ONE OF A KIND

Hope you enjoy

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Disclaimer: I own nothing, I love Jack and Phryne together and I wish, so dearly, that they would do so in the show.

. . .

The sight of Phryne drifting down the stairs had Jack swallowing dryly. He quickly recovered, but his initial reaction was not missed by either Phryne or Mr Butler.

"Jack!" Phryne exclaimed, skipping her way down the last few steps.

"Phryne," he nodded a greeting and Phryne felt happily bubbly in the fact that he had called her by her first name. Such a simple thing, she thought, and yet it left her so utterly joyful.

Mr Butler led them through to the back parlor and began pouring drinks. Phryne waved him away and he left on a bow.

"So Jack," she smiled, taking over the pouring. "What news have you to tell me?"

Jack relayed to her the main bullet points of the interrogation and she sat and listened. Jack could practically see the fountain pen in her head writing mental notes.

"So he is sticking to the story that he was in love with her until she turned on him and started blackmailing him?"

"It would seem that way," Jack agreed, leaning back into the corner of the sofa taking a sip of his drink. Even if Miss Fisher were a hag, her whiskey could keep him returning to give her information. However, that would never be the case. It rolled smoothly down his throat and left behind a warm trail.

"And you believe his story?"

"I feel so inclined."

"So do I," Phryne huffed. Obviously she was not happy about this.

"And what information do you have to tell me?" Jack asked.

Phryne gave an innocent look that collapsed in a laugh at Jack's expression. He really was beginning to know her all too well. "She escaped from the hospital this morning and has not been seen since, Delilah Brown, that is. Her mother, a truly disgusting woman, offered no help."

"She escaped?"

"Well, she discharged herself. Against Mac's expert medical advise."

They fell into silence that was not altogether awkward, but certainly wasn't comfortable either.

"I've never seen this room before," Jack mused, making conversation. "I didn't even know it existed."

"Hmmm," Phryne purred – did she know how such a sound affected him? She must – and considered the room. "I don't use it nearly enough. It's one of my favorites."

This did not surprise Jack and all. It suited her. The dark colors were seductive and matched her coloring as perfectly as the robe she had donned.

Phryne's eyes, finished wandering the room, settled on Jack's and he felt his heart stop before accelerating to a speed greater, even, than the speed at which Phryne dashed around town in her Hispano-Suiza. He had not previously thought such a speed was possible. When he opened his mouth to speak he was surprised by the clarity and frankness that he managed. "What's happening here Phryne?"

She started to feign innocence by was stopped by Jack's raised eyebrows. "Truth be told Jack, I don't know myself. Though I can say I've been trying to keep to our promise, only one gunfight since we spoke."

"Yes, only one."

It appeared he had the Hon. Miss Phryne Fisher running scared, trying to return the conversation to a lighthearted manner with which she were comfortable. Jack too, he supposed, would have been more comfortable with jovial atmosphere, but he knew he had to get said what needed to be said.

"I'm not easily changed," Phryne smiled.

"No." Something in his tone had Phryne's smile disappearing. "You're not." Phryne waited, frozen, for Jack to continue. She was unbelievably and surprisingly nervous. "I won't be one of her many lovers Phryne. I'm not going to be one of a great crowd."

The comments, although callous, did not offend her. Phryne was perfectly at peace with the fact that she had had many men and although she didn't quite like how Jack had phrased it, she understood. It was not something she was ashamed of.

"You, Jack, will never just be one of the crowd," she said after a while.

They were sitting, once again, on opposite sides of the room, at a safe enough distance a way from each other. In the silence, the crackle of the fire could be heard. Both wanted desperately to go to the other.

"Well, I should be going," Jack said, finishing his drink and standing. Phryne stood with him.

He was nearly out of the room when she spoke.

"Jack."

He waited, her mouth was open to say something more but it appeared that not even she knew the words she wished to speak. Something about love, she mused. Did she love Jack Robinson? Certainly, she had loved many men in her time, but nothing felt quite like this. This felt entirely too similar to how she had felt, all those many years ago, with Rene Dubois, and the thought unsettled her.

Jack turned and headed out of the room when he decided there was nothing more Phryne was going to say.

She stood still for only a moment before exclaiming, "Dammit Jack."

He returned to the room to see her running towards him and before he knew what had hit him her arms were wrapped around his neck and her mouth assaulting his. With speed, passion and desperation he pulled her close to him, as close as was humanly possible whilst they were both still dressed. He longed to rip the clothing off her back and take her with wild passion on the floor. He had to struggle not to.

Meanwhile Phryne was facing the same struggle.

She pulled him until he was pressing her against a dark blue wall, hands grasping at her thigh as she hooked a leg around his. Phryne wished she had worn the dress as she longed to have his hands on her bare skin. His touch left a trail of burns.

Jack broke contact with her lips only to begin an assault on her neck. At that point Phryne lost all control and began fighting to get his suit jacket off of him.

It took Jack a great deal of effort to pull back.

When they stopped they were both lost for breath, panting, and looking deeply into the other's eyes. Phryne took it for a miracle that she did not explode.

"Stay with me," Phryne begged. She did not like how unsure her voice was, how utterly desperate she sounded. She hated to think that in such a question she was putting so much of her heart on the line. How had she not realized earlier how deep her attachment to Jack had become?

"Not tonight," Jack managed despite every part of his body telling him he were a fool. "Not tonight," he repeated, as if trying to convince himself.

"Okay," Phryne said with a shaky voice.

The two untangled themselves and Phryne saw Jack out. Mr Butler gave her a sympathetic smile as she shut the door behind him – his powers of deduction, Phryne mused, were as sharp as ever. Phryne returned herself to the back parlor, liberally poured herself another drink, and sat in front of the fire, trying to work out how on earth she was to find Delilah Brown and trying not to think about how wholly unsteady Jack had left her feeling.

. . .

xoxo