Touching Phryne

Thank you for your reviews and words of encouragement. Work has been brutal the last several weeks and my younger daughter graduated from college and moved to a new city so I have been busy with her as well. Hope this isn't too garbled.

Chapter 4: Jack and Phryne Feed Their Hunger

Jack

Jack receives the news that there is a new crime scene with stoic resignation. His disappointment barely masked he dials Miss Fisher's number. When Dot answers the phone he gives her the news in a business-like clipped tone.

The crime scene is bloody. One victim dead and the other near death and transported to the hospital. The killer, clearly in a hurry left a footprint and murder weapon behind. "Tsk, tsk," he hears Miss Fisher's approach. "This one wants us to catch him it seems."

"Why do you say "he" if I may ask Miss Fisher?" Jack's throaty growl reaches her from his position beside the body as he smiles to himself. He agrees with her assessment, but he always enjoys hearing her theories.

"For one thing Inspector, women do not like a mess – at least most of the time, and if that footprint belongs to a woman, she is a giantess."

"As it happens Miss Fisher, I agree with you. Let's focus on male suspects for now."

Phryne nods and they begin working to find the truth. It is around Midnight when they finally wrap up the case with a confession from the gardener who was involved with the victim's wife and went into a jealous rage. The wife will recover from the wounds he inflicted on her, but it will take some time as her blood loss is significant.

Jack glances at the clock, steeling himself against the disappointment of knowing the evening is ruined for their more intimate setting. Straightening his shoulders and shaking off his weariness and desires, he escorts Phryne to the Hispano. "Phryne, I am sorry that we are unable to keep our dinner plans. Perhaps another time?" Jack's heavy voice brooks no wheedling.

Jack, expecting Phryne to be angry is surprised at her reaction. She doesn't attempt to coerce him into a nightcap. She doesn't trail her fingers along his lapels as he expects. She doesn't look into his eyes with her mischievous ones sparkling with naughtiness at seeing how far she can push him. She acquiesces far too easily for his comfort. Her, "I understand Inspector. Good night or morning as it is," not what he was expecting and Jack is immediately on alert. What does Miss Fisher have up her sleeve?

He heads home knowing sleep will be a long time coming. He wishes he could throw caution to the wind and show up on her doorstep as he had done once previously, but he rarely does and won't this night. The waltz, his reactions and near loss of control are too fresh on his mind. It is risky. "What if…what if she is just toying with him as she has the others?" He suddenly feels the weight of the world settle on his shoulders – again.

Phryne

Phryne freezes as she hears the phone ring, ears straining to catch who it is. Then Dot's voice calls out coming closer to her, "Miss, the Inspector was on the phone. He says he can't come to dinner. There's been a murder. He says you are welcome to join him at this address." She hands Phryne the address she has jotted down. Phryne stares at the address Dot's neat hand captured her mind racing.

Phryne's disappointment rolls off her in waves. For the first time that she can recall she is disappointed that a crime scene awaits their arrival. Sighing heavily she quickly puts on make-up and dresses in her favorite black crime scene outfit. All the while her mind is pondering the address. Suddenly it clicks, the address is very near Jack's home. Smiling broadly, her brow clearing, she skips down the stairs to give Mr. Butler some instructions regarding the interrupted dinner and then heads out to the crime scene her speed in the Hispano making up for the few extra minutes of plotting she took.

At the crime scene she finds Jack to be slightly distant and all business. This doesn't surprise her for Jack is really quite compartmentalized at work. He only slips on occasion and that only when she is brazen in her distraction attempts. They work together as they always do, each complementing the other's strengths, and they solve the crime rather quickly. Quickly is relative though as it ends up being Midnight before the gardener is caught and confesses.

Phryne walks with Jack to the Hispano, letting him take the lead. She wonders, although knowing him so well she believes he will send her home alone. She smirks inwardly as she hears Jack's words and the finality in his voice.

"Phryne, I am sorry that we are unable to keep our dinner plans. Perhaps another time?"

Not to be outdone be Jack's cool and seemingly calm demeanor Phryne merely listens. What is it Aunt P says he is? Oh yes, dour. That fits Jack to the tee at the moment. She idly wonders if he will ever truly let go. He came close during their waltz. She closes her eyes a moment and is swept back to the feel of his arms around her and his kiss.

She opens her eyes and speaks calmly, "I understand Inspector. Good night or morning as it is." She doesn't allow herself to stroke his lapels or straighten his tie. She plays along with what he thinks he desires. She feels him stiffen slightly and knows she needs to leave before she gives anything more away. Hopping into the Hispano she screeches away from the station at her usual breakneck pace, and she doesn't slow down until she gets close to Jack's home, parking around the block so as not to alert him to her presence and allow him to marshal his defenses.

Her body tingles slightly as she moves quietly up the street toward Jack's house, assessing to make sure whether he has arrived or not. She sees no signs of his presence which works to her advantage – she won't have to knock. Pulling her lock pick from her décolletage she sets to work, quickly gaining entrance into his home. She grabs the basket Mr. Butler packed and Cec and Bert dropped off from its location on the porch and enters the house. After she shuts and relocks the door she gets her torch out of her bag and proceeds to take a quick tour in order to determine the best location to carry out her plan.

Phryne pauses as her light captures his bedroom. It is Spartan and very neat which is not surprising. He does have a lovely impressionist painting breaking up the otherwise stark wall. His bedside table is stacked with books. She grins as she captures the authors' names in her light. There is plenty of room here for a picnic, but Jack will consider it the height of improper to eat with her at this time of night, much less in his bedroom. A slight huff escapes her. His room is much more convenient for her after dinner plans. A noise outside snaps her from her reverie and she shuts off the light just in case. She breathes a sigh of relief as it is not Jack and regretfully leaves his bedroom to focus on a picnic location Jack can't argue with immediately.

Phryne sees in her torch that there is a good amount of space in the living room which will be much more intimate than the kitchen. The room is cozy and masculine – again sparse and simple, but all Jack. She sees that the fire is laid in the fireplace and strikes a match to light it. Using its warm light to guide her, she then quickly lays out the soft picnic blanket Mr. Butler thoughtfully included on top of the basket. Then she begins pulling out the feast that will be their Midnight supper. Phryne knows Jack will be starving and won't stop at the pie cart, so this will be fun once he is over the initial shock of her invasion. She bites her lip, a moment of hesitation coming to her, but as she pulls out the bottle of wine wrapped in many cloths to keep it cool, she shakes off her momentary concern. The man needs to eat. He continually has that lean hungry look and she feels compelled to feed him up with food that will stick to his ribs and after that…whatever else he might be hungry for.

Mr. Butler packed cold chicken, fruit, grilled asparagus, bread and a delicious looking tart as well as china, silver and wine glasses. Phryne has just laid out the meal, lit a couple of candles to complement the firelight and moved the basket back against the wall when she hears Jack's familiar tread on the steps. She stealthily slips into the chair where he won't immediately see her upon entering the room, her heart speeding up slightly as she anticipates his reaction.

Jack

Jack moves slowly home after Phryne peals out of the station. He is wide awake and feeling like it was a little too easy sending Miss Fisher home this evening. He arrives home walking with his head down, the heavy weight of letting her go drowning him, and is at the door before he notices a slight flicker of light through his window. He checks his door; locked. Frowning slightly he remembers a certain set of pearl handled tools, and his mind begins working in overdrive. Pulling his gun, he prepares it for use just in case, slips off his shoes and then opens the door as quietly as he can.

Yes, there is firelight flickering in the Parlor. He moves cautiously and noiselessly gun held ready to peer around the corner into the living room. His jaw drops as he sees the picnic laid out on the floor, but sees no person. He steps closer to the room, putting his gun away. "You can come out Miss Fisher."

"Jack, I think I should be distressed that your mind immediately thinks of me in this situation. How did you know it was me?" she asks in a falsely innocent voice.

"Miss Fisher, in all my years as a police officer, my home has never been subject to break and enter, and I ask you, whom do I know to be very fond of break and enter?" Try as he might Jack can't keep his voice hard and cold.

"Ah, Jack," she says playfully now, "I know you have to be starving, and I thought we should keep our dinner plans."

Jack's eyebrows rise, "Didn't I distinctly say another time Miss Fisher?"

"You did indeed Jack, but I couldn't let you go hungry," her voice teasing and sultry with hidden promise.

Jack's Adams apple bobs as he swallows, images that he should not allow at this dangerous hour flooding his mind; his stomach chooses to rumble loudly bringing truth to her words.

"Indeed," he responds dryly. "Well then Miss Fisher, let's eat. I don't want Mr. Butler's efforts to feed me up to go to waste."

"If you will pour the wine, Jack, I will serve the food," Phryne smiles her devastating smile at him before moving to the floor to place food on plates. Jack notes that she fills his plate with some of everything except dessert and hers with a smaller portion of the same.

He removes his coat and jacket, loosens his tie and rolls up his shirtsleeves before he pours the wine. He hands Phryne a glass and they tuck into the food, focusing on it for many minutes. Jack enjoys the food immensely, and he must admit to himself anyway that he is glad Phryne is here and he isn't alone. He is also thankful to eat Mr. Butler's cooking and not the bread and butter he planned originally when he didn't stop at the pie cart.

"How did you know I wouldn't stop at the pie cart," he rumbles out between bites.

"Really Inspector, you act as if I don't know you," Phryne responds with a fond shake of her head which causes the black silky strands to swish across her face as she looks at him with eyes sparkling like sapphires in the firelight.

Jack just stares at her mesmerized, and she stares back, the heat in the room growing exponentially. He pushes his plate to the side, "Phryne," words fail him, but the desire in his gaze is unmistakable. He holds out a hand to her, inviting her closer. Jack sees her lips part slightly, her pink tongue darting out to lick them, uncertainty in her eyes.

"Are you sure Inspector?" her breathy question echoes softly in the room, the only other sound the crackling of the flames in the fireplace.

Jack isn't sure of anything, but she is extraordinarily beautiful in the firelight with the light and shadows playing across her alabaster skin, and he wants to feel her close to him; wants to feel her soft lips against his again; wants to lose himself in her; wants to feel her velvety skin. He wants… He moves toward her slightly and she comes toward him and then he is cradling her in his arms, raining delicate kisses on her face and fisting his hands in her silky hair. He groans against the skin of her neck before he captures her lips with his and kisses her like she is a most precious gift.

Jack moves them to his couch and settles Phryne in his lap. He can't get to enough of her velvety skin though; one his hands strokes gently from her face down her neck and the thumb of his other moves in rhythmic circles over the soft skin of her wrist. Tenderly he pulls her blouse from the waist band of her trousers and allows his fingers to ghost along the skin of her back. Jack feels her skin erupt in goose bumps and the slight quiver that runs through her. Stilling his hands, but keeping them splayed across her back, he kisses her again, his tongue stroking across her lips and then tickling the roof of her mouth. Deepening the kiss, Jack allows his hands to stroke her soft skin again, sweeping across her ribs to her flat stomach triggering a soft moan from Phryne who squirms against him causing her to come in contact with the very distinct evidence of his need. Shuddering Jack pushes her away slightly, breathing heavily his warm breath tickling her ear. "Phryne, I…"

"Inspector, for a man of few words, you pick the most inopportune times to become chatty."

Jack hears the tremor in her voice and pulls back slightly to look at her. He is unable to voice what he is feeling now and the blood surging through his body tells him not to be noble. He sees desire in her eyes and the flicker of something more perhaps. He wages a silent war with himself all the while gently stroking her sides. Her skin is so soft, the pads of his fingers feel as if they have a thousand nerves and each one is on fire. He pulls her firmly against himself and kisses her with purpose, his passion flaring as he holds her close and his long fingers brush up her sides and across the underside of her breasts. Her skin here is especially silky, and Jack wonders what she looks like naked in firelight. He thinks she will glow and he can't help the groan that escapes his lips to be lost in their kiss. His passion is matched by Phryne which doesn't surprise him, and more than once she just brushes him through his trousers; however, he is rapidly losing his ability to think even remotely clearly as her small hands and clever fingers continue their quest. With a monumental effort, for he thinks he can feast there for eternity, Jack releases her mouth.

"Time for dessert I think Miss Fisher," his ragged breathing sounding harsh.

He senses more than hears her sigh and she moves her hands pushing back slightly to look at him. Jack just now registers that she has managed to get her hands beneath his shirt and they are resting against the flat planes of his stomach.

"If you insist Jack," her voice clearly indicating she does not like the idea.

"I do Miss Fisher. We can't let Mr. Butler's hard work go to waste."

"Very well, Jack. You are obviously still hungry."

Jack can't disagree with her. He most definitely hungers, and not for Mr. Butler's apple tart; however, eating dessert seems to be the better part of valor at the moment. He must gather his thoughts without her distracting him with her warm hands and soft mouth.

As they eat dessert, Jack tries with little success not to look at her kiss swollen lips and her mussed clothing, thinking again about what she will look like out of her clothing. He imagines scooping her into his arms and carrying her to his bedroom. Time to make a decision Jack, he thinks and his body continues to suggest a move an even more intimate location. They are nearly done with dessert. Jack is feeling pleasantly full and just a bit flushed from the wine as well as his feverish body.

"Phryne, will you…" At the same time he hears Phryne say softly, "Jack I need to…" They both stop speaking waiting for the other to finish. Jack gestures for Phryne to complete her thought. He can tell she is marshaling her words when his phone rings. Rolling his eyes he stands and moves to answer the phone. "Jack Robinson here," he speaks into the phone, but turns to look at Phryne. She has retrieved the basket and is packing away the remnants of their meal, although she leaves the tart out. He mouths "Sorry" to her and she tilts her head in understanding, though she does roll her eyes.

"I'll be there shortly, Constable," Jack rumbles into the phone. Hanging up, he moves back to Phryne. "I am sorry Miss Fisher, but duty calls."

"Let me drop you back at the station Jack. It is on my way home," Phryne says with a wry smile.

Jack nods and proceeds to put his armor back in place as Phryne finishes the packing away and sets the tart on his kitchen table.

When they get into the foyer area, Jack tries again, "Phryne thank you for dinner. I was very hungry." He tilts her chin up so he can look into her eyes, "Still am," and with that he cradles her face with his hands and kisses her until they are both breathless again. Then opening the door they proceed out into the very early morning darkness.

Phryne

As Jack enters the house, Phryne's nerves rear up and she nearly giggles with the effort of being quiet while he sneaks into the room.

"You can come out Miss Fisher." Jack's voice has a cold edge to it. Phryne winces slightly, but she has come too far to allow him to intimidate her now.

Putting on her most innocent air Phryne responds, "Jack, I think I should be distressed that your mind immediately thinks of me in this situation. How did you know it was me?"

"Miss Fisher, in all my years as a police officer, my home has never been subject to break and enter, and I ask you, whom do I know to be very fond of break and enter?"

She can tell he is only trying to be angry now, so she responds playfully, "Ah, Jack, I know you have to be starving, and I thought we should keep our dinner plans."

She watches Jack raise his eyebrows, "Didn't I distinctly say another time Miss Fisher?"

"You did indeed Jack, but I couldn't let you go hungry," she teases with just a touch of sultry sexiness and double entendre.

She sets about putting food on their plates as Jack gets comfortable and pours the wine.

She hands him his plate and they begin eating. Phryne is content to watch Jack eat, and frankly she is hungrier herself than she anticipated.

"How did you know I wouldn't stop at the pie cart," his bass voice rumbles across the room.

Rolling her eyes internally and simpering slightly she replies in a slightly incredulous way, "Really Inspector, you act as if I don't know you," shaking her head fondly causing her hair swish across her face as she looks at him.

Jack is staring unblinkingly at her so she stares back, feeling her blood heat and her heart begin to pound. Really this man and what he does to her!

She watches wordlessly as he pushes his plate to the side, "Phryne," he says and nothing more. She continues to watch him seeing the desire in his light blue eyes dark now with his thoughts. He holds out a hand to her, inviting her closer.

Phryne gives Jack an assessing look parting her lips slightly, her pink tongue darting out to lick them, uncertainty in her eyes. "Are you sure Inspector?" she questions, voice breathier than she intended.

She sees uncertainty and desire waging war in Jack's eyes and decides that she will move toward him. She does shift her weight towards him and she notes that he has moved toward her as well. Her heart lightens a bit, and she wonders what will happen next.

Jack cradles her in his arms, raining delicate kisses on her face and fisting his hands in her silky hair. She hears him groan against the skin of her neck before he captures her lips with his and kisses her like she is a most precious gift. Phryne isn't sure she has ever been kissed with such reverence. She senses lust, yes, but there is something more. Something indefinable

She feels Jack move them to the couch and settle her in his lap. She feels the touch of his hands on her skin, his gentle stroking stoking a fire in her. To her surprise and delight Jack gently pulls her blouse from the waist band of her trousers and allows his fingers to ghost along the skin of her back. Phryne's skin erupts in goose bumps and she can't control the slight quiver that runs through her. I hope he never stops, but to her slight disappointment Jack's hands still. She wants to cry out to him to continue, but she is afraid she will scare him. He doesn't remove his hands so she relaxes a fraction and then he is kissing her again, his tongue stroking across her lips and tickling the roof of her mouth. Jack deepens the kiss, and Phryne feels his hands stroke her soft skin again, sweeping across her ribs to her flat stomach.

Phryne is unable to restrain a soft moan; the sensations are so exquisite. She squirms against him in reaction and comes in contact with the very distinct evidence of his need which is really quite enlightening. She realizes that she can size things up quite nicely and finds she is not at all disappointed. In fact, there is more than enough investigative evidence to ensure that she will be very pleased, and so much more than she was able to assess in her previous investigations. She remembers when she observed him in his swim suit at Queen's Cliff and thought he would be quite creditable. Grateful for the sunglasses hiding her eyes at the time, she had made sure she licked her ice-cream cone so that she did not accidentally give any verbal clues as to her thoughts. She is pleased to find that her observational skills are not lacking.

Feeling Jack shudder and push her away from him slightly, his warm breath tickling her ear as he pants slightly. "Phryne, I…"

"Inspector, for a man of few words, you pick the most inopportune times to become chatty." She can't help the slight tremor in her voice. She really was enjoying his attentions.

She feels Jack pull back a bit more and then he is looking at her, but he says not another word and he does continue to stroke her sides. Phryne responds to his look by allowing her emotions to well up in her. Phryne senses a crossroads as Jack pulls her firmly against him and kisses her with purpose, holding her close and using his long fingers to brush up her sides and across the underside of her breasts. When his fingers contact the sensitive skin of her breasts, Phryne closes her eyes. She hears Jack groan and her passion rises to match his. More than once she brushes him through his trousers unable to keep her fingers from assessing length and heft. She manages to untuck his shirt enough to get her hands inside it and her fingers are resting against the flat planes of his stomach, her sensitive fingers feeling the fine hair that is making its way beneath his waistband.

It is after one of her brief assessments that Jack releases her mouth. "Time for dessert I think Miss Fisher," his voice and ragged breathing harsh in her ear. Phryne releases the whisper of a sigh her voice tightly controlled, "If you insist Jack."

"I do Miss Fisher. We can't let Mr. Butler's hard work go to waste."

"Very well, Jack. You are obviously still hungry." Phryne is a bit disappointed. Her mind and body were making their way into Jack's bedroom and delighting in the discoveries to be made there. Her desire for dessert went out the window with his first kiss.

Phryne feels Jack looking at her from time to time while they eat Mr. Butler's apple tart.

She wonders what is going through his mind. She wonders about telling him of her thoughts about how she feels about him and how she thinks she has lost all reason. Finally she ventures to speak very softly "Jack I need to…" At the exact same time she hears Jack say, "Phryne, will you…"

They both stop speaking waiting for the other to finish. Jack gestures for Phryne to complete her thought. Phryne works to gather her thoughts and words; she is so seldom rendered speechless. She is silenced again with the shrill ringing of Jack's phone. Immediately Jack stands and moves to answer the phone breaking the spell of the moment. "Jack Robinson here," he speaks into the phone all business, but turns to look at her as she packs away their picnic. Phryne sees Jack mouth "Sorry" to her, and while she tilts her head in understanding, she can't resist rolling her eyes at the thought that fate intervenes again.

"I'll be there shortly, Constable," she hears Jack's deep voice rumble into the phone. "I am sorry Miss Fisher, but duty calls."

She does understand. She would prefer they not be interrupted, her curiosity to know what he meant with his, "Phryne will you…" already gnawing at her, but she does understand that his job is not predictable, nor does she want it to be. She enjoys the element of surprise and mystery that surrounds his job – the more glamorous parts. She knows the paperwork must be a real chore to fill out and she will happily leave that aspect to Jack's infinitely more capable hands. She allows her understanding to shine in her eyes and soften her voice as she smiles wryly, "Let me drop you back at the station Jack. It is on my way home." Nodding in response Jack proceeds to put his armor back in place as Phryne finishes the packing away and sets the wrapped tart on his kitchen table.

When they get into the foyer area, Jack stops her progress, "Phryne thank you for dinner. I was very hungry." She allows Jack to tilt her chin up so he can look into her eyes, "Still am," he breathes softly, his eyes darkening, and with that he is cradling her face with his hands and kissing her until they are both breathless again. Phryne relaxes against him, the knowledge that he doesn't want the evening to end brining great satisfaction. She must believe that eventually they will overcome fate.

When they stop kissing to breathe, Phryne nods at Jack and then opening the door they proceed out into the very early morning darkness; both all the more hungry for having been fed.