He'd been tinkering with the tune for months. Well, a little more than a year, really. The beginnings of the melody had popped into his head one night while playing around on Phryne's magnificent piano. Jack had barely gotten home and changed out of his suit before beelining it straight to his own less-than-majestic piano and had started trying to get the gist of it at least copied down on some music paper before forgetting.
As his relationship with her had progressed, so had the song. More pianissimo here, more allegretto there. But there was an undercurrent of passion, one he'd never been able to fully articulate before meeting the Honorable Miss Fisher. Now when he thought of her, the melody was always somewhere in the back of his mind.
He'd never been able to pluck up enough courage to play it for her, though. Not until it was finished. But it never seemed finished. Always, there was something that he felt he needed to change. So instead he would play the classics or a jazz number that she'd mentioned. Her smile was reward enough—that was all he needed. But, one evening when she was at his home for dinner, she noticed some paper sticking out of his piano bench and, as was her wont, began snooping.
"Ah, no!" he yelped. "No, you can't see that!" Jack vaulted across the room to snatch the papers out of her hand which, to her of course, meant that it was imperative that Phryne know exactly what kind of mystery Jack was keeping from her and she needed to know it right then.
"But what is it?"
"Nothing—it—it's nothing. Just some nonsense."
"If it's nonsense, then surely I can look at it?" His ears were starting to turn pink which only spurred her on further. "If it's that important you would want the person you care for to see it, no?"
"No." The mischief in her eyes magnified tenfold.
"Ja-a-a-a-a-ack…". She started giggling as she tried to snatch them back and he pushed them just out of her reach.
"We can play this game all night, Miss Fisher. Give up now."
"Come now, Jack! You know fully well those were the last words you should have said to me."
"Playing all night or giving up?" He gave her a rather charming smirk and she volleyed with a leering grin.
"Both. Now hand them over or there will be consequences," she grinned.
"Such as?"
She raised her eyes in a thoughtful pose. "Well…I could break in while you're at the station and take a look around for myself."
"Not if I have them at the station with me."
"If those were in your piano bench then they're not important enough to keep on your person at all times."
"They might if I knew you'd be here to abscond with my property."
"I could go home to my own boudoir tonight and leave you here wondering just exactly what kind of lingerie I'm wearing now."
"I have a mental picture of all your lingerie and I take great pleasure in remembering you both in and out of it."
"I'm sure you do." They both grinned like Cheshire cats. "But you know the real thing is far superior to a memory so unless you plan on sleeping alone for the considerable future, you'll hand those papers over."
"Is that a threat, Miss Fisher?" he rumbled.
"Nonsense. Merely a suggestion." She'd slid closer to him while they'd been bantering and while she'd had her hand on his chest at first, it was sliding lower with every breath. He enjoyed the rush of sparring with her, but he had also become very fond of what she could do with the hand that was, at that moment, hovering dangerously near his trouser buttons.
Breathing deeply, he forced the blood back to his brain. "I will give them to you when, and only when, the time is right."
"So those do have something to do with me?" Phryne's eyes lit up at the idea and Jack became as enigmatic as the Sphinx.
"A gift, if you will, yes."
Her smile could have powered most of Melbourne at that moment. He wanted so much to make her smile like that all the time. Pulling away from her reach, he calmly walked back to the piano bench and placed the music paper back inside, closing it firmly.
"You trust me to not peek?"
"I trust you with my life, Miss Fisher."
For a moment she said nothing and Jack wondered if he should just give in and play what he'd already written, when she reached out to grab his arm and pull him towards her in a searing kiss, much like he'd done to her at the airfield.
Melody and harmony intertwined to create the unique song that they alone could play. And they played.
-X—
The weather might have been miserable outside, but inside, it was warm and glowing. Phryne thought she might be a little drunk, but not so much that she couldn't charm the last of her party guests to head home. Half the cabs in Melbourne had come to the Esplanade at least once that night to drop off or pick up the bright young things that had made her soiree a roaring success. A birthday party for a friend leaving Australia to go set up a medical clinic for the poor in India was definitely a good reason for people to kick up their heels, but when Phryne also managed to get them to donate to help buy supplies for said clinic, well, she did enjoy getting people to practice their philanthropic skills.
Humming and swaying to the record still playing, she poured herself one last glass of whisky and kicked off her shoes. Much better, she thought.
"Now that the last of the guests are gone, Miss, I should start straightening up in here." Mr. Butler had a cloth in one hand and a bucket in the other to empty ashtrays and pick up other refuse.
Phryne smiled at him. He really was a treasure. "Not tonight, Mr. B. It's late, you've been on your feet all night, and if anyone deserves a rest, it's you." She glided his direction about as gracefully as four cocktails and a tumbler of whisky would allow. "The food tonight was utterly marvelous, the drinks were perfect, and I think I overheard Emma Stonecraft tell her husband that he needed to steal you away. I half expect to get a phone call tomorrow asking if you're looking to change employment."
"I'm flattered, but I'm perfectly content where I am now, thank you, Miss." Mr. Butler smiled back and brushed off confetti from the back of a chair. "But if you're alright with my retiring for the evening, I think I will take you up on the offer. The leftover food is both in the icebox and covered in the pantry, so Dorothy and I can start doing the cleaning tomorrow."
"That is perfectly fine. Off to bed with you!" Phryne saluted him with her glass and twirled to the song on the phonograph, leaving an amused Mr. Butler to exit the parlor.
He got two steps out when there was a knock on the door. Hoping it wasn't a returning party guest for something they'd misplaced, he opened it to find a rather damp Detective Inspector standing there. The rain behind him had picked up in the last fifteen minutes. "Inspector Robinson, good evening."
"Good evening, Mr. Butler. I know it's late, but would Miss Fisher still be available?"
"Of course, sir. She's in the parlor. Please come in."
"Thank you." Mr. Butler departed to the kitchen and Jack hung his rather damp hat and overcoat in their normal places. He glanced into the parlor to find Phryne in front of the fireplace precariously balancing on one foot while waving the other in front of the flames. He walked over to do his usual lean in the door frame. "That's an interesting method to keep your feet warm."
Nonplussed, Phryne spun around with a dancer's grace and instantly broke into her largest smile. "Jack! You missed an amaaaaaaazing party! The entire town will be buzzing about it for weeks, I'm sure of it. And Jacqueline's clinic is going to be a success—Australia's loss is India's gain, for certain." She did a tipsy little sashay his direction and he reached out to pull her close.
"I've no doubt that to be true. I'm only sorry I had so much to do at the station that I couldn't be here."
She pulled her head back from his shoulder and looked him square in the eye. "Liar." The twinkle she found there only confirmed what she'd already known. "If I didn't know better, I'd put money on the creation of work just to avoid tonight."
He shrugged. "What can I say? I much prefer having you all to myself. Especially," he mumbled as he moved towards her uncovered and very tempting neck, "when I can do this all I like." Jack peppered small kisses from her clavicle to the sensitive spot behind her ear that always made her sigh.
Now warm from head to toe, Phryne began to gently push him away from the door and toward the stairs. "There are so many other places you can kiss me if you follow me upstairs." He hummed appreciatively but pulled away.
"I fully plan on taking advantage of that, but I actually came over here to give you something that you've been curious about for months now."
Phryne brightened. "The Edmunson case?"
"That's the first thing you thought of?" His jaw dropped for a second. "No, we're not close to solving that one."
"Well, what about the evidence locker at City Central 'losing' the murder weapon?"
"That's City Central's problem."
"I know we could wrap it up so much faster than they could if we talk to the sergeant…."
He waved his hands in front of her to get her full attention back. "No, no—this has absolutely nothing to do with a case. This is something else entirely."
Being made to switch gears when she was ready to go full speed in one direction threw her for a bit, especially in her slightly inebriated state, but she rallied and screwed up her face in concentration. "The biscuit recipe for your secret stash?"
His merry laugh echoed off the walls and she couldn't help but join in. "Not even close, Lady Detective. I'll give that to Mr. Butler before you get it." She stuck out her tongue. "No, this has to do with some sheets of music in my piano bench."
Phryne gasped in delight. "The music! I didn't look, Jack! Not once, I promise!"
"I know, you've been very good." He couldn't stop grinning, even as his stomach was starting to flip-flop a little for what was to come. "Come have a seat over here by the window and I'll let you hear it."
As she bounced her way over to the window seat, Jack turned off the phonograph that had been scratching at the finished record the last few minutes and then sat in front of the piano. Phryne had curled herself up on the cushion, glass of whisky still in hand. It reminded him of the first nightcap they'd ever shared. It had been raining that night, too.
At first, he was too nervous to start, even with her face aglow with anticipation. But a clap of thunder rattled and rumbled and it seemed to Jack that it was a signal to get to playing.
So he played. And his fingers danced across the keys with an ease they'd never had before. Her gaze making him quicker, sharper, more capable than he remembered being. The rain pattered the glass in syncopation with the tune. For a moment, he lost himself in the song, and wasn't sure if he was playing it or if it was playing him. All he knew was the music and the love he'd poured into it just for her.
When the last bass note had died away, he turned to look at her, apprehensive as she hadn't said anything right after he'd finished. The tracks of tears on her face and the unshed ones still in her eyes told him everything he needed to know.
"You wrote that just for me?" she asked, trying not to let emotion get the better of her.
"I couldn't help it. It begged to be written." Jack swung from the piano bench and joined her on the window seat, placing her glass on a nearby table and folding her in his arms.
She snuffled into his chest for a few minutes before looking back up at him, his expression nothing but love for her. "It's beautiful," she half-whispered. "No one's ever written me a song before. Well," she sniffed again, "not a real one, anyway. There was this opera singer I knew who claimed he'd written an aria, but it turned out he was singing Puccini and thought I wouldn't know the difference— ".
"Phryne— ".
"Sorry." She nervously fiddled with his shirt collar before fully sitting up again. "I loved it, Jack. Truly. No one's ever given me anything so wonderful before."
"I'm glad you like it. I was nervous about playing it for you."
"Why?"
"Fragile pride, I suppose. Even though I know how you feel about me, I still want to impress you."
She couldn't help but kiss him. "Your very person impresses me, Jack. Always." Phryne curled back up in his embrace and put her hand over his heart, feeling the beat under her fingertips.
They sat for a while, doing nothing more than listening to the rain still tap against the window, when Jack sat them both upright and laced his fingers with hers. "If it isn't too late, I think I can improvise a second part to the song. Lucky for us both, it won't require a piano."
Phryne slyly grinned and stood, pulling him with her. "I think we can make a different kind of music upstairs, Jack."