AN: trigger warning -mentions of sexual assault and violence. Descriptions of injuries.

/ / TUESDAY - Morning / /

Phryne stared at her reflection. It was worse in the light of the morning she thought. The bruises seemed more pronounced. Had they darkened over night, she wondered, or had she simply not paid them proper attention yesterday? Perhaps she'd just been too preoccupied by the red of her eyes; it was a particularly unpleasant sight.

She sighed, touching her fingers tentatively to the marks on her neck. They would fade, she knew, but for now she faced the task of masking them under makeup, and perhaps a scarf.

Dot walked in with a tray of coffee and sat it down on the vanity in front of her. "Did you want some help, Miss?" she asked, her gaze full of concern as she looked at the purple bruises.

"I should manage," Phryne replied, and she smiled, hoping to put her companion at ease.

"Hugh is downstairs. He wants to take your statement. And I think he might need photographs?"

The idea of photos did not appeal to Phryne at all. The last thing she wanted was a permanent documentation of these injuries for people to stare at.

"Then perhaps I needn't bother with all this," Phryne sighed. "Find me something to wear, Dot? And a scarf to match."

Dot nodded and Phryne drank her coffee and picked up her brush to run through her hair as she waited. When Dot returned she dressed quickly, then draped the scarf carefully around her neck to hide the worst of the bruises. With a deep breath she stepped from her bedroom and made her way downstairs.

Hugh stood in the kitchen, he held a cup of tea in front of him, and he was talking idly with Mr Butler over the improvement in the recipe for drop scones he had made. Jack sat silently at the table with Orpheus, both eating and reading from different sections of the paper.

"Good morning," she smiled, trying to sound cheerful but not quite achieving it.

The four men all stopped and looked at her. Mr Butler recovered first, wishing his employer a good morning before he returned to his washing of the cutlery. Jack managed an encouraging smile and Orpheus stood, offering his chair to her.

"Thank you," Phryne sat. There was a pad of paper topped with a fountain pen sitting before her at the table, clearly awaiting her written statement. "Shall we just get this out of the way quickly?"

"I, uh. Yes, if that's what you'd like, Miss Fisher," Hugh stuttered.

"Please."

Without word Mr Butler moved from the room and Orpheus reached out, squeezing his sister's shoulder momentarily before following.

Jack stayed, and Phryne found his fingers under the table. Hugh placed his teacup back in its saucer and pulled a notebook from his pocket, licking his pencil before clearing his throat and asking his first question.

Phryne recounted the experience in detail, never once letting her voice waver or her emotions get the better of her. She just squeezed Jack's hand and stared directly ahead, speaking clearly and calmly as she answered each question. Then she wrote it all down, Jack's hand on her knee.

When she was done she signed the bottom of the page and Hugh produced a police issue camera. He took a photo of her injured wrists and ankles, her bared neck and the bruising to her face.

"Is that all you need?" Phryne asked, adamantly forcing back tears as she wound her scarf back in place.

"Yes, Miss. That's all."

"Is there any further news about Mr Thomas?"

"He's still at the hospital Miss, under guard. He'll be moved to the station as soon as the doctors say it's safe."

She nodded, then quietly excused herself and left.

Jack watched her go, knowing she would need a few moments to herself. He could hear her begin to climb the stairs and he turned to his Constable, taking the time to get a full and thorough update. Eventually though he could wait no longer, and dismissing Collins with a grateful nod, he followed Phryne through the house and up the stairs.

He found her in her boudoir. She was sitting slumped over at her vanity, her face cradled in her hands as quietly she sobbed.

Phryne did not cry easily, Jack knew, and he closed the door gently behind him before walking across the room to place a hand on her shoulder.

She started at the touch, and looked up sharply, catching sight of his reflection.

Tears lingered in her eyes as she met his gaze, and wordlessly she turned to face him. Jack reached into his pocket to produce a handkerchief. He wiped away her tears with a gentle hand, then cupped the uninjured side of her face and bent slowly to kiss her.

Phryne kissed him back, her hands reaching up to wrap around his shoulders. They parted to breathe and Phryne sniffed slightly, then stood, her hands slipping to his chest.

Jack watched her carefully, unable meet her lowered gaze.

She began to pull at the knot of his tie, pulling it loose as he stood patiently and watched her. Dropping the strip of fabric to the floor, Phryne started on his buttons next, undoing his collar and his shirt until she met the top of his waistcoat. Jack let her push his jacket from his shoulders, and he undid the buttons on his waistcoat in time for her to push that off too.

His braces were next, unsnapped from his trousers and discarded to the floor as her hands returned to the buttons of his shirt. She untucked the garment and drew his cufflinks from their place before stripping that from him too. Underneath it Jack wore a singlet, and he quickly pulled it over his head revealing his bare chest to her.

Phryne paused.

She ran her hands over his stomach and across his chest, her fingers lightly scratching at his skin. Jack shuddered, waiting for her next move.

Stepping closer, Phryne's arms slid to wind themselves around Jack's waist, and she pressed her cheek over his heart, listening to its beat for a moment. His arms folded over her in turn, holding her close and running soothingly over her back.

With a slow breath in and out Phryne stepped back, reaching for the hem of her own blouse and pulled it over her head.

Jack's gaze never left hers as she removed the scarf next, then her camisole, leaving her just as barechested as he. Her hands moved to the fastening of her trousers, and Jack swallowed but stood patiently as she pulled them undone and let them fall down her legs.

She dropped her gaze then, bending to pull her feet from the garment, unbuckling her shoes afterward, and shrinking two inches as she stepped from them.

Straightening and looking up at Jack once more, Phryne stood before him in just her knickers and stockings. He swallowed.

He didn't quite know what to make of this. After all he had just heard, all she had been through, this was… this was the last thing he had expected to happen when he followed her into her room. But she stood before him so earnestly now. Her cheeks tear stained bruised and red from crying, but her eyes now dry and open and honest. She was waiting, for what? For him to turn her away in disgust at the touch of another man on her body? Or the marks of the torture she had suffered at Thomas' hand?

No. Jack set his jaw firmly, taking in the sight of her standing in her underwear before him. Never before had she been this vulnerable, he thought. And he would never break that trust. Slowly and carefully he offered a hand to her.

Phryne took it, and Jack squeezed her fingers, lifting them to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She smiled.

"Come here," he murmured.

Phryne stepped close once more, Jack's hands finding her waist as he dipped his head and kissed her sweetly. "What do you want, Phryne?" he asked, eyes searching her face carefully.

"To make love to you," she replied, "please."

"Are you…" Jack closed his eyes, concentrating hard to prevent his emotions from ruining the atmosphere of the room around them. "Are you sure?"

Phryne nodded. "Yes."

She pushed onto her tip toes, kissing him again, feeling his mouth open against hers and kiss her back.

She clung to him, and their movements became more desperate and passionate. Jack's hands splayed across her back, pulling her closer as Phryne's worked their way between their bodies to pull at the buttons of his trousers. She got them undone and Jack toed off his shoes as she pushed the trousers urgently down his legs.

He kissed her harder, Phryne's hand stroking him to hardness as he moaned.

She pulled back, quickly pushing her knickers and stockings down her legs in one. Jack used the time to also step from his trousers and remove his own socks and underwear until they both stood naked before each other. Phryne stepped forward and placed a firm hand on his chest, walking him backward until the backs of his knees hit the mattress and he fell to sit on the bed. She climbed over him, settling in his lap and running her fingers through his slicked back hair as she brought their lips together again.

Jack ran his hands over her thighs and up her sides until he reached her breasts. He caressed the sensitive skin, brushing his thumbs over her nipples and she hummed into his mouth, gently pushing against him until he fell back into the quilt.

She began to slide her hips over his erection, teasing her clit and moaning periodically at the sensation. Jack too groaned at the touch of her, a hand sliding to her hip to encourage her movements as the other continued to cup and squeeze her breast. Within minutes she was reaching between them, guiding him to her entrance and gliding down over his cock, their kiss breaking as they both let out a throaty hum of approval.

Phryne sat up, resting her hands on Jack's chest, and after a moment's pause to adjust, she began to move. She was in control, eyes closed as her hips rolled against his. Jack watched her with fervent eyes, his hands sliding up and down her thighs, then one slipping between her legs and brushing through her curls to find her clit.

He traced circles over it in time to her rolling hips, and she gasped. Her movements became faster and her fingers dug into Jack's chest as she moved closer and closer to her peak.

She came with a cry and fell into his arms. Jack pressed a kiss to her temple, pausing to let her recover before seeking his own pleasure, but Phryne just smiled and kissed his lips, murmuring "More," into his mouth before sitting up once again.

She rode him again, calling out with each of her thrusts, then guided Jack's hand back between her legs.

When she came the second time she didn't fall forward, but ground against him, panting heavily with her head tilted back.

"Phryne," Jack grunted, so close himself to release, "I need to..."

"I'm not wearing my diaphragm," Phryne told him apologetically, "you'll have to…"

"I don't mind," he groaned. "Come here."

Phryne moved forward and leant over him, lifting her hips so he fell free from her. She supported her weight with a hand next his head, bending down to kiss him deeply as her other hand found his cock and began to stroke it firmly.

Jack groaned, squeezing her breast in one hand, and her backside with the other.

When he came it was against both their chests, and she swallowed his shout, slowing her hand gradually until he stopped shuddering beneath her.

She rolled to his left, laying on her side with her head tucked into his shoulder, and absently Jack bent his arm at the elbow to run his fingertips through her hair. They would need to get up soon, clean themselves and redress, but for now they lay, slowly letting their breath settle and their heartbeats slow.

Phryne was first to recover, if only for the protest from her bladder. She tilted her head up and pressed a kiss to Jack's cheek before unwinding herself from his arm and sitting up.

Jack watched as she stood and stretched, then rummaged through their clothes until she found his handkerchief. She used it to wipe at the semen on her stomach and breasts, and Jack opened his mouth to protest. That was his handkerchief, he needed that and she was soiling it with his… well. She began to wipe at his chest next, before Jack could find his voice to complain. He met her smile with look of frustration and a roll of his eyes.

"What do you suggest I use?" she asked, "I can hardly step into the hall with that on my chest, what if I ran into Orphie? Or Dot!"

Jack spluttered, "There is a washcloth in the bath from last night."

Phryne's eyes sparkled, "Oh!" she exclaimed, her voice falsely high as she teased him, "So there is. I had completely forgotten."

"That was my only handkerchief," Jack grumbled, sitting up. "And it hasn't worked particularly effectively."

His chest still felt sticky with a light smear of the white substance, and Phryne laughed. He shot her a look.

"Oh I'm sorry, Jack," she told him. "Here."

She moved to her bath and turned the tap, running his handkerchief under the water for a moment. Then she wrung it out before turning the stream off and moving back to the bed. Jack took the hanky from her and wiped it over his chest, it did a better job than before and reluctantly he thanked her as he handed it back.

There was a sudden knock at her door, and Orpheus called through loudly, "Phryne if you and the Inspector are quite done, our aunt is downstairs demanding to see you."

Phryne wrinkled her nose, but grabbed her robe and wound the tie firmly around her waist. Jack barely managed to throw the side of the quilt over himself when she opened the door half a foot to speak to her brother.

"What does she want?" Phryne asked, "I thought we managed to convince her I was fine last night."

Orpheus swallowed, "She's heard about Celia's arrest," he explained, shifting nervously on the balls of his feet. "She says she has some information she thinks she ought to tell us."