Chapter 7

Summary: Phrack all alone. In a rowing boat. And a fishing hut.

"You'd better form a queue, Miss Fisher," Jack called out, his voice echoing across the waters now being disturbed by the thrashing fish. "I'll let you know after I assess the size of this potential addition first."

Another unyielding tug of the fishing line (resembling the strong twinge somewhere deep inside him that he promptly ignored), nearly caused Jack to let go of the rod as he commanded himself to focus. Even so, he couldn't help glancing over his shoulder to spy her unmistakable profile leaning nonchalantly with one arm against his wooden hut. In spite of the fierce summer sun beating down upon them, he couldn't help admiring the immaculate vision she presented in the most practical outfit he had seen her sporting yet. The detective in him noted that her fedora and shirt resembled something that one of her red raggers would have chosen and wouldn't have been surprised if this detail was intentional in order to give her tail the slip.

The sudden slack in the line caused Jack to curse under his breath as he had to concede defeat in the battle with the victorious trout. Pulling down his fishing rod, the inspector hefted a large sigh before giving into the inevitable interruption to his brief holiday. He then took up his oars and proceeded to navigate his way back to shore. Looking up, he saw her blink against the sunlight and his frustration seeped out of him even whilst her amused smile grew wider as he slowly edged the boat against the soft sand bank.

"Hello, Jack! I've brought us some lunch," she chirped happily as though her sudden appearance in the middle of nowhere was absolutely normal, and which in all actuality, was to be expected when it came to Miss Fisher. "And good thing too, since I see you've just allowed yours to escape."

That was when Jack noticed the basket she had magically procured, and which she tauntingly began to swing before his nose. Seeing how he'd only managed to gulp down some dry toast earlier that morning, Jack paused to regard her and the basket silently before holding out a hand in surrendered invitation.

"Well, Miss Fisher, seems I may have room for a passenger after all," he stated in a deadpan tone. "The cost of your voyage, however, might also depend on your ability to procure our dinner."

"Done!" She flashed him an especially playful grin. "And so long as you don't expect me to cook it!" Her smile widened in triumph when he reached for the basket and safely stowed it on the hull behind him. "Then it seems we have us a deal, Captain Robinson."

"Welcome aboard, First Mate Fisher."

He shook her hand with mock solemnity even as amusement tinged his tanned features when she grasped his hand more tightly and swiftly climbed aboard. Soon as she was seated, Jack used an oar to push them offshore whilst pointedly ignoring her wiggling as she settled herself across from him. She eyed him devilishly, slowly edging her long legs straight out in front of her and right between his, being sure to tuck her boots beneath his seat. She then leaned back and tilted her head up, slowly closing her eyes in order to bask in the warm rays as he rowed them back out towards the centre of the calm lake. Jack eventually stilled the oars, and again took up his fishing rod, sorting through his gear for another lure to prepare for another attempt. He worked in silence for a few minutes, peering at her curiously from beneath his cap before accepting the situation with a slight shrug.

Although Jack had learned to thrive on routine, especially from his earliest days at the Police Academy followed by his tenure as a lance corporal, he had also learned to hone his ability to adapt to the unexpected in order to survive the reality of his training. Admittedly, he never imagined having to continually implement this training with such regularity as a result of the woman now sitting across from him. On days like this, he could almost confess that he enjoyed her freight train modus operandi. However, he would also sooner take on extra paperwork than ever admitting it to her!

"I can sense that you're holding back the urge to launch into interrogation mode, Inspector," she commented without moving a muscle or opening an eye. "And before you make a mental note to berate dear Hugh, I was able to deduct your exact whereabouts without your constable's assistance."

"Oh, is that so? I'm truly all agog, Miss Fisher."

"Well, you only have yourself to blame, Jack," she stated cryptically. "Thank you, by the way, for the thoughtful note and book you left me."

"It was my pleasure, Miss Fisher." He cleared his throat briefly, suddenly hoping that it hadn't been too forward of him to lend her that particular tale. "Although, you really didn't have to take it upon yourself to thank me in person."

Flashing him her customary saucy smile, Phryne suddenly sat up straight and leaned over to whisk the fishing pole from him as he puzzled over her remark. He watched mesmerized as she expertly swung the pole and then deftly released the line to an impressive length into the water before resuming her reposed position with the rod securely in her hands.

"Do you know, I'd never ventured out to these parts before? Simply breathtaking! I can see why one could easily escape here."

"'What are men to rocks and mountains'?"

"That sounds familiar." She canted her head in thought whilst continuing to keep an eye on her fishing line. "Shakespeare?"

"Miss Austen again, as a matter of act." Jack's mouth shifted into his familiar side smile. "Whom I'm certain the Bard would consider to be another genius of English literature."

"I couldn't have put it better myself," she affirmed as she continued to gaze out at the serene surroundings. "And I'm not at all surprised why you must love it out here, Jack."

"Perhaps you should wait until you've had the opportunity to experience its magnificent nightlife before deciding, Miss Fisher." Then, realizing how his comment could be inappropriately misconstrued, he awkwardly added, "Just in case it doesn't comply to your usual standards, I mean."

"Oh, pish posh, Jack," she tutted before springing upright again as the fishing pole jerked suddenly. "As much as I've grown to adore my creature comforts, you'd be amazed at some of the places where I've laid my head."

Jack simply lifted an eyebrow in acknowledgement without making any further enquiries as to where, and more importantly, with whom.

"I only had the opportunity for a cursory glance at my rented holiday cottage when I first arrived, and it seemed more than comfortable for a person's needs." She paused before arching her own eyebrow suggestively at him as she lowered her tone. "Or for two persons."

That was when the detective instantly deduced the location of his misplaced list on which he had jotted the address of the nearby holiday cottages in case Collins needed to reach him. Why hadn't he checked the inside of the book before passing it to Collins to deliver? He scolded himself for his lapse although he was quite certain she would have successfully unearthed the location herself in the end if she so desired.

"Well, I've seen enough empirical evidence to suggest that you would thrive in any environment, Miss Fisher, including the untold wilds of the Yarra Valley."

And that brought him to the crux of his current internal enquiries. Why was she here? Thankfully, it didn't seem that some recent catastrophe had motivated her to seek him out. In fact, he was relieved to note that her usual playful and flirty manner didn't seem to be concealing anything urgent or troublesome at all. Given the highly tense events of Murdoch Foyle's reappearance in her life and the scare they'd both shared at Jane's near abduction, Jack was glad to see her relaxing and enjoying herself. He could even admit to himself that in spite of her propensity for constantly showing up uninvited to first his cases, and now, his holiday, he was grateful to have her company.

The sudden jiggling of the line broke into the peaceful atmosphere.

"And on behalf of my empty stomach, I'm extremely grateful to witness you living up to your family's name."

She threw him a smirk saturated with smugness before pulling on the fishing rod and smoothly reeling in a mammoth-sized trout that she gladly swung over towards him. Jack grasped the squirming creature and worked skillfully to remove the lure and hook from its flesh before depositing it into the small ice chest he had brought onboard with him earlier. He then allowed himself another small, half smile to see that she had already baited the rod and had swung it out again before resuming her previous leisurely position. Jack leaned over the side to rinse his hands just as his stomach let forth an almighty growl that evoked a peal of gleeful laughter from his companion.

"Unless you happen to have hidden skills as a sushi master, Jack, I suggest you take a look inside the basket that Dot packed."

Jack dutifully complied, pulling the basket forward and onto his lap as he assessed its contents. No doubt, Mr Butler and Miss Williams had prepared the contents with him in mind, which truly touched him. He then removed the carefully packed sandwiches and unwrapped one to pass over to Miss Fisher before he began to tuck into his own. This was far preferable to the dried biscuits he had packed for an afternoon spent on the waters. The two of them enjoyed the impromptu picnic without the need to break their shared tranquility with words. Around the time when Jack was blissfully savouring his second slice of Victorian sponge cake, Phryne had reeled in another sizable catch and sent the line back out into the quiet lake.

"It was one of our favourite ways to keep occupied back then," she began softly, staring into the water as though it held a portal into her past. "We learned how to make our own fishing poles, and she was especially good at it. In spite of her deceptively petite size, she could haul in the biggest catches. I think we only managed to stay nourished during some of the leaner days because of our many forays to the river."

Jack immediately knew she was speaking of her sister, Janey, whom he suspected was never far from her thoughts even though Phryne was so adept at masking it during her interactions with others. He felt honoured that she trusted him enough to share these precious, albeit bittersweet anecdotes with him. Without warning, a rush of righteous anger caused him to clench his hands at the weight of anxiety she must have been carrying as a result of Marigold Brown's death, and now, this mess with the media dredging everything up again for her.

"I'm sure she would have been every bit remarkable at everything she attempted… just like her older sister." He quickly unclenched his hands and relaxed when he felt first her gaze and then her hand settling gently on his knee.

"Thank you, Jack."

He searched her eyes and his heart smarted at the unshed tears and untold edges of grief and fear that threatened to erupt from behind her normally exuberant exterior. Using his own gaze as a conduit for his own thoughts, Jack lifted his own hand to cover hers as a reminder that he was there to help her unload and share her burdens if she needed him. A slight breeze decided to join them at that moment, jostling their vessel a few inches, but neither paid any heed. Eventually, Jack reached out his other hand to brush back a lock of her tousled hair that had escaped from her hat. The haunted look instantly evaporated from her expression at the sensation of his simple gesture, transforming instantly into an unmistakably different expression of longing all together. Gradually, the space between them shrank further and further until he could feel the puffs of her rapid breathing against his face drawing his gaze to those magnetizing lips.

"Quickly, Jack!"

The whooshing sound of the fishing line abruptly yanked the two of them out of their bubble along with the rod, which would have disappeared into the lake if not for Phryne's lightning-fast reflexes. She whirled about and dove over the side of the boat to grab it with both hands, just as Jack anchored his feet against the boat's floorboards before lunging over to wrap his arms around her tightly to prevent her from plunging overboard. The boat rocked precariously, and thankfully, it only took less than a minute before she had reeled in the culprit almost responsible for their near capsizing whilst Jack continued to hold her steadily.

"Remind me to bring you along to my next fishing expedition, Inspector Robinson," she instructed him with a flick of her head. "You're rather useful."

"Um, thank you." He then sheepishly unwound his arms from her waist, clearing his throat as he sat back onto his seat before handling the latest addition to their dinner menu. "Sorry, I was just trying to steady you."

"Steady me any time, Inspector." She then placed the fishing pole down on the wooden interior of the boat and continued to watch him grapple with the squirming perch.

"Perhaps we should think about returning to shore now, Miss Fisher." He cleared his throat loudly. "I think we have more than enough of a supply for our dinner later."

"Roger that, Captain, very happy to return to being a 'landlubber' again." She then smartly saluted him before settling back into her seat.

Jack again took up the oars and began to stroke through the water back towards the embankment nearest the hut. Phryne jumped out soon as the boat hit the shore, and held the bow steady as Jack passed over the lunch basket to her. He then followed suit and busied himself with securing the craft to his mooring pole before dragging it further onto the land. After stowing his fishing gear on the front porch, he hauled the ice chest containing Miss Fisher's bounty and ducked inside the modest structure.

A quick glance about the main room that housed a single bed, a small table and set of chairs that he himself had carved didn't reveal any sign of the lady detective. She also hadn't availed herself of the tiny water closet. By the process of elimination, Jack headed straight through to the other door leading to the hut's porch that was technically an overhanging dock that opened onto the lake. He put down the chest and leaned against the frame for several seconds, simply taking in the sight of her comfortably ensconced in his favourite rocking chair with the copy of Pride and Prejudice he had just started to re-read the evening before.

"'You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure,'" she read out loud with a hum of approval before shading her eyes to look over towards him. "I think Jane Austen and I could have been kindred spirits, Jack."

"Of that I have absolutely no doubt considering she was also known to be a lady of notable wit and intelligence."

He then proceeded to bend over and began pulling off first his shoes followed by his socks, which he placed just inside the door. Phryne made no effort to curb her piqued curiosity and simply craned her neck to watch in surprise as the usually buttoned-up man before her began to roll up first one then the other leg of his trousers all the way up to his knees. Before she could comment, he disappeared back inside the hut for less than a minute before emerging with a knife and large tin. She continued to gape at him as he then proceeded to roll up his shirt sleeves before taking a seat near her feet and dangling his own over the dock's edge.

"Unless you'd like to join me in gutting and cleaning your impressive catch, Miss Fisher, perhaps you wouldn't mind desisting from burning a hole through my lacking attire and continue reading to me?

"Only if you'd be so kind as to return the favour later, Inspector," she immediately agreed.

~oOo~

The embers from the barbecue pit sizzled out and eked out their temporary existence with a fanfare of smoke after Jack made sure to thoroughly douse the final flames that had provided them with a sumptuous feast of roast fish. He then made his way back towards his hut where he rejoined Phryne who had long since escaped her own boots and stockings to dip her own toes into the refreshing lake waters. Neither felt compelled to break the spell of their idyllic environment, especially since they had somehow managed to enjoy their afternoon together without even one reference to anything pertaining to their current mystery.

Eventually, Phryne drew up her legs and wrapped her arms around them before sneaking a glance at her partner who was still watching the remains of their bonfire. It felt absolutely wonderful just being there with Jack, the day having been a welcome gift of not having to deal with the evil culprit whose unknown whereabouts had been giving her and countless others so much grief. On his part, Jack found himself truly grateful for this unexpected opportunity to share his solitary sanctuary for the first time. He smiled softly as he felt her head suddenly nudge and then nestle against his shoulder as they continued to sit and bask in the peaceful moment with only the sounds of the flora and fauna to keep them company. But, like all good things, the inspector was also mindful that night was drawing in and their brief interlude might have to pause, not necessarily end.

"We should probably start thinking about getting you back to your cottage, Miss Fisher," he suggested, "before it gets dark."

"Have you already forgotten that I have eyes like a fox, Jack?"

He again felt his lips twitching in amusement as he recalled that very exact description that Constable Collins had included in his report from one of their earliest joint cases dealing with the Ballarat train murder.

"Not at all, Miss Fisher. I'm simply thinking of your comfort considering my humble hut only has a barely tolerable cot that I wouldn't dream of subjecting you to. I'm certain your cottage across the way must have one with much more to recommend it."

"Why, Inspector, if you were angling for an invitation to come test it out with me, you only had to say." She angled her head up to bat her eyelashes at him coquettishly before the unexpected onslaught of a yawn caught her off guard and she blinked several times.

"Phryne," he intoned in a concerned tone. "I know you must be utterly exhausted from everything that's been going on in the past few days alone. Why don't you go inside and rest? I'll keep an eye on the last of the fire, and then wake you up to walk you back to your cottage?"

"I suppose a little nap wouldn't hurt," she agreed, barely stifling another yawn, as she again burrowed her head into the convenient niche between his head and shoulder. "But, in a bit, I want to stay here just a little while longer first."

Not one to be able to deny her such a simple request, Jack simply nodded, his arm coming up around her shoulders in agreement even though he began to struggle against the myriad of sensations assaulting him at her nearness.

"Thank you for letting me stay, Jack," she spoke softly, but he instinctively knew she was referring to more than just that moment. After all, far be it for him to attempt to sway her from doing anything she didn't choose to do! "Today was exactly what the doctor ordered."

"And what would that be? To go fishing and then use a policeman's shoulder as a pillow?" He couldn't help teasing her.

"Actually, Mac referred to you more as a 'sturdy presence' that even she had come to rely upon."

"Ah, I see," Jack commented, suddenly discomfited slightly as he wondered whether he should be worried or relieved to know that the two formidable friends had been discussing him together.

"I've learnt that one ought to follow her prescriptions very seriously, you know."

"Very wise advice, Miss Fisher," he confirmed. "I would never deem to disregard anything Dr MacMillan had to say."

At her lack of response, Jack tilted his head to look down at her, and felt slightly exasperated, but mostly charmed to find that she had nodded off against his shoulder. The incredibly powerful urge to kiss her in that moment overwhelmed him to the point where he had to forcefully remind himself that such an ungentlemanly gesture would never do. Ironically, Jack knew she would most likely berate him for daring to steal a kiss at that moment only because she was not alert enough to participate. Instead, he managed to position himself in order to lift her up into his arms and carefully made his way back inside. In a few strides, he reached the cot where he carefully laid her down and gently draped the warm cover over her. She instantly curled up onto her side with a contented sound that again did odd things to his heart.

Shaking his head, the inspector respectfully left her alone to rest and returned outside to his rocking chair. His mind was too full to take up the novel they had been reading to each other. Instead, he reached into his satchel nearby and pulled out a pen and notebook that he used for non work-related notes. Tapping the end of the pen against one hand, Jack sat and pondered for awhile. And then, he began to write.