Chapter Text
It had taken far longer than she had originally planned; solving a murder while playing the grieving wife with funeral arrangements was time consuming and tedious. Not to mention that it involved far too many nights sleeping alone. Pretenses were put in place and to be followed, leaving plenty of silent midnight wanderings through the halls of the palace to investigate, to theorize, and to have only a few stolen kisses and nothing more from the man she loved. Alwar had been lovely when you ignored the reasoning for their visit and she had hurried to leave India as soon as possible.
In the end, the motivation was clear. A sham marriage wouldn’t stay hidden forever and it had only been a matter of time before one of the men slipped and their love affair was found out. Not that she wished death on either, obviously, but it was a cruel act to let the Prince of Padna live with the guilt of his love’s death. It was a position she didn’t envy in the slightest. So often there was some semblance of justice, of a job well done after they had solved a case. But this ending just made her sad. All she had done to keep their reputations safe and alive for the lovers to be betrayed by a trusted servant whose beliefs seemed to outweigh his loyalties. No justice, no criminal punished because it was all swept under the rug to keep the family in a good light with Phryne and Jack highly encouraged to go back to Australia when all was said and done and to keep their mouths shut about the homicide. It burned at her conscious but there would be no way to reverse the clock and coming forth with the truth would undo all she had done, undo what the Maharajah had wanted. Going home is what they did.
The pair had arrived at 221B in similar states of sartorial disarray. From India to Bangkok, to Singapore, a refueling in Batavia before going south to Western Australia, and then making their way across the country as fast as her plane could get them made for a hectic almost week long journey. The weather had cooperated for most of their trip, only a few hours delayed by a bout of rain once they were back in the Antipodes. If Jack’s distaste of her driving was an indicator of how he felt about her pilot skills, he had wisely kept said opinions to himself through their travels. Flying fast and taking a few riskier maneuvers was worth it to get home. She had been away too long, missed too much not to rush. The temptation to stop and sight see and drag Jack into adventures was sorely temping to her but there would be time for that later. They had all the time in the world it seemed now that they had made their admissions to each other. The thought made Phryne’s heart feel as light as a feather. It wasn’t as if they had luggage to bring into the home, the light bags that had accompanied them could stay in the Hispano for the night. The majority of the things that Phryne had collected on her travels since leaving with her father were either still at her parent’s residence or would slowly make their own arrival to St. Kilda over the following weeks via ship. The peace and familiarity of her own bed was the first and foremost thought in her mind. She tried to open the door as quickly and quietly as possible. It was high past time for Mr. Butler to be in bed of course with only an empty home to look after for months.
What the pair hadn’t expected was the parlour to be occupied and the people therein seemingly waiting with bated breath for the couple’s appearance. Mr. Butler, with drinks at the ready, Dr. MacMillan, and Hugh had been waiting since Bert and Cec’s tipoff of a plane landing at the airfield with two very familiar flyers. Curiosity naturally had the detectives approach the open doors with caution. The trio greeted with wide grins and a mixture of “Welcome back, sir”, “Welcome back, Miss”, and “Thank God you’re in one piece”.
The surprise was clear on their tired faces and Phryne was the first to speak. If she was being honest with herself, the welcoming party was highly appreciated. It certainly was a better mood than sneaking through a dark house. Though, it did spell for another night sleeping in separate beds which did not go along with the plans of falling fast asleep in Jack’s arms that she had if they talked and drank too long into the night. “The reports of my death were greatly exaggerated but you all didn’t seem to mind. Or believe them at any rate.”
She was soon enveloped in the arms of her best friend, the other woman speaking quietly in her ear, “Don’t you dare die on me again Phryne or I’ll kill you myself.”
Phryne smiled softly and cupped Mac’s cheek. “No intention on doing it any time soon. I promise.” She moved back to allow Mr. Butler to take her coat before taking a glass of offered whiskey. She narrowed eyes at Hugh, “Where’s Dot?”
“She thought it best not to greet you with a crying baby, Miss. She said she’ll come see you in the morning, once you’re rested.” There was a tiny, sheepish shrug. He knew how this whole ordeal had tormented his wife but he didn’t feel like it was his place to air her emotions out to her employer and his supervisor when she could explain herself better later. “And I think she wanted me to make sure you were actually alright first.”
“Sweet Dot. I’m perfectly fine. Exhausted but fine.” Though, her dear companion did have a very good point. The cries of a baby were something she very rarely tolerated and much less at this time of night. Jack had collected his own glass and automatically took his place by the mantle and pulled his constable aside for a chat. The moment of quiet brought Mr. Butler to her side and he offered to make up the guest bedroom for the Inspector. She agreed with an excuse of being just too tired to drive to Richmond and back. A fact that was true, of course, but not exactly her motivation. Luckily (or maybe not. Mr. B did so often seem to have an oddly uncanny skill for knowing just what was needed), he swiftly exited and made his way upstairs to do so without any questioning.
She sat down on the chaise lounge, exhaled slowly and finally letting herself relax, the tension and aches in her body crying out for rest. The raven haired woman nursed her drink and attempted to give Mac the shortest version possible of her time away (it would take all night to explain the Crypt of Tears and would be far more appropriate for a proper welcome home party with champagne) all the while stealing glances and returning a few at Jack. And maybe her poker face had gotten a little rusty or Mac just knew her too well because when they had moved onto another round of whiskey, the other woman inclined her head incrementally towards the Inspector and asked, “Finally?”
The faintest pink colored her cheeks as she avoided her friend’s gaze. “Yes.”
“Good. You’ve tortured the poor man long enough.”
The twist in her stomach was hidden by a half smile. “I thought so.” A conversation that hadn’t been had yet; she still needed to make amends and apologize for what she put him through. Thinking she was dead, again, was out of her control but she still hated he had been in pain and for so much longer than from the Haynes case. Her marriage had been explained but the reasoning behind rescinding her romantic overture had been pushed aside in favor of doing what they did best, solving crimes. And it was a talk that would have to wait until after a lengthy stay in bed.
Mr. Butler offered the room to top off their glasses to which Hugh shook his head. “I really should get home.” He needed to get some sleep before heading into the station for his shift after all. He said his good byes to the others and stopped in front of Phryne, “Melbourne really is better with you in it, Miss.” He had learned just as much from the lady detective as much as he had from Inspector Robinson, maybe more because he had Dottie in his life due to her influence. And the beaming happy tears Dottie had on her face when she found out Miss Fisher was alive and coming home rivalled the expression she had when she held their daughter for the first time. Hugh would always be grateful to Miss Fisher. “Good night.”
"Good night Hugh.” That seemed to be the cue to wind things up. Jack looked as if he was about to fall over and Phryne knew damn well one glass of whiskey (even if it was very nice whiskey) wouldn’t do that to him. And Mac gave a little chuckle before giving Phryne a parting hug, “I’ll talk to you in a few days. I’m going to be tied for a bit. Death hasn’t waited just because you two were gone.”
“I didn’t expect it to. Though I’m sure it wasn’t as exciting.” That earned a soft smile from the redhead who gave them one last look at the pair before heading out the door.
“Do you require anything else for the night, Miss?”
“We’ll be fine, Mr. Butler. Thank you again.”
There was that silent little grin and the butler was out of the parlour. Phryne waited with an inclined head until she was sure he had retired to his own room for the night. Then she launched herself from the chaise into Jack’s waiting arms, wrapping her own around his neck and looked up to his amusement in those lovely eyes of his. “What?”
There was a slight shake of his head, “Nothing. A silly thought.” He gently brushed an errant strand of hair out of her face. “I didn’t realize how much I had missed this. Just us in your parlour.”
A small smirk appeared on her face before Phryne pressed a gently kiss to his cheek. “Plenty of nights to make up for our absence. But as for right now,” she ran her hands slowly down his arms to take his hands, “I’m extremely tired and would like nothing more than to collapse in my bed.” Turning on her heel, she led the way out of the parlour, Jack Robinson close behind. There’d be time for more adventurous bedroom activities later. She’d be doing him a disservice if she tried anything right then.
But the time they got upstairs and undressed, anyway, they barely had the energy to get under the covers before they passed out.
If her darling butler found them wrapped in each other’s arms in the morning in her bedroom, well, he wasn’t going to ruin it by saying anything. The older man was far too happy to see the two together, at last, to do anything to jeopardize. He’d just go back downstairs and have breakfast ready for when they awoke.