Author's note: For crinklybrownleaves. This story is a bit of an AU and takes place towards the end of season 3, if Jean had never left for Adelaide and their relationship had continued unchanged.

The surgery was packed. Winter had brought an unusually high number of coughs, colds, and flus, and Lucien Blake had spent the morning with a constant stream of patients and he was still running behind. Jean must have whizzed by him two dozen times shepherding patients in and out. When the last one was finally gone, somehow lunch was waiting for him in the kitchen. He wondered how she managed it. After lunch he retired to his office and poured himself a drink, happy for some time to himself. It was to be short lived. After a few minutes Jean appeared in the doorway, her arms crossed.

"What are you still doing here?"

"Jean?"

"You were supposed to be at a meeting at the hospital ten minutes ago."

"Bloody hell."

Lucien got up, flustered. There was a whirl of activity at the front door as he straightened his tie, quickly put on the coat Jean offered while she dropped his fedora on top of his head. Lucien straightened up, suddenly finding himself ready to leave the house.

"Right."

He placed a hand on Jean's shoulder and bent down, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

"I should be home for dinner." And with that, he hurried out of the house.

He hurried out of the house for exactly two steps before coming to a halt on the front porch. He suddenly realized that he had just kissed his housekeeper. He turned back around only to hear the front door shut definitively behind him.

Quickly Lucien headed to the car to avoid any further embarrassment. His mind raced on the drive in to town. What was he thinking? How did it happen? Maybe Jean kissed him? No, that didn't seem likely, the fault was his. How did Jean react? He could not remember what her face looked like in that moment, he wasn't sure he had bothered to look. Why did he do it? He hadn't meant to. Jean had made it clear she didn't want a relationship, at least not now. Lucien had been doing his best to hide his feelings but they were only getting stronger. In the rush to get ready for the meeting, their movements so in tune with one another, it just seemed like the natural thing to do. But it was the wrong thing to do, and Blake would have to sort it out later this evening.

After the meeting Blake went to the club for a drink to think things over and considered lingering there until he missed dinner. In the end he decided that avoiding what happened wouldn't help. A show of normalcy might help prove to Jean that he didn't think the kiss was a big deal. He went home, grateful to find both Mattie and Charlie there, and they had a normal dinner full of chatter about what they each had done that day along with some debate about the latest local headlines. After Jean cleared the dishes, Mattie and Charlie both excused themselves, leaving Lucien alone in the kitchen with Jean. Jean paid him no notice, her full attention turned to the dishes in the sink. Lucien took a deep breath and stood up, leaning against the kitchen counter next to where she was standing.

"Jean."

Jean raises an eyebrow and cocked her head to indicate she was listening, but did not stop washing.

"Jean, I'm sorry about this morning. It was inappropriate of me. I don't know what I was thinking."

Jean smiled slightly. "Oh that. No worries. Just forget it ever happened."

Lucien frowned. She was letting him off the hook. He realized then and there how much he didn't want her to. He really had been hoping for some reaction, negative or positive, some evidence that their closeness affected her. But his main concern had been that he would have upset her, and that didn't seem to be the case.

"Right. Well, nonetheless, I apologize. I didn't mean anything by it."

A shadow passed over Jean's face. Lucien was sure of it, but she regained her composure before he could say anything more. Jean wheeled around from the sink and brightly asked him to bring the glasses still on the table over to the sink. Too brightly, Lucien thought, but even as he thought it he wondered if that was wishful thinking on his part. He retrieved the glasses and headed into his office.

In his office, Lucien brooded over a glass of whiskey. Nothing about this evening felt right. He didn't want to lie to her and tell her the kiss meant nothing. It meant everything to him. Jean meant everything to him. He wasn't convinced that it was of no importance to Jean, but he wondered how much he was reading into her own actions, interpreting them to his own advantage. The whole conversation seemed forced on both their parts. Unlike this afternoon. The afternoon was perfect. Everything was so natural between them, like any other happy, loving couple. Why couldn't it be like that for them every day? Nonetheless, what he did was wrong. Jean had made it clear twice now that she didn't want more than what they already had. He was not about to become one of those cads that chased their secretary around the desk in circles. If he couldn't have Jean in his life, at least he could keep her near it, and lying about how he felt was the price of peace.

The next few evenings, Jean seemed distant. Everything seemed to have returned to normal, but on quiet afternoons and after dinner he barely saw her. She always seemed to be in some other part of the house. He missed his companion. Finally on the third evening he went looking for her. He could not shake the fact that this was not mere coincidence, his behavior a few days ago had upset her. Lucien found Jean in the sun room. With the sun setting, it was too dark to do any work and it was chilly as well. He watched Jean, quiet and unnoticed for a few moments. Looking out into the yard, Jean suppressed a sniffle, pressing her hand against her mouth. He could barely make out a tear running down her face. Lucien's heart ached. He wanted to kiss that hand and then kiss the lips it touched. He wanted to feel that tear against his own cheek and hold her until she never hurt again. Lucien pushed those thoughts out of his mind, it was his carelessness that had unleashed this confusion on them on them first place.

Lucien cleared his throat to announce his presence. Jean turned, too surprised to hide that she had been crying.

"Jean. It's awfully dark to be planting isn't it?"

"Lucien! She forced a watery smile. I was just finishing up."

Jean turned toward the work bench and started pushing around some pots in an attempt to look busy that didn't even fool Lucien's inexperienced eye. She paused for a moment, involuntarily shuddering against the cool air.

"Jean you're cold! Allow me."

Lucien removed his coat jacket and draped it over Jean's shoulders, ignoring her protests. He resisted the temptation to linger there. He didn't want to make things worse for either of them. He needed to assure her he was not the least bit interested in her and she could work in his household in peace. But the sight of her pulling his jacket close around her, eyes still wet in the fading light, set his mind reeling. She was so beautiful and vulnerable and the wrong words came out.

"Jean I wasn't honest with you the other night. When I kissed you that afternoon, it was an accident, I swear it. But it didn't mean nothing to me. And I don't want to forget it ever happened."

He wanted to say that he wished he could kiss her goodbye every day, and hello every morning and then goodnight again, but he feared he was already taking things too far.

Instead he simply said, "Jean, I care for you. More than you'll ever know. And I promise it will never happen again. But I can't lie to you and say it didn't mean anything to me."

Jean turned away and Lucien's heart caught in his throat. He already regretted what he had said. He had made things much worse.

Jean said quietly, into the dusk, "Neither do I."

Lucien could barely hear what she said. He took a few steps closer. "I'm sorry?"

Jean turned around. "I don't want to forget it happened."

"Really?"

Jean nodded shyly. Lucien took another step forward, trying hard to suppress a smile. He tentatively fingered the lapel of his jacket. He felt rather silly; he was touching his own jacket and yet with Jean wearing it, running his hand over the collar suddenly felt daring. Jean looked apprehensive.

"Be my girl Jean. Or my woman."

Lucien stepped back and dropped his hands to his sides as Jean gave him a concerned look. He had not intended to make her a lewd proposition any more than he had intended to kiss her.

"I'm sorry, that came out badly. Let me care for you the way you deserve to be cared for. Please, Jean."

Jean pulled his jacket tighter around her and he couldn't help but think it looked much better on her than on him. She nodded, a faint smile on her lips.

"Alright."

Lucien could hardly believe what he was hearing. He wasn't even sure what he'd asked of her.

"You will then?"

"Yes."

"So then it, it would be alright if I kissed you on the cheek again?"

Jean sighed audibly and took a step forward. "Doctor Blake, if we're courting I will expect you to do better than that."

Lucien suddenly felt like his whole world had been put to rights. Grinning, he embraced her in the growing darkness.