Opening his eyes, Jack registered that this was not his own ceiling. Feeling for any signs of familiarity with his fingers, he figured out that this was not his own bed, or his own sheets. He groaned softly and turned over. He had a slight headache. Even though he had never been here before, he realised that this could only be Miss Fisher's room. The morning light merrily tripped through the curtains and poured teasingly over the frothy ornate décor and he was aware of an element of pink. He stretched and yawned. A flicker of movement from the corner of the room caught his eye. He froze. Shut his eyes for a minute and cautiously opened one, hoping to just be in a hallucinatory state. No such luck. He sighed with exasperation.

He turned his attention to the bathtub and the familiar figure in it. Speak of the devil herself, there she was, relaxing in the bathtub. Just the kind of thing she'd do while someone was sleeping her bed. He cast his mind back and shot up in alarm. They hadn't, had they? He checked under the covers, with a cold rush of relief he saw that he was wearing pyjamas. An unfamiliar pair of pyjamas. A brand new pair of pyjamas. He had a feeling that most of Phryne's male guests didn't require night attire. He stared at her for a while; hair ruffled and wet, leaning back with her arms outstretched with her eyes closed, she seemed to be sleeping. An odd place to sleep, he mused, pulling a wry face. Unaware that she was awake, she broke the silence by quietly giggling. He jumped.

'Miss Fisher?'

She turned her head and observed him.

'Hello Jack.'

He wasn't sure how to respond to that. In his world, people did not sit around in casual conversation half dressed. He should be a bit more tense considering the situation but as unsettling as Phryne could be, she also perversely put him at ease. He got straight to the point.

'What am I doing in your bed?'

She laughed and enlightened him with an explanation that made sense to his still throbbing head. The alcohol, the nerve tonic, the bang to the head from the man he thought was a rival for Phryne's affections. He still couldn't believe it was her father. He felt like an awful fool and she knew it. She had the chance to take advantage of him and she played the gentleman, the way he most certainly would have done. Damn that woman and her smug mischievousness.

'So you see, the only choice was to make you comfortable. Which we did.' She looked at him through her long lashes. He was disconcerted by the idea that she'd seen any part of him normally covered by his three piece suit. Ok she had seen him in his bathing costume for a few minutes but that was different. He was on police duty. He was sure that was different. Wasn't it?

'Why is the bathtub in use at this moment in time?' He asked delicately.

She stifled her grin at his phrasing. 'Well it can be put to your use if you want. I assume you'll want a bath soon. I'll ask Mr Butler to fetch more hot water soon. I've only been soaking for five minutes.'

He tried not to think of her dropping her clothes and getting mermaid wet. He instead focussed on the hope that she hadn't been there all this time. She confirmed otherwise by telling him that she'd been keeping an eye on him all night, sitting up and dozing on the elaborate chaise longue. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or annoyed. She leaned on her arms and wordlessly invited him in. He didn't know if she came with the bathtub or not but he was suddenly filled with curiosity. She sensed it and chivalrously offered to give up her bath for him. He hesitated and she waited, arms braced on the edge. He would like the option to have a relaxed hot bath, an unorthodox luxury as it seemed to him in the morning but he didn't know whether it should be in the presence of Miss Fisher. At her urging, he got up at that point and availed himself of the other facilities while he thought about it, in a private room down the hall with spare supplies no less. This truly was a house of wonders. He had made himself not think of how many other men had been there before him and quickly went through his ablutions. She had relaxed back into the bath by the time he had returned, fully prepared to refuse her generous offer. If anyone had asked him a year ago if he would be tempted by a naked lady in a bath, he would have said no. But his resolve weakened when he saw her, that effervescent magnet he couldn't help being irresistibly drawn to. He hesitated again and she took pity on him. She didn't want to drive him mad with indecision, battling between head and heart. For she knew now that was what it was. Last night had made that very clear. She had no wish to push him on the matter now that she knew the full extent of his hidden passion. From now on she had to tread carefully. She smiled reassuringly.

'Alright, turn around Jack. I'll get out now. Let's not waste the hot water.'

He agreed. He did turn around while she prepared to get out of the bath. But he cheated and took a brief peek behind him. He then realised how she could see him. There was a mirror opposite. That was handy. Especially to observe her alabaster back. She was taking her time and hadn't yet risen out from the tub. He hesitated once more and then made his decision. Turning around and striding over, he murmured in her ear 'just a minute Miss Fisher.'

'Happy to' she purred.

She didn't look up or turn around which he was grateful for. He didn't know why he was committing to this but he leisurely slipped off his pyjamas and under garments and slid into the warm tub with one leg on either side of her, drawing her back and feeling the satisfaction of making her squeak with surprise. That didn't last long. Smiling coquettishly, she rested her hands on his thighs, leaving scorching marks on his skin that only he could feel. He put his arms around her and felt her melt into him. Watching her in the mirror, she looked serene and at ease which didn't surprise him. He didn't want to know how many men she'd done this with but the evil serpent of jealousy didn't wind around his heart as he expected, this time. She had made it clear that she didn't make a habit of comparing no man to another, they were all equal in their merits. He just hoped that she had a higher opinion of him above all of them. Snuggling his head in the crook of her shoulder, he risked a tiny kiss onto the damp jasmine scented skin. He felt, rather than saw her smile.

They stayed there in companionable silence until the water went cold.