Hello! Thank you for stopping by to read my story. This little AU journey is set somewhere between Season (Series) 2, episodes 11 and 12. Just another excuse to explore what might have been between our two favorite detectives.
I will admit now that this is probably not my best work, and for that, I apologize, especially to my new readers. While I've been writing fics for several years, I've only just ventured into this wonderful MFMM fandom. I hope you won't hold it against me.
2018 was not a stellar year for me. I watched my mother lose her health battle and in July, she passed away one day before her and my dad's 58th wedding anniversary. Unfortunately, I've been watching my dad wither away steadily, and although he spoke of future plans involving vacations and making new memories, a car accident in November proved detrimental to his health and he passed away on December 23.
For the first time years, we were ringing in the new year without my parents… I caved myself in, watched replays of old Thin Man movies, and tried to occupy my mind with something other than the empty loss I've been experiencing. Out of that hibernation, this tale was born. Forgive me if it sucks and please give me another chance when I post again. I wish you all the very best for 2019.
Disclaimer: As is the case with all my fics, I own nothing except the story idea that percolated inside my brain while on a steady dose of caffeine and antidepressants.
They'd been fighting.
All. Day. Long…..
Arguing, disagreeing… snarling...
From the moment she fluttered, without invitation, into his office that morning, interrupting a rather critical meeting with the Commissioner, they'd been at each other's throats. Jack had promptly escorted her out, spinning her into an about-face with a firm hand on her elbow and a growl through clenched teeth before closing the door solidly, despite her flaring eyes and appalled objections.
She waited in the station lobby, pacing impatiently, and yelling at each and every constable who dared interrupt her agitated rants with feeble offers of tea or biscuits. Once the Commissioner exited Jack's office, throwing her a glare of disapproval as he brushed past her, she barged in without preamble and started giving the Detective Inspector a sharp tongue lashing for his earlier audacity.
After their not-so-private row, which was interrupted by an untimely incoming phone call reporting a crime, neither had been willing to budge; their pride and fierce stubborn streaks overruled any sense of reason or logic. In the end, she'd stormed away from the early afternoon crime scene and peeled away in the Hispano. Any of the unfortunate officers who'd been foolish enough to stand within twenty feet of the back end of her car found himself pelted with stones and road rubble kicked up by it's tires in her wake.
Hugh remained dutifully beside, if slightly behind, his boss, slack-jawed and scared to voice an opinion that might favor either side, no longer pretending to take notes about his observations of the surrounding area. As fellow constables began to gingerly tiptoe, giving the Senior Detective Inspector a wide berth, the junior officer finally snapped out of his speechless stupor and began scribbling in his notebook. He wrote down as much as he could remember about both the inspector's points of view and Miss Fisher's drastically differing interpretations and suspicions about the crime. When push came to shove, he knew that one of them would most certainly cave, seeing the truth in the reigning facts, and he hoped he could capture as much as possible to help fill in any gaps. In his limited experience, when his mentor and the lady detective bickered, the clues resulting in a successful conclusion were often found somewhere between the two opinions, in that elusive, gray-area of which neither liked to acknowledge the existence.
He'd never witnessed them argue quite like this, though… It was as if they suddenly hated each other, which seemed highly unlikely. Based on his silent observations, and those of his sweetheart, Dottie, there was little doubt that Jack Robinson and Phryne Fisher were in love with each other. It was so obvious to people around them, it would make a lot of lives easier if only they would open their pig-headed eyes to see the truth for themselves.
Unfortunately, however, the young man knew he was in for a rough afternoon. Dealing with the inspector's typical moodiness was one thing, but knowing he'd be facing Jack Robinson's worse-than-normal temper once they were back at the station made Collins wish he could hide in the gymnasium locker room for the remainder of his shift.
~MFMM~
Days would pass. Jack and Phryne did not investigate together, did not eat together and they most certainly did not share nightcaps while tossing around ideas of possible suspects, and motives, and theories... When Phryne thought of something that might be of use, or uncovered a bit of evidence that might well be a key piece of the puzzle, it was packaged, entrusted to Dorothy, who would then deliver it to Hugh with whatever explanation necessary to the be passed on to the Senior Inspector. In return, when Jack hit a roadblock, he would pace the floor of his office, ranting about possible directions or misleads, knowing the notes that were going into Hugh's book would make their way back to Miss Fisher before the evening was over, and Hugh would miraculously have a viable solution or suggestion for him by the following morning...
And so, it continued like this for well over a week, nearly into a fortnight. When word of another heist made it to Jack's desk by way of an anonymous citizen, he could hardly believe his luck.
Pieces suddenly fell into place from the most obscure bits of investigative uncovering. Reading the tip, he realized the robbery job was quite probably going down that very night, and an indication of extreme violence put his experience-driven hunches into overdrive. Rifling through seemingly endless notes, he realized the extent of the impending crime reached far beyond his little corner of South Melbourne, and he quickly made some calls, starting with Russell Street.
Organizing a team, he doled out orders to his subordinates, instructing them to hold their fire unless fired upon, and to watch their backs and those of their fellow officers. The situation was dire, there was no easy way of putting it, and the possibility of loss of life that evening was disturbingly high. As he finished laying out the plans, he dismissed the men to suit up and arm themselves, before turning back into his office to make one final phone call.
He was hanging up the phone just as his office door burst open without warning.
"Jack!" Phryne rushed in, breathless and flushed.
"Go home, Miss Fisher." He pushed to his feet, unbuttoning his suit jacket to place his pistol into its inner pocket.
"But Jack, something is going to happen," she didn't seem to notice the gun or his expression as she plowed forward. "I was going over the evidence at home, reviewing the notes, re-reading the reports if the robberies at Adelaide, Sydney, Brisbane and even as far as Bourke…"
"Go home, Miss Fisher," Jack cut her off, stepping closer.
"But I think it's going to happen again, Jack! It seems to be happening whenever ships from-"
He closed the distance between them, invading her personal space, growling his response. "Don't you think I know? Don't you think I figured it out?" His angry glare met her eyes and softened immediately. "I need you to go home, Miss Fisher. And… I need you to stay well away from the docks…"
She turned her head and glanced behind her, out through his open office door at the assembly of officers, young constables as well as older, seasoned inspectors, all subordinates to Jack. They were milling nervously, speaking in hushed tones and reassuring one another with hesitant, false bravado. She swung her eyes back to Jack and saw the resolve in his gray-blue irises, knowing he understood the score all too well.
"There's a high probability that bombs will be used, Jack," her hand flew to his chest without permission, as if her touch alone would be enough to keep him there, to keep him safe.
"I'm well aware, Miss Fisher."
"But, you don't have an explosives expert here. You need an explosives expert," she started to feel frantic, her heart clenching in her chest.
"I just got off the phone with Russell Street again," he said quietly. "There are two assigned to that station. They have both been dispatched," he said and he saw her visibly relax. He couldn't, however lie to her, even by omission. Licking his lips, he inhaled slowly and chanced a glance to his men before looking back at her. "They've been dispatched to other targets already."
"What?!" She clenched his tie in her hand by sheer reflex. "Jack!"
"It appears there are several crime cells involved, Miss Fisher, and they plan coordinated attacks on multiple ports, on the same night…" He was quiet, suddenly tender… His hand instinctively found its way to her hip, palming it gently as he mindlessly pulled her closer.
"But, Jack..." She struggled to find words. "Without someone trained specifically in munitions…" As if they were drawn by an unseen force, her eyes swiveled to his desk, where reference diagrams were scattered, and she actually felt faint. The pages were filled with images and directives on various bombs, different setups and disarming techniques. Her blues stuck to the mess of papers, she felt her breath hitch.
"No, Jack." She trembled. "There has to be someone else. There must be another option…" Looking back at him again, she didn't even try to stop the tears from falling when she saw his resolve grow even more serious. She was speechless, nothing more than 'no' falling repeatedly in whispers from her lips.
"There is no one else, Phryne," he assured her quietly. "The next closest trained experts are up in Darwin and over in Perth. Even if they drove at your speeds," he tried to soften the blow with humor, "they'd never make it here in time."
"Then I'll get in a plane and fly to get one!" She stepped in even more, her empty hand coming to clutch his jacket at his waist. "I'll fly someone back here, Jack…"
"I'm sorry we argued, Phryne." He said simply. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't do that," she said fiercely, the side of her fist hitting his chest lightly as she fought not to cry. "Don't say it…"
He reached up and wrapped his hand around her head, angling her tenderly, kissing her deeply. He was trying to convey all the things he couldn't verbalize, wishing he hadn't pushed her away so often. Ignoring the sudden silence that filled the outer office, just outside his still-wide-open-door, he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers.
"Phryne, go home," he pleaded, his voice raw.
"I'm coming with you."
"No." He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear. "I won't be able to think clearly if you're there, Love." Oh, how he wished he'd had the chance to call her Love more often … how he wished he'd taken the plunge, said to hell with propriety and taken her to his bed… He'd have been in heaven to learn all the things that made her squeal and squirm…. What he wouldn't give to watch her fall apart beneath him, for him, all around him…
"But, Jack.."
"I need to know you are safe at home, with Mr. B and with Miss Williams. You need to be there for Miss Williams. She will depend on you should something happen to Hugh. She'll need a pillar of strength, like you always are.."
"But how will we-"
"Stay there, Phryne. Stay at Wardlow with Miss Williams until Hugh comes for her after all this is over… or until you hear otherwise…" His own tear shamelessly trailed down his cheek.
"J—Jack," she choked out. "Don't do this… and what about," she swallowed her words, afraid to say them. "If you…"
"If something happens to me, they know to inform you."
"Who?!" Her eyes were panicked, her heart practically breaking through her rib cage. "How will I know what's going on!? I need to be there to-"
He cut her off, his mouth covering hers firmly, completely… Possessive, but loving… She had never in her life been kissed like that. It was a kiss of unspoken love, a kiss full of regret and sorrow.
It was a kiss goodbye.
When he pulled back again, his thumb quickly took the place of his lips and held hers together to stop the words he knew she wanted to say.
"Promise me you'll go home where it's safe, where I know you'll be out of harm's way. It will let me concentrate, and I know Hugh will appreciate you being there as well, watching over Dot…" Before he moved his thumb, he searched her watery eyes. "I know you love to defy my requests, Phryne… Please do this one thing for me… And tell Dorothy that I'll do my best to keep Hugh safe."
Biting back a sob, she nodded and gripped his tie. When he loosened her lips she rolled the bottom one between her teeth before finding her voice. "Only if you promise to come home to me, Jack…" She cried. "You have to promise to come to me as soon as you're done."
He knew the danger he was walking into, and he didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep. Not wanting to lie to her, he said the only thing he could.
"I will do my very best," he hoped the doubt of his own well-being didn't show on his eyes, but suspected she knew anyway. "Now, go. Please. I need to brush up on these notes until the Commissioner calls…" He bobbed his head towards the explosive texts just as the telephones rang throughout the station. Listening to the one-sided conversation from Hugh, Jack knew his time was up. With a slight shrug of his shoulder, he tried to smile. "I'll study on the way…"
"Sir!" Hugh called on from the counter. "That was Deputy Commissioner Sanderson, Sir. He says we are to leave at once. He is accompanying a team from City Central and is also dispatching a team from City East."
"To the motor cars, men," Jack called out, still looking at Phryne. "Hugh, you're with me, you're driving."
"Yes sir!" His favorite Junior Constable turned and started outside, following the mob of officers already flowing out the door.
She kissed him again as he pulled back, kissing him hard while swallowing another sob.
With a final sweep of his fingers against her soft cheek, he smiled sadly. "You've always held my heart, Miss Fisher…" He rubbed her nose with his. "From that very first time you barged into my case and therefore into my life. And I've never felt more alive."
He stole one last kiss and turned quickly, sweeping the scattered pages from his desktop into his fist and grabbing his hat and long coat from the rack by the door. Calling out without looking back, he made his way to the door. "Go home to Miss Williams, now, Miss Fisher."
Before she could even reply, he was gone.
Jack Robinson was gone from the office, from the station and, to her horror, quite possibly gone from her life. But if that would be his ultimate fate, she didn't dare defy him this one last request, no matter how desperately she wanted to follow…. She sucked in a deep breath, gathering her courage as she heard the squeal of motor car tires and police sirens speeding away. Nodding wordlessly at the young, wide-eyed man left behind the counter to man the station, she made her way out to her Hispano, resolved to go home and be with Dorothy, not even certain that Hugh had the opportunity to call and warn her of the dangerous mission he'd been tasked to complete.
~MFMM~
Mr. Butler moved quietly through the parlor, refilling the tumblers with strong whiskey, reassuring Dorothy it was, of course, for medicinal purposes. More than an hour had passed since Phryne arrived home from City South Station, when she coaxed Dot from the solitude of the girl's bedroom where she'd been crying into her pillow since receiving the call from Hugh letting her know why he wouldn't be around for dinner that evening.
Dot was leaning against her heroic Miss Phryne, feeling numb, staring unseeing at the bookshelf across the room. "What if something terrible happens, Miss?" Her words were soft, her voice shaking.
Tightening her arm around Dot's shoulder, Phryne tried to assure her. "Shh, you mustn't think the worst, Dot. Hugh is a smart man, a Constable far better than his rank depicts, even Jack recognizes that; it's the reason he pushes Hugh to do more, to accomplish more… And before they left the station, Jack promised that he would do everything he could to keep Hugh out of danger as much as possible…" Phryne refrained from mentioning the potential explosives, deciding that the young woman was frightened enough knowing her beau was heading into a volatile raid. "We just have to be patient…" She wasn't sure if she was trying to convince her Companion or herself. "They will call us when they are through, and I'm sure Hugh will come see you as soon as he can."
Dot sat straighter, turning to look at her mistress and smiled sadly. "You don't need to be brave for my benefit, Miss Phryne… I can see how concerned you are for their welfare, also…" When her employer made to refute the accusation, Dot shook her head slowly. "I appreciate your strength, I really do… but if you'll forgive me for saying so, you don't always hide your emotions as well as you might think…" She patted Phryne's knee gently.
Phryne smiled sadly, gripping her young friend's hand. "My dear Dot, you have certainly grown into quite the clever girl…"
Dorothy smiled proudly. "I was bound to pick up a clue or two, Miss Phryne… After all, I work for, and live with, a thoroughly modern woman." She chuckled and then grew serious. "You know, you didn't need to come home for me, Miss Phryne…. I am sure there is something far more exciting you'd rather be doing to take your mind off of this situation, than to waste your evening sitting with me…"
Phryne inhaled sharply and shook her head emphatically in response. "There is nowhere else I would rather be than here with you, Dot, at this very moment..." She sighed, "I have faith that our noble City South force of the Victoria Constabulary will be successful in their mission, and that Jack and Hugh will join us for a late evening snack... they are sure to be hungry after their assignment, so we will stay positive and await news."
Before Dot replied, Mr. Butler interrupted. "Pardon me," he acknowledged both ladies politely. "I've taken the liberty of preparing a light meal to hold everyone over until later. I've just set it out in the dining room. I hope this is alright, Miss - I assume you'd like to listen to the news program that Albert was able to tune into on the wireless radio."
"That's brilliant, Mr. B," she smiled, refreshed that there was an opportunity to learn about the events of the evening without having to wait for Jack to telephone.
~MFMM~
As Miss Fisher and her unconventional little family sat around the table eating the fare Mr. Butler had prepared for them, they limited their conversations in favor of hanging on every word of the broadcast. Much of the newscast was uninformative, as precious little real-time information was being obtained from the raid. After thirty minutes, just as Miss Fisher was certain they'd learn nothing, there was a breaking report.
"Officials have confirmed that the Victoria Police Constabulary, in cooperation with the NSW Police Force and SAPOL, the South Australia Police, is actively engaged in gaining control over a coordinated effort executed by various branches of an unnamed organized crime ring. Citizens are encouraged to avoid the environs and areas surrounding the docks at Port Melbourne, Port Adelaide, and Sydney Harbor. Preliminary reports of a detonated explosive has just come in on the wire from Sydney, though no word of potential casualties accompanied the update. We will continue to bring you the latest as it is made available to us."
The five occupants around the table stared at the wireless radio, speechless and shocked. Irrationality was quickly overriding common sense in Miss Fisher's mind as her thoughts swirled around her need to be down at the docks… After all, she was the Detective Inspector's partner, no matter how unofficial; even the lowest ranking officers recognized her as a force to be reckoned with and had finally ceased their ever-annoying habits of blocking her entrance to crime scenes where Jack was leading the investigations. As she started to push back from the table, Bert shook his head and tapped Cec on the shoulder to gain his attention.
"No, Miss Fisher," Bert warned, practically reading her mind as he stood opposite. "Ya can't go down there."
"I have to…"
Cec stood abruptly, also shaking his head. "No, Miss. Bert an' me'll go. We'll bring back word. But you must stay here…"
Phryne tried to organize her thoughts, tried to remain calm, but was quickly failing. "No, boys. I need to go down there. They may need additional medical help… I was a wartime ambulance driver and nurse…. I can help." She started to turn away.
"The inspector will be ever so angry if you get injured, Miss." Cec tried to talk reason. "Let us go there first. We'll see what we can learn. If it looks like they need more help, we'll come back an' fetch ya."
An unmistakable boom echoed through the night, rattling the walls and windows… It was far in the distance, but not far enough for Phryne's liking. Moving into action, she started running upstairs, calling out behind her. "We'll compromise, lads! You can drive me down to the docks!"
Dorothy started to panic, trotting up the stairs after her. "Miss! Wait! Let Bert and Cec go alone first!"
"Oy," Bert looked at his mate. "Think we can get outta 'ere without 'er?" Then he looked at Mr. Butler. "Can you render her car immobile for the time being?"
"Go," Mr. Butler motioned to them quickly. "Yes, leave it to me…"
Rushing to the hallway, the cabbies grabbed their coats and hats, pulling them into place hastily. Before the men could make it out the front door, though, Dorothy started walking slowly down the stairs, looking guilty but triumphant.
"Miss Fisher has agreed to wait here until you return. Come back quickly, though, as soon as you know something. If you're not back in forty minutes, she is coming down there herself…"
Cec nodded his appreciation, not questioning the younger girl any further as he opened the front door. Bert paused for only the briefest of moments to step in and kiss Dot in the cheek, as he would a little sister or cousin. "Well done, Dottie. Don't know what'cha said, but whatever it was, it was brilliant."
The cabbies left the front curb with a smoke of road dust kicked up behind the car and Miss Fisher returned to her house staff after changing her clothes and donning sensible shoes. She carried a disorganized bundle of first aid supplies. "Help me prepare these items for travel, Dot. I want to be ready when they return."
Mr. Butler looked impressed and nodded solemnly at Dorothy, wondering what she'd said that convinced Miss Fisher to stay behind, but he was certainly grateful.
"Of course, Miss." The ladies rushed to the parlor and catalogued the items that might be needed if Phryne was to offer aid in addition to whatever the local medics would already be doing. Though she had no formal schooling and held no official certification, Miss Fisher had learned enough during the war that she would be able to offer assistance to superficial injuries if needed, in order to free up the trained medical staff to deal with the more urgent or life-threatening matters.
As they sat down to wait impatiently, another news broadcast came over the airwaves.
"Another report of an explosion has come in…" Listeners could hear paper ruffling as the journalist read through the report live on air. "A warehouse at Port Melbourne has suffered an explosion similar in power to the explosion we reported on up in Sydney. No additional information has been provided regarding injuries or fatalities…"
~MFMM~
Bert and Cec approached slowly, their eyes widening at the scene of chaos and commotion. The scent of extinguished fire filled the air and plumes of dark smoke billowed from the apparent bomb site. The police presence was high, the combined forces of City South, City Central and City East all represented and easily identifiable by their respective uniforms.
Scanning the crowd, the men parked the cab out of the way and started towards the familiar colors of the City South uni's. Ready to approach a familiar junior Constable named Harris, Cec caught movement from the corner of his eye and picked out a recognizable voice amidst the cacophony of sounds. Turning, he saw Hugh, looking a little worse for wear, his hair mussed and black soot speckled across his face and neck, but, they both exhaled simultaneous sighs of relief, he was alive and well.
Directing foot traffic, trying desperately to keep spectators at bay, Hugh's arms were thrown wide as he hollered instructions and reprimands at people trying to cross the police line. While he threatened to imprison anyone who defied the orders he and his colleagues gave, he knew full well that the likelihood of using manpower to incarcerate nosy people was slim, considering how many actual criminals were being rounded up for their roles in the attempted dockside heist and explosion.
"Oy! Hugh!" Bert forced his way through the crowd, shouldering men aside and being as gentle as possible while still insistent when navigating around the women. It was clear that many of the drove were more than mere onlookers - several were quite obviously sweethearts of some of the officers and wharfies, crying at being unable to locate their beaus while others were parents or other family members, men and women alike, searching the pandemonium for their sons or loved ones. "Hugh!" Bert waved his hand, trying to gain the constable's attention.
Distractedly, Hugh glanced at the familiar faces and wrinkled his brow at their presence before his attention was pulled back to a woman trying to sneak past him. "Madam! Please!" He shifted, his arms still spread as he stepped to cut off her progress. "Please, step back," his voice was firm, not at all the bashful young man that the cabbies were used to seeing. "We need everyone to stay back! Please!" He addressed the throng again. "For your own safety, and for that of our officers, stay behind the line!" Looking over at Bert and Cec again, his eyes frantically swept the area, praying that the cabbies hadn't been talked into driving Dottie and Miss Fisher down to the docks. Not seeing the ladies, he felt relieved, but needed assistance. "Mills! Walker!" He called to two of his fellow junior constables, waving them over. "Take over here!"
Following Hugh as he moved to the side, Bert and Cec wove away from the crowd and approached the officer they secretly considered a friend.
"What are you doing here?! We've been trying to keep the public observation down to a minimum." Not giving them a chance to reply, he plowed on to his most concerning question. "Tell me you didn't bring Dottie or Miss Fisher with you!"
"No," Cec shook his head. "But if we don't report back in the next twen'y minutes, Miss Fisher will be racing 'er car down here to see the situation for herself."
Bert interrupted. "Are you alright? You look a bit roughed up, mate."
"Yeah, I'm alright. The Inspector put me on the so-called shield wall, the final barrier between the public and the raid…"
Cec patted Hugh's shoulder. "That's great. He promised Miss Fisher he'd do his best to keep you safe."
When the younger man's face paled, Bert picked up on it immediately.
"Wha' about Robinson? Where's 'e at?" His eyes swept through the assembly of active officers, not seeing their dour inspector.
Hugh swallowed thickly, looking ill. "He was…" He smoothed his sweaty palms against his pant legs. "He went into the warehouse, early on… He was one of the first in…" He hemmed and hawed, finding his words.
Bert grew anxious. Chewing the nub of his cigarette, he stepping closer. "What're you sayin', Hugh?"
"He was successful in disarming the first bomb…"
Not aware that the Inspector had been the one slated to disarm any explosives, Cec interrupted. "Inspector Robinson ain't a munitions expert! Why'd he mess with a bomb?"
Hugh shook his head, glancing around, making sure that no one heard the exclamation. "He had some training in the war," he offered feebly before he leaned in. "There was no one else," he hissed. "The two experts within driving distance were dispatched to two other raids…"
"The news spoke of an explosion up in Sydney…" Cec suspected Hugh wouldn't have heard about Sydney yet.
"Well, the men who brought out the disarmed weapon said he took two more men with him deeper into the warehouse, in search of the second device…"
The men stared wordlessly at the implication, their eyes shifting to the rubble and partially-standing building.
~MFMM~
The men walked into Miss Fisher's home without knocking and without preamble. They were greeted almost immediately by Mr. Butler as the man turned the corner from the parlor, motioning them in through the open doors to where Miss Fisher and Dorothy waited.
Dorothy was on her feet instantly, rushing to them in haste. "What did you learn?"
Phryne stood slower, noting the mixture of emotions playing across her loyal cabbies' faces.
"Hugh's alright, Dottie." Bert assured her quickly.
Cec told the story. "We saw him and spoke to him. He says to tell you he will come call on you as soon as he can. The Inspector kept his word, posting Hugh in a position that would help ensure his safety…"
"Oh, thank you, boys," Dot whispered as she slumped onto the chair, a prayer of thanks and devotion spilling from her lips and she folded her hands and closed her eyes.
Phryne ran her hand across Dorothy's shoulders tenderly. "That's wonderful news, Dot." She met the girl's eyes as she finished her prayer and it seemed her companion realized they were still waiting on news about the Inspector.
Miss Fisher turned to Bert and Cec, dreading what she feared was coming. "Did…" Her voice trembled, she felt almost faint. "Did you... see Jack?"
Their eyes softened uncharacteristically, both men feeling torn about telling her what they learned. They loved their employer like family, and, they had, somewhat begrudgingly, come to respect the Senior Detective because he so obviously helped balance out their Miss Fisher's life.
"Bert?" Her pale eyes met his, only for his to lower, unable to hold her gaze. "Cec?" She looked at the other man with hope, wanting to know what they learned.
"Miss," Cec inhaled slowly. "We don't know… Hugh doesn't know…"
"How can he not know? The docks are not that big! Why didn't you look for him?!" Her agitation was obvious, she wasn't thinking clearly.
"Miss, the docks are a mess. There are coppers everywhere, mobs of people, some injured, some are being arrested…"
Phryne grabbed his jacket in an unusual move. "But where could he be!?"
"Miss," Bert got her attention. "Let's sit, so we can tell you what Hugh said…"
~MFMM~
The cab skidded to a halt, Miss Fisher opening her door before the engine was even turned off. "Miss, wait!" Cec called out to her retreating form, knowing full well that she wouldn't stop for him, her sights were already set on Hugh as he ushered a shackled, dodgy-looking character into the back of the VicPC Police Van.
"Hugh!" The Lady Detective shoved loitering pedestrians out of her way without apology. "Hugh Collins!"
Locking the back door of the van, Hugh turned, a look of surprise overtaking his expression.
"Miss Fisher!" Impulsively, he glanced around to ensure Dot was not accompanying her employer. "What are you doing here?" He boldly took hold of her bicep, gently steering her away from the motor cars. "You shouldn't be here. You should be home, please."
"Absolutely not, Hugh! The lads told me about Jack, have you found him?"
"The rescue brigade are working to locate the men trapped inside the warehouse, Miss. They even brought in police dogs to help search," he continued to usher her away from the police line, only to have her slip around him on a straight path towards the last place Jack was known to have been. "Miss Fisher!" Hugh turned and trotted after her, wondering, not for the first time, how she can be so quick when merely walking. "You can't go in there, Miss!"
"Pish-posh, Hugh! I need to help find Jack!" She was putting up a brave mask, pretending to be strong in the face of her worst nightmare. Ever since teaming up with DI Jack Robinson, her life had changed and, even though she still hadn't had any luck getting him into her bed, she couldn't imagine her existence without him. And now, just as she had finally come to terms with wanting him so much that she had all but ceased her old habits of securing random dalliances when the itch set in, he was about to be ripped from her hands…
But, ooohhh, how he had kissed her earlier that evening… Strong, sure lips that practically made her swoon if not for knowing he was facing this very dire situation. She simply couldn't accept that he may have been mortally injured…. The tears prickling the corners of her eyes betrayed her and finally broke free, running down her cheeks as she ignored Hugh's fast-approaching foot-falls and disregarded countless unknown police officers who were ordering her out of the immediate area.
Hugh finally reached her and stepped in front, stopping her progress while waving off a senior constable's attempt to interject, indicating he had the situation under control. "Please, Miss Fisher," he grabbed her, his surprisingly strong hands gripping her upper arms. "You can't be here…"
She allowed her tears to flow freely, no longer afraid to let him see. She struggled to escape his grasp. "Let me go, Hugh! I need to help!"
"No, you don't. You need to go home." He tried to physically move her, wondering, in frustration, what the consequences might be to him personally if he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. "Let us do our jobs!"
Finally looking up at him in defeat, she listlessly pushed her fists into his chest. "I need to find him, Hugh…. I need to find…" She sighed, lowering her eyes to the ground before peeking up at him again, wordlessly begging him to let her help. As she started to speak again, her gaze drifted around, barely able to see over Hugh's broad shoulders. "If I can help… I brought medical supplies… I can help the less-injured while we wait for…" Again, she couldn't see much past Hugh, but she could see enough. "Jack!" She struggled harder, in vain, to break free, but Hugh held tight.
"Miss, the team will find him…"
"Jack!" She called out, waving her arm wildly until
Hugh finally turned and looked behind him, seeing what she saw.
Pushing out of the rubble, Detective Inspector Jack Robinson stumbled from the debris, dragging with him a battered, somewhat dubious looking man. Waving aside the medic who rushed forward, he motioned behind himself with a jerk of his chin. "Two of my men are behind me, they're in more need of assistance, see to them!"
"Jack!" Phryne struggled against Hugh's hold, wanting to rush to her partner's side, noticing the wince of pain that flashed over his face when his prisoner tried to pull free.
Jack eyed the DI from City East as the officer approached. He pushed the man into his counterpart's waiting darbies. "Lock this bastard up, Johnson. He's the one who detonated the second bomb."
As Johnson manhandled the criminal roughly, dragging him towards the police van, Jack started doling out new orders to City East Constables, many of whom were in far better shape than most of his own men. Ignoring the arm that hung limply at his side, he shouted orders into the confusion, insisting that the medics see to the lads who reported up to him before focusing on himself. Turning the overall control of the scene to Johnson when the City East Chief returned, he noticed his favorite Constable in an apparent tug-o-war with a particularly angry lady detective who was using all her might to break free. With a simple, barely-noticeable nod aimed at Hugh, he watched as the younger man released his hold and turned his attention to other matters that still required tending.
"Jack!" She ran towards him at full speed, grateful she'd donned flat shoes when she changed into practical slacks and a pull-over jumper. If she was going to be helping the medics, she had wanted to be prepared. But now, her first aid kit was long forgotten back in the cab and all she could see was Jack.
"Phryne," he extended his fully functioning arm in her direction when she grew close, bracing for impact. "What are you doing here?" He spoke into her hair when she flung herself at him, and he bit back a groan of pain, welcoming it as a reminder that he'd lived. "You were instructed to wait at home, if I remember correctly…" He admonished her even though he was grateful to see her, to feel her against him.
Crying once again, this time in relief, she pulled back and held his face on her hands, studying him carefully. "Well, if you hadn't gone and gotten yourself blown up in a building, I wouldn't have felt the need to come down here…"
"I was hardly blown up," he smiled sardonically, bringing his hand to her cheek in a similar fashion to her position. When her roaming hands started to boldly take inventory of possible injuries, he cringed and pulled away when she got to his shoulder.
"Easy," he warned softly. "I believe my shoulder's been dislocated…"
"Jack!" She gasped. "And you've been waving off assistance!" She turned with the intent to flag down the next passing medic, but he caught her before she could move far.
Tugging her against him, he ignored the fact that they were still standing amidst a riotous gathering, with people mulling around and taking statements or giving reports, and he pulled her closer. Without asking permission, and without overthinking his decision, he crashed his lips to hers, covering them completely, immediately seeking entrance.
Phryne mewed at the assertive action and melted into him, allowing Jack to plunder the warm depths of her mouth as she practically purred in response. When his hand moved, cupping her throat tenderly, she knew without a doubt that he felt the same way about her as she did for him. One could easily have written off his earlier actions in his office as a last desperate attempt for a final taste of 'what might have been' in the face of the dangerous impending raid. Now, however, his kiss told her everything - his feelings, his devotion, his refusal to wait even a moment longer.
Once oxygen became paramount, they broke their kiss, their lips remained close, brushing together as they breathed. Rubbing his nose against hers, his mouth curled ever so slightly and he continued to ignore their noisy surroundings.
"I'm glad you're here, Phryne," he admitted, his voice husky, thick with desire and raw with emotion.
She reached up and cupped his jaw, searching his eyes and finding nothing more than open honesty. "Jack," she said quietly. Before she could say more, someone brushed against them, causing Jack to flinch in pain. Witnessing the obvious discomfort in her normally-strong partner launched Phryne into action.
"Right," she threaded her hand through his uninjured arm. "To the ambulance with you…"
~MFMM~
A mobile medic center had been set up on the edge of the docks, treating minor injuries on the spot while more dire emergencies were sent off to hospital after a quick going-over. By the time Jack was seated for a cursory examination, the two officers who'd accompanied him deeper into the warehouse to locate the second explosive, for whom Jack had waved off the initial offers of medical attention, had both already been loaded into a hospital wagon and were well on their way to the Melbourne South Hospital. The doctor eyed Jack and proceeded to ask the necessary questions to ascertain the seriousness of the DI's injuries.
"Well, you seem to be handling it well," Dr. Hawthorne said after Jack supplied his self-diagnosis.
Jack nodded at the older man solemnly. "I've had one before… in the war…"
Hawthorne understood, having gained more experience in the trenches than he would have liked. "Well," he eyed Phryne sideways then looked back to Jack. "Let's have a look, shall we, mate?" He reached forward and started to unbutton Jack's shirt. "You want more privacy?" He asked quietly, jerking his head sideways towards the woman at Jack's side. He had never met the Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher, but her reputation preceded her and he wasn't sure of the Inspector's relationship.
Looking up from his seat and meeting her worried eyes, Jack shook his head. "No, Miss Fisher can stay."
"I was an ambulance driver during the war," she offered, feeling a sense of disapproval from the doctor. Reaching down to unbuckle Jack's cufflinks, she hoped that he didn't see the tremble in her hands. "And I learned a lot about treating injuries in field hospitals…" Her sentence died down and her movements stilled when Hawthorne leveled an unimpressed look at her.
"We're not at war any longer." Hawthorne said flatly, finishing his task and opening Jack's shirt to get a look at his shoulder. "And, as far as I can tell, you're no longer a medical aide, Miss Fisher, so please, give me some space." He was unapologetic at asking her to move; he had too much in his plate that evening to worry about hurting the feelings of another toff.
Reaching out with his good arm, Jack touched the back of her hand, drawing her to his side. "Let the man do his job, Phryne."
When she turned to look down at him, her breath caught in her throat. His torso bore the evidence of his wartime injuries, more than she'd expected, and she felt like crying again. When she felt his fingers tighten, she dragged her eyes away from a particular scar, the shape of which she knew all too well was the evidence that his flesh had been torn by an enemy gun, and she saw his grey eyes silently asking her to not fuss. She swallowed and shuffled back a little further, so she couldn't see the tales his body told, but she was determined to map his torso with her fingers, followed by dropping tiny kisses everywhere, just as soon as she had the opportunity. He had been shot, so very close to his heart, and she felt a wave of regret at never knowing about this part of his past.
Jack winced as Hawthorne poked and prodded, growing satisfied that the inspectors evaluation had been accurate. When he stood to his full height, towering over his seated patient, he made his suggestions.
"You can go to hospital, wait to see someone in the emergency ward to get some anesthesia before it's set. Or, seeing as how well you're handling the current pain, you might be able to tolerate it if I pop it back into place here." He shrugged. "Your call."
Jack sighed. He didn't want to go to hospital and wait half the night. He had to get back to the station and fill in his paperwork as soon as possible…. "Whiskey?"
"Fresh out, I'm afraid," Hawthorne replied.
"Wait, Jack," Phryne waved to Bert and Cec, where they waited in the crowd. With a simple flick of her wrist, her employees were trotting over to her. When Bert was close enough, she helped herself to the flask that was tucked in the interior pocket of his coat. "I'll give you a whole bottle when you take he home tonight." At Bert's raised eyebrows, she promised, "the good stuff."
Jack accepted the outstretched vessel and nodded to the cabbies. "Appreciate it," he said then looked back at Hawthorne. "Alright. Let's get on..." He knocked back the contents in one long swallow, draining the contents before his brain registered the bitter taste and the familiar burn spread across his chest.
Miss Fisher stepped close once again, intending to take his hand, but he waved her off. "No," he said quietly as the doctor focused on his supplies, making ready a sling that Jack would need to use once the shoulder was back in place. Looking up into her hurt expression, he explained. "I don't want to hurt you, Phryne. If I take your hand, I might end up breaking one of your fingers when I squeeze. This is going to be quite painful…"
The doctor turned back, studying Jack for a moment. "You ready, mate?" He, himself, had experienced a dislocated shoulder once before, and he had to admire the cop's fortitude; he remembered all too well how much it hurt putting back into place.
Jack nodded, dropping the empty flask into his lap as he reached down with his good hand and gripped the edge of the chair where he sat.
"Deep breath," Hawthorne said as he positioned his hands on Jack's bare shoulder. Just as the detective inhaled, the doctor quickly aligned his hands and manipulated the shoulder, hearing the familiar pop as the ball and socket realigned.
Jack growled, clenching his teeth and gripping the wooden chair hard enough he was certain he'd leave finger indentations. "Fuuuck," he swore uncharacteristically aloud, having forgotten over the years, the worst of the pain. By the time he was done seeing stars, the doctor had shifted his arm into the sling and was giving him strict orders to keep the limb as immobile as possible, and to take the pain medication as needed.
"You can sit here for a tick and catch your breath. You're free to go when you're ready. Follow up with your doctor tomorrow, let him know if there's anything unusual going on with your arm." He turned away with nothing more than a nod at Miss Fisher, and moved onto his next patient.
~MFMM~
"You can't be serious, Jack! You can't go back to the office like this…"
"I have reports to complete, Miss Fisher…"
"But—"
"Oh, Jack!" A familiar voice interrupted their little disagreement and two pairs of surprised eyes turned towards the woman approaching. "Dear Jack," she closed in, invading his personal space in a way she hadn't done in years.
"Rosie…" Jack looked at his former wife, unclear why she would be there. Blinking slowly, he felt Phryne step back, into the shadows. "What… what are you…" His words froze on his lips as she ran her fingers across his shoulder, beneath the thin layer of shirt.
"You've been injured…" she didn't acknowledge his question, feeling inwardly proud for interjecting herself between her ex-husband and the lady detective. She had been at the docks looking for her father when she learned that he'd already returned to City Central to deal with the newspapers and radio reporters that were anxious to hear about the raid. When she was getting ready to leave, however, she heard a swell of whispers about and cheers for the DI who'd risked his own life to detonate the explosives without having too many workers nearby. When her eyes turned to scan the scene, she had spotted Miss Fisher pulling away from Hugh's grip and it only took a split second to know where she was heading. Following the line of the other woman's path, Rosie had seen Jack doling our orders while ignoring his own injuries.
Rosie hadn't expected to feel such a rush of emotion at seeing her former husband hurt, nor was she prepared for the onslaught of jealousy at seeing the kiss that took place right in plain sight for anyone to see. Not only did his disregard for propriety astonish her, but the unabashed passion with which he covered the other woman's lips left her breathless. Never in all their years of marriage did she remember being kissed like that… not when he left for the war and certainly not when he returned. It made her wonder what had happened to the Jack Robinson she knew, and muse whether or not she ever knew him at all.
"It's fine, Rosie," he brushed her hand away, using his peripheral vision to look for Miss Fisher, feeling her absence deeper than expected. "The doc says I'm to follow up with my physician tomorrow, so really, it's nothing…"
"You were inside a building when it exploded, Jack! That's not nothing!" Rosie's eyes flared as she started to reach for his head, eager to ensure he had not sustained any other injuries. "I was looking for father, but I'm glad I found you." She dropped her hands when he bent his neck to pull away, but kept talking. "Come along, I'll drive you home."
Pulling away with more force than intended, and remembering with a painful stab why he was supposed to keep his arm immobile for a while, he bit back a grimace. "I don't need a ride home, Rosie. Thank you, but you can most likely find your father back at either Russell Street or City Central. I have my own paperwork to do at the office this evening." He pushed to his feet, his movements making it necessary for her to step further away. "You shouldn't be down here, Rosie. It's still very dangerous."
Rosie eyed him like he was crazy. "You're not seriously going back to the station after this, Jack! You should be going to hospital and if not hospital, then home."
"You should go home, Rosie. I'm still on duty and have work to do." He turned and saw Phryne standing back a little ways, watching the conversation without apology but making no moves to interrupt. He didn't like the distance she'd suddenly put between them, but before he could beckon her over to his side, Rosie interjected.
"Jack, if you were close to the explosion, there is risk of concussion…"
"Rosie," he stopped her, his hand held up. He didn't know what she was angling at, but Jack Robinson knew the woman well enough to recognize an attempt at manipulation. "I've seen far worse than this in my time and you've shown far less interest or concern." He ignored her expression of surprise and actually stifled a disbelieving guffaw that she had the nerve to look insulted, but it was true and sometimes the truth hurt worse than a lie. "I assure you, I'm a grown man and certainly capable of seeing myself home when I'm through here. Now, if you'll please make your way back to your motorcar, we are endeavoring to clear the scene of uninvolved onlookers…" He extended his good arm in the direction of the car park she was most likely to have used. "Good night, Rosie."
Raising her chin defiantly, she pressed her lips together tightly lest she say something she would later come to regret. With barely a flicker of attention flashed at Miss Fisher, she met Jack's hard eyes and knew she had better take her leave. "I was only trying to help, Jack," she turned on her heel before he could reply and wove back through the throngs of gawkers still loitering.
Taking a deep breath, Jack blinked slowly and turned, finding Phryne standing where he last saw her, slightly out of the way, just inside the shadows. He approached, holding her gaze.
"You stepped away…"
"I don't want to jeopardize your job, Jack, or your reputation… despite what you might think to the contrary. Your livelihood is probably already hanging by a veritable thread just by associating with me…"
He cut her off with a possessive kiss, his arm snaking around her waist. Nipping at her lip as he pulled back, he rubbed her nose with his. "You let me worry about my name and duty, Miss Fisher… If I had desired space, I would have requested it or taken my conversation with Rosie elsewhere…"
Surprised at his declaration and demonstration, Phryne could only nod mutely.
"I would like you to go home, however, Miss Fisher." His voice was quiet, husky. "I have work to finish up and more than a few constables to check on at hospital before my evening is through…"
"Will you stop by Wardlow when you are finished?"
"It will be quite late, Miss Fisher. Considerably later than is customary or acceptable by society standards…"
"Sod the standards, Jack. I'll have Mr. B save you a warm meal. No matter the hour…"
"Phryne," he insisted, "it could be well after midnight…"
She reached up and cupped his jaw. "I will do as you ask and go home, if you will do as I ask and come have dinner when you're finally finished."
His lips tugged, his secret smile almost making itself seen. "You drive a hard bargain, Miss Fisher…" He accepted the tender kiss she placed on his cheek. "I'll see you later. If it gets to be too late, just extinguish the porch light and I will know to go home instead… And I'll see you tomorrow..."
"Tonight, Jack," she replied definitively. "When you're done…"
~MFMM~
The rest of the evening had been grueling. Jack and a few other senior detectives had dismissed many of the younger men and stayed behind to complete the lion's share of the paperwork. They received the Commissioner's blessing to take the following day off, scheduling the stations to be manned by officers who hadn't been involved with the raid, and to be relieved by those they released early. When Jack finalized the last page of his report, he rubbed his eyes roughly and glanced at the clock. A few phone calls to the emergency ward at Melbourne South Hospital had reassured him that his men were stable and, given the late hour, were in no need of a visit until morning.
He had received word that one of the junior constables from City North had succumbed to his injuries after receiving a stab wound to the gut. He was sorry for the lad's family, but he was selfishly grateful that he'd planned ahead and placed Hugh on crowd control… Jack had several junior subordinates, but he'd taken a certain shine to the naive young officer and couldn't imagine having to face Miss Williams had something unthinkable happened to Collins.
With a plan to respectfully visit the fallen officer's family in the coming days, even though he wasn't one of City South's, Jack pushed up from his chair, stretched his back and locked his desk drawers. Feeling a little concerned about going to Miss Fisher's so late, he lectured himself about keeping promises and decided to, at the very least, drive past the St. Kilda home the ensure the front porch light was turned off for the night.
As he pulled up to the curb, Jack rolled his lips between his teeth. Not only was the porch light still on, he could tell that the front parlor lamps were still blazing, as bright white light filtered onto the front yard from between the slightly parted curtains, like a beacon in the night, beckoning him onward.
His gentle rap was answered quickly, Phryne peeking around the door and motioning him inside all in one movement. Once he had relieved himself of his coat and fedora, he found himself with an armful of the Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher as she crashed forward, careful not to further injure the limb cradled in a sling.
"I was so scared, Jack…" She whispered after several seconds, sinking against his chest and relishing the feel of his arm wrapping around her waist. "It's not a feeling I enjoy," she confessed. "We could hear the explosion from here… I couldn't help but imagine the worst, Jack…"
"I'm sorry you were frightened, Miss Fisher," he answered, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, welcoming the ticklish feeling her locks incited upon his nose. When he felt her body shake, as if failing to control her sobs, he moved his hand up to cup the back of her head, keeping her close as he murmured in her ear. "Shhh," he pressed a kiss against her temple. "It's alright, Phryne," he breathed against her. "I'm alright…"
Suddenly, a torrent of emotion flooded Phryne's body and she pulled back, her eyes angry and fiery as she balled a fist and hit his sternum firmly.
"But you might not have been, Jack! You could have been killed and you knew that going in there!" Infuriated and agonized tears rolled down her cheeks and she gritted her teeth. "Don't you ever to that to me again, Jack Robinson!" She inhaled sharply, ready to continue her reprimand. "What would have happened if-"
"Phryne," he said softly, cutting her off and cupping her neck.
She stopped hitting his chest and clutched his lapel in resignation when he pulled her back into his embrace. Collapsing against his body, she nosed the side of his neck, still tugging on his suit jacket trying to pull him impossibly closer. "What if you'd been killed, Jack? What if I'd lost you before we-"
She couldn't continue, terrified of the emotional, intimate connection she felt to him, despite their professional boundaries. She was so accustomed to maintaining her independence, the modern woman didn't know what to make of the anguish that had overtaken her sense of order when she feared he'd perished in the explosion.
Arching his neck so he could see her, his large hand palmed her cheek, forcing her to look up at him. "Before we what, Phryne?"
Her expression begged him not to make her verbalize what she wanted, she bit her lip in consternation. Shaking her head ever so slightly, she tried to pull away from his gaze, but his fingers curled tenderly beneath her chin, holding her in place.
"Tell me what you want," he spoke quietly, his normally controlled voice trembling with his own feelings. "Talk to me, Phryne."
Her watery eyes searched his deep blues and she could see her sentiments shining back, and felt a surge of courage. Stretching her fingers up from where they still held his collar, she brushed the tips against the side of his neck, settling briefly against his jugular before continuing to move.
Barely finding her voice, she hardly recognized it when she finally spoke. "You, Jack… I want you."
Jack crushed his lips to hers, still cradling her jaw. He had hoped, prayed to a higher power in whose existence he didn't even really believe, that the feelings he held for his unofficial partner were not unrequited.
Jack's kiss was so powerful, so unguarded, that Phryne's knees weakened. It was as if he was pouring everything he wanted to tell her into that kiss, and all she could do was give it back to him two-fold. Releasing his lapels, she slid her hands up and over his shoulders, pressing impossibly closer as their kiss deepened naturally.
The need for oxygen became overwhelming and they parted by mere centimeters, still nipping at each other's mouths. Jack had managed to tug his arm free of the sling, defying the doctors orders knowingly, and both hands spanned Phryne's waist. He flexed his fingers, pressing them into her flesh before boldly sliding lower, cupping her bottom. With little encouragement, he continued moving one palm down until he reached her thigh, and with nothing more than a pinch, she was lifting her legs and wrapping them around his waist, literally jumping into his embrace.
Jack held her weight with his good arm as he growled, and Phryne moaned, and their mouths crashed together again. The floodgates had opened and neither was holding back. Turning in place, Jack sandwiched Phryne's slim body between his own and the front door. He could feel the heat of her core through his clothing, grinding against the straining erection making itself known without apology.
His lips followed the smooth line of her jaw when she let her head lull backwards. Finally reaching her earlobe, he bit her gently and thrust his hips forward, punctuating her gasp the split second it left her mouth.
"Phryne," he grunted. "I want you…. All of you… Everything about you…"
"Yes," she breathed, unable to string together a complete thought while his body, lean and strong, trapped her. "Oh God," she added when he started sucking on her throat, welcoming. with anticipation. the mark she suspected he was leaving behind. There was a time when she may have been frightened by the strength and skill of a man taking control the way Jack was doing…. There were aspects of his power frighteningly similar to those of René. The Lady Detective knew innately, however, that Jack would never bring harm to her. And that belief and level of trust allowed her to be vulnerable, to simply enjoy the feelings he was evoking.
"Invite me upstairs," he demanded gently, biting her tenderly. "Ask me to stay, Phryne…" He rubbed her nose with his. "For more than just one solitary, gaudy night…"
Through the tornadic fog of her emotions, she heard the meaning behind his request. She knew he was a traditional man and would most likely want a traditional arrangement…. While she had no desire to be married, she couldn't imagine a time when she would want anyone as much as she wanted Jack. She could promise him that - a monogamy that she hadn't allowed into her life since escaping the oppressive claws of the angry French artist.
Nipping at the side of his neck, she rasped out her response.
"Take me upstairs, Jack." She speared her fingers into his hair. "I want you to stay… For as long as you wish…"
Postscript A/N
So I'm not sure if this will lead to another chapter or not. I just needed to write when the muse struck me over the head.
I hope it didn't suck… there was no outline, no proper editing time…. It was just what I saw in my mind's eye as I holed myself away for New Years.
Wishing everyone a safe and healthy 2019.
peace & love, my friends.
~jazzy