Bottled Ship

Notes:

This was written for the trope challenges of 2017. This has a lotta bottle and a little bit of hurt/comfort for good measure.

How much did I drink last night? She wondered with a shiver as she fought to regain consciousness. She usually knew better than to really overdo it, but even with her eyes still shut, the room was swaying and the lights behind her eyes danced. The bed felt hard and cold instead of luxurious and warm, and her mouth was a desert.

Everything hurt.

She couldn't even remember where she'd gone last night, or if she'd left with anyone.

"Unnngghh…" an oddly familiar deep groan sounded next to her.

Oh, dear . She'd wanted to bring Jack to bed. Surely, she wouldn't have done it when she was so far gone. She had a rule about that. Well, a strong guideline. She didn't even remember seeing Jack since… when was it? She brought her leadened limbs to her eyes to rub the sleep out of them.

Everything hurt.

The faint light as she opened her eyes was was unusual. Shimmering. Watery. Where were they? The last thing she remembered was finding a cupboard full of scared young women on the Pandarus.

"Jack?"

"Nnnggh?"

"Jack, wake up!" she propped herself on an elbow, shaking his shoulder.

"Miss Fisher? What… Where… What's going on? Where are we?"

"I'm not sure. Last thing I remember, Sidney Fletcher was putting a bag over my head. You?"

Jack shuffled onto his side, facing her, wincing as he gingerly touched the back of his head. "George told me to stand down, but I came to the Pandarus anyway. When I arrived, it was clear he was involved… I… I found your lock pick," he leaned back, reaching into his trouser pocket, "Here."

"Mmm. Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he gave her a half smile, "I realized George was involved so I cuffed him to a pole."

Phryne sat up straighter, delighted, "Did you, really?"

Jack looked slightly embarrassed, "I did."

Phryne moved close to him stroking her fingers down his tie, "Then what did you do, Inspector?"

"Then I ran off looking for you…" he cleared his throat, "all… looking for all of you."

"Naturally," she purred moving closer to him.

"Perhaps we should try to figure out where we are?" he admonished, voice cracking with emotion, "I think someone knocked me over the head."

She gave him a slightly sympathetic look as she examined his head, "It doesn't seem too badly damaged... and I've already figured out where we are. We're on a boat."

He grunted annoyance, "I'd deduced that on my own, thanks."

"I don't think we're on the Pandarus. Too much sway." Phryne could make out Jack's nod in the very dim light from the two port holes on either side of them, "and this room is too narrow."

Jack looked around and then started maneuvering off the bed toward the door. He jiggled the handle, "Think you can work that pick in the dark?"

Phryne eased next to him, sinking to her knees in front of the knob, "Of course."

It took longer than usual in the darkness, but in just a few minutes they heard a CLICK and the door to stateroom opened.

A blast of late autumn air hit them. Melbourne wasn't particularly cold right now, but one look around as they exited the cabin to the aft deck of the cruisette told them they were on open water. There was nothing to stop the cold, wet wind.

It was still raining. There was a purple glow to the clouds on the horizon. They guessed that was east and the dawn, hoping they hadn't slept all through the day. It seemed a kindling and not a snuffing-out of the light.

"Let's see if we can get this thing moving," Phryne moved to the helm. She fussed about with the controls for a few minutes before opening the control panel under the wheel. They had determined they were on a Richardson Cruisette Motoryacht. Phryne guessed it was probably about 30 feet long. They'd woken in the stateroom. While Phryne was fiddling with the helm, Jack found a small galley and head.

"Damn!" Phryne called from inside the control panel. "Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!"

"Problem, Miss Fisher,"

She was now hanging off the aft of the boat, "DAMN!"

"I take it we're not going anywhere."

She sat back heavily on the deck. "No. And we aren't calling for help any time soon, either. The fuel line has been cut, but that doesn't really matter because even if we could repair it, the tanks have been punctured, and we've don't appear to have any fuel."

"Ah." Jack slumped against the side of the deck, "And the radio?"

"Ripped out."

"So, we're dead in the water."

"Unless we can figure out how to turn this motoryacht into a sailboat, I'm afraid we go where the tide takes us," She responded shivering.

Jack proffered his hand to her, "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"We need to get warm. This rain is freezing, and we don't have a heat source."

"You know Jack, at the South Pole, they recommend skin-to-skin contact."

Jack closed his eyes, collecting himself, "If we make it there, we'll have to see about that."

They made it into the stateroom as the wind and rain began to pick up. The sun was rising, but despite the early hints of dawn, there'd be no sunshine anytime soon. There was enough grey light coming through the two portholes to see around the room, but color had little meaning in this light.

Phryne climbed back onto the bed while Jack searched through the cupboards for blankets. He found several. Jack turned back to the bed to find her shaking and staring straight ahead.

"I'm not sure we need to go as far as skin-to-skin, but you should at least take your jacket off, Miss Fisher. It's soaked."

She startled at his voice, but nodded and removed the black velvet jacket and wrapped herself in one of the blankets as he shucked his overcoat.

"I… I couldn't save them," she said in a smaller voice than he'd heard from her, "I'm sorry, Jack."

Jack scoffed, "I should apologize to you. I'm... no longer useful to you, I fear."

"Jack… don't be ridiculous… you're…"

"Probably out of a job," he exhaled deeply.

Phryne opened the blanket, "It'll be warmer if we…"

Jack stared at the spot next to her, weighing his options. He wanted to wrap himself around her and never let go. He wanted to bury himself in her. Lose himself in the mystery and mystique that was Phryne Fisher. Drown in her.

It would be so easy.

"Please, Jack… I'm cold."

It was that easy.

Jack crawled next to her, gathering the blankets around them, cradling her in his arms, and pulling her close to his chest. "Better?"

He felt her nodding against his chest, "Much. Jack?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm… I'm sorry about Sanderson. I know you were close."

He gave her an involuntary squeeze, "I'm sorry too. He's a good… he was… he was a good man." Jack absently stroked Phryne's arm over the blanket, "Rosie…" he finally let out with a whisper.

Phryne turned in his arms and looked up at his face. Tears were standing in his eyes.

"She's going to need you."

"She hasn't needed me in a very long time," he protested.

Phryne reached her hand to his face, stroking his cheek, "She'll need you."

"I'm not so sure about…"

"She'll need you," she insisted.

Jack searched her eyes as her fingertips marked the contours of his face.

His voice was raw when he finally found it, "How can you know that?"

She twisted her eyebrows at him in confusion, "Because you're Jack Robinson. The man who always does the right thing. The noble thing."

She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Not always, Miss Fisher," he dipped his head to her lips cautiously at first, tentatively touching his lips to hers.

Her lips rose up to meet his, her tongue darting out to explore his welcoming mouth.

He'd never know who deepened the kiss. They were suddenly frantically kissing, hands roaming over skin and shirts and tugging and clothes that were in the way. Clumsy fingers trying to unbutton ridiculously small buttons and laughing as heads met harder than expected. Lips refusing to lose contact as they pawed and rolled over each other.

"AHOY" they heard outside the cabin.

The frantic kisses and pawing and tugging and roaming hands stopped.

"Jack! What luck!" Phryne launched herself off the bed and out of the cabin to greet their rescuers.

Jack dropped his head against the mattress in frustration.

"Yes. What luck." Jack said less enthusiastically, still from the pile of blankets on the bed.

Phryne skittered to the aft deck of the cruisette to find a Royal Australian Navy Tug off the port side with an extremely familiar face hailing her.

"Ahoy, MV Daisy Bell! HMAS Kooronga, permission to come aboard," the stranger with the familiar face asked.

"Permission granted." Phryne responded as Jack joined her on the aft deck, still tucking in his shirt.

"Mr. Butler?" Jack asked, mouth hanging open shock.

The man with Mr. Butler's face stepped with practiced ease from one vessel to the next, smiling,

"Ah, no sir. Captain Sebastian Butler at your service, sir," answering Jack's query, "Tobias radioed me when he didn't hear back from you and your mission with the Pandarus in a timely manner. Nasty business. The HMAS Moresby cut them off about five hours ago at Victory Bight. The young ladies and your friends are all safe as houses."

"So, you and my Mr. Butler are…"

"Twins, yes, Miss," Capt. Sebastian Butler seemed to be nearly as prescient as his brother, "Toby went into the army, and then fell in love and went into service. I went into the navy… and I guess I did too. The sea has always been my mistress," he said with a wink.

"I'm enormously pleased to meet you, Captain Butler," Phryne said with a smile.

"You're both welcome to come aboard if you'd like, though the space will be quite tight, I'm afraid. Or if you two would be more comfortable here, we can just tug you back to Port of Melbourne," Sebastian suggested, "I can at least provide you with a thermos of hot tea and a heater."

"That won't be necess…" Jack started.

"That would be lovely, thank you," Phryne finished.

"Get comfortable," Sebastian offered, "the voyage will take a few hours."

"Thank you, Captain Butler," she smiled at him.

Phryne took Jack by the hand, leading him back to the stateroom and closing the door behind them. Jack was in a trance. Phryne took his face in her hands, "Jack?"

He blinked at her.

"Jack? Do you regret what we were doing before we were rescued? Do you… regret kissing me?"

Jack looked into her eyes as if trying to find the next lines of his script. What was he supposed to do? He thought they were going to die out here. He was probably without a job. He'd had nothing left to lose. He wanted her more than anything, but the earlier kisses had been the kisses of desperation, not the kisses of hopeful futures.

"Regret? No. No… not at all… I... I've wanted to do that for a very long time."

"But?"

"But, what use am I to you now, Miss Fisher? Even with the Pandarus captured, unless George was fool enough to be on board, I suspect I'm out of a job."

"What use? Jack? Do you think I only want you for your police connections?"

Jack looked at her confused, "I don't have any other connections… perhaps a Mason or…"

"Jack, you darling fool," she traced his brows with her fingertips and settled her palms back on his cheeks, "Why do you do that?"

"Do what, Miss Fisher?"

"Why do you assume the least?"

"I don't understand."

"You assume the least of my affection. I may have said you're more use to me as a policeman, but it doesn't mean you're of no use to me if you aren't one… Jack, I... " she rubbed his cheekbone with her thumb, "I think we both have a lot we need to say to one another. Keeping all of those emotions… all of that passion… bottled up inside? It's not healthy."

Jack paused for a moment, "I don't know about that. I like to consider my emotions are a rare vintage. Like a fine wine."

"Jack!"

Jack smiled his crooked smile at her and leaned forward, aiming to kiss her, "Which you've just managed to uncork." he smirked.

Phryne pulled his face the rest of the distance and kissed him soundly. She grinned at him as she came up for air, "Nightcap?"