Author's Note: This story comes directly after Love in a Photograph (on my author page), mentions events in Ever-Loving Adelaide, and encompasses This House Is A Home, albeit from a slightly different perspective. I've come to the decision that this series of Adelaide stories are 'my' canon, and they serve as a jumping off point for my Blake Adventures series. These stories serve as a gap-filler between s3 and s4, and I've decided to ignore literally everything after 4.2 and create my own reality for Jean and Lucien. Anyway, I've written a lot of stories without realizing that, so I figured I'd dump it here. Without further ado, here's a story inspired by "Malibu" by Miley Cyrus because I am true shipper trash and it made me cry this morning thinking about it. Enjoy!

Next to You

Jean watched Lucien's bus drive away, feeling an ache in her very soul. Her mind was swirling with thoughts and emotions that she couldn't quite catch onto. In an effort to clear her head, she wandered away from the bus station toward the beach.

There, she gazed out on the white sand and sparkling blue ocean. It was still early, so the sun wasn't very high in the sky yet. She smiled, remembering the time she and Lucien had spent here, swimming in the ocean and kissing in the sunshine, lying side by side on towels. It still felt like some beautiful dream, being in Adelaide with him. How she'd be able to live here without him, she didn't know. Actually, how she'd be able to live at all without him just felt like a horrible punishment. They'd finally gotten to be together as just two people in love, and now it was all gone. He was going back to Ballarat, and she was stuck with her choice to move to Adelaide.

She sat down on a bench overlooking the beach and took some paper out of her purse; she always brought paper and a pen everywhere she went in case she needed to write something down. And Jean went to work writing a letter as quick as her hand could put words on the page. Everything she'd wanted to say but didn't know how all seemed to just pour out of her here. The power and control of writing the words exactly as she wanted them did her some good.

As soon as she was done, she went to the post office up the road to send the letter. Lucien would receive probably a day or two after he arrived home. That, along with the photograph she'd given him upon his departure, would hopefully keep her on his mind until she could find a way to get back to him.

Jean went back to the house to see Ruby and Amelia. Christopher may not have left for his shift yet, as it was still early.

And sure enough, he was just on his way out as she arrived. "Hello, Mum. Did you see the doc off at the station alright?"

She nodded, not sure of what else to say. Especially with this new aspect of her relationship with Lucien, Christopher was not the doctor's biggest fan.

With an unexpected sensitivity, Christopher put a kind hand on his mother's arm. "We can get into it when I come home for dinner. But I think we should talk about how long you're going to be staying here. Amelia sleeps, finally, and Ruby doesn't have that glazed look in her eyes anymore. And you have to get back to Ballarat."

Jean frowned. "Do I?"

Christopher smiled knowingly. "Of course. I don't think anyone expects you to stay here when your whole life and your love are back in Ballarat. I'd hoped you could build a life here, with us, but you belong there. With him."

And with that, Christopher went off to work, leaving Jean standing by the front porch, gobsmacked over what her son had just said.

It was a good thing that Christopher and Ruby had decided between themselves that Jean had already gotten them through the worst of it, and they'd be alright without her. Jean was pleased she could be of use to her family, helping when they really did need her, but she was eager to get back to Ballarat.

It hadn't even been a full day and she already missed him terribly. It was different when he'd gone to China for a month. She was still home, doing everything she'd always done. And when he'd gone to China, she hadn't spent the week before kissing him in every moment they had together. Now, it was much more difficult to be without him. A small part of Jean hated herself for becoming some insipid love-struck woman. But this wasn't just young puppy love. Nor was this something they'd exactly rushed into. No, Jean knew deep in her heart that, as soon as they could be together, she and Lucien would be together for the rest of their lives. She'd never imagined herself growing old with anyone, not even her Christopher; she had been more concerned with keeping food on the table for a husband and two young sons, and then just keeping herself going with her boys. The kind of future she envisioned with Lucien was so unlike anything she'd ever thought possible. And in the smallest of ways, deep in the back of her mind, Jean couldn't help but feel like she'd earned it.

Everything changed the next day. Mattie had called in a panic. "Jean, Matthew Lawson's been run down by a car! Lucien performed the surgery and saved his leg but…" The rest was drowned out by Mattie's sobs.

Jean had never heard the young girl so upset before. "I'll be on the next bus home. And we know Lucien is a wonderful doctor. I'm sure Matthew will be just fine," she told Mattie soothingly.

Ruby had helped Jean pack her things back in her suitcases. It hadn't even been two weeks she'd been there, so she hadn't unpacked much.

"I hope you know how grateful we are to you. I was an utter mess. My mother never taught me any of this, you see," Ruby confided. "No one did. I thought that when you get pregnant and give birth, something magical happens and you just know what to do. But that didn't happen to me. So I guess I just want to say thank you."

Jean awkwardly hugged her daughter-in-law. "These things don't come naturally for everyone. Nothing wrong with that. But you feel alright now? I don't really want to leave you unprepared. I'll be back in a few days after things are settled, after all."

Ruby just gave her a knowing smile. "We'd love to have you here for Christmas. With your doctor, if you'd like to bring him. But I don't expect we'll see you before that."

The next morning, all of Jean's things were packed in the back of Christopher's car so he could drive her to the bus station. Ruby and Amelia had come along for the ride so Jean could give them a proper goodbye; Ruby was probably right that Jean wouldn't be coming back to Adelaide for quite some time.

Two days went by in a whirlwind. Jean had left her bags with the porter at the bus station so she could take a cab right to Ballarat Hospital and check on Matthew. She spoke with the doctor in charge of the Chief Superintendent who in turn told her to speak with the surgeon, Dr. Blake.

Jean turned to where the doctor was pointing. And there he was. He had the most incredible look on his face. He was surprised to see her, but more than that, it was a look of awe. As though looking at her had allowed him to breathe again for the first time. Jean smiled, happy to see him and casting her silly thoughts aside.

They went to each other and suddenly realized that they were in public, surrounded by people who knew each and every aspect of their lives. So rather than a romantic reunion, they just held hands, speaking as few words as possible. After all, Matthew was more important now.

Lucien took Jean to pick up her luggage and drove her home for an excited greeting from Mattie. And then out the door they went again, off to investigate for the crime. Lucien had explained all the goings-on as they drove through town. Jean was pleased to be of any help.

It was strangely nice to lie beside him underneath a car. A far cry from towels on the beach, but the closeness was nice nonetheless. The subsequent near-death by getting crushed by a car, but for Jean's deft wielding of a screwdriver, was significantly less nice.

When they finally arrived home after a seemingly endless day, it felt very strange that Jean had woken up in Adelaide. And now she was finally home. The normalcy was quickly apparent, setting Lucien on the sofa to rest and going to the kitchen to make a pot of tea. The normalcy was slightly altered by the romantic kiss they'd shared on the sofa before she bustled off to the kitchen. But perhaps that would be a nice, new part of the normalcy.

Mrs. Toohey had moved some things around in the kitchen, making Jean irrationally cross. She'd only been gone for a few weeks! And her kitchen was in total disarray. She was so busy rearranging her pots and pans and re-alphabetizing the spice rack that she didn't notice Lucien hobbling around.

"I know this handwriting," he said, holding up an envelope on the pile of mail Mattie had brought in earlier.

"You should be resting," Jean scolded, before turning and seeing what he was holding. Her face blushed something fierce. "Oh. I forgot I sent that. Here, give it to me, you don't need it now that I'm here."

Lucien moved it out of her reach when she made a grab for it. "No, it's addressed to me, and now I'm very curious. You must have sent this…"

"Just after your bus left, yes. I'll admit that I didn't like saying goodbye."

"So you wrote me a letter?"

"I didn't know when I'd get to see you again," she explained quietly.

Lucien's expression was something between adoring and patronizing. It was infuriatingly endearing. "Jean, may I please read your letter?"

She tried not to smile, but it turned into one of her secretive half-smiles. "Well, since you did ask so nicely, you may. But please go lie down! You were almost crushed by a car an hour ago. You should be resting. I'll be in with the tea in a minute."

"Don't make me wait too long," he replied with a smirk, ripping open the envelope as he hobbled back to the parlor.

Jean honestly couldn't quite recall what all she'd written. She'd been so overwhelmed with emotion at the time. The kettle whistled and she poured water into the pot and let the tea steep for a minute as she regained her composure before bringing the tray to the parlor.

Lucien had opened the envelope to find three sheets of paper covered in a scrawling handwriting. Jean's writing was usually very precise and beautiful, like most things about her. She must not have had a surface to write on. And she must have been very overcome, if the shaky words were any indication.

Darling Lucien,

Having just watched your bus leave me here in Adelaide as you go home to Ballarat, I decided to come down to the beach for a little while. It feels strange to be at the beach. I'd have never come here by myself before. In fact, I'd only been to the shores of the lake in Ballarat. I've only been in Adelaide a week and already I think I take the ocean for granted. But that's only because you brought me here. You wanted us to swim in the ocean, something I'd have never done otherwise.

I think I'm starting to really understand how horribly afraid of everything I've always been. I've always done what's expected of me, kept going to stay afloat in whatever circumstances I've found myself. But you've never been one to do anything just because you're supposed to. That kind of bravery is something I've never experienced. Living with you, and now loving you, I think I'm not afraid of things I don't understand, for the first time. You live just as you like. It's something I'd always resented you for, until now. It's wonderfully freeing.

You've taught me so much, Lucien, in the past few months. And now, sitting here by the beach, I can't help but wish you were next to me again. When you were here, holding my hand, I felt like I could do anything. And now, I realize I'm lost again.

I thank you with all of my heart for the brand new start you've given me—given us. In looking at those photographs we took, I realize how much I like your smile. It was rare back home, but all this week, I've gotten so used to seeing it. And I realize now that I haven't smiled this much in such a long time. So long, in fact, that I take myself by surprise whenever I see my own reflection. You've made me so happy, Lucien, and I cannot wait until I see you again.

And so, until I come home to you, I hope you'll be careful. I won't be there to scold you when you do something dangerous. You mean so much to me, Lucien, and I can't lose you. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone. Wait until I'm next to you again.

All the love in my heart and forever yours,

Jean

Lucien looked up as Jean brought the tray of tea into the parlor. "Did you mean what you wrote here?" he asked, his voice cracking with emotion.

She furrowed her brow. "I don't really remember what I wrote. But I must have meant it. That whole morning is such a blur now."

He handed her the pages so she could look them over, watching her expression change as she read her own words.

Jean put her hand over her mouth, shocked at the outpour of sentiment she'd soaked into the pages. "I didn't know I could be so eloquent."

"Would you come sit here beside me? I can't quite get up at the moment. I was just crushed by a car, you see," he teased.

She chuckled and came to sit next to him on the sofa, letter still clutched in her hand. "Can I pour you some tea, Lucien?"

"In a minute," he mumbled. He shifted, groaning in pain. But it was worth it in order to put his arms around Jean and pull her in for a kiss. "I love you more than words," he told her reverently, his voice muffled as he pressed open-mouthed kisses up and down her neck.

Jean knew she should get him to stop. This was going to a dangerous place. After all, Mattie could come home at any moment. But Jean chocked it up to a near-death experience and the remnants of their carefree days in Adelaide, and she allowed herself to enjoy his love for just a little while longer. After all, that's why she was here. She'd longed to be next to him, in their home, just like this. Perhaps normalcy could wait until tomorrow.