Title: Heave My Heart Into My Mouth
Rating: Let's just say Miss Fisher would approve.
Summary: Detective Inspector Jack Robinson is a man of many talents, not the least of which is his skill with Shakespeare.
Disclaimer: If I did, I'd help myself to Fisher's wardrobe.
Dedication: To CJ, who introduced me to this damn addicting show. I love everything about Miss Fisher and I love everything about you, so I think that works out nicely.
Author's Note: It's the 21st of December, Midsummer's Eve! Happy Birthday to Miss Phryne Fisher, our favorite lady detective!
The hour was late, the guests had gone home, and Jane had been tucked into bed. And yet, Phryne had not yet received a birthday present from one Detective Inspector.
This just wouldn't do.
"Should we take the rest upstairs?" Jack asked, holding up what remained of the bottle of whiskey.
"As usual, Jack," Phryne said, snagging two glasses and leading the way out of the room, "You have the best ideas."
She'd known that Jack was playful and willing to bend the rules at times, or at least find a way to skirt around them, but when they'd first started the next step in their relationship—namely, sleeping together—she'd been surprised by how carefree and indulgent he could be. But then, she was glad to have been surprised. She never wanted to stop being surprised by Jack Robinson.
"So," she asked as they climbed the stairs, "Dot informed me that you were agonizing over what to get me."
"I think 'agonizing' is a strong word," Jack replied dryly, closing the bedroom door behind them.
"Well then," Phryne set the glasses down and bounced on the edge of the bed, peeping up at him. "What did you decide?"
"It's a little hard to get something for the woman who has everything," Jack said. "But eventually I remembered that I owed you another Shakespeare recitation."
"Oh?" Phryne smiled, feeling warmth begin to gather and slip-slide down low into her belly. All of Jack was appealing but she had to admit his voice had been one of the first things to hook her in. It was low and could be smooth or gravelly by turns, and she often found herself wanting to close her eyes when he spoke so that she could better take it in.
Jack returned her smile with one of his own, those small, private smiles that were coming so easily to him these days. She relished every one.
He set the bottle down next the glasses and brushed his lips against hers. "But first, I think we're both a bit overdressed."
"That will never do." She rose to her feet, making sure their bodies slid together as she did so. "Unzip me?"
His arms wrapped around her, one hand holding her steady at her lower back while the other found the tag of the zipper and pulled it slowly down, peeling the fabric away from her body. A tiny shudder of breath was sucked in as she let the dress fall to the floor and she had to bite her lip at the sound. No matter how many times they'd done this, Jack always sucked in a tiny breath, just like that. Miss Phryne Fisher was not unduly modest. She knew that she looked, well, stunning. But it was as if at some point during the day Jack had forgotten what she looked like, or just how beautiful she was to him (though he'd said it plenty of times), and no one had ever done that before. Maybe it was because she'd never let a man stay around long enough to truly get used to her, not even Lin, but it was exhilarating—and perhaps reassuring—to know that he wasn't tired of her. That she still, even after all of this time, amazed him.
"Now you're the one who's overdressed," she said, helping him out of his jacket and tie.
"You'd better fix that," he replied, letting her unbutton and unzip until all of their clothes were in a pile on the floor. "Now, if you'll allow me…"
He took her chin in his hand and kissed her, slowly and gently. He had this way of kissing that was so deep and slow, it was like he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing it. And honestly, sometimes she wanted to spend the rest of her life letting him.
"If music be the food of love," he whispered, "Play on."
He trailed his mouth across so that he could plant a kiss just below her ear, an arm wrapping around her lower back to keep her steady and against him. "Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting," He turned her around and pressed himself up against her back, one hand cupping her breast and the other gliding down across her stomach, splayed wide. "The appetite may sicken and so die."
He recited the next line, interspersing a kiss down her neck in between each word. "That strain again! It had a dying fall."
Phryne let her head fall back against his shoulder and closed her eyes as the hand at her breast began to knead it, the thumb circling her nipple teasingly. His other hand slid even lower, his fingertips just at the edge of where she wanted them. "O, it came o'er my ear," He kissed the hollow of her throat, the slid his lips along her jawline. "Like the sweet sound…"
A single finger slid into her, and she gasped, clenching instinctively. She could feel Jack smile against her skin and she knew just what sweet sound he'd been referring to in that line. His fingers moved as slowly as his kiss, rhythmic and sensuous but sedate, calculated to drive her mad.
"That breathes upon a bank of violets, stealing and giving order." He made sure each word had his teeth and tongue scraping against her skin, along the column of her neck and shoulder. "Enough; no more."
He was two fingers in now and had found the bundle of nerves both inside and outside of her, allowing his hand to tighten slightly at her breast. Her breathing stuttered and she twisted so that she could bury her face into his neck, her hands gripping him at his wrists just to have something to hold onto.
"'Tis not so sweet now as it was before." He sucked momentarily on her earlobe. "O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou, that, notwithstanding thy capacity," He slid in a third finger and crooked them just so, allowing them to scrape along at just the right angle, making her gasp, "Recieveth as the sea, naught enters there…"
"Jack," she breathed out, her voice and ribcage shaking.
He pressed his lips to her collarbone. "Of what validity and pitch soe'er, but falls into abatement and low price even in a minute."
He moved even faster and just a little more fiercely, and Phryne had to bite down hard on her lip to keep from making noise. She wanted to hear every word, every syllable that Jack spoke.
"So full of shapes is fancy,"
So close. So, so close, and with just his voice in his ear and his hands on her body…
"This it alone is high fantastical."
She came with a shudder and a cry, muffling the latter into the crook of his neck as her body spasmed in his arms.
He helped her lie down onto the bed, the corner of his mouth turning upward as he gazed down at her. "Well, Miss Fisher?" He asked, brushing her hair out of her face and tenderly tucking it behind her ear. "What did you think of your birthday present?"
"I cannot speak so well," she quoted, "No, not half so well. But," She slid her hand down the planes of his body and between his legs, "The night isn't over yet."
Definitely a marvelous birthday present.
Jack quotes Orsino's speech from Act I, Scene One of Twelfth Night because, to quote the good Inspector himself, "You can't go wrong with it." Phryne quotes Perdita from Act IV, Scene Four of The Winter's Tale.
Completely by coincidence, this is the second birthday fic I've written in the past couple days. This is my first fic for the good ship Phrack so be sure to let me know what you think!