The clink of whiskey glasses accompanied the melodies of Jelly Roll Morton drifting through the parlor. Jack had practically raced to her house after his shift at the station, but once through the door, he couldn't decide if it was appropriate to sweep her into his arms. So he settled for the drink she pushed into his hand as he pulled off his hat.

"Here's to an evening together without old flames or guns," Jack said, tilting his glass toward Phryne.

She smiled slowly, "Whoever thought we'd drink to that?" she replied and took a sip. "Of course, we both know my little stunt was for your own good."

Jack blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Phryne tilted her head. "We both know you would have locked up an innocent man while on your recent rampage."

His brows knitted as Jack stared at the expecting look on her face, anticipating, what? An apology?

"Rampage?" he rolled the word around on his tongue. Jack set his glass gently on the fireplace mantel. "Do you think my ..." he nodded in her direction "rampage might have had anything to do with the way you flagrantly took over a police investigation – again – and showed no respect for the law or for my job?"

With a raised eyebrow, Phryne follow his lead, placing her glass next to his. Her porcelain fingers began a staccato beat on the mantle. "Well, perhaps if you had not been in such a rush to convict the first suspect you met, I might not have had to take over."

Color infused Jack's cheeks. "And perhaps, if you did not have a past … association with the suspect, then you would have been more objective in your reckless investigation."

Phryne tossed aside his remark with the wave of a hand. "Nonsense, Jack. You know I have every capability of separating the physical from the facts of a situation."

Frustration coursed through his features as Jack ran a hand over his hair. "No, I do not know, nor do I understand." His voice remained low as he struggled to hold onto his temper. "You possess no ability to separate criminal activity from non-criminal activity. In fact, you flagrantly bend the laws to your will when it suits you, and yet you are telling me you can maintain your objectivity from a man with whom you have … have…"

"Known in the biblical sense?" Phryne offered. Throwing her hands to her hips, she stared him down. "I make no apologies for how I live, Jack. But I would like to point out that if I were a man, you would be congratulating me on my exploits. And we certainly would not be having this conversation."

Leaning into her defiant glare, Jack yelled, "You are right about that, Miss Fisher, because I would never feel about a man the way I feel about you!"

Phryne froze for a moment before her fighting stance gave way. "Jack," she said with a slight smile, taking a step toward him. But Jack stepped back.

"It's no use, Phryne," he said, unable to meet her gaze. He sighed with a resignation elicited from his very depths. "I don't think less of you for your zest for life. And I don't want to judge you for living as you see fit. But I'm not built that way." He stole a glance at her questioning expression. "For someone to want to be with you, and know that it won't mean the same for you as it will for him. Well," he laughed without a trace of humor, "that might be enough to drive a man insane."

"Or cause him to yell at an old woman?" Phryne asked almost teasingly. She closed the short distance between them and placed her hand on his arm.

He looked down. "I raced after Elsie the moment you left. When I found her in the cell, I could not apologize enough." Jack looked at Phryne, then slowly shook his head. "Do you know what she said to me? 'I always liked you, Jack. So you that you better fix it up with that girl of yours before you lose sight of yourself.'" He eased his hand over the top of Phryne's as she gently squeezed his arm. Gazing into her eyes, he said simply, "I'm sorry if I lost myself for a bit."

Phryne smiled. "Oh Jack, if we start apologizing for every wrong, I'll be here all night. I must have done at least one thing to you every day since we've met. "

"At least," he said with a nod, and gave her a small smile as she nudged him in protest.

Stepping in front of him, Phryne placed a hand on his cheek. He leaned into her cool palm. "But tell me, Jack. What would it mean to you? Us, together? Because I can tell you what it would mean to me." She drew his face closer to hers, so that their foreheads touched. "It would mean taking you inside me completely. And not just in flesh." His breath staggered and his eyes closed. "I am talking about you becoming part of me. And I'm not even sure we need the physical for that, though I am sure you are magnificent in the area, Jack Robinson." He shook with gentle laughter.

Phryne placed her other hand along his chin. "You accuse me of not respecting your work, and perhaps that is true. I think the rules of society are an illusion, only set down to stave off the chaos we've both seen through war and death." She caressed his cheek, running her hand slowly into his hair. "But I also know you see those rules as the only thing that keeps chaos in its place, and that – you – I respect, Inspector. Your sense of justice is as much a part of you as the burr of your voice that reaches within me to a place I though impenetrable."

She bushed her lips along his cheek, trailing where her hand had been a moment before. "Perhaps it is selfish of me, that I should ask you not to change. But I do so want you the way you are, Jack."

Jack slid his hand along her arm, until his fingers covered her delicate ones resting in his hair. "I would so hate to disappoint you, Miss Fisher," he whispered, and drew her mouth to his. Now it was Phryne who clung to Jack, letting him taste her, drawing on an urgency she had contained for months.

He finally broke away, gasping, "Tell me this is a beginning, Phryne. Tell me this is not a memory to be locked in a box or just a moment to be remembered fondly. I no longer feel like myself without you. And the thought of not being with you .." he shook his head to chase away the feeling. "You have become so much a part of my own happiness it scares me." He kissed her lightly. "You have unclasp'd the book ever of my secret soul."

"Even Shakespeare does not do you justice, you beautiful man," Phryne whispered. She looked into his mesmerizing eyes. "Is this how forever begins, Jack? Our forever?"

Forever to abide, thought Jack, as he pulled Phryne back toward him with the word yes ghosting his lips.