Chapter 26: Willow

"You know, disappearing without a word while a murderer is sneaking through the shadows is not a very kind move," Jack pointed out casually, leaning against the wall, where Miss Fisher was smoking.

"I can take care of myself, Jack," she insisted and he decided not to point out the numerous occasions where she had escaped death only by an inch and not always completely without his assistance. Mostly because he didn't want to think about it too hard. He had gotten used to her free spirit with time but it didn't mean that he wasn't scared out of his wits, that he wouldn't make it there in time one day.

"I never questioned that you can."

"There is just a little too much family in there," she admitted after a while.

"I do apologise for that, Miss Fisher," he smiled.

The stone was warm in his back, still storing the heat from the only just set sun, while he looked at his tree, with it's leaves rustling lightly in the wind. The vines seemed to have climbed even higher if that was at all possible, wrapping their slender arms around it's branches. They were entangled beyond separation.

"There are a lot of trees here," Phryne said, shaking him out of his thoughts. "How many members of your family are you still hiding?"

He smiled at this.

"Still a few, despite not all of those trees belonging to someone. The walnut tree there is Walter's, and the big linden over there is my mother's. It survived her. Even though it was only planted when she was 16, so I guess it does have some years to go."

"Let me guess. Olivia has an olive tree?" Miss Fisher joked, purposefully distracting him. Jack grinned into the darkness, while she rubbed out her cigarette with her heel.

"Actually no, hers is an apple tree for some reason. I guess she can count herself lucky, she didn't end up being named Jonathan."

"What about this one?"

Jack eyes followed the gesture of her hand to a maple.

"My sisters. One of the people I am still hiding from you. For good reason, I assure you."

Phryne smiled.

"There are also some people I don't know myself," she heard him say. It made her turn her head in astonishment.

"I have an aunt, or so I'm told. My father's sister Sophie. She vanished before I was born."

"She didn't happen to be in your uncle|s office at the time, did she?"

Jack laughed.

"I don't think she has ever been to Wombat hall, actually. The Robinsons were living in Melton back then."

"Didn't you say, your father was a young police officer here in Daylesford?"

Jack nodded. "I believe he didn't take Sophie's disappearance well and cut loose from his parents after the events."

"Reminds me of someone," Phryne grumbled under her breath.

"Well, he did have a point. There was quite some scandal attached."

"Scandal in the Robinson clan? Do tell."

The Inspector grinned. He could have guessed that this would pique Miss Fisher's curiosity more than trees.

"There was a young man, son of some family friends. According to rumour he had an affair with my grandmother though. And then eloped with her daughter."

"Scandalous indeed," Phryne commented, lighting another gasper. "Did they get married?"

"According to her letters, they did."

Jack stole the gleaming stick from her fingers, taking a deep draw, before continuing,

"She sent postcards from all parts of the world and later also pictures of her children. But nobody has ever seen her again."

Miss Fisher thought about this for a while.

"Seems an awfully long time to hold on to a grudge."

Jack handed back her cigarette smiling.

"That seems to be in the Robinson's blood. I believe, it took ten years before father spoke to his mother again. She has asked to meet you, by the way."

"I'd like that."

Phryne wasn't lying. Meeting Jack's family suddenly seemed a lot more adventurous than she had anticipated. All in all she found the experience rather astounding and not only because it showed facets of her Inspector she hadn't witnessed before. There was suddenly a whole lot of people in her life that she realised she actually cared about to varying degrees, be it for their own sake or for their part in Jack's happiness. Stretching her hand out to touch his, she instead found his leg. Jack was currently running his fingers through his hair trying to brush off the thoughts of just how good his father was in holding on to a grudge. When her warm skin touched his thigh, almost forgotten sensations from dinner returned with powerful force.

"Speaking of family scandal, Miss Fisher," he said hoarsely, grabbing her hand and turning to her, "if you insist on teasing me during family dinners, I might have to resort to drastic measures."

While he'd said that he had stepped in front of her, practically locking her against the wall. Miss Fisher looked up at him with big eyes and a tiny smirk.

"Is that so, Inspector?" she breathed, so much teasing in her words that they seemed to tingle in every single one of his nerve endings. The hand that he wasn't holding onto, trailed seductively along his hipbone, while he moved in closer, trapping her. She could feel his body respond through the layers of fabric separating them and gasped in a mixture of surprise and arousal, when Jack lifted her hand to his lips and gently nipped at her fingertip, without removing his eyes from hers for a second.

"Very much so," he smiled. "But probably not here and now."

"We should go back inside," Phryne said, when she had regained her breath.

"Yes, we should," the Inspector answered, without looking away or moving. The heat radiating from his body seemed to crawl under Phryne's skin. She could feel her knees weaken, her resolve had long since left. So what if their collected families were only a few walls away? His lips were a lot closer and she really, really wanted to kiss him. His flickering gaze and ragged breath told her, that he was thinking very much along the same lines.

"We really shouldn't do this here," he uttered, his mouth now so close that she could feel his warm breath ghosting over here cheek.

"Indeed a very bad idea, Inspector."

Their lips met and the following explosion in Phryne's nerve endings evaporated any remaining reason from her brain. His hands were suddenly everywhere, setting fire to her skin in their wake, and her own were clutching at his shirt with the desperation of a starving woman. There was a hard wall in her back, she realised, when he lifted her, hastily shuffling her skirt aside with strong hands, as if his life depended on it. She would probably be bruised by the morning, but right now, she didn't care. Just when the thought drowned in a blur of lust, his hand snaked around her head, shielding her from the stone and pulling her into another kiss. They swallowed each other's panting moans, as they rocked against the wall in an entanglement that was very much not suited for a family meeting. It was wrong, immoral and definitely forbidden and the fact made it all the sweeter. Jack tasted of vanilla and oak, tonight mixed with a hint of whisky and Phryne couldn't seem to stop kissing him while he ground his hips against hers, driving her to insanity. A white-hot explosion tore a muffled scream from her and dragged him over the edge. With a groan Jack collapsed against her, trapping her in an uncomfortable position. Phryne held onto him tightly while she watched the stars dance in front of her eyes.

"God," she panted. Jack didn't answer. After he had managed a few ragged breaths, he retreated, gently setting her back on her feet. Her knees were trembling. When she looked up, she realised that he was watching her with dark eyes, cupping her cheek.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, currently unable to speak. He didn't seem convinced, especially, when she reached out a hand for him to steady herself. Miss Fisher found herself gently being guided to sit in the grass.

"Phryne?"

"I am fine, Jack. A little overwhelmed maybe."

He grinned at this, but his own voice still sounded shaky.

So they sat, their backs leaned against the wall that harboured the day's warmth in it's stones. Jack's arm had wrapped itself around his fiancée's shoulder, pulling her closer. The moon choose this very moment to pop out behind a pile of clouds, throwing shadows at the couple, quietly wrapped together. Slowly their heartbeats calmed, while they were absorbed in their thoughts.

"I just don't know how to approach him," Jack said into the resulting silence, his voice level. He didn't have to explain. Phryne chewed on her lip in thought.

"Attacking him at any given chance is probably not going to lead to the result you are hoping for," she smiled.

Jack sighed wordlessly somewhere in the darkness. His body was warm and Phryne had to resist the urge to just lay her head against his shoulder and drift off to sleep. After a long pause, she felt inclined to explain what she sensed he had missed, despite all his detective's instinct, blinded by his own anger and guilt.

"Jack, he does care, no matter what you think."

"He has a hell of a way of showing it," her lover grumbled, but she could sense his shields weakening.

When Phryne turned her head, she found him looking at her, searching for the truth he was longing for. She couldn't help herself and reached out her fingers to run them through his dark hair, dishevelling him even more. How they would explain their current state away, she had no idea. She was quite certain that one of her stockings had ripped during their encounter.

"Trust me," she asked. He nodded, peeling her hand from his hair and pressing a kiss to her palm.

They returned to comfortable silence, looking at his oak with it's vines that were almost black in dark.

"Phryne, would you think it silly, if I wanted to get married here?"

For a moment he wondered if she had fallen asleep leaned against him. Then she sighed contentedly.

"I thought, you'd never ask."

X

Miss Rucci answered the door herself. Joseph Barton appeared red and sweaty, as if he had run all the way back from Sydney, when he swept past her without really paying any attention to the pale old housekeeper.

"Dear God, how could this have happened?" he cried out. So they had told him already. "She has only been home since yesterday!"

"She went to her appointment this morning, and didn't return," Miss Rucci stated calmly, closing the door behind her Master. She could honestly say that she wasn't particularly fond of him and had always considered him a rather odd choice for her girl. Not that it mattered any more Both her girls were dead. At the thought, the tears returned into her eyes. She really had thought, she had ran out of them this afternoon, after returning from the police station.

"But why would anyone want to shoot my wife?!" Joseph wrung his hands in a theatrical gesture, that she had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at.

"I do not know, Sir," she stated calmly, hoping to be dismissed, so she could mourn in peace. "But it was not only your wife. Madelyn... Miss Spencer, was also murdered, on Sunday."

He stared at her, speechless.

"And you still let Abigail go out alone?!"

"What was I supposed to do, Sir? I could not keep her from attending her appointment."

He rubbed his face with both hands.

"Of course not, Miss Rucci. Forgive me. I am just in shock."

She nodded, pulling her face into a grimace.

"Would you like some tea, Sir?" she asked.

"That would be lovely, thank you."

She breathed a sigh of relief, when she finally closed the kitchen door behind herself. Of course, he was in shock, she grumbled under her breath. He who had known Abigail for little more than a year and hated Madelyn with a passion. Miss Rucci was well aware that she was being unfair. Mr. Barton had adored his wife. But being angry was definitely better than crying, she decided, as she brewed two cups of tea.

X

"Won't they miss you?" Doctor MacMillan asked worriedly, as they followed the path along the lake. It was a rather warm evening with countless stars glittering over their heads, much like the night they had shared their first kiss. It seemed years ago now.

"They are used to me wandering off," Hazel laughed. "I do have a reputation as a rebel to defend."

Her hand reached out, lazily wrapping itself around Mac's warm fingers. It was daring, they both knew, but the Doctor didn't have the heart or the will to let go.

"Mrs. Stanley knows," she said after a pause. Hazel bit her lip, suddenly serious.

"Did she say anything?"

Mac shook her head.

"She wanted to. I could tell, when she was yelling at your Uncle."

"But she hasn't," Hazel said, her voice unreadable.

"She has her moments of decency. Even though they are rare."

They wandered for a while in silence, their hands firmly entwined, cool evening wind brushing through their hair, the dark lake splashing lazily against the shore.

"What do you think about my family, Mac?"

Elizabeth had to think about this. Somewhere far, a dog howled.

"I don't mind them mostly. Your Uncle, however, barely escaped being murdered in his sleep last night."

"By multiple people," her companion grinned. "Even Uncle Walter wanted to kill John and he is usually the most determinedly happy man in the world."

"They seem quite nice. I am worried though, what they will make of... us."

Hazel glanced at her lover's serious face, wondering how to answer this. She had hidden this part of herself away many years, but it was different now. She could not hide this forever. Not if she wanted to live this love. She sighed.

"They don't have to know."

"It might be advisable to tell them, before they find out," Mac stated quietly. "God knows, if Mrs. Stanley still feels like being decent tomorrow. And we aren't exactly careful."

She didn't say what she was thinking. That she was sick and tired of being careful, of hiding and pretending. Her heart was beating faster every time she laid eyes on Hazel Morgan and she wanted to shout it into the world. Yet, she couldn't. Not without exposing them both to social disgust. It was so unfair, that she wanted to scream. Her hands balled up to fists, the right one wrapping tighter around her lover's fingers.

"I can't wait to get back to Melbourne," she admitted. "At least there will be a little privacy and not family at every corner."

Hazel nodded into the darkness.

"So, you want to continue seeing me there?" she wondered after a pause, just to make sure. Mac turned her head in surprise.

"You aren't seriously asking that?"

"No," Hazel smiled, pulling her lover into the thicket near the shore, where, hidden from eyes, she dared to embrace her and bring her lips to hers. "I'm not," she finished, after they had resurfaced, somewhat breathlessly from their kiss.

"You know, we could probably sneak in through the kitchen, if you wanted to stay for a while," Mac proposed, unwilling to let go of her lover again. "My bedroom does have a lock."

"That would not be very careful," Hazel pointed out, gently nibbling the other woman's neck.

"No, no it wouldn't," Mac all but moaned. As it turned out, they were both feeling a little rebellious.