If Jack were to be honest, this was not how he imagined sharing a bed with Phryne Fisher for the first time. He had in fact imagined a number of scenarios, had since the kiss they shared in the middle of that French restaurant and the level of flirtation steadily increased. Suggestions of 'one gaudy night' almost haunted his sleeping hours on a regular basis. He had settled in on the right side of the bed, wearing a pair of blue pajama pants and a white undershirt, waiting for his bedfellow to emerge from the bathroom.

"Mind on the job, Jack." He whispered to himself, reaching for the book he had set on the nightstand while unpacking.

"Anything interesting?" Came Phryne's voice as she fluttered back into the room, hanging her dress from the evening in the closet before taking a hairbrush she had forgotten in her suitcase.

"Interesting?" Jack repeated, his gaze quickly drawn to her cream colored nightgown, visible beneath her red and black silk robe. She smiled, her lips bare of their usual crimson paint, running the brush through her black hair.

"Your book. An interesting topic?"

"Uh… yes, interrogation methods. It's a new theory on conducting a more thorough interrogation."

"By Dr. Green?" She questioned.

"Yes."

"I just finished it myself. You'll have to let me know when you've finished, I'm interested in your opinion."

"Marvelous, we'll form the City South book club." He quipped, trying to ignore her as the silk robe fell from her shoulders.

"I'll have Dot pack a basket lunch for the meeting." She laughed, climbing into bed next to him. "What is slated for tomorrow?"

"A late breakfast."

"Late?"

"We are a couple on their honeymoon, would be suspicious if we were up before the sun."

"True. Will you be reading for a while?"

"I was going to, the light doesn't bother you does it?"

"Not at all. I'm a rather sound sleeper." Phryne shrugged, settling down into the pillows, resting on her stomach and turning her head to the side. "Good night, Jack."

"Good night, Miss Fisher."

"Phryne." She corrected.

"Good night, Phryne."

The room lapsed into silence for the next hour or so, Jack making his way through a few chapters of his book. It was common for him to stay late working, he was there after normal hours almost every night. To find himself suddenly without paperwork to go over and a bit of free time was rather unsettling, it was as though he had forgotten how to relax. Glancing over at Phryne he began to consider how the woman lived her life. Not a wasted day among the calendar. Suddenly he had a rather unexpected flash of what life might be like if this all were real… if he could glance over every night and see the raven haired beauty lying next to him.

"Mind on the job." He reminded himself again, it was clear this would be his mantra for the week.

Turning off the light and putting his book aside, Jack shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable way to sleep without brushing his bedmate. It seemed that only a moment had passed after he closed his eyes before he heard a moan come from beside him. At first he smirked, considering what she may be dreaming about. Even turning heads in her dreams. Then the sound continued and began to sound more pained than pleasurable. He debated with himself over waking her, only to have the choice made for him when a scream of horror escaped her lips.

"Phryne… Phryne, wake up." He coaxed, gentling laying a hand on her bare shoulder. She had tossed and turned a bit in her nightmare, a thin sheen of sweat covered her warm skin. "Phryne…"

"No!" She gasped, shooting straight up and staring ahead blankly for a moment.

"Phryne?" He asked carefully. She turned to look at him, suddenly remembering where they were.

"Fine. I'm fine." Was her breathless reply, her hand sweeping across her forehead to push the now wet bangs away.

"You aren't. I'll get you some water." He offered, getting out of bed and disappearing into the bathroom. Returning he handed her a glass and then produced a cold washcloth. "Lean forward."

She did as he directed, sighing in relief at the cool material against the back of her neck.

"You must be terribly curious." Phryne observed, sipping at the water slowly.

"The amount of time I've spent wondering what goes on in that head of yours, I never gave much thought to what it comes up with while you sleep." He confessed, remaining seated on the edge of her side of the bed.

"Occasionally I have marvelous dreams."

"As do we all."

"Other times it's the war." She admitted in a soft tone, glancing up to gauge his reaction. Jack nodded sadly, looking away for a moment.

"As do we all." He whispered, his hand finding hers on top of the bed sheets.

"Tonight was Foyle."

"He's dead, Phryne."

"I know that. I know, doesn't stop the occasional nightmare."

"I had a few after… after it all."

"You did?"

"I was locked in with Jane and couldn't get out… I couldn't get to you in time."

"You got to me in time." She assured him, squeezing his hand. "Perhaps we should get some sleep."

"Yes." He nodded, taking her glass and putting it on the nightstand, then the washcloth next to it. Returning to his side of the bed, Jack turned the light off and slid in beside her. For a long moment the pair lay side by side, quietly contemplating their situation, before Phryne moved. Without a word she crossed the invisible line between them and rested her head on his shoulder while draping her arm across his stomach. Not missing a beat, Jack's left arm curled around her, relishing the warmth of another body. It had been some time since he shared a bed with a woman, the divorce had left his bed decidedly cold and the option of working left hours guaranteed the state of things.

"Night." She whispered softly.

"Night, Phryne."