My second go at a Miss Fisher fic. Thanks to all the lovely reviews for the first one which have given me the encouragement to try another one.

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'Come after me, Jack!' She'd called as she ran to the waiting two-seater aircraft. 'Come after me!'

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Jack watched the small aircraft take off and eventually disappear from view. Part of him had some sympathy for Lord Fisher, flying in a small aircraft was bad enough, with your, somewhat reckless, adventurous daughter, had to be a terrifying prospect. He got in the car and drove home.

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The next couple of days were filled with paperwork, petty criminals and peace. The nights were filled with dreams of The Honourable Phryne Fisher, Lady Detective, in her car, in the airplane, and her voice, calling him, 'Come after me!'

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He didn't like the peace and quiet, he missed her sitting on the edge of his desk, deliberately letting her skirt show her stockings, just below her garter. He missed her teasing, pinching his toast off the plate on his desk, or the biscuits out of his, supposedly, hidden tin.

He missed her appearing at a crime scene, before or after him.

He missed her expensive perfume, her light touch on his arm, her face looking up at him when she had got an answer, whether it be right or wrong, and she was rarely wrong.

Jack missed Phryne, more than he would care to admit.

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Over the next week he tried to immerse himself in his work. There was enough crime in Melbourne to keep him and his men busy. He was just finishing reading a forensic report on a body found behind one of the houses in Sampson Lane off Little Lonsdale Street. Young woman, strangled with her scarf. Broken fingernails indicated she may have fought with her attacker. She had been robbed of any possessions, though Jack didn't think there would be much. The report was signed by Dr E Macmillan. He smiled to himself, he could go and see her in the morgue, and politely ask if she had heard anything from Miss Fisher. Just to check she hadn't landed in the Indian Ocean, literally.

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Dr Macmillan looked up as Inspector Robinson entered the morgue.

'Inspector,' she smiled, 'what brings you here? Too many long words in my report?'

'Ha ha,' he grinned, 'just wanted another look, you know, check you haven't missed anything.'

'Cheek,' she wiped her hands, 'have you been taking lessons from Miss Fisher?'

'I'm sure she's forgotten all about crime solving in Melbourne and is driving Scotland Yard round the bend now.'

'Actually, she's still in Paris.' Mac told him, 'she called me last night. Keeping Henry out of the clubs and watering holes is a full time job, apparently.'

'Staying out of the clubs,' Jack gasped, 'that doesn't sound like our Lady Detective?'

'Oh, she'd be quite happy, but if she lets Henry into a club...' she left the rest hanging, he understood. 'She's heading off again tomorrow, should be in London tomorrow night.'

'Perhaps I should warn the local constabularies.'

Mac smiled, she could see the light in his eyes when he talked of Phryne, it had been missing lately, on the odd occasion she had seen him.

They discussed the case and agreed it was a strangling, possibly a rival prostitute, it didn't look like a man's work.

'Men usually use their hands,' Mac noted.

'Thank you, Dr Macmillan,' he waved the file at her as he left, 'give Miss Fisher my regards when you next speak to her.'

'I will.'

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They found the killer of the young girl, now know to be Mary-Jane Knowles. New to Melbourne and, as Mac had surmised, it was a rival. Mary-Jane had slipped in on another prostitute's patch and taken her clients.

'Go with anyone, anywhere,' Kathleen, 'kicking Kate' to those who knew her, snarled in the interview. 'Cheap little slut.'

Jack raised his eyebrows and told Collins to take her down to the cells, thinking it was a bit of the 'pot calling the kettle black'.

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Jack blinked in the darkness, the phone was ringing, bringing him out of his dream where he was chasing some errant wharfie down a street, himself pursued by Miss Fisher calling,

'Wait for me, Jack!'

'Inspector Robinson,' he fairly grunted down the receiver, there were times he resented the invention of the blasted instrument.

'Hello, Jack!' A familiar voice sang down the phone, 'did I wake you?'

'Miss Fisher?' He looked at the ear piece, 'do you know what time it is?'

'Oh, the night is young, Inspector.' She blithely replied, he could see the smile on her face, the wide eyes, the red lips.

'It's two thirty in the morning.' He informed her.

'Oh, sorry, I did wake you.' Again he saw her tip her head to the side and smile, 'well I just wanted to let you know I managed to get father back home to mother, safely.'

'I'm so glad.' He was, glad she was safe and glad Henry was out of Australia.

'Well, if I can help you with any little problems, just give me a call,' she said, 'even across the miles I wouldn't want you to be without me.'

'Thank you, Miss Fisher,' he smiled, cheeky madam, he thought, 'but we've managed these past ten days without you.'

'As you wish, Inspector, dear. This is my number anyway, I'm staying with my parents in their town house, in Kensington.' She reeled off a telephone number, 'well back to your sleep, Inspector, I'm sure someone will be up to no good tomorrow.' And she hung up.

Jack looked at the ear piece and put it back on its cradle then headed back to bed, shaking his head and smiling.

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Over the next couple of days Jack thought about the phone call from Miss Fisher. The number she had given him and the fact that she had told him where she was staying.

He sat in his office after a boring day. He needed a break, a holiday. Now that was a thought, he'd not taken a proper holiday for some time, and had accrued some leave, enough for a trip abroad. He'd served in France, but would have liked to see England, the land of his forefathers. However, it was a three week cruise, if he went by ship. But...if he flew?

'Collins, I'll be back in half an hour.' He strolled out of his office and past Hugh Collins, into the street and down to a travel agent.

Half an hour later he was still reeling at what he had just done, but, there, in an envelope was his ticket on the next flight to London, via half the world. Eleven days, several stop offs, but he could do it. He looked at his watch and grinned. 'Two can play at that game, Miss Fisher,' he whispered to himself.

He drove home, he couldn't make this call in the office, apart from prying ears, there was the cost.

He waited while the connection was made, 'Can I speak to Miss Phryne Fisher, please?' He could barely keep the smile out of his voice, and when the maid; he assumed; said that Miss Phryne was in bed, he just said it was urgent, from Australia with regard to a police case.

'I'm sorry about the early hour,' he lied. 'It's Inspector Robinson.'

He waited.

'Jack, couldn't this have waited? It's half past six in the morning.' She croaked down the phone.

'Sorry, did I wake you?'

'You know fine well you did, so what's this about a case?' She began to sound a bit brighter.

'Just thought I'd let you know I'm flying over to England, need to take a break.' He wasn't sure if he'd got her meaning when she had told him to go after her, he hoped he hadn't made a huge mistake.

'Jack, that's wonderful!' She sounded genuinely pleased. 'When will you be here?'

'Two weeks from today, that will be the fifteenth.' He smiled at her reaction. 'I didn't book a hotel, perhaps you could recommend one.'

'You'll stay with us.'

'Miss Fisher, I didn't mean...' and he hadn't, but the hotels included in the package meant he had to give a definite date of return, and he wasn't really sure.

'I know you didn't, but all the same,' she laughed, 'there's plenty of room here and I could do with an ally against father. Mother's dying to meet you.'

'Miss Fisher...'

Not another word, Inspector.' She cut him off, 'Now what time will you land, I'll pick you up.'

Mentally picturing a reckless drive through London in whatever car she was driving, he sighed and gave her the details.

'I'll see you then, Jack.' She cut the connection.

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In the hall, in the Kensington house, The Honourable Phryne Fisher, Lady Detective was positively bursting with joy, and now wide awake. She wasn't enjoying London as much as she thought she would and was wondering whether she should cut her trip short and fly home, but now Jack was coming to see her, she could have some fun. She'd been out to clubs and attended dinners and balls her mother had arranged, or had had her added on to the invitations but she hadn't had as much fun as she hoped. Not one single dalliance, not easy in her parents' house, admittedly, but not one young man had captured her attention. She had to admit, but only to herself, she missed Jack, and the kiss on the airstrip was not just a kiss.

She headed back up to her bedroom and into the bathroom. She ran a bath and poured in a liberal amount of rose scented bath crystals. She dropped her nightdress and robe over the stool and sank into the warm water thinking of all the things she and Jack could do for however long he was staying. He wouldn't be able to have too much time away, but she could offer to fly him back, that way she would have an excuse to go back with him, and stay in her beloved Melbourne.

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Jack put the phone down and headed back to City South Police Station to make his men aware of his plans and arrange for another Inspector to take his place until he returned. He also wanted to let Dr Macmillan know she would have another police officer to deal with, but he was leaving Senior Constable Collins for her. Also, he didn't want her to find out by other means that he had gone away, to England and therefore to Miss Fisher. He detoured via the morgue to catch her.

'Inspector, what can I do for you?' Mac smiled as he entered. 'I don't think I have a body, or do I?'

'No, doctor,' he suddenly became a little embarrassed. 'I just wanted to let you know someone else will be taking over at City South for a while, I'm taking some holiday.'

'And this would be of interest to me because..?' She opened her eyes.

'I didn't want you to find out by a circuitous route and put two and two together and get the right answer.' He smiled, she was one of the easiest people to talk to he knew, easier even than Miss Fisher.

'You have a lovely time.' She said, gently. 'You deserve a break.'

'Thank you, I'll leave you Constable Collins.' He shook her hand and left.

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While he didn't say where he was going Hugh understood at once and he would take great delight in telling his wife that the Inspector had gone after Miss Fisher. The rest of the men just nodded and said they'd try to keep everything going.

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Jack checked he had everything, tickets, money, cheque book, his service revolver was in one of his suitcases, not that he really knew why he was taking it, there again, Miss Fisher..., passport, top inside pocket of his jacket.

He locked the door of his house and hopped into Cec and Bert's taxi, so they now knew he was out of Melbourne, and they'd worked out where he was going, too.

'Right, Inspector?' Bert turned round, 'Off we go.'

'Thank you.' Jack smiled.

'Mrs Collins asked us to give you this,' Cec passed him a package, 'for the journey.'

Jack raised his eyebrows, but from the shape and feel of it, it was some of her biscuits that usually found their way into his, not so, secret tin.

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The flights were long, but the company wasn't too bad. He kept pretty much to himself, only answering questions, not initiating conversations. He had to think about his trip, how it would feel, seeing her again. Some of his fellow passengers wanted him to regale them with stories of his cases, but he only told of those that didn't include The Honourable Phryne Fisher, Lady Detective, and when he was asked the purpose of his trip he just said he was visiting an old friend.

He found himself observing the passengers that got on at different stops, not all those who had boarded in Melbourne were going to London, some were stopping in cities along the way. Some he was glad to see go, like the German matriarch who was determined to have him form an alliance with her somewhat plain and solid daughter. He was polite to them but very glad to see the back of them. Not that he had any belief about himself and Miss Fisher it was just that solid and plain girls, German or any other nationality, weren't his type.

His last stop was Paris. He had the time to wander the streets of a place he hadn't seen for years. It was vibrant and bright, something that Miss Fisher was, and he could well imagine it wasn't much fun for her to keep her father on the straight and narrow while they refuelled the plane and themselves.

He boarded the plane in the early morning, the last leg of his journey, and he was almost excited, to be seeing her again. In fact, every time he thought of her his heart did a little flip, until he told himself to behave, he was a middle aged police officer not some callow youth in lust.

He smiled as they flew over the white cliffs of Dover and eagerly looked out of the window for signs of the airport. He was struggling to contain his joy, and wondered how Miss Fisher felt about his visit.

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He collected his suitcases and his passport and walked out to the front of the main building. He couldn't see anyone waving or trying to attract his attention, so he put his case down. Suddenly there was a screech of brakes and the sound of a horn. He looked up to see, running across the tarmac in a most unladylike fashion, The Honourable Phryne Fisher, Lady Detective. Her arms were wide and she practically threw herself into his and he found himself picking her up and swinging her round. As he completed a complete circle she bent her head to his and touched her lips to his, firmly.

'Hello, Jack.' She smiled, a sultry and extremely sexy smile.

'Miss Fisher,' if she hadn't knocked his hat off in her enthusiastic greeting he would have raised it, politely.

She practically dragged him to her car, a dark green Bentley speed six. Nothing sedate for Miss Fisher, he noted.

'Sorry it's not the Hispano,' she grinned, revving the engine and taking off at break neck speed.

'I'm sure you can break just as many speed laws in this, Miss Fisher,' he looked at her, trying not to smile, which she would take as encouragement.

'Inspector,' she teased, 'as if.'

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So, this is my second fan fic for Miss Fisher, and will have more chapters. Writing two differently timed fictions, 1920s/30s for Miss Fisher and 1950s/60s for Dr Blake isn't easy so I hope I got this one right.