Apparently snow has already fallen in Scotland and the higher parts of Cumbria, but how about snow in Ballarat?! Set after S4, Jean and Lucien are married.
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Jean threw a scarf at Lucien and a pair of gloves. She, herself, was dressed for clearing the snow outside on the drive, and she was determined he should join her.
The only time Lucien had been out in the snow was to throw snowballs at his fellow students when he was in Edinburgh, it was unusual to have enough snow, or indeed any at all in Ballarat, to clear away, but there was and he would help his beloved Jean.
'Can't we build a snowman?' he asked, innocently.
'Lucien, grow up!' Jean sighed, 'We're not children.' But she smiled at his childlike wish.
She started to sweep the snow to the edge of the drive and Lucien piled it up until he had enough for a snowman's body. Jean rolled her eyes, but at least it was out of the way of any cars that would come. Lucien took another broom and helped sweep using the snow on his side of the drive to finish the snowman. Jean stopped and leant on her broom as she watched him, shaking her head. She smiled secretly and bent to gather a handful of snow which she formed into a ball. She couldn't resist it; she launched the missile at him and it caught his head, knocking his hat clean off! Quickly she returned to her task as if nothing at all had happened.
'Oh, so that's your little game, is it?' and he threw one at her, hitting her on the shoulder.
'Your nose is red!' He cheekily informed her.
'So's yours!' She gathered up more snow in her hands and threw it at him. He ducked and it went over his head into the shrubs.
A full blown snowball fight was now underway; both scoring direct hits as well as sending the snow soaring into the road and the hedges. They shrieked and giggled like children gradually getting wetter and wetter, until they were both soaked through and freezing.
They both laughed at each other,
'Honestly, Lucien,' she grinned, 'look at the pair of us, acting like school children!'
'Come on, we've cleared enough,' he held out his hand to her,' your hands are cold and wet and you're shivering. Let's go in for some hot chocolate.'
Taking his proffered hand she gladly agreed and they propped the brooms up against the wall.
Taking off her boots on the porch she stepped into the warmth of the house followed by Lucien stamping his feet to rid them of any clinging snow. They hung up their coats and Lucien headed into the kitchen to start making hot chocolate.
'I think I'll have a quick bath, I've got to get out of these wet clothes anyway, and so have you,' she kissed him quickly and ran upstairs.
'When you're done I'll have a shower,' Lucien called after her.
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Jean went into the studio where she had lit the fire earlier and curled her feet under her as she sat on the couch. He noted she was wearing a warm bathrobe and thought he would do the same after his shower. He wasn't gone long before he appeared, showered, in his warmer robe, one that he rarely wore, bearing two mugs of steaming, hot chocolate.
'Mmm,' Jean murmured in appreciation, noting he had added a drop of whisky to it; it was warming her inside as she wrapped her hands round the mug to warm them. She put the empty vessel onto the floor and curled up next to her favourite doctor. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and took her, still cold, hands in the other. He blew warm air tenderly over them as she leant over to kiss his cheek.
He pulled her close and placed her hands inside his robe against his warm skin. She cuddled close, her head against his chest, listening to his strong, steady heartbeat and smiled in contentment.
These moments, when they were alone, Charlie either at work or, in this case giving evidence in Melbourne; were rare. Moments when they were free to be just two people, deeply in love and still learning about each other.
Lucien buried his nose in her hair, it smelled of cold air, fresh and clean. He slipped his hand down and undid the tie round his robe and pulled Jean inside it, wrapping her in the excess fabric.
She sighed and wriggled enticingly against him; looking up into his eyes she smiled sweetly and seductively. The light was going, only the fire gave any illumination, she nodded in the direction of the rug in front of the hearth. Without separating they somehow managed to move to the rug and Lucien undid the tie round Jean's robe. Now there was nothing between them and they gave in to their desires, slowly and tenderly with a deep consideration for each other's wants and needs.
They lay together, Jean's head on his chest, her arm flung over him, her eyes closed in sleep. Lucien enclosed her in his rope and held her gently, smiling softly, wondering what he had done to deserve this loving and giving woman, his Jean. He too, dozed, until he realised that Charlie was due back from Melbourne that evening and maybe it wouldn't be good to be found naked in front of the studio fire, Jean would be horribly embarrassed.
He gently stroked her shoulder,
'Jean,' he whispered, 'Jean.'
'Mmm?' she murmured.
'Charlie's due back soon,' he checked his watch, 'maybe we should move.'
'Must we?' sleepily from the depths of his robe.
'Well, I don't mind staying here all night, but...' he continued stroking her shoulder.
Sudden realisation dawned and Jean sat up with a jerk. They really should stop behaving like teenagers, they were mature adults, but she knew they would still have moments when they were alone, moments when they could be just the two of them in their own world.
She leant down and kissed him before getting to her feet, closing her robe and went to make herself 'decent'.
When Charlie came home later, dinner was ready, Jean and Lucien were properly dressed and everything was as it should be.
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After 'Time to go' I thought you might need cheering up, hope this does it. x