A/N Hello and welcome!
These are unusual and challenging times we're all facing and I hope everyone is doing alright and staying healthy. This was posted on another fiction platform, but I realized there may be a couple of you here on FFnet who would like to read it, too! I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and do not benefit from writing these stories, I just enjoy playing with Phrack and their friends.

Jack glanced at his watch, stifling a yawn.

Finally , he sighed, time to pack up . It was two o'clock on a Saturday morning. Only two more nights of the shite shift, he reminded himself as he locked his desk drawers. Jack hated the 6:00pm to 2:00am shift more than any other schedule, but unlike some of his counterparts in the City North and City East stations, he wouldn't dream of shirking his duty in taking his fair turn. To Jack, it was of the utmost importance to demonstrate to his Constables and Sergeants that he carried his weight, that he wasn't asking his men to do anything he wouldn't do, himself.

There was a time when Jack didn't mind the shift; it gave him an excuse to be out of his house when things were turning sour with Rosie. Once his divorce was final and he slowly started to put his personal life back together, he preferred the shifts that would allow his evenings to remain free.

Since the finalization of his divorce several months earlier, he'd stepped out with a few women – to dinner, to the pictures, to the park for walks. Jack had feared that, at thirty-eight years of age, he was woefully out of practice when it came to the tricky art of socializing and courting. He steered clear, relatively quickly, of one particular woman who appeared to be desperately on the hunt for a husband. Jack certainly wasn't eager to plow into another marriage… He already proved to himself that he wasn't good at the institution as a whole. Despite his concerns, he'd spent a couple of nights in a bed other than his own, and as enjoyable as the evenings had been, (and as reassuring as it was to learn that all was still in working order) , the experiences were ultimately superficial, leaving him feeling hollow.

He tried not to focus too intensely on it, but he knew why he was uninspired to create deeper connections with the women who were clearly interested in getting to know him better… His thoughts always returned to Miss Fisher and, in comparison, every other woman paled. He held no disillusions about his chances to ever be with her — it was no secret that the Honorable Miss was not the kind of woman who would be particularly interested in a dour man like himself; she simply flirted for the fun of it, and most likely, with the sole intent of making him blush… Often ...

If, however unlikely, the partners were to ever find themselves in a position to become intimately acquainted, he wasn't sure it would even work... She was a thoroughly modern woman without interest in serious commitment, and he was a fairly traditional man, probably irreversibly stuck in many of his ways, regardless of his recent forays into casual relations. Still, she filled his thoughts by day and haunted his dreams by night.

Jack tried to convince himself that it would wear-off, that the feelings he had were nothing more than infatuation. After all, she was a beautiful woman, and he was, simply put, a mere mortal. Phryne was smart and witty, fearless and passionate. He loved when she challenged him - it helped make him a better man and officer, he was certain of it. Until either the novelty of his attraction to her wore off, or he met a woman within his reach who could make him feel as alive as Miss Fisher did, he would bide his time with his detective work, sometimes with her at his side. He'd hope and look forward to sharing a whiskey and, if he's lucky, the occasional delicious meal, with the Honorable Miss.

The weather was pleasant, and Jack opted to walk home by the foreshore. It always made for a pleasant way to unwind when he took the scenic route at two in the morning - it was the only redeeming quality to this particular shift. Picking up a few shells on the way, he took his time, listening to the crashing tide against the shore. The moon was full and bright, it's beams cutting through the night sky like ribbons falling to rest over the dancing waves. Inhaling deeply, he contentedly filled his lungs with the strong scent of sea air. He faced into the breeze, his ever-inquisitive mind considering the powerful effects that Mother Nature created between the celestial bodies overhead, the howling wind and the constant ebb and flow of the ocean. The combination never failed to remind him that there was much more to life than what was on the surface.

He did a double-take when he caught the glint of a shiny red car parked at the end of the sidewalk, and his eyes skimmed his surroundings. As he drew closer, his suspicions were confirmed, it was, in fact, the Hispano-Suiza that he knew so well. His heart raced in momentary concern about why it was parked at the beach, at half past two in the morning.

He turned in place, scanning the beach again, and when his eyes found their target, he found himself releasing a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The very object of his distraction was sitting alone, cross-legged in the center of a blanket spread out on the sand, facing the deep blue waters. He watched as she turned her face towards the sea breeze and tilted back, letting the air flow through her hair, whipping tips of her raven bob into a wild frenzy of shadow. Not wanting to disturb her, but cautious about her well-being ( after all, it was the wee hours of morning and she was a woman alone on the beach, no matter how capable, and there had been a mugging not for from this spot only a few nights prior... ), he opted to step noiselessly into the shadow, her silent sentry.

Time passed slowly, but peacefully. After a good thirty minutes or so, he watched silently as she pushed to her feet, gathered her shoes, hat and blanket, and meandered up the beach towards her car. He didn't want to startle her, lest she pull her pistol and shoot first, opting for questions later, nor did he want her to think he'd been spying, because that wasn't his intent. So, he stayed put in the darkness, his eyes following her movements.

She didn't seem to notice her guard in the shadow, but when she crossed the path that placed her closest to his post, she paused and he wondered if she could sense his presence. If she did, she didn't acknowledge the sensation and continued towards her car, stopping once more just long enough to slip into her shoes. When she reached the drivers door, she hesitated again, turning her head almost far enough in his direction that he thought his presence had perhaps been detected. She didn't swivel quite far enough, though, and with a visible sigh, she simply turned and climbed into the car, quickly pulling from the parking space and heading towards Wardlow.

peace and love, my friends,

~jazzy