Welcome. I haven't written in some time but it's Christmas and so I thought I'd share this story with you. In all honesty, this is my gift to Mads and El who love this show and the joy and sexual tension it brings but I hope you all enjoy it.

That being said, there are spoilers for the entire series scattered throughout so if you haven't caught up with series three, you might want to watch that first.

Reviews are always welcomed.

Enjoy

Come after me, Jack.

Everything was dreary.

It was so much colder here than it was back home but that was no unexpected setback in her life. It was the grey landscape and the chilling winds that made the Australian girl long for some familiarity. Over the last few months Phryne just felt tired. London was very similar to Melbourne in a lot of ways and yet she couldn't help the desire to run away from home – an idea she hadn't entertained since she was young, or younger.

The detective quietly drank her tea as she listened to the incessant squawking on the other end of the telephone. Even with the receiver face down on the table her mother's voice was still unrelenting and incredibly high-pitched. She was so glad that her parents had reunited and were working on their marriage but living in the same town meant that she had more contact with her family than she thought endurable.

Why, oh, why did she decide to spend a few months in London instead of returning home right away?

Curse London for having a more disreputable standing in the world than her own humble criminal realm.

Phryne stared out the window while the squawking continued. Seeing snow on Christmas Eve was not something unusual but these past few years living in one place had left the detective feeling unsettled in her new environment. For the first time in a long time, she'd left a family behind when she moved to a new city. She missed them; particularly a certain Detective Inspector who hadn't spoken to her since the day she flew away.

Perhaps she'd been mistaken…

No, she shook her head, these things took time. Patience was a virtue she rarely entertained but for once, she was willing to wait – if only for the sake of being too stubborn to make the first move.

And her mother was still talking.

How could one woman have so much to talk about without anyone else contributing to the conversation? Phryne rolled her eyes. Time to end things.

She picked up the telephone and interrupted her mother. "That's all very well but I'm afraid I must be off. I'm meeting a client. A Happy Christmas to you and father. I shall speak to you in the new year." Before the woman had a chance to respond, Phryne hung up the phone and wished she hadn't lied to her mother. Again.

Truth be told, she hadn't had a client in several weeks. And truth be told, she was bored out of her mind. Here she was, in one of the criminal capitals of the western world, and no one had come to her for help with even the slightest inconvenience.

Perhaps it was time to pack up. Perhaps it was time to move on. Perhaps –

There was a knock at the door.

Detective Inspector Jack Robinson hated travelling for long periods of time. Of course he'd travelled in his life but it had been another time – the world was another place. It was still as exhausting and cramped as he'd remembered. The man sharing his accommodations smelt of old fish and salted peanuts – and odd combination to say the least.

It took him a month to work up the courage to finally follow through on an overly-romanticized promise. It took him another month to save up the money and convince his superiors to let him take an indeterminate amount of leave. And now here he was on Christmas Eve, standing in the doorway of the honourable Miss Phryne Fisher, scared out of his wits to even knock on the door. After all this time.

But he'd come all this way and to lose his courage now would be…

Well, it would be a frightful waste of money and if anything, he was a sensible man.

He dropped his suitcase by the door and made the plunge.

His knock was sharp and quick – to the point.

If it wasn't so blasted cold in England, he wouldn't be shaking so much. Why was this country so bleary? He bounced around, hugging himself for comfort but nothing helped. All that was left was to wait for her. Again.

When she finally opened the door, he lost his breath. She was just as beautiful and bright as he'd remembered. Her cheeks had lost their colour, he noticed, but her lips were red like wine and open with a smile.

A precious sight he'd sorely missed.

But her eyes were open in shock and – he hoped – excitement. But mostly shock. And that gave him pause. He hoped she would be excited to see him.

Phryne was stunned into silence: a sentence not used often – even in her head. But the man she'd been waiting on for months was suddenly standing in her doorway like he'd always been there. He was as handsome and charming as she'd remembered. That crinkled smile, those scrutinizing eyes that undressed her and scolded her with a single glance. Oh how she'd missed those eyes.

Speak. One of them should speak.

"Happy Christmas." She released a long awaited breath.

"Happy Christmas." That low, rumbling noise shook her to her core. How she'd missed that gravelly voice of his.

Warmth spread through her and bubbled over into a smile. "Jack." A clang of china from the dining room made her jump in surprise, jolting her into a hyper-sense of awareness. "Jack. You're here." She closed the door tight against her hip, blocking her companion's view of the foyer. "Honestly I wasn't expecting that today."

His smile hid a hint of nervousness. They'd been here before. "I was hoping to surprise you. I see it worked."

"I am very glad to see you Jack. You took me off guard, that's all."

His smile turned sour. They'd definitely been here before. "I understand."

Oh? Oh! Phryne opened her mouth to explain. She knew where his mind was – the hurt in his eyes – but she wasn't sure how to ease his mind with a few words. "Jack I can-"

"No, it's…" He stepped backwards into the frigid winter air. "London is a far cry from Melbourne. I understand the temptation."

How had she moved on already? Four months. They'd been separated for four months with the promise of some sort of relationship and yet here she was, pushing him out, hiding things from him. They'd seen each other for less than five minutes. How did they always end up in these situations? How were they already fighting?

He needed to leave. He needed to go back to his hotel and think things through. He'd come all this way and she hadn't waited for him. Jack turned to leave but was only a few steps away from her when she cried out to him.

"Now you wait just a minute Jack Robinson." She followed him out into the cold with a stomp of her stocking feet in the snow. "How dare you judge me without all the information."

"There's no judgement, Miss Fisher, I've simply lost my patience."

"Patience for what?" They were now toe to toe, her chin lifted to him in defiance.

"For the revolving door of men in your parlour."

Her glare froze his blood more than any chill in the air. Perhaps he'd crossed a line but he was brimming with something akin to hurt and anger – so much so that he pretended he didn't care. But she was fuming; chest heaving, face flushed. At least the colour was back in her cheeks. But her eyes were ablaze, bright and playful, warning him not to push her over the edge.

"You listen here. I will not be criticised for the way I live my life or the way I conduct my business. There will always be men in my parlour and if you can't handle that" she shook her head "then I'm afraid you've wasted a trip."

The moment the words left her lips, his chest collapsed in defeat. His jaw slackened and his eyes refused to meet her steely gaze. Of course she wouldn't hesitate to put him in his place no matter what continent they were on.

But he didn't get a chance to apologize. Phryne ducked her head to find his ashamed eyes and smiled sternly. This conversation was over.

"Now." She spoke briskly "if you'd like to come inside, I believe we have a lot to catch up on."

She turned towards the house and strutted back inside like it was a summer's afternoon and her stockings weren't soaked through with the snow. Jack was frozen in…fear? Shock? Awe? Whatever it was, his heart was pounding and, despite their intense discussion, he couldn't help but smile.

He'd gone after her. And she was letting him in.

A Happy Christmas indeed.