Author's Note: I very strongly felt this bit was missing from episode 1x12 "Murder in the Dark", at the costume party, when Phryne wants Jack to change into a Marc Anthony costume to match her Cleopatra.
“Come on, Jack - just one gaudy night...”
She was standing so close, her heavy Egyptian perfume tickling his nose, and her hands were dexterously loosening his tie. Jack swallowed, hard, and looked into her eyes, sparkling in tandem with her fake gold Cleopatra crown, and his hold on his self-restraint, rather tenuous whenever she was around anyways, snapped almost audibly.
He closed the small gap between them, pulling her white-clad body towards him forcefully, and claiming her lips in a kiss, the hunger of which did not surprise him in the least, not after that first time in the restaurant. Phryne, on the other hand, gasped against his mouth and stiffened for just a second, before apparently coming to terms with this development and melting against him. No wilting damsel here, not Phryne, and Jack reveled in the way her arms wrapped around his neck possessively, pulling him even closer, not in the least bit hesitant about pushing her hips against his quickly hardening erection and setting a rhythm that left him breathless.
He broke the kiss and moved his lips along her neck, letting his hands wander over her back, scrunching up the almost-see through fabric as he tasted her skin, just as soft and creamy as he’d imagined in too many nights of guilty pleasure. Not that there was anything to feel guilty over, not anymore, not after the Magistrate’s Court and Becky’s calm face when they signed the papers. But this was not what he wanted to think about right now, and it was easy not to, because Phryne had slipped a small hand into the front of his suit and Jack groaned and pushed himself into her palm. Once, twice, then he forced himself to break away.
Not far, though, just enough to drop to his knees and slide her slinky white dress up her legs. His fingers touched what had to be the most expensive silk stockings, then found her garters and finally her soft skin. Phryne sighed with pleasure and threaded her hands through his hair, a sensation that caused Jack to close his eyes and lean in, resting his head against Phryne’s stomach while his fingers explored the warm moistness between her legs.
The way she said his name, half-amused, half-surprised, made him get back to his feet and kiss her again while she pushed herself against his fingers. There was her hand again, and the way their kisses became more frantic, interrupted by increasingly harsh gasps for breath, and Jack used his unoccupied hand to cup one of her small, firm breasts, thumb teasing a pert nipple. Phryne hiccuped a laugh and came apart on his fingers, her body shuddering, and Jack came back to his senses.
He stepped away and gently straightened her costume, before proceeding to tuck his shirt back into his trousers, willing his body to calm down. Phryne was also pulling herself together, for once following his lead without arguing, although unsurprisingly her eyes were glittering mischievously.
“If you really want a Roman soldier, then I’ll take it from here.” Jack’s throat was dry, and he wasn’t quite sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when Phryne gave in gracefully and walked away.
