PART THIRTEEN - King Memses' Curse

The party passed with much laughter and dancing; a welcome change from what had been a truly harrowing week. Jack spent his time mostly observing the others, Cec danced with Mac, Bert drank on the sidelines and made laughing comments, Dot stood with Hugh, occasionally letting him twirl her on the dance floor as Arthur sang along to the songs and Jane danced joyfully with Phryne. Even Mrs Stanley seemed to be enjoying herself, a glass of champagne between her fingers as she too watched on with a smile.

But Phryne would not let him spend his entire night at the doorway. The song changed and Jane found a place to sit down and rest her sore feet. Miss Fisher took her opportunity and pulled Jack by the hand into the room before spinning herself under his arm and laughing gaily as he threw caution to the wind and joined her.

He was a surprisingly good dancer, Phryne thought, and Jack surprised himself by how he enjoyed it. After dancing two songs with Phryne he found himself dancing with Mac as well, and then Jane after that, and even Dot.

By the end of the evening near all the guests were thoroughly danced out and pleasantly full of fine food and alcohol. Mrs Stanley and Arthur had been the first to leave, some twenty minutes before, having been picked up by their driver. Young Hugh was next, kissing Dorothy on the cheek by the front door. The cabbies followed not long after, and Jane was sent by Dot up to bed.

Mac sat in the parlour having a silent conversation within noiseless glances with Phryne, Jack too distracted to notice as he stood by the empty fireplace and drank the last of what had to be his fourth glass of champagne. Phryne glared at her friend who was making pointed gestures to the Inspector with a tilt of her head. The doctor paid her no mind however, and finished her whisky, placing the glass loudly on the small table before her.

"Right then," she said. "I'd best be off."

"So soon?" Phryne asked, staring firmly at Mac as the woman stood and straightened her waistcoat.

"I have a busy day tomorrow," the doctor lied with a smile. "Happy birthday, Phryne." And with a kiss to Phryne's cheek she was off, gathering her hat and coat by the door.

Phryne stared after her, the gall of that woman!

"Well then, Miss Fisher," murmured a low voice, and she turned to see Jack leaning easily against the mantle. "It looks like it's just you and me."

Phryne let out a small sigh, but smiled. How could she not, when that gorgeous man was looking at her with such fondness.

"So it seems, Inspector." she said, collecting her mostly full glass from the table and moving to join him at the fireplace. She mirrored his stance, resting one arm against the mantle, sipping her champagne with the other.

"I suppose I had better give you your present."

Phryne's eyes widened slightly in surprise, watching as Jack reached for an inside pocket of his jacket. "Oh Jack," she said as he pulled free an envelope, "You didn't have to-"

"I wanted to." He assured her, "Here, take it."

He held out the envelope, and slowly Phryne placed her flute on the mantle and accepted the gift. Not wanting to leave Jack's side to find a letter opener she slid her thumb beneath the flap and tore it open.

"Really Jack," she said as she continued to tear open the envelope, "You didn't need to get me a gift."

"If it makes you feel better, Miss Fisher, it came to no monetary cost," he teased. Phryne rolled her eyes at him, blindly reaching into the envelope and pulling free a piece of paper.

Jack swallowed nervously, and Phryne looked down.

It was the page from a book, she realised, her eyes scanning across the edge where it had been torn free. But the rest of the page showed signs of damage too. The corners were battered and a little torn, the paper itself curled and a bit stiff from having been wet and then dried at some point; the words of the last paragraph just a little blurred.

It was a poem. A French poem. And with a snap Phryne's eyes shot up to meet Jack's as he watched her carefully.

"Is this…?" she asked.

"Yes."

"From my book?"

"Yes."

A wide smile graced her features. "Wait just a moment." She told him, thrusting the page of poetry into his hand before departing quickly from the room and rushing up the stairs. She returned just a few short minutes later, something held tight in her hands.

"Here," she said, beaming and showing him what she had.

It was the book. The very same book and as she opened it Jack caught a glimpse of the words he himself had written there so long ago. Phryne opened to a section with the torn remains of a missing page, then took the poem from Jack's hand and laid it flat.

"You kept it all this time?" Jack asked, awed.

Phryne stroked the words of the poem softly, "Of course I did." she murmured, "And you, Jack. You kept this safe. A torn page from a book of French poetry?"

"It was all I had of you." He whispered in explanation. "And your letter."

"You have that too?"

"It's in my writing desk."

Closing the book with a snap Phryne flung it to the closest chair, and it landed with a muted thud. Jack stared with his eyebrows just slightly higher than was normal. But Phryne pulled his attention back to her, taking his face in her hands and pulling him close until their lips met and she poured all the emotions bubbling in her chest and threatening to spill out into this kiss.

When she pulled back the pair were both breathless, Jack's hands holding her hips close, her own hands resting happily on his shoulders.

"Thank you," she murmured against his lips, "My darling Jack."

Jack could only smile, his heart giddy as he held her close and kissed her again softly.

"Oh Phryne." he whispered, "My Nightingale."

END

AN: I just wanted to say thank you to all of you that have been reading and reviewing this story. It's been so wonderful to read your encouragements and kind words. :)

I also wanted to tell you that I've made a video that kind of joins this story. You will find it on my mfmm tumblr (leptonsandbotons) and I will tag it with the name of this fic.