Á deux
This is a story that first came into my head when I was listening to music (a certain line from Dido's Take My Hand to be exact). I had an idea that it is not completely unreasonable to think that Jack and Phryne crossed paths at some point during the war in France whether they knew about it or not.
I finally decided to write it down and share it. This is my first ever fanfic people so please be gentle. However, feel free to tell me if it's a pile of pants too and I will know not to sully the wonderful pool of talented writers already on this site.
He burst through the exit of the medical tent; the thick canvas walls and the space within it had grown too much for him to bear any longer. The constant smell of putrid flesh and the sounds of his comrade's painful groans filled the thick air within.
He strode to the end of the wooden gangway that stretched out from the mouth of the tent and took a deep lungful of air, expelling it into a large gust of condensation. He was desperate for a cigarette, anything to get the smell from under his nose and to calm his nerves after what had been the most horrific day of his war so far. He fumbled with cold fingers the matches in the breast pocket of his uniform and drew out the cigarette he had procured from one of the other soldiers. Cupping his hands around the lit match, he placed it to the end of the cigarette and took a long drag, listening to the embers burn down as he did so.
He didn't really know why he was still here. He had not been nearly as badly injured as some of his mates. The cut to his head had made the impression that it was as bad as it looked. The wound in his hairline had bled down his face and he had looked in a hell of a mess but after being cleaned up it turned out to be a knick no bigger than his thumbnail and nothing more. He thinks the doctor had taken pity on him after hearing the events of the day and granted him a reprieve from being sent straight back out to the front, if only for the night. 'Some reprieve', he thought as he looked back at the tent.
He stood there many minutes in the fading light of the day. Night was descending quickly as it did at this time of the year in this part of the world. He had been witness to it last year too. He was suddenly roused out of his thoughts by a movement a couple of tents along the line to his left. Much like he had only minutes ago, he saw one of the nurses make a hasty retreat. He could tell from the way she carried herself that she was as dog tired as he was, both physically and emotionally.
He only saw her from a distance, too far really to make out any determining features with the little light left in the day. He could see her white nurse uniform was stained with blood. He watched her as she reached the end of the gangway and contemplate where to go next. She looked back at the tent and he saw the resolve in her win the battle in her mind that was otherwise screaming at her to run, run anywhere but here. She drew her hands to her hips and much like Jack had earlier, began to draw in deep lungfuls of the frigid December air, steeling herself for the return to the place her body was telling her to flee.
Jack watched her intermittently as she stood there gathering her thoughts, and he guessed, her courage, to walk back into the tent behind her. He watched the rise and fall of her chest as she drew in deep calming breaths. He watched until his polite upbringing and propriety told him he should not be staring at the poor girl who obviously thought herself alone. Something told him that she would not have allowed herself to look so vulnerable if she knew she was being watched. His eyes however, were time and again drawn to her, to her small frame. 'She needs feeding up', he thought to himself before once again chastising himself for noticing her in such a way.
He felt the first flakes of snow before he saw them. Lifting his head up to the ever darkening sky to the heavy clouds above he took another drag of his cigarette and upon releasing it felt himself smile as the snow began to fall in ever increasing volume. The thought that the snow would soon cover the muck and filth of their surroundings and beyond to the battlefield, for which he was destined, filled him with a strange sense of peace. The ugly scars upon the earth left by human nature would lie covered and in their place a clean brand new world, however briefly.
He looked again over to the nurse as he was sure that the heavy snow would draw her back inside; he was surprised to realise that this disappointed him somewhat. When he looked over however, his fears were assuaged. There she stood, face to the sky, her elbows bent at her waist and her palms turned upwards as the first snow of the winter fell upon her.
She caught the snow on palm and cheek, he thought he saw a smile on her face as she opened her mouth and began to catch the falling droplet on her tongue. His touch starved body gave more than a passing thought to striding over to her to ask her to demonstrate how it tasted; to taste the cool drops from the warm slide of her tongue. However, guilt was never very far away from Jacks thoughts and he again berated himself and thought of his poor bride at home on the other side of the world no doubt not having these kinds of carnal thoughts about another man while he was away...But there was no harm in looking, the devil on his shoulder suggested.
Yes, for now, for now, he would take small pleasures where he could find them. In the middle of hell he would allow himself to watch an angel perform her own baptism. He would witness her drink holy water direct from the heavens and he would ask the god he no longer believed in to watch over this young stranger.