At around 3 am, Phryne Fisher laid down the hand of cards she was holding and stretched her sore limbs. To her right, Concetta Fabrizzi had her head bedded onto her arms, breathing evenly. Even in her sleep she was beautiful, which was somewhat infuriating. Jack must have noted it too as he had also abandoned his cards and was now watching his fiancee with a fond expression in his eyes.

"More wine?" Phryne asked quietly, fishing for the almost empty bottle. The Inspector shook his head.

"I need to keep a clear head," he explained his reluctance, though he didn't need to. She knew him well enough to see the tension in his muscles, his ears pricking at every sound. He may have been playing cards and with the two women of his life for the last hours, even contributing on occasion to the forced conversation which even the wine seemed unable to loosen entirely, but he was alert all the same. She remembered the many times they had spent nights similar to this, hiding in cabinets or lying guard behind cargo piles, even the one or other sneaky break-in. Of course, there hadn't been another woman sitting between them then. She'd never quite realised just how much she had enjoyed his company until now that it was too late.

"Penny for your thoughts," Jack said. Phryne looked up startled. The target of Jack's attention had changed, but his expression had not.

"I never thought it would end like this," she said before she could bring her tongue under control.

"We aren't dead yet, Miss Fisher," Jack said smilingly, filling his glass despite all his protests. She wasn't sure if he misunderstood her on purpose. But when he had finished, he was looking at her again and her heart did an unbidden leap in her chest.

"No thanks to your shooting skills," she said, echoing a conversation a long time ago.

He sipped on his glass, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

"I may have been slightly distracted by the bullets flying around my ears, Miss Fisher."

Her gaze flickered to his lips, which were slightly parted and stained by the wine. Concetta sighed in her sleep and they tore their eyes off each other as if she had caught them doing something forbidden.

Jack cleared his throat.

"I may have a look around the house," he said. "Make sure everything is locked and bolted."

He was gone before she could protest that his men surely had done so several hours ago. In fact, Miss Fisher rather doubted that any attacks were to be expected in this night. In her experience criminals didn't wait for the early hours of the morning to do forbidden things. She'd just finished that thought when there was a sound from the direction the Inspector had disappeared in.

"Jack?" she called quietly, in a bid to not wake the slumbering Concetta. No answer. Miss Fisher hastened across the hall and into the sitting room. Jack had not bothered to switch on the light and her eyes took a moment to adjust while she stumbled blindly through a collection of soft furnishings.

"Jack?" she whispered.

Another quiet rumble, like someone had bumped into a furnishing of his own.

Breathlessly she pulled her pistol, turning on the spot and taking a step backwards, walked into someone. As she spun, stumbled over her own feet in the process, a pair of arms caught her and the familiar scent finally gave his identity away.

"Jack?" she gasped, her heartbeat still droning in her ears.

"Who else did you expect?" he asked dryly, but also sounding a touch breathless. His eyes fell onto the pistol still clutched between her fingers.

"If you intend on shooting me, Miss Fisher, I propose you get in line."

The darkness couldn't hide his smile and Phryne became finally fully aware of his proximity. Carefully she shifted her weight back onto her own feet, but then found it completely impossible to let go of him. For a long moment she stood, panting, telling herself that she was merely still catching her breath while feeling rather more like she was drowning. Then she realised that his head was turned away from her, staring out into the darkness.

"There's someone out there," he finally whispered, his arms disappointingly slipping away, leaving her shivering in the cool morning air. She looked outside in the direction he was gesturing, and indeed, a small dot of light was floating through the air at the edge of the garden. Someone, half hidden underneath the trees, was smoking. Her detective's heart felt rather insulted by such cheek, but Jack was already on his way to the door. She needed to hurry in order to catch up with him. Outside they split, Jack going the direct way, seeking cover from the bushes, while Phryne would sneak along the fence to catch the intruder if he should run. Her heart was hammering heavily against her ribcage as she watched the Inspector's frame move closer to what was probably an armed gunman - or possibly several. The night was still too dense to make out much of anything. High, damp grass closed over her heeled feet as she hurried along the fencing towards them. Why had she allowed him to go by himself? How silly of her.

They arrived at about the same time, rendering their split unnecessary. Underneath a gum tree, face shadowed by his hat, stood a tall man, currently rubbing out a cigarillo with his heel in the wet grass, the heavy scent of aromatic tobacco still hanging in the air. The sudden light of a lamp blinded him.

"Don't move, police," Jack said.

The man shielded his eyes, answering in Italian.

"Who do we have here?" Phryne said. "Pappa Antonio."

Antonio Strano said something under his breath which wasn't suited for mixed company.

"What are you doing here, Mr Strano?" Jack asked, one hand still wrapped around the lamp, the other hovering over his pistol. Phryne had pulled hers, so it was highly unlikely.

"I was visiting my children," the older man said smoothly and in visible annoyance.

"In the dead of night?"

"I couldn't sleep. I was worried."

He shrugged in exasperation, indicating that he considered their behaviour unreasonable.

"Or maybe you were here to rid yourself of your future son-in-law," Phryne said calmly. "Or maybe your daughter? Your son?"

"Why on earth would I do that?" Strano asked, not giving her the satisfaction of letting his mask slip.

"I could think of a couple reasons. Disobedient children are said to drive some parents to distraction."

"You're mad," Pappa Antonio said, turning to Jack. "Can you believe this nonsense? Me, kill my Concetta e Vincenzo?! Madness."

"So, why are you hiding in the bushes, if you aren't here to cause trouble?" Jack asked calmly.

"I do not have to explain myself to you!" Strano said hotly, turning on his heel. The Inspector attempted to grab him by the arm and with a fiery stare Strano spun and spat at his feet.

"You wish to marry Concetta and you think this of her father?! Vergognati!"

Stunned, Jack watched as he elderly man made his way through the night. Phryne attempted to rush after the man, but he held her back.

"Leave him be," he said. "I don't think he's our man."

She didn't ask how he had come to that conclusion.