TITLE: Home 1/?

AUTHOR: Kylie (kyliesmilie26)

PAIRING: Lucien and Jean


SUMMARY: Thoughts on that moment and episode in Season 2. Told predominantly from Jean's POV. Could be a one-shot, but it could turn into a multi-chapter… I guess that'll be your decision. :)

NOTES: This is my first fic in a good 2-3 years. My job in the real world, along with eye issues resulted in this rather long absence from fic writing. Also, I guess the muse has not been particularly motivated… until reading the small, but amazing Doctor Blake Mysteries fanfic, and of course the show itself. It is simply one of the best shows currently in production and I'm proud to be from the country (and state) of its birth. Partially inspired by the recent fic from Crinklybrownleaves based on the wonderful final scene of Season 2. The scene/episode itself no doubt also has played its part. ;) My thanks to you both xo

No doubt I'm not the first to write something on this episode!

Hope you enjoy. :)


The phone's piercing shrill halted their movements; breaking the spell that had befallen them. "I'll get that," She murmured, gently and quickly entangling herself from his embrace to answer the telephone, both feeling relieved and annoyed, (not that she wanted to admit it to herself), at the interruption.

What had just happened?

This was the phrase that was seemingly stuck on repeat in her mind. That didn't just really happen, did it?

Surely not?


Jean's world had turned upside down in the last few days. Jack's return to Ballarat created a whirlwind of events and threw the Blake/Beazley/O'Brien household into a tailspin. It didn't start out badly, in fact quite the opposite – Jean was most proud of her youngest son winning the race around Lake Wendouree. Not to mention a little more than embarrassed when he had placed his medal around her. But it all changed seemingly instantly following the brutal murders of three members of the Dennison family.

Suspicion had soon turned to Jack when it was made known he was associated with two known criminals from up near Shepparton, and when the ute that was seen at their house the night prior was one and the same. Jean hated that her son found himself again in trouble with the law; it brought back too many raw memories of his troubles from ten years ago… and her guilt, did she do enough? She had tried her best to disregard her own misery and put everything she could into her boys, but was it enough?

Despite all her son's flaws, she knew he did not kill that family, it was not in him. And of course, her anger and maternal instincts kicked in when the harassing phone calls, and those drunken thugs came by the house. When one of her treasured pot plants was shattered on the front door she lost what remained of her composure and marched out the door in spite of Mattie's pleas.

"Excuse me, can I help you gentlemen?"

When she heard the word prick, her anger really flared. "I believe you are referring to my son, and I won't hear you speaking of him in that manner…"

His shove to the ground was unexpected, and it hurt. And not just her pride. She awkwardly landed on her right wrist, twisting it painfully. The fast forming gravel rash stung too. Not that she was going to let it show. Jean Beazley always maintained her pride and composure. Outwardly at least. She had become an expert at keeping her innermost feelings hidden.

First Mattie, then Lucien jumped to her defence. When had he arrived? She'd barely noticed the screeching tyres of the police car. But by the time she had got to her feet, the doctor was punching the lout quite forcefully. Jean was sure he would have rendered the other man unconscious had Charlie not intervened.

It didn't escape her notice that he had asked if she was alright almost instantaneously after being stopped by Charlie. Their friendship had deepened over the past few months, and she suddenly realised that she had come to depend on him as much as she knew he also depended on her. Jean had found herself as not only Lucien's go-to when a case had got him muddled, but she was also one of his closest confidantes. (And Lucien was even better than her at keeping his sleeve close to his chest. He guarded it fiercely, as if his very life depended on it) She rather liked that. Possibly more than she cared to admit.

She had insisted she was fine the moment he wanted to check her wrist, but once they were safely inside he all but demanded (albeit in a most gentle tone), that there would be no argument.

He proceeded to clean and bandage the nasty looking graze. She couldn't help but wince at times as he did so despite his best efforts not to hurt her. "I'm sorry did I hurt you?" She almost blushed at his concern, so touched she was by it. But as usual she brushed it off with a shrug.

When the discussion had again turned to Jack, she broke down, unable to keep her tears in check. Finding out she was going to be a grandmother only added to her frayed emotions. Wretched things. Jean all but pleaded with Lucien to believe her, that her boy was innocent, her eyes begging him to fix this mess.

She blushed profusely when she remembered leaning into his palm when he placed his hand onto her left cheek, said cheeks turning a deep red. His touch was both warm and soft. So soft. She wanted it to stay there forever, or at least for him to touch, caress her like that again… where did that come from? And hadn't he just done that?

Yes, he had. Jean thought, still standing by the relatively safe spot at the telephone, blushing for the second time in moments. It was a little more than just a tender caress this time. She turned even more scarlet as that thought came to her, absently staring at the phone. She really should go and tell Lucien that he was needed by one of his patients at their home (and not by the police for just this once), but could not get her feet to move. Couldn't get her mouth to work either for that matter.

She needed to get her act together. She could not stand there like some fool all day. Yet, her stubborn conscious refused to cooperate, her equally deceiving mind kept going back to what had happened in the sunroom seemingly seconds ago, leaving her stood still.

"Are you okay Jean?"

Mattie's voice startled her from her chaotic inner musings. She stared at her young friend, trying to get her brain to formulate something that wouldn't cause her clever Mattie to question her further.

She eventually nodded. "I'm fine Mattie."

Mattie looked at her suspiciously. "Are you sure? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

Jean nodded again. "Yes, I'm fine. Really." She paused for a moment, and sighed as she sat down on one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "It's just been a hell of a day."

Mattie nodded sympathetically. "It sure has." She agreed, feeling for her good friend. "Do you want a cup of tea?"

"Yes, that'll be lovely."

Mattie filled up the electric kettle and waited for it to boil, preparing a cup for them both in the meantime.

She then sat a cup in front of Jean, and sat down opposite her. Jean, for her part, was in no mood to talk. She wasn't ready. Not yet. She kept her eyes fixed on the cup, praying that Mattie would leave her alone.

She then realised she had something that would get Mattie to go, at least for a minute or two. "Mattie, could you go and tell Lucien that Agnes Clasby has requested a home visit?"

Mattie knew when she was being dismissed. "Sure, where is he?"

"In the sunroom – I think." Jean hadn't seen, nor heard him since she left him to answer the telephone minutes before.

Mattie stared at her, an odd, puzzled look forming on her pretty, young face. She hadn't seen Jean like this since… well since the whole Robert thing earlier this year. She then got up and headed off to look for Lucien.

Jean breathed a sigh of relief, and stood up, glancing at the direction Mattie had gone. She picked up her cup and wasted no time in heading to the safe sanctuary of her room.


Mattie found Lucien in the sunroom, just where Jean said he would be. He too, had the same confused, faraway expression on his face that she saw moments ago on Jean – the only difference being she had had clear evidence of tears – red, puffy eyes, tearstains still visible on her cheeks. Her heart again ached for her friend. His eyes showed a small glimpse of hurt too, or was that her imagination? What on earth had gone on here? They hadn't acted on their obvious feelings for one another, had they?

She cleared her throat, not wanting to startle the doctor like she had with Jean. "Lucien?"

He turned towards her, and she fleetingly saw what looked like disappointment cross his handsome features.

"You're wanted at Mrs Clasby's house." She informed him.

He stared at her as if she had grown an extra head.

She sighed, "Lucien?"

He shook himself out of his reverie. "Ah, yes… yes of course. Mrs Clasby, right." He answered finally, somewhat shakily, before beginning to regather himself. "Best not keep the dear lady waiting."

Mattie shook her head in amazement. "Something happened in this room between those two and I will get to the bottom of this."


Thanks for reading. Thoughts? :)