Black cats at midnight. Broken mirrors on Friday. Ladders over rabbit-filled walkways - or were rabbits actually supposed to but lucky?
He groaned. What did it even matter... She was worse than an unlucky penny - than thirteen unlucky pennies. She continued to turn up on his crime scenes, meddling with his investigations; and he could not be rid of her.
He smiled slightly. One would think that after the many misadventures she encountred and - admittedly - weathered that she would be wary of barging in like a freight train; but she continued. Of course, as she enjoyed pointing out, she did make an enchanting 'freight train'. But that lovely visage was perpetually ruined by the shortly following images of 'bent' laws and general interference.
How often had she taken evidence from the scene of the crime? How often had she rode along on his investigation without thought for what what trouble she might cause? How often had she waltzed straight into danger because she was too stubborn to call - or wait - for any backup?
Quite a few more times than he ever cared to count, and he was quite certain that there would be many more such instances looming in his future. There would be more costume parties, and dances, and stolen evidence, and nightmares in his future, surely. However, there would also be many solved mysteries in their future as well.
For every bit of stolen evidence, there would be a clue that he may have missed. For every awkward dance, there would be a wonderful memory. For every nightmare, there would be joy and peace.
She was like a penny. Brilliant, polished, and perhaps a little underrated at times. And, just like a penny, she kept showing up even when lost. Perhaps, instead of an unlucky coin, she was a very lucky one.
AN: I don't know if I'll actually post this... A character study of Jack and Phryne. Especially his amused/resigned reactions to her continual interference - often quite imaginative - with his investigations. I've only seen the first series so far... 7-2-2015