@balticprincess Merry Christmas from your Secret Santa! My gift to you is a small Christmas ficlet, and your very own gingerbread-shaped felt Jack and Phryne. If you’re happy to DM me your address, they’re very excited to meet you! I hope you enjoy the ficlet, and that you have a wonderful Christmas 🎄🎄🎄
(P.S. I hope you can forgive me for giving Jack the wrong colour hat. I only realised once I’d almost finished him, and I may or may not have thrown him across the room in frustration!)
Jack was stood in her hallway, and all Phryne could do was stare. His hair was longer than she’d ever seen it, errant curls poking out from the brim of his hat. His face was scattered with stubble, and his skin darkened from his travels, but it was still, undeniably, Jack Robinson.
“Miss Fisher.”
“Jack.” For once she found herself struck dumb, unable to do much except state the obvious. “You’re early.”
“My apologies.” Jack smiled, no doubt amused that for once he’d managed to surprise her. “I managed to catch an earlier connection, and thought I would join you for Christmas. I hope you don’t mind my intrusion.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can find some way of making it up to me.”
“And I’m sure you’ll help me come up with ideas.” Jack retorted, “Although, I do have something for you.”
Phryne waited with baited breath, hoping Jack’s something was a continuation of what they’d begun on the airfield. Instead, however, Jack pulled a small cream envelope from his pocket, holding it out slightly sheepishly. Phryne took it, intrigued despite her slight disappointment, only to become even more confused as she recognised the handwriting on the front.
“It’s from Jane.” Jack admitted, “She made me promise to give it to you immediately, before, well, anything… else.”
He coughed, and Phryne noticed with delight that a slight blush had crept across his cheeks, making her wonder exactly what sort of anything else Jack had in mind. His firm stance on her doorstep told her that she wouldn’t find out until she opened the envelope, however, and so she proceeded to do so with unbridled curiosity.
She’d expected card, but instead a small sprig of greenery fell into her open palm. As soon as she recognised it she laughed aloud, lifting up the gift to dangle it above her head. For a moment Jack simply looked at her, bemused, but as soon as his eyes alighted on the greenery in her hand his laughter joined hers. In two steps his arm was around her waist, his lips lowering to capture hers, and she let go of her gift to bury her hand in his hair.
It wasn’t long before she dragged him upstairs, leaving the hallway with nothing but a battered suitcase and an abandoned sprig of green mistletoe.
