Author's note: at the request of several reviewers, a chapter on Phryne showing her 'exhibitionist side'. I loved writing this, but at times doubted a bit if I was staying true to the characters, whether this was really something she would do. But then I thought: fan dance.

Enjoy, and if you can, please review and let me know what you think!

Jack put down the phone and sighed.
'A woman was shot on the pier,' he explained to Miss Fisher, who had been standing next to him while he was talking to the station. 'Then fell off, into the sea. She didn't drown, so she was dead before she hit the water. The problem is, we have no idea who she is. Nothing was found to identify her. If she's not reported missing soon, we'll have a hard time solving this. The thing is…' He frowned. 'I get the feeling that the constable on duty did a rather bad job of looking around the crime scene. I feel like he hasn't been very thorough… Might have missed something…'
Phryne looked up at him with a delighted grin. 'Well Jack, you know what that means?'
'Do I want to know?'
'A day at the beach!'
'See, I didn't want to know.'
'The weather is just perfect.'
'But… it's my day off…'
'And it's the beach, Jack! Come on, it'll be fun!'
'Why don't I believe that?' he grumbled, but she was already pulling on her coat, and he knew that this was one battle he wouldn't win. Moreover, he really did feel like he needed to look around that crime scene. So he got his hat and coat and together they got into the car and drove to the seaside.

It was a warm day, with a cloudless sky and hardly any wind. Luckily, they both had the foresight to leave their hats and coats in the car, but still, Jack was soon feeling much too hot in his customary three-piece suit. Phryne, on the other hand, looked perfectly comfortable in a light blouse and skirt, and was clearly enjoying the long walk over the sand to the pier that was their crime scene. Jack frowned when they arrived – the scene was no longer secured by the police and people had already trampled all over it. Apparently the officer on duty had felt that the place would offer them no more clues, but this would make their work much more difficult. They walked up and down the pier, noticing nothing of interest. By then, Jack was feeling distinctly uncomfortable in his warm clothes, and Phryne seemed to notice. 'Jack, why don't you take off at least some layers of clothing. Honestly, only you would come to the beach wearing a suit. It's perfectly ridiculous.'
'Well, seeing as we were coming here on a police investigation, I…' He suddenly broke off as he noticed that her hands were undoing the buttons of his jacket.
'Miss Fisher, are you seriously undressing me in public?'
She laughed. 'Well, someone needs to, before you overheat.'
He pushed her hands away, looking around furtively. 'I can take it from here, Miss Fisher, thank you.'
She gave him a coquettish look from underneath her eyelashes. 'Well… if you insist, Inspector.'

Jacket over his arm, Jack suggested they take a look underneath the pier, but there was nothing to be found there, either. As they emerged again, Phryne sighed and stared out at the waves. Suddenly her eyes narrowed, and she pointed to an object floating on the surface of the water.
'Jack, look! There!'
Before he had time to react, she had kicked off her shoes and was wading into the water.
'Wait… what…' he spluttered, appalled. 'What in heaven's name are you doing? Get back here!'
But she had already found what she was looking for. Now waist-deep in the water, she triumphantly waved what looked like a leather-bound little book in the air. 'I've got something!'
She waded back to the beach, where he was waiting for her with a furious expression.
'Acting without thinking again, Miss Fisher!'
'It wasn't far out, Jack, and I'm an excellent swimmer.'
'I wasn't talking about that! Look at yourself, you're all wet!'
She flashed him a very wicked grin. 'Usually you don't object to that, Inspector.'
He rolled his eyes at the innuendo, not in the mood for games. 'You need dry clothes.'
'A very shrewd observation. Well then, let's get back to the car, and go home. I don't think we'll find any more clues here.'
But as she started to walk back along the beach, he suddenly noticed how her thin, wet clothes were clinging to her body in a way that was much too suggestive. In fact, she was attracting rather a lot of attention from the other beachgoers, especially the men. He quickly went to stand in front of her.
'No, I don't think so, Miss Fisher. Better stay here for a while until you're… a little drier.'
'Yes, good idea, Jack. I wouldn't want to ruin my upholstery by getting seawater all over it.'
And she promptly started to roll down her stockings to put them out to dry on the sand. He felt a little uncomfortable about her performing such a private act in the middle of a fairly crowed beach, and he again looked around furtively to check if many people noticed. They did.

He turned back to Phryne, who was of course completely unfazed. 'Miss Fisher…' he started carefully, with the intention of suggesting that she had better put her stockings back on before people started to talk. However, she distracted him by straightening up and pushing the salvaged book into his hands. 'I think it's a diary. Take a look at it.'
He opened the book carefully. It did indeed look like a diary. Even though it was waterlogged, and the ink had run in most places, he thought it might still be possible to decipher enough to give them some clues as to the identity of the victim. He looked up to tell her that, and his mouth fell open in horror.
Oh God, she was not taking off her blouse! But she was, calmly unbuttoning the front and shrugging it off to reveal a silk white camisole underneath. He felt himself go extremely red and instantly took his jacket from his arm to hold it open in front of her, trying to shield her from view from three sides at once.
'What – are – you – doing?!' he hissed through gritted teeth.
She looked up at him with an infuriating expression of being completely reasonable. 'What? You said we should stay here until my clothes were dry – I don't want to sit here all afternoon – and clothes dry faster when laid out in the sun. So I'm taking them off.' And she proceeded to neatly step out of her skirt. She was now only dressed in her slip and her camisole, which had a silk little skirt attached to it that reached to just below her buttocks. God help him, she would be the death of him.

'Put your clothes back on!' he growled urgently, looking over his shoulder to throw a very angry look at a couple of young men who were walking by and seemed very interested.
'Oh come on, Jack, this is practically the same as wearing a bathing suit.'
'But it's not your bathing suit, it's your underwear! And people are starting to notice!'
She followed his gaze to the young men, threw them a flirty look over her shoulder and waved. They instantly turned crimson and hurried away. 'See? Nothing to worry about.'
By now he was ready to explode. However, he knew perfectly well that she was doing this to provoke him more than anything else, and getting angry would only be counterproductive. So he tried to take a calming breath, before saying firmly: 'Right. Well then, take my jacket, and sit down until your things are dry.'
'Fine,' she said, taking the jacket from him, spreading it out on the sand, and sitting down on top of it, stretching out luxuriously in the warm sunlight. That was the last straw.
He kneeled down next to her, looked at her darkly and said in a very soft, very dangerous voice: 'Miss Fisher, if, in about five minutes, I drop dead of an apoplexy, please realize that it will be entirely your doing. I meant for you to get under the jacket – as you know perfectly well – and if you don't do so immediately, I will charge you with public indecency.'
She looked at him challengingly for a long moment, then finally, miraculously, she gave in. She rolled her eyes at him, but got up so he could take the jacket. He brushed off the sand. 'Sit down.' She did as she was told, and he draped the jacket around her shoulders. 'Now pull up your knees.' She hugged her knees to her chest, so he could envelop her entirely in the jacket. 'And hold it closed. Agreed?' She nodded, and he finally felt able to relax again. With a sigh of relief, he dropped down onto the sand next to her. 'This is absolutely the last time I'm taking you to the beach.'
She grinned.

They looked out at the ocean for a moment without speaking, then she slightly turned her head to look at him.
'Why did you react so…'
But he cut off the question immediately. 'Because it's not decent. You're a lady.'
She pouted. 'Sometimes it's very boring to be a lady.'
He snorted. 'Forgive me for not feeling sorry for you. I don't feel like you let your title get in the way of your enjoyment of life very often.'
She gave a satisfied smile. 'Well, yes, I suppose that's true.'
They stared at the waves for a while in companionable silence, until Jack noticed that she had crept almost imperceptibly closer, so that they were now almost shoulder to shoulder. He knew that look.
'Public place, Miss Fisher', he said in a warning tone, refusing to look at her.
She leaned against him, and his eye was caught by a glimpse of white as his jacket slid down to reveal an ivory shoulder, and a strap of lacy lingerie. He swallowed, but kept his face as dispassionate as possible as he reached over to cover her up again. She nuzzled his neck.
'Stop it.'
'Come on, Jack, there's no harm in showing some affection in public.'
He looked down at her to explain exactly why that notion was wrong in all possible ways, but he never got the chance, as she suddenly turned up her face and kissed him full on the lips.

He drew back instantly, and she laughed at the look of utter confusion on his face. 'See! You're still alive, and your reputation untarnished.'
'How do you know that?' he grumbled.
'Because the beach is nearly empty by now.'
He looked around, and saw that it was true. It was getting late in the afternoon, and most people were starting to head home. Phryne nestled close to him and looked up at him with those irresistible blue eyes.
'There's almost nobody left…' she suggested playfully, but he resisted the temptation.
'Almost nobody is not nobody, Miss Fisher', he stated firmly.
'You're too much concerned with what other people think, Inspector.'
'And you are too little concerned with what other people think. It's only natural, I suppose. You have your assured position in society, thanks to your wealth, your title, your connections. But I have a reputation to think of, a job that I need to keep.'
She looked contrite for a moment. 'I'm sorry.'
He gave a one-sided smile. 'Don't be, it only confuses me.'
She smiled, and reached over to feel her clothes. 'I think they're nearly dry now, maybe I can put them back on and…' But her words were cut off by a sudden gust of wind that lifted the light pieces of cloth and blew the blouse right from between her fingers.
She exclaimed 'Oh!', and next thing he knew, she had thrown off the jacket and was running down the beach in her underwear, chasing down the blouse and laughing like a child.
He allowed himself a moment to look towards the heavens in exasparation, then got up, snatched up the jacket, and sprinted after her.

The wind blew the blouse under the pier, and that was where she caught it, and he caught her. They tumbled down onto the sand, both out of breath, Phryne still laughing so delightedly he didn't have the heart to scold her. He simply covered her up with the jacket again, and tried to get up, but she pulled him down, wrapping her arms around his neck.
'Phryne…' he protested, looking around in alarm, but she shushed him.
'Look, Jack. It's almost sunset. Everyone has gone home.'
She was quite right. The beach was deserted by now. He still wasn't entirely comfortable.
'Someone might still walk by…' he suggested feebly, but she would no longer accept his excuses.
'I'm willing to risk it', she said with a look full of longing, as she drew him down for another kiss, and this time he allowed himself to kiss her back. The setting sun was throwing long shadows, and underneath the pier it was almost quite dark already. He knew they would probably not be noticed from a distance. Nevertheless, he couldn't help looking around again, just to be sure.
'Jack,' she whispered, 'you worry too much. You need to learn to relax sometimes. Nobody will be walking on the beach after sunset.'
He knew she was right, and when she kissed his neck and pressed herself against him, he felt his resistance begin to crumble. He could feel the warmth and shape of her body through the thin layer of silk, and he felt his own body react in response. He pushed her down in the sand and pressed his mouth to hers, using his tongue to lightly swish past her lips, teasing, not allowing himself to get drawn in when her lips parted to give him access. He bit her bottom lip softly, then moved to kiss her throat. Meanwhile, his hands were gliding over the smooth silk covering her stomach and breasts, and she squirmed when he intentionally avoided all her sensitive spots.

'Jack!', she complained when his hand stroked the soft inside of her bare thigh, without moving upwards. He looked down at her uncertainly.
'Do you really want to do this?'
She looked up at him with a look of excitement and anticipation. 'Yes,' she whispered breathlessly. 'The open air, the breeze, the sound of the waves, don't you love it? It's so different from what we're used to, don't you think that's exhilarating? The setting sun, the warm sand…'
'The chance of getting caught…'
She grinned up at him. 'Almost non-existent at this point. And…' she pressed her body against his in a most alluring way and whispered: 'don't you think that rather adds to the excitement?'
He wasn't sure about that last part, but by now his brain wasn't really in charge anymore. So he gave in and kissed her fiercely, and she moaned in satisfaction as he pressed his hand between her thighs. But when he moved to roll on top of her, she stopped him.
'Have you ever made love on a beach before?' she asked him.
He looked at her sarcastically. 'What do you think?'
She chose to ignore the sarcasm. 'Well, the thing is, you have to be careful about the sand not… getting places. It chafes, you see, so…'
He lost track of what she was saying for a moment as he tried very hard not to think of when (and especially, with whom) she might have had sex on a beach before. For a moment, he felt a stab of jealousy, but he pushed it away. Don't go there, he told himself firmly. After all, he knew what he was getting into when he first kissed her. And he had sworn to himself that he would take her for whom she was, with everything that entailed. And after all, he thought with an inward smile, she was here now, with him, and that was all that really mattered. He managed to focus his attention back to her just in time to hear her say 'So I think I'd better get on top.'

He blushed a bit to hear her discuss positions so openly, and she laughed.
'Jack, you have taken me in about every possible way, but you blush when I talk about it?'
He felt himself go even redder. It was different in the heat of passion. He wasn't really the kind of person to talk these things over beforehand (or afterwards), like it was something practical. He felt things should happen spontaneously. But Phryne seemed unperturbed. 'It's really the most practical if you lie on your back.'
He did so a little reluctantly, feeling slightly disinclined to relinquish his dominant position in a situation where he did not feel completely in control in the first place. But a moment later, her lithe body was on top of him, and he suddenly didn't care anymore, she was so warm and willing in his arms. She kissed him passionately, then started to move her hips against him in exquisite torture, until he felt he would go mad with his desire for her.

'Phryne,' he whispered, his voice cracking, and she promptly started to unbutton his trousers. By now it was nearly dark, but her skin was so white, she seemed almost luminous in the dusky light. He groaned when her soft fingers touched him and drew him out, caressing him for a moment. Then she lifted her hips and, still holding him to guide him in, she slowly lowered herself onto him with a soft moan. He grasped her hips tightly as she starting moving above him, loving the fact that he could look at her, watch her arch her back and throw back her head in ecstasy.
He enjoyed the view for several longs moments, before he pulled her down on top of him, both because he felt she was too conspicuous sitting up, and because he wanted to feel her. He kissed her, tangling one hand into her hair, running the other down her back, enjoying the feel of smooth silk. He then let both hands wander to her hips again, found her buttocks, and cupped them firmly, which allowed him some control over the pace she was setting. She buried her head against his shoulder and murmured huskily 'Oh, Jack!'
He felt a great stab of excitement to hear her say his name like that, and he bucked his hips to take her deeper, making her gasp. She tilted her hips; suddenly she was so very tight around him, and he pressed into her hard, groaning as he tried to control himself. He didn't need to wait long. The increased pressure was making her moan, and he felt her muscles tense as she arched her back. He held off for a few more strokes, until he felt her clench around him and heard her cry out, holding on to him tightly. He allowed himself to let go, grasping her hips to pull her deeper so she enveloped him completely as he felt the glorious release sweep through him.

She collapsed on top of him, and he loved to feel the weight of her body on his, loved that he could wrap his arms around her and caress her softly. He closed his eyes contentedly, feeling that he could just stay like this all night. After a while, though, a cool breeze blew under the pier, and he felt her start to shiver. He wrapped her closer in his arms, but at the same time he opened his eyes and said, 'We should get you dressed – finally.'
She gave him a lazy smile and rolled off him to look for her blouse. He buttoned up his trousers, then ducked out from under the pier to retrieve her skirt and stockings, which were still lying where she had left them out to dry. When she was fully dressed again, they stood for a moment together next to the pier to gaze up at the night sky, where millions of stars were visible. She leaned her head against his shoulder and he put his arm around her waist, thinking that it really wasn't so bad to make love on a beach, or to take a risk every now and then. Well… a carefully calculated risk, that is. He kissed the top of her head, and together they started walking back towards the car.