Note: Six people are playing a fanfic version of MFMM Cluedo. Murdoch Foyle has been murdered in Miss Fisher's House. We must discover the name of the murderer, the weapon and in which room the murder was committed. Every player must 'investigate' by writing a fic (100-1000 words). Each round, more and more clues can be crossed off their list. The first person to solve the mystery will write the story of Foyle's death and earn great praise for their cleverness. If you would like to play your own game please PM GameMaster19 for the rules and instructions.
Hiya! This was a fun little fic to write. I'm not sure what I think of it, might be a little far for Jack...Eh. Maybe he had some champagne and was feeling naughty. Yes, that. Enjoy!
Phryne shut the bathroom door behind her and leaned on it, breathing out a sigh of relief. Her enjoyment of Aunt P's parties usually depended on the number of handsome, commitment-adverse men in attendance, and this event was heavily weighted towards oafish and prowling. Phryne had anticipated the poor odds, but her backup plan had been derailed. Or had willfully derailed himself.
A knock on the door jolted her out of her thoughts.
"Is the lavatory occupied?" a familiar, husky voice asked. Phryne grinned. Perhaps the evening wouldn't be a waste after all.
"This lavatory is fully occupied," Phryne called, wrenching the door open and smiling at the startled inspector.
"Uhm," Jack replied. He was still blinking at her, processing her sudden appearance with much less than his usual mental alacrity, when she grabbed his collar and yanked him into the room. She practically slammed the door, and turned to lean on it with her arms crossed as she eyed her captive.
Jack stood, half-crouched, in the center of the room, looking very much like prey caught in the crosshairs. He straightened slowly and pulled ineffectively at his disarrayed shirt.
"How is it, Jack Robinson, that I invite you to the party of the season, and you manage to find half a dozen of the oldest, most boring men in Melbourne to engage in a discussion?"
"Invite me to a party? Is that what you did? I seem to recall an entirely different conversation, about the Wilson case. I still don't even know what the murder weapon was, and you said you had information for me."
"Well, I do."
"And? Now seems as appropriate a time as any." His lips twisted into a sardonic smile at the absolute inappropriateness of the situation.
"…the investigation proceeds apace."
"Indeed. A stunning insight."
Phryne wouldn't have been surprised to hear his dripping sarcasm had curdled the milk in the kitchen across the house. She sighed and moved away from the door.
"Alright, you're free to go," she said, gesturing to the exit as she perched on the edge of the bathtub. Jack snorted at her choice of words but didn't move.
"What are you doing in here?" he asked, looking around the room suspiciously, as if he expected a dead body to be stuffed behind the bathtub. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you…hiding?"
"I don't hide from anything."
"Hmm," Jack said. He shot one last glance at the exit, then came over and leaned on the bathtub next to her. They both studied the sink across the room as if it were the most fascinating object in the universe.
"Lewis James?" Jack asked, after awhile.
Phryne shuddered in spite of herself. Jack had, as usual, hit remarkably close to the mark.
"He was perfectly enjoyable, until he got it into his head to court me in earnest," she said. "Aunt P's campaign to burden me with a socially acceptable marriage is the most impressive and well-executed of her many schemes."
Jack considered that for a moment. "You have to admire her tenacity. She would have made a better officer than any of the men I ever marched under."
Phryne dissolved into giggles as she pictured Aunt P in her floral-print frock, waddling back and forth in front of a line of men twice her height, waving a pistol and shouting rallying cries.
Jack was giving her his half grin, an expression that had more to do with the twinkle in his eyes than the every-so-slight tilt of the corner of his mouth. Phryne bumped his shoulder with hers affectionately.
A knock on the door startled them both.
"Phryne?" Phryne winced as she recognized the unctuous tones of her suitor. He no doubt hoped to corner her and shower her in clumsy, well-meaning kisses. Jack raised an eyebrow at her, the twinkle in his eyes turning downright wicked. Phryne's evil grin mirrored his.
She stood, throwing herself backwards against the door with a clatter. Jack was just behind her, rattling the door again as he thumped into it beside her.
"…the powder room…ooh…is occupied…ahh," Phryne said breathily.
"...who is that?" Jack rasped.
"I'm sorry!" the young man said, mortification clear in his voice. They could hear his rapidly retreating footsteps as he beat a hasty retreat.
Phryne began to laugh, deep and full-throated. Jack was blushing a bit and not quite meeting her eyes, but he was smirking.
"You continue to surprise me. And thank you…" Phryne said to the man standing shoulder to shoulder with her. She knew she had more to say than that, but her throat seemed unaccountably tight all of a sudden.
Jack shrugged dismissively. He made a face at her.
"You didn't have to trick me into being your backup, you know. You could have just asked. Unless asking for help is something you don't do. Like hiding."
It was Phryne's turn to look away. She studied the sink again. Blinked. She marched over to it and knelt, running her fingers along the piping below.
"The Wilson case, you said it was blunt force trauma? To the back of the head?"
"Erm," Jack stuttered. "Yes."
"A pipe, perhaps?"
Realization dawned on Jack's face. "His cousin manages a pipe factory."
"Sounds like you need to talk to his cousin."
"We do. Sooner, rather than later," he said. "In fact, I think you'd better excuse yourself from the rest of the party."
The smile that spread across Phryne's face was like the sun coming up. She stood on tiptoes and kissed Jack's cheek, before marching off to find her aunt. Jack caught up at the front door, and offered her an elbow. Linking arms, the two detectives happily headed off to their own version of a night on the town.