**A Sniffling Start**

Phryne Fisher blew her nose for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, the sound of her sniffles and sneezes echoing through the St Kilda police station as she met with Detective Inspector Jack Robinson. The station's waiting room was quiet, save for the occasional sniffle or rustle of papers, and Phryne's congestion seemed to be the only sound that broke the silence. "Ah, Phryne, good morning," Jack said, his eyes crinkling with concern as he rose from his seat behind the desk. "I trust you're feeling better than you look?" Phryne smiled weakly, her eyes red and puffy from lack of sleep and excessive blowing of her nose. "I'm fine, Jack. Just a bit of a cold. A minor cold, I assure you." She sniffed and wiped her nose on a crumpled handkerchief, trying to appear convincing. Jack raised an eyebrow. "You look like you've been up all night, Phryne. And what's with the...ah...perfume?" Phryne glanced down at her clothes, realizing with a start that she was probably wearing more tissues and handkerchiefs than actual clothing. She had changed into a fresh set of clothes that morning, but it seemed like her cold had other plans. "Just a little... sinus issue, that's all," she said, sniffling again. As they set out to investigate a string of burglaries in the affluent suburb, Phryne's sniffles and sneezes became more frequent. She insisted she was fine, just a bit...under the weather. Jack wasn't so sure. Her eyes were red, her nose was red and raw, and her voice was barely above a whisper. The case they were working on was a puzzling one. A wealthy businessman had been robbed of a valuable collection of jewels and artifacts, and the police were stumped. Phryne, with her remarkable skills of observation and deduction, was just the person Jack needed to help crack the case. As they walked through the streets of St Kilda, Phryne's sneezes grew more frequent and more explosive. She would blow her nose, sniffle, and sneeze again, all within the span of a few minutes. Jack watched her with growing concern, trying to hide his frustration. "Phryne, perhaps you should take it easy today?" he suggested, as they stopped outside a mansion that was the scene of the latest burglary. Phryne shook her head, her eyes flashing with determination. "No, no, Jack. I'm fine. Just a bit... Ah-choo!" She sneezed, a massive, wet explosion that left her gasping for breath. Jack winced. "Phryne, maybe you should... Ah, blast it all, you're soaking through another handkerchief, aren't you?" Phryne looked down at the soggy mess in her hand and shrugged. "It's just a bit of... Ah-choo! Oh, dear me. Sorry about that." Their interviews at the mansion were a blur of Phryne's sniffles, sneezes, and apologetic smiles. Jack tried to hide his growing frustration, but it was clear that Phryne's condition was starting to take a toll on her work. As they left the mansion, Phryne's sneezes became even more violent, prompting Jack to send her home for the day. "Phryne, I think you've had enough for today," he said firmly, as she let out another massive sneeze. "You're not well, and I won't have you collapsing on me in the middle of the case." Phryne looked at him, her eyes flashing with protest, but Jack was firm. "I'll see you tomorrow, Phryne. Try to rest and recover. We can handle this without you for today." With a huff, Phryne gathered her things and left the station, determined to prove to Jack – and herself – that she was more than capable of handling a little cold. Little did she know, her cold was only just beginning to show its true colors.