Author's Note: here we go again! I hope you all enjoy this installment! Please, please pretty please review! Do you love it? Hate it? Have advice? Tell me! I want to know!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed my last chapter! I really appreciate it! Special Shout Out to Ariadne04 for all the encouragement and your lovely review! Love and Karma headed your way!

"You've got to eat, Fisher." He snarled, shoving the disgusting days old, close to rotten, piece of fruit in my face.

"I told you, Henry. She don't eat nothin'." Pots called out to the man named Henry. No. Of course I wouldn't eat. I wasn't hungry. Why would I be? This disgusting ignoramus of a man came down here every day and told me all about how much he'd like to kill me or rape me all while getting himself off and not in the slightest giving me any clues as to why I was here, who his boss was, or what any actual plans for me were. In other words, in addition to being one of the most disgusting men I had ever had the misfortune to meet, he was also utterly useless.

"Shut up, Gates." Huh. So Pots' name was Gates. I liked Pots better. It suited the idiot. "Look, Miss, I don't know what this bloke has been telling you," He motioned to Pots with his elbow but looked straight into my eyes. "But we don't want to harm you. You're part of something bigger than any of us and it's a real shame you got yourself mixed up in this but if all goes well we'll all get out 'a here just fine. In order for you to do that, you've got to keep your strength up. So Miss Fisher, please. Eat something." I surveyed the man warily. Could I trust him? He seemed honest enough and I couldn't think of any reason for him to lie to me, what was I going to do to him all tied up like this? Either way, it didn't matter I suppose. I wasn't hungry. I told him as much in as few words as I could manage and Henry sighed. "As you say Miss. I'll be back down later to see if you change your mind." He started to leave but he suddenly stopped and turned back towards me. "You need to drink water, miss." I thought about that for a moment and my mind couldn't help but remind me about the scratchy dryness plaguing the back of my throat. I nodded half-heartedly and allowed Henry to tip a glass of fresh, cold water against my chapped lips, stinging me in the most pleasant way I could imagine pain to present itself. Yes it hurt, but I had begun to crave water and that pain was something I was more than content to bear for the sweet joy of drinking water. When I had taken my fill he gave me a sad smile and walked away, pulling Pots along with him.

Come on, Phryne. I thought to myself. Don't fall for this. He's acting nice, playing the good cop so that you will trust him. Don't trust him Phryne. Don't fall for this. Of course one thing led to another and the thought of 'good cop' turned into thoughts of my friends at City South, one friend in particular. Had anyone told him I was gone? Was he looking for me? Had he passed the case off, too busy solving a murder without me to bother? Or maybe he missed me. Maybe he was trying to find me. Maybe my darling inspector was beating himself up that he hadn't found me yet. That was more likely. And absolute shite. He was surely doing his best and for him to blame himself for any delays in my rescue was perfectly ludicrous. Dot and Mr. Butler were certainly caring for Jane, I had no fear on that count. Perhaps my Aunt Prudence had taken them in, away from my lovely house for fear of my captors returning for them.

I thought back to the last think I remembered before all of this. The others had all gone to bed, Dot had suggested that I too retire. The men at City South will be busy tonight, paperwork from the last murder we'd solved, she'd said. Hugh hadn't thought the Inspector would have time to come over, she'd said. But I'd stayed up. Just in case. It wouldn't do for him to come knocking and not be there to answer. I'd had whiskey set out, the fire burning low, and I'd been wearing something he could certainly find a reason to admire. Still was wearing that. But now it hung awkwardly, torn, dirty, and limp around me in the most unflattering manner. I'd been waiting and waiting. Surely he'd come to me. He always had. We'd enjoy each other's company over perfectly aged brown liquor and we'd talk about any and every matter under the sun, things I couldn't discuss with anyone else, and then when there was nothing to say, we were perfectly content to look into one another's eyes and imagine everything that could have been were we any other people in this world. Who we were drew us together in a way more powerful than anything else on earth, and yet who we were kept us from being together. I couldn't bear to ask him to change, because it was the very essence of who he was that made me love him. Yes. I loved him. More than life itself. And I was certain he wasn't neutral towards me. There were feelings I had never felt before, a relationship that I had never dreamed possible between us. And I loved him, my silly, perfect detective. A man like no other. Certainly if there was a God in heaven, he had broken the mold on Jack Robinson for how could there be another, how could there be anyone as perfect in the world?

"Daydreaming away, Your Honorableness?" Oh dear lord what had I done to deserve this worldly joy? Pots was back. "Don't worry me like that, m'lady. It looked for a moment as thought you might be happy. Can't have that, can we?" a hard slap came from nowhere, breaking my already too dry lips in three places and scratching a gash over my cheekbone. Then his face was inches from mine, his rancid breath filling my nose. I vomited in my mouth, not enough to spit on the fool but enough to disgust me even further.

"What were ya' dreamin' about, then?" he asked with a snarl. "That pretty little girl of yours? The one with the pretty blonde braids." A low snarl escaped my lips at the thought of him being anywhere near Jane. "Or maybe that friend of yours, the one who don't know nothing 'bout what's between a man's legs? I could teach her, o'course." Anger turned to fury in an instant and I nearly forgot I was tied up and helpless. "Nah, I suspect your dreamin' bout that pretty beau of yours. Him rescuing you, and you thanking him the only way a slut like you knows how." Jack. Did this have something to do with Jack? His words about "my beau" seemed to hold more weight than the others. He seemed almost bitter about Jack. He seemed like he really knew something about Jack. Intuition alone it may be, no evidence to back me up, but a handful of words, and I was certain my capture had something to do with Jack Robinson.

Oh God in Heaven, I know I don't deserve my prayers to be heard but please let nothing bad befall him. Divorced he may be, but he is truly the best of men and the exact sort of person who deserves all that is good. Don't let these cretins harm him. Please God. Protect him. Protect Jack Robinson.

Hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned-More coming soon! Also please review! – XOXO - E