There was no question of where Jack would end up that night. The end of a case meant drinks in Phryne's parlour, and Mr. Butler showed no surprise when he opened the door to find the Inspector waiting outside. "Is Miss Fisher in?"
The man smiled. "To you, sir, Miss Fisher is always in."
The approval on her butler's face reflected the expression he had seen on Collins' earlier that day, after he had walked Phryne back out to her car. "By the way, sir," the young man had whispered when he came back into the station, "I know it isn't really my place, but, well done, sir."
He had been unable to keep the smile off his own face. "You're right, it really isn't your place," he had replied, "but thank you, Collins."
And now here he was, back in Phryne's parlour where all this had started. Was it really only three days ago? Three days to swing from heartache to passion to a deep sense of belonging and love and contentment as Phryne rose from her chair by the fire and padded in bare feet to meet him and twine herself in his arms.
"Inspector Robinson, how lovely to see you," she purred, and he smiled and kissed her deeply.
"I seem to recall agreeing to something about a reward, if you behaved yourself at the station. And since you were so very good..." he ran his hands down her body and gently but firmly grasped her buttocks, drawing a squeak of startled pleasure from her lips "... I've come to keep my promise."