Something short and sweet to hold you over until I've worked out the next prompt!

Ending 8

Phryne pulled herself half up on her elbow, trying to orientate herself. Jack's bedroom. So, it hadn't been a dream. Quiet breathing sounded from the bed. She turned back towards the inspector, who also seemed awake. She wondered dimly if he suffered nightmares too.

"I dreamed Wardlow sank into the ocean," she whispered.

"Just a burst pipe, Miss Fisher," the inspector said, equally quietly. "Wardlow won't turn into Atlantis."

He smiled.

Phryne shivered, snuggling back down into the pile of pillows. He reached out and pulled the thin blanket back over her cold shoulder.

Memories came flooding back, the moment when something had dripped into her wineglass while taking dinner with Jane and Dot, drawing her eyes to the ceiling and finding it bulging with water. They'd fled the house with nothing more than the clothes on their backs, just to run into the arms of the inspector.

Phryne attempted to get comfortable, but despite Jack having piled all blankets, quilts and cushions he'd found onto the floor, she could still feel the hardness of the wooden boards against her hip and shoulder. Up on the bed, Dot snorted in her sleep, turning over. Jane sighed quietly. She wasn't used any more to annoying bed partners.

"Thank you for taking us in," she said quietly. Jack shrugged a shoulder. Moonlight played over his features and she had to resist the urge to paint it with her fingers.

"The least I could do, Miss Fisher."

He appeared content to try and go back to sleep, but Phryne felt an inner unrest now that she knew would keep her awake.

"That's not quite true. We could've gone to a hotel," she said.

A shadow crossed his face and she regretted having spoken what was on her mind.

"That would've been doubtlessly more comfortable," he admitted after a long moment.

Phryne contemplated his words for a while. For some reason a hotel appeared less tempting than sleeping on Jack's bedroom floor.

"What could possibly beat a quilt spread on the floorboards?" she quipped when she still found him watching her in silence.

"I could name a number of things."

He gave her a lopsided smile and her heart did a somersault in her chest. Mr B, lying downstairs on the sofa snored loudly and mercilessly into the romantic moment.

Jack rolled his eyes as he listened into the night.

"I hope you don't find my presence here inappropriate," he whispered after a moment. "I could not manage to find any sleep downstairs."

"Considering this is your bedroom, I can hardly ask you to leave for our benefit," Phryne said, pulling the blanket closer around herself to fend off the cold night. The fire had by now burned down to ashes and frost was creeping through the walls. It must have been close to sunrise.

Her knuckles brushed Jack's and his warmth drew her in with irresistible force. Carefully she stretched out her fingers, running them over the soft cotton of his pyjamas. His eyes were light against the darkness, watching her unblinking. His features remained unreadable, but after a long moment he lifted his blanket, wrapping it over hers and pulling her close. As she snuggled against his warm chest Phryne knew that neither of them would ever mention this night again. But somehow, as she slipped back to sleep, tightly curled into Jack's arms, it didn't matter at all.