Author's note: Just a short fluffy piece of smut to complement the last chapter :) A little interlude, say. Bigger things in the works, but this was nice after all the angst.
Enjoy!
Jack dropped the last of the files on the stack with a relieved sigh. It had taken him all morning, but he was finally caught up on his paperwork. Now he was waiting for a report from the morgue that would hopefully give him the information he needed to continue his investigation, because so far he had hit dead ends everywhere. He frowned at his watch. It was only noon, and he knew he couldn't expect the report before three, which meant that he had some time to kill until then. He wondered if he might not drive over and see Phryne for a couple of hours - after all, he would probably work late tonight, so he would make up for missed time then. Yes, he decided, he would go and have lunch with Phryne. She would probably be able to distract him from the frustration he felt over this case, and of course there was the added bonus of Mr. Butler's cooking. Smiling, he got up, took his coat and hat, informed Hugh that he would be gone for a few hours, and walked to his car.
Phryne had been at a dinner party the night before, so he had spent the night at his own house. Since their fight on the night of his brother's visit, about a week ago now, Phryne had obligingly stayed home for a couple of nights, refraining from going out for his sake, he knew, and he was grateful, because their new understanding still felt a little fragile. But he knew he couldn't expect her to keep from going out forever. When she had casually invited him to the dinner party a few nights ago, he realized very well that he couldn't possibly ask her not to go. He had considered going with her, then decided that she would probably take that as a sign that he didn't trust her, so he had put aside his feeling of unease, and told her that he had to work, but she was free to go without him. She had seemed relieved and pleased, which told him that he had made the right decision, and to his surprise he had realized last night that he was actually okay with it.
But – he felt stupid admitting it, even to himself – he had missed her last night. They had been very close all week, sharing a new sense of connection now things were clearer between them, and they had stayed up late every night, talking and making love, enjoying each other's company. Now that she had finally verbalized her commitment to their relationship, she seemed newly uninhibited in demonstrating her affection for him in many small ways – a hand on his arm, kissing him on the cheek at inappropriate times and locations, even putting her head on his shoulder once or twice. And while he pretended not to notice most of the time, or even to get annoyed when she kissed him on the lips in front of a flustered Hugh, he really loved these small daily gestures. It wasn't that she was suddenly clingy – they were a far cry from that – but rather that she had somewhat let go of her fierce show of independence and her aloofness when it came to anything but the physical aspect of their relationship. Slowly but surely, he felt, she was letting him in.
All in all, he looked forward to seeing her for a couple of hours and discussing the case with her. Therefore, he was disappointed when the door was opened not by Phryne, but by Mr. Butler, who informed him that Miss Fisher had come home very late and was still sleeping. Frowning slightly, he considered going back to the station, then decided that she had slept quite late enough.
'Shall I wake her, Inspector, and tell her you're here?' the butler inquired.
'Yes,' he replied, then immediately changed his mind. 'No, wait, I'll wake her myself.'
Mr. Butler inclined his head politely and retreated to the kitchen, while Jack took off his coat and hat and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. He opened the door very quietly, stepping into the gloom of the heavy-curtained room. As his eyes adjusted to the half-light, he could see her silhouette under the blankets, sprawled out between the pillows, and the slow sound of her breathing told him she was still fast asleep. He had intended to be firm with her: open the curtains and wake her with a few teasing remarks, but the dusky, sleepy atmosphere of the room affected his mood, and he felt a sudden pull toward the bed, with its soft pillows, its warmth, and the delight of a sleeping Phryne. She looked so sweet, a slight smile on her lips as if she was having a pleasant dream. How could he resist?
Without a sound, Jack took off his shoes, jacket and, on second thought, his shirt as well, and folded the garments neatly so he wouldn't have to show up at the station with rumpled clothes. Then, he crawled between the sheets, shivering with pleasure as he settled into the warm little nest she had made, and he lay down close behind her, putting an arm around her waist and molding his body to fit hers. She was still so soundly asleep that she didn't even properly wake up – she just smiled and sounded a soft, sleepy sigh of contentment as she settled back into him, seeming unsurprised to suddenly find herself in his arms. He held her gently, careful not to wake her, as the regular rhythm of her breathing calmed him down until he felt relaxed and happy, and he considered doing something he never did, and take a nap. But then she moved and stretched luxuriously, her loose-fitting camisole opening on the side to reveal the curve of an ivory breast, and the corner of his mouth pulled down as his thoughts turned to other possibilities.
Slowly, he started stroking the smooth silk covering her stomach, then moved his hand up to cup a breast. She stirred slightly, but when his fingers found her nipple, she quickly pushed his hand away. He smiled. She wasn't a morning person at the best of times, but especially not when she hadn't slept enough, which he suspected was the case here. He tried again, teasing her nipple through the silk until it hardened, but this time she curled in on herself with a little sound of protest, raising her arms in front of her chest. Nevertheless, he saw that she was still smiling, so he was undeterred – he didn't mind a little challenge, though he realized that he would have to adjust his strategy. He moved his hand back to her stomach, holding her close to him, and she relaxed again. After a while, he gently started nuzzling her, moving his lips softly over her neck and shoulder, very slowly, letting his warm breath play over her skin. With his fingers, he caressed her bare arm, and she smiled and moved closer to his warmth. He didn't press his advantage, but kept up his light caresses, stroking and kissing unhurriedly, waiting patiently for her to respond, knowing that it probably wouldn't take very long.
And indeed, after a few minutes she started stirring slightly, pressing herself to him. Though her eyes were still closed, her lips parted a little, and she started moving her hips ever so slightly, in a way that he knew oh so well. Keeping a tight rein on his own arousal – he knew he shouldn't rush her, he needed to take things slow if he didn't want her to push him away again – he moved his hand over her hip to stroke her thigh, then up again between her breasts.
'Jack,' she whispered, her voice a sleepy murmur. 'I'm sleeping.'
But she was still making slight circular movements with her hips, so he didn't pay her too much mind. He nuzzled her ear as he cupped a breast again.
'Do you want me to stop?' he asked quietly, then lightly brushed her hardened nipple with his thumb, and she sighed softly with pleasure.
'No,' she breathed, and touched his hand to indicate that he should continue.
He took his time, running his hand slowly over her body, awakening her skin to his touch until she hummed slightly, smiling. He kissed her neck as he stroked her breasts, careful with her sensitive nipples so he wouldn't wake her up too suddenly. He liked her like this, half asleep, warm and supple and pliant under his hands.
Still kissing her shoulder, her neck, the soft spot behind her ear, he let his hand wander downwards and slipped it between her thighs, to stroke her through the silk of her underwear. The movement of his fingers was smooth and gentle, and she responded by making small, sleepy sounds of pleasure that made him smile. 'Cute' was not an adjective that was generally applicable to Phryne, but she was very cute now, he thought, keeping up his caresses. He wanted to be closer to her, but they were already skin to skin. When asked her to lift her head, she did so lazily, and he slipped his other arm around her, for her to rest her head on, so he could hold her properly. Meanwhile, she had opened her thighs to him, and though her eyes were still closed, he knew she was ready.
He undid his pants buttons a little clumsily with one hand, quickly deciding that it would be too much trouble to go through the laborious process of taking off his pants completely. Her slip was loose-fitting, so he didn't bother trying to take that off, either – he simply drew aside the fabric, then guided himself to her. Matching the situation and the mood, he pressed in slowly, unhurriedly, closing his eyes at the bliss of it all, as she sounded a sigh of pleasure and reached back to tangle her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. When he had pushed completely inside her, he stayed still for a moment, just to enjoy that moment of connection, as close together as they could possibly be, and she was so soft and warm, he felt for one blissful, dazed instant as if she was melting into him, or he was melting into her, and the thought of ever being apart was absurd.
But then she moved her hips with a soft moan and he was pulled back to reality as he slowly started moving, hugging her close to him, his face buried in her hair, breathing in her smell. His hand moved around her hip again as he kept up a lazy rhythm, and he slipped it underneath the silk of her camisole in search of a nipple, pinching it slightly to make her gasp. Teasingly slow, he let his hand slide down her stomach until his fingers encountered soft curls, and she uttered a strangled little 'oh' as he settled on the right spot. He let his fingers move in time with their languid movements, to build the tension slowly, keeping her balanced on the edge for a seeming eternity, and as time blurred in the warm, close semi-darkness, the outside world seemed like a strange and distant dream. He wished it could last forever, but finally his self-restraint began to wear out, and he picked up the pace ever so slightly, pressing in deeper, his fingers moving quicker, and her breath was coming fast as she pushed her hips back into him, one hand on his, keeping him there, right there, and he felt her begin to tremble, moaning, her hand in his hair tightening almost painfully. With a sharp gasp, he suddenly lost control as he grasped her even tighter and pushed in deep, again, and again, until they both shuddered and lay still, shaking slightly with the aftershocks.
After several breathless moments, she disengaged herself and turned to curl up against his chest. He held her, sleepily content. Perhaps now would be a good time for that nap. But the fuzzy little rays of sunlight sneaking in through the chinks in the curtains alerted him once more to the fact that there was, indeed, a world outside of their bedroom, and as his mind cleared he realized with a sinking feeling that he would have to get up soon to return to the station. Minute after warm, comfortable minute he kept putting off the unpleasant moment where he would have to get out from between the sheets – the fact that Phryne could and probably would stay in bed and doze on peacefully did not make things easier. Finally he told himself sternly that he should man up, and gently moved his arm out from under her head, kissed her hair one last time – she merely stirred, already fast asleep again – then got out of the bed and started dressing again.
At the door, he threw her one last look and smiled. She was sleeping on soundly, like nothing had happened, and he wondered if she would wake up later and think that it had been just a dream. He wanted to leave her something, some sign… Looking around the bedroom, he spotted a vase full of flowers on a little table near the window, and he quickly strode over and took out a small red rose, still tightly curled in on itself, and put it on the pillow next to her. Shaking his head at his own sentimentality, but happy with the gesture all the same, he quietly left the room. Walking to his car a moment later, he breathed in the fresh, clean air with a grin. He hadn't really noticed before what a beautiful day it was.