The Beard

This was inspired by my husband and his seeming inability to rinse his own beard trimmings down the drain, and the mysterious growth and retrimming of Lucien's beard on the show.

Jean Beazley did not fall in love with Lucien Blake for his looks. She had noticed them of course, but in the beginning his brusque manner and odd way of behaving were what she noticed most.

Gradually, though, she fell in love with his kindness, his sense of duty, his gentle touch on her arm, and the way he made her feel protected and safe. Eventually, the day came when the sight of him took her breathe away.

So, when his beard, which he had always kept neatly trimmed began to grow a bit longer, she was at first puzzled. He was always so meticulous in his grooming habits; she should know, she had cleaned his beard trimmings from the sink, faucet, and surrounding counter in the bathroom often enough.

Eventually, she grew slightly annoyed at the sight of his beard, particularly as they grew closer. Was this a new oddity of his personality making itself known? And if so, what did that mean for the future? Would any other odd quirks come out that were destined to annoy her?

As the days and then weeks went past, however, she put those thoughts aside and concentrated on the house and their relationship. She kept glancing at his beard, however, and her subconscious mind was certainly still pondering the question of why he'd let it grow.

The day came, though, when a patient failed to show for a follow up visit. She'd noticed this once or twice before; a patient that had been coming regularly suddenly stopped. Eventually, they always seemed to return again for a new issue, so she was confident that it wasn't something Lucien had done to offend them. Still, it puzzled her and she mused about it out loud to Lucien as she brought him a cup of tea before the next appointment.

"It's the absence of pain," he explained absently as he reached for his cup. "People are only aware of pain when it's bothering them. Once the pain stops, they resume their lives and forget the pain ever existed. That's why someone making frequent appointments for a chronic problem will suddenly miss one when the pain diminishes; they simply forget there was ever a problem".

Jean stared at him open-mouthed, her cup of tea now forgotten in her hand. It all made sense now. "Your beard!" she gasped, continuing to stare at him. "I understand now."

"My what?" Lucien asked, his hand going to his face in his confusion. Jean laughed and swiftly leaned in to kiss him.

"Your beard. I just figured out why you've suddenly been letting it grow. It's because I complained about the trimmings you were leaving on the sink and counter. I just realized that I haven't had to clean them up in," she paused to consider, "Oh, at least as long as you've been growing it out! You must have stopped trimming it after I complained, and I simply didn't notice that I didn't have that particular thorn in my side anymore." She sat down in the chair across from his desk feeling immensely pleased with herself.

Lucien, however, merely looked sheepish. "Well, you did say it was causing a mess, so I thought I would simply stop trimming it as often. Can't say I've gotten used to the look, however," he said as he ran a hand over the bushy surface.

Jean laughed again, "Lucien. Did it not occur to you that you could simply rinse the trimmings down the drain when you're done? That you do not actually need to stop trimming your beard all together?"

The sheepish look on Lucien's face intensified, "Well, actually, now that you mention it," he took a deep breath, "No."

Jean rolled her eyes at him, "Honestly. It's a wonder you can make it through the day. Go ahead and trim your beard if you like, just rinse out the sink when you're done!" And with that she gathered the tea things and left the surgery, smiling and shaking her head at the obtuseness of men.

Lucien leaned back in his chair and smiled as well, wondering how he had ever lived without Jean Beazley in his life.