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Jack had long ago accepted the dangers of his chosen profession. Every time he left the station he was in danger of being shot, or stabbed, or beaten. He had realized all of this, and had more or less come to terms with it. Jack Robinson did not fear death - hadn't since the war. It was that lack of fear that had lead to him being tied to a chair in a some dank warehouse by the docks.
Jack was starting to understand why Cec and Bert had both been so keen on leaving the business behind. If this warehouse was standard working environment, Jack would definitely start enforcing working conditions more.
"How much does Fisher know, copper?" A thug asked.
Oh yes. The matter at hand. Miss Fisher.
When Jack had been walking to his car the previous evening, he'd been jumped by a group of fine upstanding gentlemen. If the kind of men who beat police with lead pipes could be considered upstanding gentlemen. Jack was leaning towards 'no' himself.
"I'm not aware," Jack said, his speech not nearly as strong as he would have liked. "If you have any experience with Miss Fisher I'm sure you're aware that she's not exactly forthcoming with information." One of the thugs snickered at that, and despite the situation, Jack felt a smirk grace his face. He quickly dropped the expression upon realizing that contorting his face in such a way currently caused pain.
"You're a right clown, Detective Inspector. Unfortunately, all my good humors been lost. Or should I say taken? Stolen by the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher? You see, I had a nice thing going before she came around."
"Join the club," Jack muttered.
"I was running this nice little dice club out of my brother funeral parlour," the head goon continued, not having heard Jack's comment "Alright, maybe that was in poor taste on my part. I'll admit that. But I never heard none of those stiffs complaining. I was doing well, and then Fisher shows up and it all goes up in smoke. But I'm sure you're well aware of all of this, Detective Inspector."
"That would require Miss Fisher sharing her discoveries, and we've already discussed how often that happens."
"Stop making jokes!" The gangster in charge bellowed, a vein in his neck bulging at what Jack suspected was a dangerous level. A part of him was glad that Phryne was finally giving other people aneurysms.
"I didn't even know that Miss Fisher was investigating a gambling operation," Jack volunteered. That much was true. Phryne had been surprisingly tight lipped as of late, but Jack had chalked that up to Murdoch Foyle.
The gambler backhanded Jack. Jack let his head be whipped to the side, and responded by spitting blood at the man. Jack's mind registered the sound of a scuffle outside the room they were in, and he felt his face contort into a feral grin.
"Luckily for me, there is one thing I do know about Miss Fisher. She has a way of appearing when you least want her to."
As Jack finished speaking, the door to the room was kicked in, and three sets of footsteps rushed in. The two in work boots started taking care of the many thugs, taking the crook in front of Jack out first, while the pair of heels rushed to the chair that Jack was propped up in. Now that he knew he was almost safe, he felt himself being dragged into blackness.
"Oh, Jack, thank god," the familiar voice of Phryne Fisher hissed, emotion dripping off of every word. "Had us all worried sick. Even Bert and Cec were terrified for you."
"Where's Collins?" Jack slurred, putting almost all of his energy into staying conscious.
"I... might not have waited for him. Don't worry, though. Bert and Cec are just as good at subduing suspects as they are at bar brawls!" Phryne exclaimed, obviously trying to waylay his fears.
That's not very comforting, Phryne, was Jack's last thought before succumbing to the darkness he'd been fighting.
When Jack awoke, it was to the sight of Dr. Macmillan standing over him with a chart.
"Oh good. You're awake. Swear to God, somebody has been knocking on that damn door every five minutes asking how you're doing. That's not even mentioning how often Phryne asked," Dr. Macmillan said, nodding towards the armchair in the corner. In the chair, Phryne was tucked into a position that could not have been comfortable; despite that fact, she was also fast asleep.
"Where am I?" Jack whispered, turning his attention back to the doctor. He felt as if each thought was a battle, a fight against the drugs that the doctor must have given him.
"Phryne's guest bedroom. Tried to convince her to let me take you to a hospital, but she just kept insisting that you'd be much better off here." Dr. Macmillan paused, glancing between her friend and the detective inspector. "Well, I best go update the household on your condition," she said quickly, moving to the door and slipping out before Jack could respond.
"I love that woman," Phryne murmured. Jack's head snapped to the woman, and he felt his heart warm at the grin on her face.
"I quite enjoy her as well. Though, I expect you'd have more success seducing her."
"Now come Jack; jealousy is not an attractive trait." Jack grinned, though his expression quickly mirrored Phryne's somber expression. "They wanted me, didn't they?"
"Perhaps."
"Perhaps," Phryne repeated, adding a broken chuckle. "I knew this case wasn't going to go as smoothly as I had imagined. Admittedly, I had been under the impression that it would be me who was taken. If I had know they'd kidnap and beat you, Jack..."
"You still would have done it, Phryne," Jack murmured, a smile returning to his face. "That's one of the things I love about you, Miss Fisher. You're very good at putting justice above all else. We're not different in that way. I do admit, I would have liked to have been aware of this case of yours. At the very least it would have stopped me from getting snatched leaving the station."
Phryne smiled fondly, before standing and moving towards the bed. "There are many traits of yours that I adore, Detective Inspector. Perhaps sometime I'll get a chance to explore them more."
"I think I would quite enjoy that," Jack mumbled, his eyes sliding closed as he lost the battle against the drugs in his system.