A/N Hi there. Welcome back. Thanks for your patience. I am still trying to get my JazzyMuse mojo back, I'm having trouble pulling myself out of this funk, but I'm trying.

I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer. I still own nothing. Just this story as it wove itself from my brain.

Pushing the door closed, Jack leaned against it and tugged Phryne to him, spanning his hands wide around her waist, long fingers splaying high up her ribcage before moving up to cradle her jaw carefully. Craning his head, Jack covered her lips with his, moving confidently, encouraged by her enthusiastic response and committed to memory the taste and contours of her mouth.

Never one to stand idly by, Phryne busied herself by running her hands up Jack's chest, tucking her fingers beneath his jacket and pushing it from his shoulders. With his arms raised to her face, however, his outer armour wasn't going anywhere. So, instead of focusing on the temporary obstacle, she set her attentions to unbuttoning his waistcoat and tugging at his impeccably knotted tie.

When Jack sensed her growing impatience, he hummed into the kiss and grabbed her eager fingers where they'd proceeded to unbuttoning his shirt. When she growled at her now-immobilized hands, he chuckled.

"Patience, Miss Fisher..." He nuzzled against her neck with a smile, and lowered their arms down to their sides.

"I've been the very embodiment of patience for far too many months, Inspector," she smarted back, grinning at their easy rapport despite her desperation to feel more of him. She tilted her head and looked up at Jack, ready to chastise him with a witty quip, but found herself breathless when she saw how dark his eyes had grown.

"Phryne," his voice had dropped by an octave, his timbre husky and hungry. "We only get this once…"

Her brow wrinkled, instantly misunderstanding his meaning. "Once...?"

Jack amended his declaration with a quick eye-roll. "We only get one first night, Phryne… Only one first time..."

"Well, of course," she agreed. "But we can always take our time, Jack… We've waited so long already." She untangled her fingers from his, returning to her previous task of unbuttoning his carefully layered clothing.

Jack shook his head and smiled softly. "Please, Miss Fisher," he started to move her backwards towards the bed, feeling the control over his baser instincts unraveling... Quickly. "Let me have this… Later, you can run the show and have your wicked way with me…" He smirked and caught the glint in her eye at his promise. Growing serious again, he brushed her nose with his. "I just… I want to learn you, to learn all about you..." Employing his keen detecting skills, he could sense she was close to caving to his desires - he just had to sweeten the pot a little more. "Downstairs, I made a promise… To let my fingers bring you pleasure… To taste you on my tongue…" When she gasped, he kept talking, his voice seductive, and wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her against his greedy body. "And, once I'm certain that you've toppled over at least two precipices, I want to bury myself deep inside of your body, to move in you, to discover and memorize your deepest secrets…"

His voice, the quiet, familiar timbre had always tugged at something deep inside the Honorable Miss Fisher, speaking to her subconscious on an ancient level that she didn't even recognize, but knew undoubtedly that no other man had ever reached. Her reaction to the mere sound of his words, no matter the subject, was nothing short of Pavlovian and her brain temporarily short circuited. The only coherent thought poking through the fog as she looked helplessly into his eyes, was a surprised curiosity at the fact that she hadn't already spontaneously combusted in a mind-numbing climax. Phryne found herself drowning in the depths of his blue-grays, so dark, nearly charcoal, and she simply nodded her assent, granting him the permission he sought and willingly submitting to his whim.

Before she even realized what was happening, Jack had shuffled them closer to the bed, his torso pressing against her body possessively. When the backs of her calves met the edge of the mattress, he ran his wide palms up her arms, over her shoulders and finally inward, following the elegant line of her collarbones, until his fingers met in the middle.

Phryne's brain barely processed their progression. Jack's actions were exact; the gentle, precise slide of his touch done with such surprising experience that she found herself moaning into his mouth. As his lips moved over hers, his clever fingers quickly located the buttons of her blouse and blindly unfastened them. Dragging his mouth away, he left a trail of wet, open kisses along her jawline and down her neck, pushing the silky material from her shoulders as he moved.

Phryne shivered, his mouth was leaving fire in its wake. When she felt Jack's sharp intake of breath, goose flesh erupted across her skin and an uncharacteristic whimper fell from her lips as she let her head loll back, exposing the long column of her throat to his mercy.

"So beautiful," Jack murmured, scraping his teeth up until he found her earlobe, where he praised her before continuing his newest favorite pastime of nuzzling her sweet skin. "You're breathtaking, Phryne…"

"Jack," she breathed, not trusting her full voice in her current state of uncharted arousal. Miss Fisher tucked her arms around his waist, burrowing beneath the hemline of his starched white shirt to span her fingers wide across his lower back.

Again, not certain how it happened, the Lady Detective found herself bodily manipulated to Jack's will and she was suddenly standing with her back against his chest as his arms, led by those delightfully strong hands and long fingers, circled her body and settled on the waistline of her flowing skirts. As he continued his self-assigned task of disrobing her, she allowed herself a few imaginative moments as her bottom pushed back against his groin, which told her, in no uncertain terms, just how much he wanted her.

Jack growled at the friction when she arched her back, and he nipped a little harder at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Without further preamble, he pulled away from her body just enough to regain the necessary control he'd need in order to successfully complete his exploratory journey of her body.

Following the graceful line of her spine, he left a smattering of kisses down the length of her back. Ever so slowly, he squatted, pulling her skirts down as he moved. When he reached her ankles, he carefully helped her out of her shoes before guiding her to step from the circle of fabric created by the layers of material that had previously been hiding her body from his sight.

From his place, kneeling on the floor, he looked up at the wonderfully pale expanse of porcelain skin on display for him, and he placed a gentle kiss on each of her back dimples before wordlessly encouraging her to turn in place.

When she did, his dark gaze swept over her body deliberately, as if he were worshiping her, which in a way, he supposed he was… Locking eyes, he noted how her pupils were blown wide, practically pulsating in time with her heavy breaths. Pressing a soft, intimate kiss to her belly button, his hands gripped her hips to hold her in place when he turned his head to rub his cheek against the softness of her feminine belly. He let her push his waistcoat and shirt from his shoulders, releasing his hold just long enough to disentangle his arms from the sleeves and leaving his braces dangling from his trousers.

It had been a while since Jack Robinson took his time with a woman for the sheer purpose of bringing her pleasure, but on the off-chance that things went sour between them by morning, he was determined to make the most of their time together and to show her how much he cared. With that in mind, the Detective Inspector suppressed his own urges and brought to the forefront of his mind, all the things that he desired for her, for his partner, for his Miss Fisher.

Phryne rested one hand on Jack's head, allowing the other to slip down to the nape of his neck so she could toy with the short hairs of his freshly-trimmed cut. Yes, she had noticed that his hair had been neatly trimmed between the time he'd bid her farewell after taking her official statement and returning that evening bearing a bouquet of home grown flowers. No wonder he left the station before Hugh… Darling man…

She marveled at the thickness of his curls and quickly understood why he pomaded them into submission. Feeling impish, she smiled and threaded her fingers through Jack's locks, anxious to see his hair completely mussed, courtesy of her own fingertips. When he pushed to his full height, she let her arms drape around the broadness of his shoulders and run down his chest, luxuriating in being able to touch his skin and surprised to find that he wore no singlet or sleeveless union shirt… She wouldn't have pegged her conservative Detective Inspector to be as forward-thinking as some of the American men with whom she'd been intimate, but it was apparent that he preferred separate underclothes as opposed to the more common union suit she was accustomed to finding beneath the clothing of her countrymen. As she ran her hands across his chest, she saw goose flesh rise, and looked up, searching his expression for any sign of hesitation. Of course, she found none; only confidence and adoration were shining back at her.

"Jack…" she whispered, her voice husky with long-denied desire. Unbuttoning his pants, she pushed them from his hips and let them puddle at his feet before turning her attention to his undershorts, grabbing the pull tie and preparing to bare him completely.

Jack brought one of his hands to hers, stilling their advancement as he shook his head. "Not yet, Phryne." With a kiss, he distracted her, stifling any argument she might try to levy. "Lie back," he encouraged softly. "Here," he spread his hands across her back to brace her carefully, lowering her to the turned-down bedspread, mindful of her bruises and scrapes. "You need to tell me if I start to hurt you. I don't want you to be uncomfortable…" When she shook her head to the negative, he placed his finger against her lips. "Promise me, Miss Fisher," he licked his own lips as he studied her face. "If I irritate an injury, you need to let me know so I don't do it again…"

"You won't hurt me, Jack," she trusted him implicitly. Knowing, however, that he needed the reassurance, she nodded. "But I will let you know. I promise."

Crawling over her, Jack kept his weight suspended above her supine body, and kissed her again. He was quite certain that he'd never enjoyed kissing a woman as much as he enjoyed kissing this insufferable, witty, reckless, amazing minx. Not even Rosie... And now that he had kissed her, he never wanted to stop.

The next several moments progressed steadily as his shifted down the length of her body, tugging away her underthings and stockings, each article removed only when she gave the eye contact he needed to communicate her permission. When he was finally kneeling at the foot of the bed, her dainty feet settled between his parted thighs, he admired the complete scene before him as she was laid bare to his gaze.

Anything he could have said would pale in comparison to the way he felt about her, to the way he saw her, so he opted to show her instead. With sure hands, he smoothed his calloused palms up her legs, starting at her ankles and working up to her thighs, tenderly encouraging them to part for him.

Phryne lost all sensibility and recognition of the passage of time. All she knew was that Jack Robinson had been hiding his amazing talents for far too long. He was sensual, sensitive, and surprisingly adventurous and adept. She wasn't sure what, exactly, she had been expecting, but the sensations she was experiencing caught her completely unawares.

True to his word, Jack took his time exploring her body in the most intimate of ways. His fingers plucked at her as if she was an exquisitely crafted Steinway and he the master virtuoso for whom she was designed. He coaxed from her some of the most erotic sounds he'd ever heard; it was music to his ears and he promised himself he'd hear it again, and again, and again… and he promised her that she'd be making them again, and again, and again…

He kept her teetering on the edge for extended moments, for all Phryne knew it was hours, bringing her ever closer before abruptly changing the angle of his touch or lessening the pressure, only to build her up again in an agonizingly delicious cycle.

When Phryne finally tumbled, encouraged by Jack's fingers between her thighs as his lips latched onto her nipple, she thought she was going to cry. It was an emotion she didn't typically associate with sexual gratification, but as Jack slowed his movements to carry her through her climax, moving his mouth up to her throat to press the flat of his tongue against her pulse point while murmuring endearments, she realized that being with Jack was what made all the difference.

Finally catching her breath, the Honorable Miss Fisher found herself speechless. She inhaled deeply and palmed his cheek when he shifted, bracing himself over her by on leaning his elbow as he moved his hand to her hip.

Noticing the un-shed tears, Jack swallowed a lump of fear that instantly lodged itself in his throat.

"Was that…" He suddenly feared that perhaps he'd misread the signals that her body had been emanating, indicating that she enjoyed his attentions. Maybe he'd made a mistake by edging her, by not allowing her release sooner, and now she was disappointed… He could only hope he hadn't ruined any chances to redeem himself and to prove his worthiness of being with her. "Are you alright?"

"Jack," she breathed, smiling with affection. "You dear, dear man… I'm more than alright…" She tilted her head when she saw his obvious relief. "Please don't tell me you thought I'd feel anything less...?"

He smiled; not the barely-there smile that he often let slip amongst his colleagues, but a broad, seldom-seen expression that completely transformed his face. It was something that he allowed very few people to witness; at least, it had been very few people since he returned from war. There was something about Phryne Fisher, however, that broke through his stoic, unflappable barriers, and it had been that way since almost the beginning… and he was ever so happy that he hadn't banished her from his life during that first case. Coming back to the moment, he simply stroked her cheek, meeting her eyes and brushing her fringe back from her forehead.

"I thought I had disappointed…"

Determined to ease any other doubts that may be lurking beneath the surface, Phryne pushed him onto his back and immediately crawled over him, straddling his hips. "You could never disappoint me, Jack Robinson…"

He reached up and cupped the back of her head, pulling her down into a searing kiss. When she started to shift, lining their centers against each other, his palms grasped her hips and held her still.

"Not yet, Miss Fisher…" Seeing her pout a split instant before her gaze turned wicked, he chuckled and maneuvered her to his side again, returning to their previous position. "There is something else I intend to do first…. After all," he cocked an eyebrow, "I am a man of my word…"

Her instinct was to argue, to push and tug until she got her way, but when he started trailing his hot mouth down her throat and between her breasts, continuing downward, she found herself, once again, at a loss for words and possessing an even less ambitious or valid argument for anything to the contrary. There was something shocking and amazing about the idea of Jack wanting to satisfy her by settling his shoulders between her thighs. She had often dreamed of his mouth - so appallingly expressive - but, she never imagined that he would so eagerly initiate such an activity.

While the Lady Detective had always suspected her buttoned-up, straight-laced Inspector was no stranger to the passions and pleasures of the boudoir, she hadn't expected such an avid desire to perform orally. In her time, she'd encountered lovers from one end of the spectrum to the other, in terms of their willingness to take her with their mouths, and she was quite pleased to be able to put Jack high on the scale of 'Willing'.

With a sigh and a keen plan to reciprocate, later, Phryne let herself fall open to him, to his explorations and experiments. And she was not disappointed. Not for a moment…

Jack moved down her body, his mouth trailing behind his fingers as he traveled, memorizing the feel and taste of her as he did. When he found a dimple with his fingertips, he explored it with his mouth. When she giggled in ticklish response, he nipped playfully with his teeth. When she gasped and sighed in surprised arousal, he parted her feminine petals with the tip of his inquisitive tongue before running the flat of it from base to top, groaning in approval of her flavor.

Alternating between rapid flicks and slow, languid suckles, he repeated his teasing technique of keeping her on edge. He yearned to taste her as she exploded for him, but at the same time, he longed to demonstrate his desire to completely satisfy her every need; to ensure that she was not left wanting, or feeling unfulfilled. When, from his spot between her parted thighs, he looked up the length of her body, he saw her take her breasts in her own hands and pinch her nipples, Jack didn't want to deny her any longer. With a quick shift of attention, he pushed two fingers deep into her core and brushed them against the upper wall of her canal, instantly finding the spongy tissue he knew would help push her over the cliff. He sucked her clit into the heat of his mouth, thrashing it with his tongue as his eyes never left her face.

Oh God, she breathed a sigh, trying to force her legs wider, though her hips were already flexed to the max. Rocking against his mouth and pushing down on his fingers, her body was quickly spiraling out of control and in an unusual twist of sensations, the room felt like it was spinning around her, like she was falling down into a deep well, with very little desire to ever re-emerge.

"Let go, Phryne," he spoke against her sex, the vibrations of his deep baritone radiating through her flesh. "Come for me."

His quiet, gentle command ultimately pushed her to the point of shattering and she let his name drip from her tongue like a mantra; a single word repeated in prayer, anchoring her to the here-and-now while she rode the waves of one of the most powerful climaxes she'd ever experienced.

For Jack, the vision of her splintering at his doing was awe-inspiring as his hand and tongue were coated with the evidence of her pleasure… of the pleasure he'd brought about. His chest swelled with male pride as his tongue slowed and he gently carried her through the ebb and flow of her orgasm. When her fluttering muscles ceased their frenzied quivers, he withdrew his fingers and cleaned them with his mouth, meeting her hooded eyes unapologetically.

She smiled lazily and reached down, grabbing his shoulders to pull him up. "Jack," she hummed. "You're wearing too many clothes…" Chuckling playfully, she shimmied her hands between their bodies and found the tie that was holding his undershorts in place. Once untied, she pushed them and smirked in satisfaction when he took over, finally removing them completely.

Pleased with what she discovered, Phryne noted that the inspector of her imagination paled in comparison to the real thing. Almost in a trance, she extended her hand, reaching for his arousal, but he caught her wrist gently. When her eyes swiveled up to meet his, she saw desperation in the depths of his blues.

"Phryne," he grunted. "If you do that, this will be over far too soon…"

Wishing to reciprocate how good he's made her feel, she smiled sweetly. "We have all night, Jack."

He swallowed thickly. "The first time I come with you," he hoped she would understand, "I want to be buried deep inside…"

Phryne did understand, and she adored Jack for his ways. While he may be more liberal-minded than she first gave him credit for, he was still a man who felt deeply, seriously, wholeheartedly. Nodding, she smiled warmly and patted the bed beside her. She suspected that Jack would prefer to have their first union in a more traditional position, like missionary, but she knew the injuries on her back would not withstand the friction that a man's thrusts would typically create.

"Lay here, Jack," she eyed him wickedly. "It's my turn to make you feel amazing…"

Jack was more than willing to accept the invitation, understanding why she was asking that he lay down. The last thing he wanted to do was aggravate her injuries by putting his weight on her body. As soon as he was settled, plush pillows piled high beneath his shoulders, she was crawling over him like a cat stalking her prey. With a hungry gaze, she straddled his hips and began rubbing her wetness against the underside of his erection, which was straining upward towards his abdomen.

When he felt her drenching heat spreading along his length, he grunted and palmed her hips firmly, throwing his head back. "Fuck, Phryne," he cursed involuntarily, instantly unsure if he should apologize for the profanity but unable to form a coherent thought while simply trying to refrain from exploding. When she leaned down, however, to whisper into his ear, he knew he'd never have to ponder apologies for such a thing in the future.

"That's the idea, Jack," she purred, grinding down against his pelvis. "It's been my idea for a long, long time…"

She lifted herself over him, watching as he took himself in hand to line up their centers. When she caught his eyes, she slowly lowered her body, impaling herself onto him inch by inch until he was fully engulfed by her flames and they both groaned in relief.

Phryne sighed and started rocking, her speed picking up steadily. He was cradled inside of her perfectly, his girth and length reaching all the right places and threatening to push her over the edge in record timing. She spanned her hands across his chest to give her the leverage she needed as she continued to move, each of her downward rolls met in impeccable timing with an upthrust from him.

Jack bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hold out long enough to bring Phryne to another climax, but the increased tingling at the base of his spine warned that his efforts were swiftly failing. Releasing her hip, he brought his thumb to the juncture where their bodies met and quickly found her hungry bundle of nerves, fully engorged and begging for relief. Moving his other hand up to her breast, he palmed her, his touch just this side of rough.

"Come for me, Phryne. One more time, Love."

His low voice caused tremors to rake through her over-sensitized body and she tried to delay just a few minutes more, desperate to prolong the sweet torture. "Not yet," she pleaded. "Together. Come with me, Jack…"

"Let go, Phryne. I promise, I won't be far behind…" With that, he pressed particularly hard against her clit, sending her sailing into her orgasm with a grateful, throaty cry. When she clenched all around him, her sweet juices coating him completely, he knew he was a goner. Grabbing her hips again, he held her still as he thrust up once, twice and a third and final time. With a mighty growl, he emptied himself deep inside as she was still enjoying the waves of her release.

Collapsing against his chest in exhaustion, Phryne nuzzled beneath Jack's chin and relished in the feeling of his fingers dancing carefully along her back. Reaching down, she grabbed the edge of the top sheet and pulled it half-heartedly over their bodies, mumbling sleepily.

"Just a kip, Jack… I'm not done with you yet…"

~MFMM~

Downstairs, Hugh and Dot stood in the foyer saying goodnight, and were startled into silence at the somewhat frightening sounds that echoed down the staircase. Hugh's first instinct was to slip into Constable-mode and make sure that the household was safe, but Dot's hand on his shoulder and the wordless shake of her head held him in place. Following her line of sight, he spotted the Inspector's coat and fedora hanging from their customary hook and after a split second of realization, the young man swallowed hard.

"Oh…" His heart started racing and he felt a little sick. "Right…." Turning back to his sweetheart, he briefly wondered if all women sounded like that when they did that… Or did it depend on the skills of the man to make a woman squeal in apparent pleasure… Would he possess the requisite skills, he pondered. And in return, would his own response be so vocal? Against his better judgement, he let his mind flit to the contraband book Miss Fisher had given him on the sly when he'd first started courting Dot, and his cheeks flamed with heat. He quickly knew that if he didn't get out of the house immediately, he was going to embarrass himself in front of Dottie the more he thought about that.

Watching her beau take a quick exit, more like an escape, Dorothy smirked, she couldn't help but giggle. She remembered how embarrassed she was the first time she thought someone was hurting her Miss Fisher, and she felt particularly modern that she understood at least a bit more about what was going on upstairs than her sweet Constable did.

~MFMM~

When the sun poked through a sliver in the heavy curtains the following morning, Jack smiled before he even opened his eyes, thankful for the sweet weight against his chest. Pressing a kiss into her tousled bob, he turned his eyes away from the bright streak of sunlight peeking in, not ready to face the day. As he glanced to his left, he saw his new suit, freshly pressed and hanging on a suit valet stand tucked against the wall just inside the door, ready for him to don.

Mr. Butler is a gem, he thought as he let his eyelids fall closed again. Surprising himself, he didn't even mind that the houseman had entered the boudoir while he was still there…while their nudity was only covered with a flimsy sheet. However, it certainly beat the alternative, of re-dressing in yesterday's wrinkled suit after rescuing it from wherever it landed on the floor. I'll thank him properly later, he thought again, letting himself drift back off into a welcome slumber, with the sleepy warmth of the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher tucked under his arm.

Postscript A/N

Thanks for reading and thanks again for the welcome into this fandom as I entered my first fic. I hope to write again for MFMM and hone my understanding of the characters and take them places that the show couldn't. As I said before, I do love a good what-If scenario and enjoy finding new paths for characters to explore.

peace & love, my friends,

~jazzy