The party passed as all did in the Fisher household: happily. The opulent yet cozy home glittered gold and twinkled with laughter and the passing of copious amounts of champagne. It was just another of Miss Fisher's affectations, to celebrate Christmas in July. After concluding a particularly terrifying case, the entire group was keen to celebrate no matter how off the season. Jane, profoundly happy to be home, hovered between Miss Fisher and Dot, occasionally curling her fingers into their sleeves and resting her head on their shoulders. Miss Fisher wasn't the type to hide things from Jane and she had recounted - in excruciating detail - the entire case to her young ward. Unflappable Jane had taken it all in stride but she seemed keen to stay close to the two most important women in her life.

Detective Inspector Jack Robinson watched in fascination as Miss Fisher - Phryne - reached up and cupped the cheek of her young ward as the girl rested against her side. It was a thoughtlessly gentle gesture that made Jack wonder if Phryne really - really - had no maternal instinct as she claimed. Perhaps she had no desire to be a mother, but she certainly had a great capacity to care for others. The motley crew gathered in her parlor was evidence to the big heart that beat beneath the haute couture.

Midnight neared and slowly the party goers began to fade. Bert and Cec were the first to take their leave, tipping their hats to the other guests and stopping to kiss their employer on the cheek. Not long after, Dot escorted Hugh to the front door and the young man stopped and looked askance at his Detective Inspector. A shake of Jack's head had Hugh dipping his chin and swallowing his grin as he followed Dot out of the parlor. Jane asked to be excused and gave hugs all around, including a surprised Jack who found his arms full of teenager. Miss Fisher pressed a kiss to Jane's forehead, leaving a bright red smear of lipstick, before shooing her to help Mac move Aunt Prudence upstairs to a guest room. Despite the older matriarch's insistence that she was not in fact drunk, her high pitched giggles as she missed a step said otherwise

When Dottie returned, pink-cheeked and grinning, she bid goodnight to Phryne and Jack before retiring to the kitchen to help Mr. Butler finish up the last of the evening chores.

"Leave it to the morning." Phryne called after them, knowing full well they wouldn't. Instead she released a sigh and dropped to a seat on the settee beside Jack before clinking her glass to his. "Merry Christmas, Jack."

"Merry Christmas, Phryne." He felt himself listing sideways to bump her shoulder as he finished off his drink. She bumped back affectionately before taking his glass and setting it aside.

They sat in silence for long moments, listening to the clock in the hall tick steadily, the low rumble of Dot and Mr Butler in the kitchen, and the muffled sounds of the group upstairs. It wasn't long until the entire house fell into its own version of silence, and still they sat. Jack wondered when, exactly, his silences with Miss Fisher had become so companionable.

He felt a tap on his finger and looked down to see Miss Fisher's - Phryne's - fingers gently dancing against his. Her arms were crossed over her knees and her movements would have seemed lazy if not for the intent way she looked down where their fingers met. The sharp curve of her hair fell forward to obscure her face as she continued to trace over Jack's limp hand with her finger.

Not that long ago it would have occurred to Jack that he should run - like hell - out of the house and into the night. That being with Miss Fisher was infinitely more dangerous than being alone, and that he ran the risk of losing his heart to her especially under the cover of night with her lightly scented body tucked so firmly at his side. But those truths had slowly been replaced by others. He'd already lost the war with Miss Fisher - Phryne - and had lost his heart as well. He was comforted by the fact that it seemed, at least a bit, like she was losing hers as well.

"You're awfully quiet." She murmured, and lack of speaking made her voice deliciously raspy.

"There isn't much to say." He caught her wandering fingers and held on, giving them a gentle squeeze. He felt her sag beside him briefly before lifting her gaze to his, and he could see the witty remark poised on those red lips.

"Well then. Good-" and she was cut off as Jack's face swooped close to hers, lips stopping mere millimeters from hers. Her studied smile widened into something more genuine and without hesitation she closed the gap.

The flick of her tongue against the corner of his mouth and it was as though Jack had been lit on fire. He gasped and the kiss, which had been intended as a gentle first-time press of lips, turned into something else entirely.

Leave it to Phryne, he thought, before her fingers curled into the hair behind his ears and he couldn't think at all anymore.

When Jack sent Phryne out of his investigations - and therefore his life - the worldly wise woman was reminded of a profound truth from her early life.

There were things far worse than losing what you wanted; it was distinctly more devastating to lose what you didn't know you needed.

And Jack had become just that - a necessity. She hated to be cliche, but whether he liked it or not, Jack Robinson had become the much-required ballast on the HMAS Calamity that was Phryne Fisher's life. So she had accepted what he was willing to allow, grasping greedily at the bits of him he would share, and set aside all true hopes for more.

She wasn't by nature a particularly jealous woman. Women as a gender had it hard enough without sabotaging one another and it seemed dangerous to begrudge other women what they had when she could just go out and find her own. So it was terribly unfamiliar to feel the pang in her chest as she watched Jack cross the space to his wife - ex-wife - and take her in his arms easily.

To have Jack - physically - would have been easy, she realized. But the part of him she most treasured, the part that warmed her and protected her, the essence of his goodness, would have been lost in the deal. A willing body was something she could get anywhere. She wouldn't ask Jack to betray himself to satisfy their - mutual, she was sure - lust. She couldn't bear to betray him that way, and so she had gone. Left him in the arms of his wife - yes, wife - and returned to her home alone.

Imagine her surprise when he showed up hours later on her porch, a lost stray with every intention of making his way inside. Soulful eyes gone gray in the porchlight, he slid past her gingerly with his hat in his hands and his usually inscrutable face was even more conflicted. Phryne steeled herself for his infuriatingly gentle way of letting her down easy and instead took the initiative to tell him she appreciated that he always did the right thing.

The look in his eye as he took an assured step towards her set her skin to burning immediately, and the rush of heat in her chest made her breath catch.

Oh.

Aunt Prudence may have interrupted, but it was too late.

Everything in that moment - everything - had changed.

It was Phryne's moan that somehow reached Jack's senses through the rushing in his ears. When he moved to pull his mouth from hers she followed him hungrily, looping her arm around his neck and pulling him until they slid from the settee onto the floor. The sudden shift in position effectively stalled them for a moment and Jack had to look away from Phryne, reclined on her elbows beneath him, chest heaving. He had no intention of stopping now, not after he'd effectively lit the fuse, but he also needed to made a tenuous grab at control while he had the chance.

"You look pleased with yourself." She said teasingly and lifted a hand to push his hair back from his forehead, thumb tracing over his cheekbone before sliding to his shoulder. When he finally met her eyes again, his grin was lopsided.

He was sloppily in love with this woman who tugged at his collar as she laid back against the rug, her free arm tossed over her head wantonly. With her infuriating, reckless, big-hearted, brazen spirit and her determination to live life to the fullest. With her ridiculous smile as she coaxed his weight atop her before arching up to press her mouth to his once more.

He resisted momentarily, for form's sake, before giving into her.

As usual.

OK Producers, untill you come up with a 3rd season and prove me wrong, from this point on Jack and Phryne are ALL IN. You should probably make a third series and set me straight. Come on - I DOUBLE DOG DARE YOU.

/desperation.