[stories told over ice cream]
I've been trying to write this post since tangleofthorns and I went to the Red Sox game two Fridays ago--the less said about that and the Red Sox as a whole this season the better--but last week was A. Week., I tell you what, so it's taken longer than anyone ever could've imagined. Anyway, on the long and humid walk home (with ice cream! strawberry rhubarb ftw!) from Fenway, the shame of blowing an 8-1 lead heavy in our hearts, we talked out the Miss Fisher happy!epic we will never actually write.
So. They get married for a case! Shady registry office employee, marrying off people in a human trafficking scheme, handwavey details that require our intrepid heroes to pretend to be getting married to get a look at the books. Now, Dot's supposed to come in and object, but, handwave again, something happens, and she doesn't! Bert and Cec are there as witnesses, but they also don't object because they know the plan was for Dot to do so and if she didn't then Miss Fisher must've told her not to and maybe the plan changed.
"I now pronounce you man and wife," the Registry officer said. Graham Gibson didn't even try to disguise his boredom. Nor his instant dislike of Miss Fisher--Mrs. Robinson now, Jack thought, and felt his heart beat spike. He leaned against a nearby bookshelf. Smiled, probably not particularly reassuringly, when Miss Fisher looked his way. Mr. Gibson finished signing his name to their papers and looked up at their assembled party with a frown.
Miss Fisher turned to him, smiling her most stunning smile, and asked if she might have a glass of water. "The emotions, you know," she said. He coughed. His face was red, sweaty, and he acquiesced seemingly against his own will, standing and marching out the door.
"You were supposed to object," she said. Her fingers traced the bottom of Mr. Gibson's desk, and Jack began to flip through the appointment book. Bert and Cec began pulling things off the bookshelf on the opposite wall.
"No," Bert said. "Dottie said she'd do the honors."
"When she didn't show," Cec added, "We figured you'd changed your minds about that bit."
"Not as such, no," Jack said. He skimmed the notations in the book: there was something off, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Miss Fisher," he said, "Come take a look at this."
So, yes, they solve the crime! Shady registry officer is arrested! Our heroes win the day!
And then they go back to Phryne's place and Aunt P surprises them with a wedding reception (because she found about the marriage somehow--maybe Dot told her? or Hugh somehow? handwave!). And Jack and Phryne are both not at all sure what they're doing here. And Phryne tries to tell Aunt P to just cool it already with the edding-way, but, well, party. Drinks. Tipsy Jack and Phryne end up locked in her bedroom somehow, and while at first they try to keep things non-sexual (they might want to get an annulment, who can say?) let's be real that's not happening for long. Not in this story.
So: Phryne is trying to be good because, you know, sleeping with Jack is one thing, but doing it when they're married kind of against their will and they haven't had a chance to talk about it is another. And what if he regrets it? That's something she's not sure she can take.
And then Jack begins to untie his own tie. Miss Fisher takes a few steps toward him, until they're standing close in that way they always do--that way that makes us all yell "just bang already" at the TV while we watch. And then, well:
"Why, Mrs. Robinson," Jack said. "You're trying to seduce me."
"Is it working?" Phryne asked.
It works. They kiss. His hands in her hair, hers pulling his tie through his collar and dropping it to the floor. Her fingers working his buttons. And, yes, they probably should talk this through first--contrary to probably everyone else's belief, this is the first time they're doing this--but, well, the most talk they manage is a) making sure birth control's set and b) agreeing that it's nice with her on top like that, especially when she uses his tie on his wrists.
After that, they have sex. A lot. And they continue to skirt the issue of their strange marriage of not-quite-convenience. They chase down criminals, and if Jack is suddenly spending more nights at her place than his own, well, that's nobody's business but their own. And Mr. B's. She still goes out as much as she always has; sometimes he'll join her, but more often than not he'll stay home (or at her place) (at her place) with a book and some music and a drink. And she'll roll in at sunrise, and he'll be in her bed with an open book on his chest as he sleeps. She'll manage to remove her shoes, but will crawl into bed next to him fully dressed. He'll roll toward her. Half awake, both of them, they'll trade kisses back and forth until she no longer tastes the champagne she spent the night drinking.
And it's not always easy. He's prone to jealousy, especially early on--and she surprises herself with the odd fit of it herself. They work hard at it. They work really hard at being a couple and living together and all that marriage stuff. She continues to go by Fisher publicly, which stings him more than he'd expected (he knew, after all, that she was a modern woman with a career and a life and). He's more old fashioned than she is. Of course, he slips once and calls her "Miss Fisher" in the bedroom, and, well, eventually it stops bothering him quite so much. Positive reinforcement and all that. (Plus she does get "Mrs. Robinson"d on occasion. He can never quite manage to not smile, just a little, when that happens. She's kicked him in the shin more than once for that.)
He keeps his place. At first because they're both prone to the odd sulk, and even Phryne's large house isn't always big enough. Plus he's proud, and it's difficult for him to adjust to the fact that he's married into money. (He and Hugh have more than one "father-son" type conversation about some of the challenges they face as "modern" men. Over a few drinks, and on one memorable occasion while fishing. They don't speak of that time. Or the fate of Jack's favorite hat.) But slowly, surely, they settle into something that works. She accepts that he really doesn't want to change her; he accepts that she really wants to come home to him. And if she goes out and she flirts--and she maybe does more than flirt--with other men, well, those other men never follow her home. And if he's learned to charm women into the odd confession--all part of the job, he thinks--she knows that he never actually means it. (He's a one woman man, after all, even if she's never going to be a one man woman. Except in the ways that count. The way that counts to him.) And then because it's useful.
At some point in all this they get divorced. Also for a case. The judge lectures Jack about marriage, telling him that maybe it isn't his strong suit. Jack flinches. His hands tense into fists. And of course it's not like Phryne can reach out like she wants to; she can't even adjust his slightly crooked tie. (Before they go in for the divorce, they fight over the reasons they'll give. She says they might as well say she cheated--everyone will believe it, and if you squint it's almost even true. But he's adamant they don't go that route. He'll take the blame. It's the least he can do. Their fight is intense, and personal, and they sleep separately for a week before compromising. He moves back into his old place until the divorce goes through. They're both pretty miserable.) The guilty party turns out to be a clerk, but at least he's arrested and put behind bars.
Phryne drives them home. They don't even stop for his bags. She speeds, of course, and he pretends to mind. He's never quite sure if she actually says "we're home, Mr. B, take the rest of the day off" or if he imagines that part, but they definitely don't make it out of the foyer with their clothes on so he chooses to believe that Mr. Butler left or wasn't there to begin with. (He has a feeling he's deluding himself about that.)
The end up having to renegotiate their relationship in light of the divorce. It's more hard work--possibly harder this time because Jack no longer has that piece of paper declaring them legally bound to one another, and he trusts Phryne but he maybe doesn't trust himself to not fuck this all up. He's not as modern as he wishes he could be for her, after all.
So they're careful, and they work, and they have sex in every room in the house. (Jane, home from university, only walks in on them once. They relearn to lock doors. Or close them, at the very least.) And it works. It works, and Phryne never has to bristle at being called Mrs. Robinson (she never did hide it as well as she thought), and Jack's brain finally catches up to the fact that it was never that stupid piece of paper that had Phryne coming home to him in the morning, makeup smudged and slightly drunk.
They stay together. For Jack's 60th birthday, Phryne surprises him with another registry wedding--"That is, if you want to," she says--and he says "yes, of course" with his lips pressed to hers because he loves this woman more than anything. They never tell anyone. It's just for them.
"After you, Miss Fisher," Jack said. He followed her out the door and into the rain; his hand rested comfortably at the small of her back, and she kept turning back to smile at him. He stopped just outside the building and kissed her--how could he not?--right there against the wall of the registry office.
She wiped the lipstick from his mouth. Plucked the keys from his pocket. "I'll drive," she said.
He followed.
The end.
(There's other stuff that goes in the middle somewhere, but that's the bit we might actually write--stop laughing--so I left it out. That's basically an outline of the whole universe, though. Happy, sappy, kind of cracky, and full of happily ever afters. Dot and Hugh have 4 children in close succession, and they name the oldest girl Mary Phryne. Phryne waits until she's old enough for reason before really interacting with her, but then teaches her judo and gives her books that are completely inappropriate and is a terrible wonderful aunt. Mary becomes a lawyer. And youngest son Matthew becomes a priest, which makes Dot very happy indeed. At one point, Jack and Hugh sit with the twins while Dot and Phryne are out sleuthing, and Hugh asks Jack, "Do you and Miss Fisher ever--" and Jack just blurts out "oh god no." He's happy being a doting uncle figure.)
Oh, and if you're not up to date: there are no specific season 3 spoilers in here, but I'm up to date with the show and can't promise absolutely nothing seeped into this ridiculousness. So fair warning, etc., and all that jazz.
This entry also lives at Dreamwidth. Comment here, comment there, comment anywhere. I'm partial to Pony Express.
Click to viewSo. They get married for a case! Shady registry office employee, marrying off people in a human trafficking scheme, handwavey details that require our intrepid heroes to pretend to be getting married to get a look at the books. Now, Dot's supposed to come in and object, but, handwave again, something happens, and she doesn't! Bert and Cec are there as witnesses, but they also don't object because they know the plan was for Dot to do so and if she didn't then Miss Fisher must've told her not to and maybe the plan changed.
"I now pronounce you man and wife," the Registry officer said. Graham Gibson didn't even try to disguise his boredom. Nor his instant dislike of Miss Fisher--Mrs. Robinson now, Jack thought, and felt his heart beat spike. He leaned against a nearby bookshelf. Smiled, probably not particularly reassuringly, when Miss Fisher looked his way. Mr. Gibson finished signing his name to their papers and looked up at their assembled party with a frown.
Miss Fisher turned to him, smiling her most stunning smile, and asked if she might have a glass of water. "The emotions, you know," she said. He coughed. His face was red, sweaty, and he acquiesced seemingly against his own will, standing and marching out the door.
"You were supposed to object," she said. Her fingers traced the bottom of Mr. Gibson's desk, and Jack began to flip through the appointment book. Bert and Cec began pulling things off the bookshelf on the opposite wall.
"No," Bert said. "Dottie said she'd do the honors."
"When she didn't show," Cec added, "We figured you'd changed your minds about that bit."
"Not as such, no," Jack said. He skimmed the notations in the book: there was something off, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Miss Fisher," he said, "Come take a look at this."
So, yes, they solve the crime! Shady registry officer is arrested! Our heroes win the day!
And then they go back to Phryne's place and Aunt P surprises them with a wedding reception (because she found about the marriage somehow--maybe Dot told her? or Hugh somehow? handwave!). And Jack and Phryne are both not at all sure what they're doing here. And Phryne tries to tell Aunt P to just cool it already with the edding-way, but, well, party. Drinks. Tipsy Jack and Phryne end up locked in her bedroom somehow, and while at first they try to keep things non-sexual (they might want to get an annulment, who can say?) let's be real that's not happening for long. Not in this story.
So: Phryne is trying to be good because, you know, sleeping with Jack is one thing, but doing it when they're married kind of against their will and they haven't had a chance to talk about it is another. And what if he regrets it? That's something she's not sure she can take.
And then Jack begins to untie his own tie. Miss Fisher takes a few steps toward him, until they're standing close in that way they always do--that way that makes us all yell "just bang already" at the TV while we watch. And then, well:
"Why, Mrs. Robinson," Jack said. "You're trying to seduce me."
"Is it working?" Phryne asked.
It works. They kiss. His hands in her hair, hers pulling his tie through his collar and dropping it to the floor. Her fingers working his buttons. And, yes, they probably should talk this through first--contrary to probably everyone else's belief, this is the first time they're doing this--but, well, the most talk they manage is a) making sure birth control's set and b) agreeing that it's nice with her on top like that, especially when she uses his tie on his wrists.
After that, they have sex. A lot. And they continue to skirt the issue of their strange marriage of not-quite-convenience. They chase down criminals, and if Jack is suddenly spending more nights at her place than his own, well, that's nobody's business but their own. And Mr. B's. She still goes out as much as she always has; sometimes he'll join her, but more often than not he'll stay home (or at her place) (at her place) with a book and some music and a drink. And she'll roll in at sunrise, and he'll be in her bed with an open book on his chest as he sleeps. She'll manage to remove her shoes, but will crawl into bed next to him fully dressed. He'll roll toward her. Half awake, both of them, they'll trade kisses back and forth until she no longer tastes the champagne she spent the night drinking.
And it's not always easy. He's prone to jealousy, especially early on--and she surprises herself with the odd fit of it herself. They work hard at it. They work really hard at being a couple and living together and all that marriage stuff. She continues to go by Fisher publicly, which stings him more than he'd expected (he knew, after all, that she was a modern woman with a career and a life and). He's more old fashioned than she is. Of course, he slips once and calls her "Miss Fisher" in the bedroom, and, well, eventually it stops bothering him quite so much. Positive reinforcement and all that. (Plus she does get "Mrs. Robinson"d on occasion. He can never quite manage to not smile, just a little, when that happens. She's kicked him in the shin more than once for that.)
He keeps his place. At first because they're both prone to the odd sulk, and even Phryne's large house isn't always big enough. Plus he's proud, and it's difficult for him to adjust to the fact that he's married into money. (He and Hugh have more than one "father-son" type conversation about some of the challenges they face as "modern" men. Over a few drinks, and on one memorable occasion while fishing. They don't speak of that time. Or the fate of Jack's favorite hat.) But slowly, surely, they settle into something that works. She accepts that he really doesn't want to change her; he accepts that she really wants to come home to him. And if she goes out and she flirts--and she maybe does more than flirt--with other men, well, those other men never follow her home. And if he's learned to charm women into the odd confession--all part of the job, he thinks--she knows that he never actually means it. (He's a one woman man, after all, even if she's never going to be a one man woman. Except in the ways that count. The way that counts to him.) And then because it's useful.
At some point in all this they get divorced. Also for a case. The judge lectures Jack about marriage, telling him that maybe it isn't his strong suit. Jack flinches. His hands tense into fists. And of course it's not like Phryne can reach out like she wants to; she can't even adjust his slightly crooked tie. (Before they go in for the divorce, they fight over the reasons they'll give. She says they might as well say she cheated--everyone will believe it, and if you squint it's almost even true. But he's adamant they don't go that route. He'll take the blame. It's the least he can do. Their fight is intense, and personal, and they sleep separately for a week before compromising. He moves back into his old place until the divorce goes through. They're both pretty miserable.) The guilty party turns out to be a clerk, but at least he's arrested and put behind bars.
Phryne drives them home. They don't even stop for his bags. She speeds, of course, and he pretends to mind. He's never quite sure if she actually says "we're home, Mr. B, take the rest of the day off" or if he imagines that part, but they definitely don't make it out of the foyer with their clothes on so he chooses to believe that Mr. Butler left or wasn't there to begin with. (He has a feeling he's deluding himself about that.)
The end up having to renegotiate their relationship in light of the divorce. It's more hard work--possibly harder this time because Jack no longer has that piece of paper declaring them legally bound to one another, and he trusts Phryne but he maybe doesn't trust himself to not fuck this all up. He's not as modern as he wishes he could be for her, after all.
So they're careful, and they work, and they have sex in every room in the house. (Jane, home from university, only walks in on them once. They relearn to lock doors. Or close them, at the very least.) And it works. It works, and Phryne never has to bristle at being called Mrs. Robinson (she never did hide it as well as she thought), and Jack's brain finally catches up to the fact that it was never that stupid piece of paper that had Phryne coming home to him in the morning, makeup smudged and slightly drunk.
They stay together. For Jack's 60th birthday, Phryne surprises him with another registry wedding--"That is, if you want to," she says--and he says "yes, of course" with his lips pressed to hers because he loves this woman more than anything. They never tell anyone. It's just for them.
"After you, Miss Fisher," Jack said. He followed her out the door and into the rain; his hand rested comfortably at the small of her back, and she kept turning back to smile at him. He stopped just outside the building and kissed her--how could he not?--right there against the wall of the registry office.
She wiped the lipstick from his mouth. Plucked the keys from his pocket. "I'll drive," she said.
He followed.
The end.
(There's other stuff that goes in the middle somewhere, but that's the bit we might actually write--stop laughing--so I left it out. That's basically an outline of the whole universe, though. Happy, sappy, kind of cracky, and full of happily ever afters. Dot and Hugh have 4 children in close succession, and they name the oldest girl Mary Phryne. Phryne waits until she's old enough for reason before really interacting with her, but then teaches her judo and gives her books that are completely inappropriate and is a terrible wonderful aunt. Mary becomes a lawyer. And youngest son Matthew becomes a priest, which makes Dot very happy indeed. At one point, Jack and Hugh sit with the twins while Dot and Phryne are out sleuthing, and Hugh asks Jack, "Do you and Miss Fisher ever--" and Jack just blurts out "oh god no." He's happy being a doting uncle figure.)
Oh, and if you're not up to date: there are no specific season 3 spoilers in here, but I'm up to date with the show and can't promise absolutely nothing seeped into this ridiculousness. So fair warning, etc., and all that jazz.
This entry also lives at Dreamwidth. Comment here, comment there, comment anywhere. I'm partial to Pony Express.