart young woman, Miss Jane. If I may give you some advice: learn to dance. Men are scared of smart women, but they love women who can dance."

Jane's raised an eyebrow and rescued her hand from the man.

"I'll make sure to keep that in mind."

The sarcasm went unheard, while Mr. Steeger took his leave from the group of giggling juveniles and retreated for a wash and change, but Jane's eyes followed him through the door where Camilla had disappeared earlier. A hand touched her shoulder.

"Are you coming?" Melody asked. "Madame has released us for today."

Jane had trouble tearing herself away. Her stomach told her that something was going on. She wasn't for nothing the daughter of two detectives after all. Laughter interrupted her musing.

"Look at you, all sheep-eyed over Mr. Steeger. He is very handsome."

Jane slowly shook her head, trying to retrieve the thoughts she had just lost.

"Not to me," she said, turning on her heel and causing her dress to twirl around her as she headed for the stairs. There was only more giggles answering her. But it was true. If Jane had learned one thing from her foster mother, then that a man who was scared of a woman using her brain was best to be avoided.

Madame Claudine waited until the girls had left before she headed for the changing rooms. Raised voices sounded muffled through the closed door. She smiled quietly to herself before retreating to her office.

X

The light flickered above the three people huddled in the small kitchen. Jack Robinson stared at the door that was still annoyingly shut and pulled himself to his feet. He probably could have made up someplace he had to be, but instead he shared a look with his wife and started pacing towards the stove, almost bumping head first into Hugh Collins, who was pacing in the opposite direction. Phryne couldn't suppress a grin. A baby's screaming made both men spin on their heels. But the door stayed closed. Mrs. Robinson stretched out a hand for her husband, who obediently sank down beside her, grasping for her fingers. While she wrapped his sweaty hand in hers, Phryne glanced at his features. For what reason was he so nervous, she wondered. After all, it was Hugh's wife currently giving birth and not herself. The thought actually caused her to swallow painfully, wiping the smile of her face. What if this stirred up half forgotten feelings?

Of course, they had long since talked about his inability to have children of his own. Jack had declared himself content with the family made up of her and Jane and the random other people populating their house, but the subtle tremble of his fingers caused her to question if pain rooted this deeply ever really faded away completely. She guessed not.

As if he could read her thoughts, Jack's grip tightened and he flashed her a smile. Phryne's annoyance evaporated without a chance to rise. Before she could think of something to say to release the pressure building in the room, the dreaded door finally opened and a flushed Mac stepped through.

"We made it," she smiled. "Your son was in quite a hurry to come into the world in the end, Constable."

The broadest of grins slowly spread over Hugh's face, bringing Phryne's smile back. Jack stepped behind his Constable, lying a hand on his shoulder.

"Congratulations, Collins."

But Hugh seemed oblivious to either of them.

"Can I see them?"

He could as it turned out and moments later he stood beside a exhausted but happy Dot, who was cradling a wrapped up bundle on her chest. The Robinsons stood in some awe in the background as Hugh approached his wife and looked at the beautiful baby they had made together.

"He's tiny," he whispered, unable to tear his eyes from the little man. Dot smiled, a sweaty lock sticking to her forehead.

"He has your eyes, Hugh."

The Constable leaned over the bed, trying to get a good look. The little boy stared at him, obviously unimpressed and shoved a tiny thumb into his mouth.

Gently, Mac took the baby from his mother's chest and laid it into the proud father's waiting arms. After a moment of stunned hesitation, Hugh grinned at the tiny bundle of human that would dictate his future. Phryne took the chance to sneak closer and whisper something into Dot's ear and press a kiss to her cheek. Dot thanked her by taking her hand without tearing her eyes from her enchanted husband.

"Have you decided on a name?" he asked, sounding hoarse.

"I believe he looks like a Thomas."

The tiny boy gurgled happily, as if to agree to his name, while his father just stared dumbstruck at his wife.

"You never said..." he trailed off.

Dot reached out her free hand, while Mac took the baby from Hugh, before he would drop it in surprise.

"Of course I was thinking of your dad!"

"I wish he had met you, Dottie."

Hugh sounded by now suspiciously watery and Jack, still standing in the doorway, had to avert his eyes as Collins leaned down to finally press a gentle kiss to his wife's lips, in order to hide the tears currently tightening his own throat. Instead, however, he met Phryne's eyes, who was smiling at him in a way that assured him she could see right through his strained composure.

"Would you mind taking him for a moment. I need to go talk to the midwife," another female voice asked and a second later, Thomas Collins was thrust into the Inspector's completely unprepared arms before he had a chance to protest. He stared down into a pair of bright blue eyes in the middle of a red, wrinkly face, scrutinizing him curiously. Something shifted in the Inspector's heart.

Mrs. Robinson watched the scene with mixed feelings. The softness in her husband's eyes was obvious - Jack had fallen in love. And while she still wasn't quite sure how she felt about the newest extension to her family, there was something so breathtakingly beautiful about the moment shared between those two, that she found herself unable to even think the smallest sarcastic thought. Instead she photographed this tender little smile playing around Jack's lips for her memory, along with Dot's glowing cheeks and the absolute pride and pleasure displayed on Hugh's features as he watched his superior hold his son like a small, wonderful treasure. So, Phryne decided bravely, while approaching her husband, that maybe it was time for even the most glamorous of Lady Detectives to face her fears. With a look of tender joy, Jack laid the little boy into her arms, just in time for Thomas to decide that it was time for his first wee.

X

"You can't be serious!" the man spat, a hand grabbing onto the woman's shoulder with a grip slightly too tight to be affectionate. "You're my wife!"

She glanced it him in the mirror, without stopping for a moment in her tracks.

"I know that," Camila answered calmly and Nicolas withdrew without the scowl leaving his handsome features. While she continued to wipe make-up from her face, she hummed a tiny melody. It could have been the music they had danced to, but then it was too quiet to really hear. "It's just dancing, I don't intend to run away with him."

She turned, watched her husband, who had sunk into a chair, fiddling with her hairbrush.

"It's tango!" he exclaimed.

"True. And it doesn't mean anything, as you never tire to explain to me."

He didn't answer. After a long moment of annoyed silence, he slammed down the brush and left, throwing the door shut behind him with a loud bang. Camila flinched, but continued to attend to her make-up and a moment later, humming again filled the room.