#dour detective inspector jack robinson

[missfisherandjack]

DI Jack Robinson In The Episode “Murder In Montparnasse”

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 1x07 Murder In Montparnasse

[allpartofthejob]

A little something that came to my mind today... I've never written any "prose" in english 😬 not my native language... so please just ignore 😁

🙈🙈🙈

***

Jack has to see Phryne for some further questioning but on his way he is caught in a summer storm. And receives a warm welcome at Wardlow.

Senior DI Jack Robinson was annoyed. Why would his constable have the car checked this evening? Hugh still had to learn a lot... Jack needed to visit Miss Fisher to get some more information about her conversation with Celia Harper. It could not wait. Or so he told himself.

The sky had been draped in clouds all day. Now it was almost black and gusts of wind swept through the streets. Jack sighed and began to head for St Kilda. When he had managed almost half of the route the storm broke loose, rain poured from the clouds like a shower and soon the water dripped from his hat into his collar. It ran down his spine, cold and uncomfortable.

**

Phryne sat in her parlour and sipped some exquisite whiskey. She pensively looked at the raindrops running down her windows when she suddenly heard the door bell. Mr. Butler answered it and soon the door to the parlour was opened. "It's the Inspector, Miss". "Jack!" Phryne's face lit up. When she saw her dour inspector her smile softened. Jack was soaked from head to toe, his hat, coat, the three piece suit. Had he walked here?? Phryne's smile widened and a cheeky sparkle appeared in the corner of her eyes. "Mr. Butler, I'm afraid we need your help. Would you please provide the inspector with some fresh clothes and dry and press his suit?" "Very well, Miss. Would the auburn dressing gown suffice?" "You read my mind, Mr. Butler" Phryne answered.

When she had lately seen the silk and cashmere dressing gown at Madame Fleury's she could not resist and had just bought it. Imagining how well it would suit a certain detective inspector who might one day wear it.

**

Jack had felt too weak to protest, but now back in the the parlour he startet to relax. He felt warm and comfortable, wrapped in the softest fabric he had ever touched and set up with a glass of Phryne's best whiskey, Phryne was sitting opposite of him, smiling. He had absolutely forgotten the purpose of his visit...

[arlome]

phrack: librarian/avid reader au

Helllloooo, dear anon! Sorry, this took a while.

I....have no idea what this is. Hopefully, you’ll like it. 

 “Ooo, he’s here again – second day in a row; that’s a record!”

Phryne squints at the catalogue number on the spine of a massive tome on eastern husbandry – something about yak-rearing in Tibet – and huffs; she bloody hates the new cataloguing system and its needlessly intricate design.

“Who is, Dot?” she asks noncommittally, not even bothering to lift her head from the offending book. Seriously, it’s going to take her bloody ages to get used to this new system!

“Your dour subscriber no’ 6478! He’s back, and he’s not wearing a suit, for a change!”

Phryne’s head shots up fast enough to pull a muscle, and she winces, cursing softly. Dot sniggers and rolls her lips together as her colleague massages the smarting area and glares at her in mild annoyance.

“Surely you mean my incredibly fit subscriber no’ 6478, Dot dear,” Phryne smiles smugly and chances a glance at the figure that’s just walked in through the double doors, wearing jeans and a leather jacket, a biking helmet held loosely in his left hand. “Oh, you’re right! He’s deliciously casual today.”

Dot shakes her head and smiles indulgingly.

“You’re hopeless,” she mutters, and Phryne shrugs.

“I look for joy in all the dark places, Dot,” she whispers and winks, “and speaking of – has maintenance been to change the lightbulb in Isle 39? You can barely see the books!”

Some days it just seems like the entire building is crumbling down around them.

Dot reaches for the phone, efficiency mode activated.

“I’m on it,” she says, nodding towards the entrance, “and, heads up - 6478 is coming your way.”

Phryne lifts her eyes above the counter just in time to greet the ridiculously attractive man.

“Mr Robinson!”

“Miss Fisher.”

He’s leaning on the counter, his mouth set in a slight twist – a maddening, enigmatic half-smile – as if he’s in on some outrageously clever joke that nobody’s aware of. Phryne returns the lip quirk; she’s rather convinced she’s in on the joke, too.

“Back so soon! Even you can’t read a week’s worth of books in one night!”

The half-smile quirks upwards and scrunches the man’s nose in the most adorable way; Phryne’s smile turns a little wicked. Well, there’s no escaping it now – she’d have to seduce him.

“Oh, no, I’m nowhere done,” he explains, leaning a little closer. “It’s my day off, you see – “

“And you decided to spend it in the library…?”

The man spreads his hands, shrugging in a self-deprecating way that makes Phryne a little hot under the collar.

“Well, where else?” he asks in his deep, husky voice. “Books are like portals to other worlds. I could be visiting the Shire, Ankh-Morpork, Lyme, Verona, without even getting off my ridiculously lumpy sofa in Melbourne.”

That does it; she might have to seduce him in the back office right now.

“How very true,” she purrs delightedly and notes in great satisfaction how the man appears to colour a little at her praise. “And what is it that you do, Mr Robinson? No, wait, don’t tell me – I enjoy a good mystery – you’re an English professor, or, rather, a writer...?”

The self-deprecating smile strikes again, and Phryne finds her day improving considerably. Sod the new cataloguing system, nothing can ruin her good mood now.  

“Nothing so romantic, I’m afraid,” he says, reaching into his inner jacket pocket. “I’m a detective inspector, homicide. See?”

He hands her his warrant card, and she flips it open, inspecting it carefully.

“Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson.”

“Guilty as charged,” he confirms, retrieving his card and pocketing it. “And you might as well call me Jack. Everyone else does.”

Oh, he’s a delight.

“Very well, Jack,” she replies, grinning, “then I’m Phryne, and this lovely lady to my right is Dot Williams.”

The man with the face that launched a thousand fainting fits nods in the direction of her assistant.

“Miss Williams.”

Dot’s cheeks bloom at the oddly endearing old-fashioned address, and she acknowledges the man with a soft smile. “Nice to meet you, Inspector.”

Sensing a lull in the conversation, Phryne shoves the yak-rearing tome out of the way and rises from her seat. She notes that the Inspector’s – Jack’s – lovely blue eyes widen a little at the sudden gesture. Smiling reassuringly, she crosses her arms and leans over the counter, her face just a few centimetres away from his. He does not move away.

Oh, but he’s going to be fun.

“So, what can I help you with, Jack?” she asks suggestively, delighting in the man’s flushed cheeks. Really, he should probably go ahead and arrest himself; it must be illegal to be this delicious in public.

“W-well,” he stammers a little, clearly thrown by her obvious flirting, “I’m looking for a book about Eastern erotic art, and I was hoping you could… recommend a title?”

Well, this day just keeps getting better and better. She must have done something right in her previous life.

“We have some fascinating books on the subject, Jack,” she purrs, reaching for her notepad and a pencil. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Anything by Yanagawa or Hokusai would be perfect,” he supplies without batting an eyelash, and Phryne’s mouth drops open. Jack smiles that maddening self-deprecating smile and rubs the back of his neck with long – and probably very dexterous – fingers.

“You’re not used to coppers who have more than half a brain cell, are you, Miss Fisher?”

Okay, mind changed; she might have to seduce him right now on this very counter.

“I must say it does go against the stereotype, Inspector.”

His lips curve downwards just a tad in that odd half-smile of his; his eyes glint almost mischievously.

“It’d be a tactical error to think you had me pegged just yet, Miss Fisher.”

She tries to smother her laughter as he arches one eyebrow in challenge.

“This sounds a lot like an invitation, Jack,” she chuckles. After all, it takes two to waltz, and she can give as good as she gets.

The half-smile stays in place, but the man leans backwards, keeping most of his space to himself.

“The books, Miss Fisher…?” he asks and nods towards the isles. “Am I ever going to get my recommendation?”

Cheeky bastard. She likes him already.

“You will if you call me Phryne,” she challenges, scribbling something down on the entirely forgotten notepad.

“Alright, Phryne.”

She shivers a little at the way his voice dips at the end of her name, and she briefly wonders how it will sound falling from those generous lips in passion. She vows to find out soon enough.

“Here,” she says, thrusting the little yellow piece of paper into his large hand. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

Jack squints at the scribble on the tiny paper and frowns.

“Damn, I can’t make this out,” he mutters, patting down his jacket. “Hang on….”

Phryne nearly chokes on her tongue when he produces a pair of reading glasses and smiles embarrassedly at her.

“Not even forty and already farsighted as a bat,” he laments, smiling. “Very ‘old man’ chic, I know…”

She tries not to drool all over the counter in answer. It could be considered bad manners.

“I think it suits you,” she croaks, instead. There; much better.

“Mhmm,” he acknowledges the compliment with another arched eyebrow and lowers his head to regard the paper in his hands once again. “Um…what’s this? It doesn’t look like a serial number…”

“It’s not.”

He looks up at her, and his eyes are unreadable, but the flush is back in his cheeks. Honestly, she considers this a win.

“That’s my number, Jack,” she adds, smiling a little smugly now that the small twist in his lips is back online. “If you want a proper recommendation, you should call it. I have a rather large collection of books on eastern erotica… in my personal library back at home. I’m sure a scholarly bloke like yourself would be in the perfect position to appreciate them properly.”

Phryne can hear Dot choking on her tea to her right, one sideways glance confirming her frantically wiping at the liquid coming out of her nose. Jack produces a tissue paper out of his pocket and offers it to the poor girl.

An officer and a gentleman. Well, well.

“Never let it be said that I turned down the opportunity to expand my horizons,” he quips and pockets the little note. “I hope you have comfortable chairs in your personal library, Miss Fisher. I’m quite the thorough reader.”

Phryne suddenly finds it very hard to scold him for his stubborn objection to using her first name. There’s something to be said for formality; that something is positively filthy.

“I do appreciate a man who takes his time.”

Another little twist of his upper lip, and he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans. This short interview is clearly over.

“G’day, Phryne,” he says with some finality and turns to nod at Dot. “Miss Williams.”

Both women smile at him. “Jack.”

When he leaves, Phryne lowers herself back into her seat and sighs contentedly. Dot shakes her head and mutters something unintelligible under her nose. The lightbulb in Isle 39 flickers back to life.

 He calls her ten minutes later.

She seduces him in her very comfortable library chair.

He’s very thorough.

[ao3feed-mfmm]

for nobody else gave me a thrill

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2QNGbPT

by jaythenerdkid

"Of course I listen to you, Jack," she replies easily. "Why, if anything, I'm the one who has no influence over you! If I had, you wouldn't always be so - " she gestures vaguely -

" - professional?" Jack supplies.

She makes a face. "Buttoned-up," she retorts. "Dour. Withdrawn. Serious - "

"Murder is serious, Miss Fisher," Jack says.

In which Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson is almost definitely fighting a losing battle. Set between 1x05, Raisins and Almonds, and 1x07, Murder in Montparnasse.

Words: 1690, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Phryne Fisher, Jack Robinson

Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson

Additional Tags: Unresolved Sexual Tension, Canon Compliant

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2QNGbPT

[thlstpg]

Father’s Day & my muses

Jack Robinson - Father’s Day is quiet for him, the station usually sees him for an extra long shift on that day. Ever reserved about his personal life, some would think the Detective Inspector didn’t have parents; that he just sprang from the Earth, fully formed and dour. It’s been years since his father passed and he does take a moment on the day to reminisce. He doesn’t go to the grave, that he does with his mother on his father’s birthday.  

Elizabeth MacMillan - She doesn’t give the man the time of day. Oh, he’s alive in Melbourne somewhere but she hasn’t spoken to him since she received her doctorate. Somehow she thought that would prove her to him, that he could be proud of his child but the first thing Liz did wrong in her life was be born a girl and she’s never been forgiven for it.  

Jack Harkness - Father’s Day is hard. The loss of his own, his own failings as a father, he’d much rather ignore the day altogether. If it gets brought up in passing, he brushes it off. If asked directly, he’ll give the facts; his father is dead and he has no family outside of Torchwood anymore.  

The Doctor - Both 11 and 13 are quiet about their families, about their home and the rest of the Time Lords. Parents are a touchy subject, even more so for 13. There is a hidden room on the TARDIS dedicated to their family; their first wife, children, grandchildren (Susan’s a bit grander than the rest), and even a corner for Brax. 

Amelia Pond - Having your whole life rewritten and going through multiple timelines that stopped existing made you think about what’s important. She loves her parents, of course she does but family is a tricky thing for the time traveler. Before Manhattan, she and Rory always made sure to ring their dads and give them good wishes and love on the day. Now, Father’s Day is just fun to see what she can get her boys into and see just how much cliche gifts Rory is willing to put up with.

Dante Callahan - Doesnt know much about the man that gave him his last name, or his mother to be honest. The Time Agency likes recuiting orphans, less people to notify if you died on the job. Family’s never been a big thing to him.  

Mazikeen - Well, she’s a demon. Fathers don’t get much thought. Mother’s Day, however? That’s something.  

Bridget McGonagall - Other than the odd remark from her peers about not having one, it’s a normal day.

[whopooh]

Undercover or under the covers? The June trope MFMM challenge

Undercover, but rather uncovered.

June was the month for undercover, and this trope opens up for a broad range of possibilities – all the way from creating a whole case to sketching a teasing undercover attempt mostly to make Phryne and Jack get together in a specific way. Often, the two layers of the roles and themselves comment on each other in meaningful ways, and within this, the undercover scenarios – worlds to immerse in, roles to play – are more or less limitless, and also really tickles the imagination.

Compared to the other months, this month’s fics ran away and got rather long, and also published late in the month -- so what first looked like an ‘easy’ month for me to write an overview for instead in the end became really fic heavy. This is also a trope that has already been extensively (under)covered in earlier fics – also there not seldom long ones. To just name a few, we have lovely longfics like @wah-pah’s “Undercover at the Elvsworth Club", @phrynesboudoir/sassasam’s: “The Model Murders”; PlayfulMay/ @mollidraws’s "Undercover Escort”; @firesign23‘s "The Uses of Adversity”; @missingmissfisher‘s series “Double o Phrack”; and two lovely and rather different undercover fics with a cycling theme: Miss_Lilian’s “Death at the Warrny” and hotelf’s “Murder at the Cycling Club” -- just to name some of the longer ones. Undercover truly is a popular trope.

But this post is about the trope challenge, so we’ll concentrate on the fics from June. In most stories, it’s either Phryne, Jack, or both of them going undercover, and the focus is on their relationship and the case. A few fics are broadening that focus, which is really lovely. I will start with them, to then go on to the lighthearted fics, the smuttier fics, and finally end with the longer cases.

In @flashofthefuse, “The Red Flame”, there are two different undercover operations that unbeknownst to each other are set in the same place, a club/brothel. When Jack is in need for a woman to go undercover and pose as a criminal, the title’s red flame, he asks Mac – although it takes a little while for the reader to realise this, and it’s deliciously done. At the same time, Phryne has a case and makes her undercover work with Bert.

The repartee between Mac and Jack is glorious, like here:

“... you definitely look the part, but just looking like her won’t be enough, you know. Are you as confident in her character? I hope you took the time to read the material I sent.”

“Are you always this condescending?”

“Probably,” he admitted, earning him a small smile. “May I come in? I’d like to fill you in on what we’ve learned this afternoon.”

The story isn’t finished yet, but it’s lovely in more than one way to see the interactions both within and between these two pairings – having their own very difficult mission, but also worrying about the other’s. We often say that we want more interaction between Mac and Jack, and here that is given in a brilliant way, with sincere care and respect as well as banter – and also with a Mac that is a genius in playing a tough, nonchalant role undercover, using her experience of being a woman in a man’s world in a way that helps the case enormously.

@rubycaspar’s “And after all the obstacles” gives us a fic all from Rosie’s point-of-view. Even if it is Phryne and Jack that are undercover, the person we follow here is Rosie, being at a garden party and suddenly encountering Jack, who turns out to be undercover together with Phryne. We see all the action and scenes from her point of view, and the case part of the fic is thus brilliantly shortened. @rubycaspar gives us Rosie’s view and her observations and conclusions of what she sees – conclusions she constantly needs to revise, as more and more is revealed to her about Phryne and Jack. This also gives her the chance to work through her feelings about her ex-husband. It is set almost a year after “Unnatural habits”, and gives a strong and determined Rosie – “Rosie thought about avoiding him, but she wasn't one to back down. If he didn't want to see her, he could leave. With that in mind, she straightened her shoulders and made her way over” – and a Rosie ready to change her preconceptions. It’s a very hopeful story.

In @longlineoftvdetectives‘s “Incognito”, finally, Jack is the one going “undercover”, but his undercover interplay is with Aunt Prudence. Aunt P is ill and needs to travel to England, and it turns out that she needs Jack to accompany her, thus forcing him to pretend to be her niece’s husband. With small gestures, the fic teases out many emotions, details and characterisations, in snippets covering many issues and building up a story about Phryne and Jack, about Phryne in relation to her family in England, and also about not hiding who you are (a second take on the theme ‘undercover’). Like this discussion about Oscar Wilde:

“Dragged out of his room by the police and sentenced to hard labor.”

“For…, um…” Jack stammered, unsure what euphemism was appropriate for the dining room of the establishment in question.

“For refusing to live his entire life undercover,” Phryne responded, her voice now clear and defiant. “For loving who he wanted to love. For not hiding or apologizing for who he was.”

Jack smiled and held her gaze. He loved her like this. He would have kissed her, soundly, if they weren’t in public.

“So the Wilde play, then,” he said matter-of-factly, after a long beat.

These undercover prospects are intriguing.

After these alternative perspectives, I’ll turn to the rather large section of fics that are fun and light hearted and sometimes also have a… shall we say more liberal view of what ”undercover” can mean.

The perfect transition between these two sections are of course @ollyjayonline‘s “The Inspector”, a fic that focuses on Isabella, the rather scandalous wife of Phryne’s cousin Guy, and has a delightful touch on the subject of both her and the theme of ‘undercover’. The two spouses have a conversation worthy of British toffs, discussing a news item about Phryne getting married, while simultaneously devoting themselves to both rather ‘dirty’ and casual carnal pleasures.

Isabella’s logic turns the tables on the “propriety issue” we often consider with respect to Phryne and her life style in contrast to Jack: “Really, it is quite wrong of your cousin. A divorced policeman? Why can’t she just keep sleeping with him? I mean, what will people say?"’ It’s a brilliant turnarounf. Reassured that this won’t affect her, she instead turns to daydream about the handsome and dour Inspector, something Guy doesn’t mind helping her out with through some roleplaying.

Isabella’s and Guy’s way of seeing everything as a game, of indulging in fantasies, and of having other people in bed with them – both physically and in role play – is all very in character, and an interesting contrast to Phryne.

The next lighthearted fic is @loopyhoopyfrood’s sweet modern AU “Love At First Swipe?”, where Jack Robinson is being set up for a date on an app as part of a case. He needs to find out how burglaries seem to have been conducted in relation to dates set up via this app; his only problem is that when he meets his date, it is not a suspicious stranger but a lady detective working on the same case.

Maybe it was her profile, as full as lies as every other user, but missing that hint of authenticity. Or maybe it was just Jack’s spidey senses tingling. Either way, something about Fern Roberts had him groaning in resignation and swiping right.

20 minutes later he had a date.

He tried not to think about how it was his first date since his divorce.

As a chapter 11 in her longer fic collection, “The Friday Phrack Series, @rositalg writes an intimate and atmospheric scene from Phryne and Jack in an established relationship. Phryne comes home to a Jack that sits and reads, and she simultaneously talks about her case and is seduced by him.

Her eyes closed blissfully, relishing in the attention.

“Perhaps you could help me.” She suggested, her thighs parting ever so subtly. “You’ve always been one to...dive deep into a case.”

He met her eyes, both of them knowing he was going to have her right here on this couch before the evening was done.

“Miss Fisher, are you asking me for assistance?”

In @omgimsarahtoo‘s “Under Cover of Darkness”, both the ‘undercover’ and the ‘under the cover’ theme is at play. Phryne and Jack has spent the evening undercover in a club, and the fic starts after this is over. Everything goes black, and when Phryne wakes up, he is in a strange room. After the first moments of fear, she deduces that she is not kidnapped but rather at Jack’s house, with a Detective Inspector sleeping in the chair next to her. The fic then turns to her instead indulging in pleasures under the covers with her crime solving partner, and it’s combined with really lovely banter:

“You, Jack Robinson,” she breathed, around sweeps of her tongue across his cheeks, “have a very talented mouth.”

“It’s entirely the subject, Miss Fisher,” he responded, his smile a smug tilt of the lips.

And in the end:

Catching her hand, he leaned up to kiss her, his smile tender. “You are an excellent partner, Miss Fisher. I enjoy working with you, undercover or not.”

“That’s because I’m exceptional.” Phryne grinned as she said it.

“And so modest, too!” Jack affected surprise. “A prize among women.”

Equally of the fun and teasing persuasion is @firesign23′s “Subterfuge at the Savoy” that establishes a gorgeous scene of Phryne in bed in a hotel in England – just to suddenly have her mother barge in without warning (of course Phryne Fisher’s mother is resourseful...). In the heat of the moment, Phryne decides to keep Jack hidden under the covers, but he is in a devilish mood and starts touching her and making her behave exceedingly oddly towards her mother.

“You aren’t still pouting over that policeman your father mentioned, are you? He said you told the poor man to come after you, which is utterly foolish.”

The policeman in question was drifting dangerously high up her thigh with his tongue, and Phryne really had no idea how much longer she could keep this charade up.

Among all the fun, there is also a partly serious question from Jack, after Phryne’s mother has left: ‘“Why was it, Miss Fisher, that we are two consenting, independent adults and I still found myself hiding from your mother?” he asked, eyes dancing. “You’re not ashamed of me, are you?”’

But Phryne has an answer to that question, too.

A last lighthearted undercover fic is leavephryneforme's “Undercover At The Great Australian Baking Show” – a fun romp told in small snippets about a modern Jack being undercover on a baking show. He decides to keep this a secret to Phryne, who starts wondering why he suddenly has so many cookbooks, and the fic addresses his far too alluring features – which the female judges appreciate – when baking.

Preparing Jack for undercover crossdressing. Art by @kidnthehall.

From lighthearted, we’ll turn to two fics that focus on putting Jack in costume.

@whopooh's “The Importance of Being at the Wilde Cats Club”, is a case fic where the focus is not so much on the case, but more on the characters. In order to help Phryne’s old friend Eleanore, who is also a transwoman, Jack, Hugh, Bert and Cec need to go undercover at a club as men impersonating women. The fic focuses on the transformation of them – how they will need to dress, and move, and wear make-up – and also in Phryne’s complete delight in dressing up and putting make-up on Jack, and the shenanigans that follow from this, where Jack uses his newly painted lips to tease Phryne. There is both trust and teasing all through, and a slight continuation of the role reversal theme of April. It all came from two things: the comment “We need more mfmm men in lingerie”, and the desire to have a transgender person who would not need to die in order to be important in a case story. This turned into seduction via lipstick:

She pressed her lips together and motioned how he should do the same and he followed her lead, pushing his lips together. She smiled, and he followed her lead in that too.

“Oh, hang on,” she said, and procured a piece of paper. “Bite the excess colour off on this one, like this.”

But instead of doing that, Jack captures her and kisses her deeply, smudging the lipstick: 

When they resurfaced, she looked at him and couldn’t stop a smile from spreading over her face. He looked ridiculous, with the lipstick smudged and forming a mad pattern around his mouth. 

“Well, you should see yourself,” was all he said as he gave her a small smile.

Also in @scruggzi's “Merciful Powers”, there is a focus on Jack in costume – this time in a luscious costume for going undercover as an understudy in a Macbeth production. Phryne takes great pleasure in the fact that he is dressed in tights, and that he also can be extricated from said tights, and there is a wonderful use of Shakespeare quotes as seduction throughout the fic. As the whole undercover trope shows, it is very fulfilling to put Jack in other clothes than his normal ones, while still keeping his restrained character, and here it is combined by a delicious push-and-pull between them: ‘“Mmm,” she purred, “much as I applaud your theatrical talent, Jack, that was definitely better than Shakespeare.”/ “Sacrilege!” he protested in mock horror, eyes twinkling at her.’

And heading into smut, there is a lovely self-awareness of the literary, and the way it comments on the two of them:

“Macbeth always knew he couldn’t resist temptation forever. All he really needed was an excuse.”

Phryne was fairly sure that analysis had very little to do with Shakespeare, but Jack’s hands had moved around to palm her breasts, and his lips had found the spot just under her ear that made her knees weak. Literary criticism could definitely wait.

The undercover work, and its implications of dressing differently than normal, and of perhaps partly trying out being someone else, is driving the sensual pleasure here.

A similar thing can be said about @phrynesboudoir /Sassasam’s, “The Captain’s In”. Here Phryne and jack are both working undercover on the same case, or rather, Jack is working undercover and a stubborn Phryne stumbles into his case. As they're thrown together, Phryne having to pretend to be a prostitute, the undercover turns into rather rough sexual roleplay (‘"Get below and get naked," he ordered. / Phryne realised with a rush of aroused surprise, that he meant it and she must obey in order to maintain their cover’), and also here there is the idea of heightening an experience through unfamiliar roles and costumes – in this case more ‘dirty’, and added to it a rather sinister on-looker.

Fancy meeting you in the US, Lin!

Over to the long, more elaborate case fics. First, @longlineoftvdetectives, “Welcome to San Francisco”, as the title gives away, set in the US where Phryne and Jack have taken a detour on their way home to Australia. In San Francisco they happen upon Lin Chung, who’s in need of their help. The stakes are high – Lin is threatened to his life – and it turns out that Jack will have to pretend to be Baron Fisher, while Phryne poses as Lin’s wife. In a lovely and similar way as the show, the storyline shows some of Phryne’s and Jack’s emotional journeys, but without settling anything too much, still leaving many questions unanswered. Their relation and the case is woven together, and there is a lovely relation between Jack and a young lad he takes in under his tutelage;, an interesting triangle between Phryne, Jack and Lin; an outsider view disapproving of the Chinese man that they handle brilliantly; and a very competent pair of detectives.

There are many poignant points, often made through dialogue, like here:

“Are you and Inspector Robinson in San Francisco on a case?” Lin asked.

“Not exactly,” Phryne replied. “You might say our relationship is no longer strictly business.”

“I see,” Lin answered. “Are you happy?”

“Very much so,” Phryne replied without hesitation.

“Should I still refer to you as Miss Fisher?”

“Yes.”

“Then there must be more to Inspector Robinson than I had originally perceived,” he concluded.

A fic that teases out an emotional side of Phryne and Jack’s partnership, and of Phryne’s backstory, is @omgimsarahtoo‘s ”Ungentle Reminders”. The undercover stint in this story awakens memories of René in Phryne, and it also higlights misogyny and abuse. Phryne is unsettled by the happenings, where she has to pretend to be a subdued woman among other subdued women, and after the women unexpectedly has made a bloody rebellion, she states:  

“I’ll be a character witness for them,” Phryne said, her eyes on his face as he swept the cloth gently across her skin, wiping up the residue he’d left behind. His eyes flashed up to hers, surprised.

“You only knew them for a couple of days,” he said.

“Maybe,” she agreed, “but Jack, I was them, once upon a time.”

And Jack agrees about the woman who’s now going to be charged for murder: “She made her own freedom.”

In @zannadubs23 /Inzannatea’s “Things Said”  (her first mfmm fic – welcome!) the theme is also rather sinister: Jack is, on his way to London and Phryne, kidnapped in Egypt and taken by slave traders. The theme is serious and the case is given plenty of focus, building up the world where Phryne can be in place to save him – but there is also plenty of focus on more carnal pleasures, once Jack is finally released and still in her tent, as well as luscious details, like here, before Jack has realised who is his saviour: 'The room had an amber glow to it. Jack couldn’t really tell where the lights were coming from, but the room decidedly glowed. The floor was covered with stacks of ornate rugs and large pillows in shades of orange and red and purple. “She would love this,” his traitorous brain informed him instead of working on an escape plan.' The fic grew out of the line "Shave him and bring him to my tent" -- and from that start an elaborate story was built.

A casefic that has both dinosaurs, archaeological sites, a friend of Phryne with interesting parallels to her and the inspired idea to let Phryne and Jack pose undercover as siblings, is @firesign23 “Poetry of Earth”. 

Phryne and Jack arrive at the scene of an archaeological dig on Isle of Wight, where a clever female archaeologist, Lucy, that is a friend of Phryne’s works. There seems to be sabotage and ill will, and Lucy is particularly putting her neck out as a female archaeologist. There is a young girl that tries to flirt with the handsome brother in the newly arrived sibling pair, and there is a lot of tension and fun scenes as Phryne and Jack must take care not to seem to close for siblings. 

“Hence travelling as Frances and John Sutherland, amateur Australian archaeologists without the financial resources to make a name for themselves,” Jack concluded. “How fortunate then that I’ve decided to bone up on my childhood interests while here.”

Phryne looked at him, noting the small hints of a smug smile on his face.

“You know, Jack, one would almost think the pun was deliberate.”

“Thankfully you know my tastes are far too refined for puns,” he replied and she laughed at the glint in his eyes.

And there is a wonderful passage that comments on their earlier case at the observatorium, and that reflects on Phryne being rather alike her friend Lucy, who once almost got stuck in a flood because she was so focused on her work:

“That was careless of Lucy.”

Jack quirked a small smile. “She was distracted by a nearly complete skeleton they were uncovering. I cannot imagine what it would be like, working with someone so easily deterred by bones or luminescent objects.”

“If this is about the plutonium vial, I stand by my choices.”

He didn’t reply, merely smirked at a point well made; she glanced down the empty beach and then leant up to kiss his cheek.

At the same time as Phryne is standing by her choices, she is also all the time noticing how close she’s come to Jack, and contemplating on that sense of familiarity, all while not allowed to show any feelings for him openly.

In one last finished casefic, @ollyjayonline & @solitarycyclistadventures have ganged up on a case fic with plenty of tension between Phryne and Jack, “Death Under the Arch”. 

Here, Jack is going to Sydney for an undercover stint and leaves City South to a very handsome and eligible Inspector – Phryne, however, decides to join him in Sydney. The story is set after Murder and Mozzarella, right after they have said they’ll “make do” with each other, but before they have figured out what that actually means, which opens up for insecurities and misinterpretations on both sides. The mystery is set around the bridge that is being built in Sydney, and Phryne decides to play Jack’s ex-lover as a way to be able to keep watching him:

She leaned towards him, face alight with mischief, “I was thinking it could be fun if we were old friends.”

Jack almost laughed, how typical, only he would manage to go from strictly business to old friend without any of the fun in-between.

There is also a very perceptive young woman who tries to figure the two of them out, which adds to the mix of tensions and uncertainties, and a murder mystery that turns rather sad.

Finally, the section of “To be continued”: two fics that are not finished so I’ll only write shortly about them. In @missingmissfisher​’s “Hold out your hand” Jack has come after Phryne to England and meets her mother that instinctively dislikes him. It seems Margaret wants to stop her daughter from repeating her own mistakes by marrying an unsuitable man, and Margaret is something of Phryne’s kryptonite, so much annoying her that Phryne has troubles thinking straight. Added to the mix are snobbish and boring neighbours and a small mystery that turns into a much bigger and more serious one -- and how that will unfold we’ll see rather soon. @221aubrina started “The Case of the Missing Moll”, which promises to cover both the tropes undercover and bodyswap, and has just taken its beginning – so far, we only now that Jack has been drugged and taken away somewhere… 

That’s all for June from me. I am very much looking forward to the July fics, on the trope “Through time and space”!

[missfisherandjack]

DI Jack Robinson In The Episode “Marked For Murder”

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 2x06 Marked For Murder

[missfisherandjack]

DI Jack Robinson In The Episode “Game, Set & Murder”

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 3x07 Game, Set & Murder

[missfisherandjack]

DI Jack Robinson In The Episode “Death & Hysteria”

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 3x05 Death & Hysteria

[missfisherandjack]

DI Jack Robinson In The Episode “Death On The Vine”

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 2x10 Death On The Vine

[missfisherandjack]

DI Jack Robinson In The Episode “Death At The Grand”

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 3x06 Death At The Grand

[missfisherandjack]

DI Jack Robinson In The Episode “Murder & The Maiden”

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 3x02 Murder & The Maiden

[missfisherandjack]

DI Jack Robinson In The Episode “Murder On The Ballarat Train”

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 1x02 Murder On The Ballarat Train

[missfisherandjack]

“What’s this all about?”

Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (2012-2015) ↳ 1x03 The Green Mill Murder

[arlome]

In Service

For @teaandbanjo who asked for a role-reversal au + 5 head canons - Jack is the butler and Mr Butler is the detective. I twisted it up a bit, I hope it’s okay!

1.      Jack Robinson is an agent with the Secret Service. His unit sends him on an assignment to weed out a foreign spy that managed to infiltrate the higher ranks of the Victorian Police force. In order to locate and eliminate his mark, Agent Robinson is sent to Melbourne, where he finds employment with a rich lady detective who can’t keep her nose out of trouble. She immediately takes him on as her butler, claiming that he’s got a respectable air about him that fits the profession seamlessly. It’s the perfect cover; he makes a killer gratin.

 2.      What Jack Robinson doesn’t realise, until he’s left staring into the muzzle of her golden gun, is that the Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher is with the Secret Service, too, and seems to take offense at having her room not-so-secretly searched for information. Three tumblers of whisky each and two slices of his Vitoria sponge cake later they decide to start working together. After all, two heads are better than one.

 3.      Phryne’s unsuspecting contact at the Victoria Police is one Senior Detective Inspector Tobias Butler, a kind fifty-four-year-old widower with a green thumb and a sweet-tooth. He visits the house sometimes – for supper, or post-case drinks – and Jack can’t help but feel that the older man is not so naïve as he would like them to think. For one thing, the man’s knowledge of weaponry rivals his own. He voices his suspicions into Phryne’s neck one night, as the moonlight eliminates her nearly translucent skin, and she sighs, ‘you’re probably right’, and arches into him. Jack decides to let the matter slide.

 4.      Phryne’s companion, Miss Dorothy Williams, is stepping out with Butler’s constable. They sit in the kitchen, heads pressed together, and speak softly of mundane things while Jack polishes the silverware in the pantry. He was once this young and in love and spoke softly to his sweetheart of things ordinary and full of hope. But that was before the war; long before he became dour and damaged. The young, bright-eyed constable kisses Miss Williams good night and Jack’s heart twinges just a bit. He lowers the well-buffed fork he’s holding in his hands and picks up a fork.

 5.      It turns out that the foreign spy is no other than George Sanderson, the newly made Commissioner of Police. Inspector Butler makes the arrest himself, based on tips gathered by Jack and Phryne; several days later Sanderson is found dead in his cell. A heart attack, claims Doctor Macmillan; Phryne narrows her eyes at Jack but says nothing. After all, what happens in Melbourne, stays in Melbourne.

[arlome]

28 and Phryne/Jack

But of course, my darling!

 She’s hanging a recently acquired Modigliani above the mantlepiece in her parlour when the doorbell rings loud enough to wake the dead. It’s rather early for a morning call – just shy of nine in the morning – and she’s not expecting any deliveries; she’s not had the chance to order much since she arrived. A fleeting, almost naughty thought about ignoring the door crosses her mind – after all, nine am is practically the crack of dawn - but whoever seeks admission to her humble abode becomes impatient and starts pounding on the door.

With a frown and decidedly negative opinion about the person awaiting her on the threshold, she makes her increasingly livid way to the door, wrenches it open forcefully – and stops short.

Standing on the doorstep, dressed in a fitting suit of dark grey wool and maroon tie, stands one of the loveliest men she’s had the misfortune to encounter before noon. He’s grave and almost sullen-looking, his face all angles and smooth skin, eyes bright and focused, and she finds herself leaning in the doorway and smiling pleasantly. Perhaps this is her lucky day.

“Good morning,” she says politely, “how may I help you?”

She’s got some rather colourful ideas.

“Madam, I’m Detective Inspector Jack Robinson,” the man says solemnly, flashing his warrant card in her face. “May we come in?”

Startled by his words, she looks over the man’s shoulder and realises for the first time that he’s accompanied by another officer. This one is younger and in uniform; a senior constable, judging by his insignia. He’s smiling amicably at her in greeting, his handsome face open and sincere; in another life, she thinks, she’d have had great fun corrupting him.

“What’s this about, Inspector?” She asks, smiling at the constable and noting with great delight that he seems to flush rather vividly at her attention. Now, if only she could make the dour inspector blush prettily as well…

“May we come in?” the man in question repeats, getting a little impatient, and she almost crows in glee. Well, if that’s not an invitation to be difficult, she doesn’t know what is.

“I’d rather not,” she sighs, shrugging against the doorjamb, “the house is a mess, you see.”

She can tell the very second the Inspector loses his cool with her; his generous mouth thins to an irked line and he jams his hands into his trouser pockets. She’s delighted.

“Very well, Madam,” he says in a clipped tone that sends some rather inappropriate shivers down her spine, “I regret to inform you that your husband has been found dead this morning.”

Well, she certainly did not expect that.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she offers, her tone even and calm. “I wish I had the chance to have known him before he died.”

The Inspector’s face turns blank; behind him, his constable’s mouth drops open.

“I…what?”

“I don’t have a husband, Inspector,” she explains, taking pity on the two men.

She can hear the constable gulping nervously. The Inspector reaches into his suit pocket and produces a notepad; frowning deeply – and very attractively – he scrutinizes his notes.

“Are you not Amelia Northman? Of 221A?”

Oh, oh; poor man. This must not be his day.

“Afraid not…” she replies sympathetically. “I’m Phryne Fisher of 221B and I’m quite decidedly single, Inspector.”

As hints go, this is rather a massive one; somewhere high on the titanic scale.

She can see the exact moment that the handsome inspector curses rather strongly in his head, his jaw clenching and eyes pinching. Behind him, his constable blenches and sways a little on his feet. He must have been the one to obtain her address for his boss.  

“Oh, we must have gotten the wrong house…” the inspector says, pocketing his notes, and looking sufficiently apologetic. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your time, Miss Fisher.”

They mean to leave, and she finds herself reluctant to part with the handsome men and the provided entertainment. She is a woman alone, newly arrived in town, after all.

“Was it murder?” she asks, trying hard not to sound too eager.

To her utter delight, the Inspector’s lips twist at one corner in what probably appears like a muscle spasm to most, but she suspects is a sort of a smile.

“Good morning, Miss Fisher,” he replies pleasantly and turns around, barking instructions at his still rather pale constable, who glances at her with a somewhat sickly farewell smile.

Once they’re gone, she heads for the kitchen and prepares a steaming cup of tea for herself and takes it with her to the veranda at the front of her house. She breathes the salty sea breeze in and sighs in utter contentment. It shouldn’t take long now; she can hear wailing from the adjacent house.

Soon enough, she can see the policemen heading towards their car, about to pass her little red gate.

“How did she take it?” she calls out and takes a calculated, long sip of scalding tea.

The cops stop in their tracks and regard her for a moment, then the Inspector leans to speak quietly to the constable. The young man nods exuberantly and walks away, while the senior officer opens the gate and comes up the path, stopping right in front of her.

“Your standard weeping widow?” she inquires dryly when he says nothing at all.

The inspector shoves his hands in his pockets again and shrugs noncommitting, his lips inching downwards.

“As standard as they come,” he replies, his tone giving nothing away. Well, she’s shrewder than that.

“But you’re not convinced.”

He narrows his eyes at her, seemingly annoyed with her butting curiosity and interference, but she can tell from the glint in his eyes that she’s piqued his interest.

“Would you like some tea?” she tries her luck. “I have biscuits – fresh from the bakery down the road.”

“I’m on duty, Miss Fisher,” he admonishes her, but she can tell from his momentarily widening eyes at her mention of baked goods, that he’s more than interested to linger in her company.

“Surely you need to question me, Inspector?” she tries again, aiming for a soft, decided push. “As a neighbour, I might be a witness, after all.”

He perks up at that and takes a step backwards as she rises to stand.

“How long have you been living here?” he asks her as she gathers her tea things and heads inside. She’s delighted to discover him following her to the kitchen.

“A week,” she says and dumps the cup in the sink.

He gives her an exasperated look as she takes two fresh mugs out of a cupboard and turns the kettle on.

“I’m very perceptive, Inspector, as I’m sure you’ll find,” she explains, and plates some biscuits. “I’ve got a good eye for details.”

“Have you, now,” he indulges her as he settles into one of the wooden chairs and relaxes. She takes a good look at his hands.

“I do,” she confirms, pouring hot water into the ready mugs and sliding one towards him. He accepts the steaming cup with a nod of thanks. “For example, I can tell that you’re divorced.”

He nearly spills the tea down his trousers and chokes on a biscuit.

“H-how…?” he coughs, and she nods towards his left hand.

“You’re not wearing a ring, but there’s a soft tan line where a ring should be…it’s very recent, isn’t it?”

He sighs and fiddles with his spoon.

“A few months,” he confirms reluctantly.

Well, well; lucky her.

“See? An eye for details – and Amelia Northman hated her husband. They had rows that would keep the entire neighbourhood awake at night, and she had a battalion of lovers.”

His lips twist in something akin to grudging admiration.

“Learned all that from a week’s stay, have you?”

She shrugs in fake nonchalance, but her blood is boiling. This – him – it’s all going to be so much fun.

“Eye for details, remember?” she almost purrs and leans with her elbows over the table. “How about you come tonight, and I’ll tell you all about it? I may have some insights relevant to the case. Perhaps some supper for potential information, Inspector Robinson?”

He’s definitely smiling now, and he tries to make it look as if he’s exasperated with her, but she knows better; she’s caught his interest, and he’s intrigued. Well, she can work with that.

“Call me Jack,” he says instead of answering, “everybody else does.”

“Then you must call me Phryne,” she simpers as he rises from his seat. He takes his mug to the sink and rinses out the tea, then he reaches inside his suit jacket and produces a card. She takes it from his fingers and twirls it a little in front of his face. He smiles again.

“Thank you for the tea, Miss Fisher,” he says politely and bows his head a little, and she finds this little gesture and his reluctance to address her informally rather endearing.

“Jack,” she acknowledges and sees him to the door, smiling almost wolfishly at his retreating back.

Yes, this is all going to be so much fun.