Author's note: This story takes place at the end of S3 E6, when Jean tells Blake she is thinking about moving. It has never set well with me the way Blake reacted (or didn't react) to the news. Even if he wasn't going to pour his heart out to her, he could have discussed it, or asked her if she was coming back, or shook her hand and wished her well - something other than ignoring the situation until the last possible minute! So this is an alternate version of what could have happened. I intend to write at least 2 chapters, maybe 3. The title is a song by the Counting Crows that talks about missed opportunities with the one you love, and was stuck in my head all through S4. It could be the theme for the entire series.

...

Jean's words hit him like a ton of bricks. She was moving to Adelaide. She said she hadn't decided but the loan application in front of him suggested otherwise. He signed it simply because she asked, and had no had time to absorb the news before Matthew Lawson showed up at their door.

Matthew and Lucien spent the rest of the morning in his study, recounting events in both Melbourne and Ballarat, and plotting a strategy for the challenges to come. They spent the afternoon at the police station getting caught up on official business. Lucien felt that his presence might blunt Munro's attempts at humiliating Matthew on the first day. He came home well past dinner time. He took a few bites of the now cold dinner Jean had left for him and went straight into his study.

He pulled a whiskey bottle out of his desk drawer along with a glass and poured a double. He stared at the desk, not even pretending to be working on anything in particular, and tried to understand what was happening. They had grown close over the past few months. He wasn't sure when it started. He had not expected it, but it was welcome. He recalled the day that a mob attacked the house looking for Jean's son. Brave to the point of foolishness, Jean had confronted them and got thrown to the ground. He nearly beat to death the man who pushed her. He would have come to the aid of any woman in that situation - any man who was worth something would. But it was the sight of them hurting Jean, his Jean, that pushed him to the point of madness. Later that day when he was comforting her, he forgot himself and almost kissed her. When Jean pulled away, Lucien feared that it would be the end of their friendship.

Instead they relied on each other even more. Jean seemed less reserved around him. Her face would brighten when he walked through the door each day. At least, that's what he imagined he was seeing. If he was gone too long on a case, she would pop by the police station to check up on him. Jean had a keen intellect and more common sense than he ever had, and Lucien had come to depend on her good judgement. For the first time in many years, Lucien felt he could trust someone. He confided in Jean about some of his past, including the guilt he felt over his daughter. He knew Jean would never use what he told her to hurt him.

Lucien poured himself another drink. It was late, and Lucien realized that Jean had not come by to say good night. He did not take this as a good sign. Jean always came in to wish him good night. It was his favorite time of the day, one quiet moment shared between just the two of them. He often found himself staring after her, willing her to turn around and invite him upstairs, to turn towards his room, to fall into his arms - any of the things he didn't have the courage to do. He wondered if that was the reason she was leaving, because he hadn't given her a reason to stay. The thought now occurred to him that maybe she had been unhappy the whole time. Maybe she was making do as best she could in a difficult situation with a difficult person. Lucien uncorked the bottle of whiskey and topped off his glass.

A few weeks ago, Jean had a minor part in a play at the Colonist's Club. It was her birthday. Jean was so excited to be working with a famous actress that she didn't care that all she did was stand in the background. Lucien had planned to bring her flowers after the show. No one would question the occasion, and he hoped it might be the start of something. The start of what, he didn't know. He wanted Jean to see that he cared. But when Jean invited her son to the show he thought better of it. He didn't want to have to make an awkward excuse, or worse, to have Jean make one. Later that night, trapped for hours in the club working a case, William Munro mocked him. He said his housekeeper had defended him during an interview and lectured Munro about listening to him. Munro called her a stupid women. It took all of Lucien's self control not to make Munro the second man he almost beat to death for hurting Jean. But he came away from that evening feeling hopeful. Maybe Jean cared for him too.

And now she was leaving. Lucien finished his drink in one gulp, slammed his glass onto the desk, and stood up. He left the study and slowly climbed the stairs to Jean's room. Despite the late hour, the light was still on. Part of him hoped she'd be asleep and he'd have an excuse to turn back. He knocked quietly. Jean answered the door. She was wearing light pink pajamas and her dark curls were falling lose around her neck. Lucien suppressed a smile. No matter how smart she dressed, Lucien liked her this way the best. She was a proud woman who was always careful about her appearance. Standing in her bedroom with pink wallpaper, light pajamas, and a pink dressing gown she looked delicate and vulnerable, and Lucien was the only man who got to see her this way. He was well aware that this was mere circumstance and that Jean would rather he not, but Lucien cherished it as if it were just for him. He imagined what it would feel like to run his hands through those curls.

"Yes?"

He forced his attention back to the room. Jean was still standing there, looking annoyed now. He wondered if she knew he had been drinking.

"May I sit down?"

"Of course."

Lucien took a seat on the chair next to the dressing table. "So you're moving to Adelaide."

"Well, I'm thinking about it. Ruby needs help with the baby."

Lucien paused. He was making it up as he went along. "Here's an idea. Why don't you let me loan you the money? We can work out a payment plan when you get back."

Jean looked at him sympathetically. "I don't know if I am coming back, Lucien."

Lucien took a deep breath. He had to know. "Jean have you been unhappy here? Have I done something wrong?"

"No! I..." Jean stared at the floor. "I...we...it's been wonderful. But my son needs me. And I've been thinking a lot lately. I've lived here a long time. I never intended to stay after your father died. Maybe it's time for a fresh start, a chance to live my own life."

Lucien stood up and took a step towards her. He took hold of Jean's hand and clasped it between both of his. "The truth is Jean, I've very much come to think of it as our life." He took another step closer and lowered his voice. "Jean, I hope you know I care for you a great deal."

It was now or never. He took a deep breath, looked into her eyes, and froze. Jean's face was stricken with fear. Suddenly Lucien realized that he had put her in a terribly unfair position. He had come upstairs half drunk in the middle of the night, cornered her in her bedroom, and made an advance towards her while she was barely dressed. He could feel the heat rising underneath his collar. He couldn't have felt more foolish. He dropped her hand and quickly took a step back. He tried to sound lighthearted and casual.

"Why don't you consider staying in Adelaide for a few months, as long as you need. Help take care of that little one! And when the baby is older you can come back. Just think about it."

Jean nodded and walked towards the door, clearly waiting to close it behind him. "I will," she said gently. "I promise."

The next day Lucien apologized at the first possible opportunity. He felt that it was the only honorable thing to do, and hoped he could salvage the situation. To his relief, she was not angry. She said she really would consider what he said. Two weeks later they were standing at the bus stop. He knew he had not fought hard enough to keep her. But as the days wore on he realized the only thing that felt worse than losing her was being the person who came between her and her family. Lucien understood more than anyone the pain of not being able to be there for your children. He put on a game face and tried to act as if she were just headed on an outing. He tried to read Jean's mood but it was impossible. She was so calm and pleasant that he wondered if she had any regard for him at all. He hugged her and made her promise she'd write. When the bus drove off, he stared after it, watching a piece of himself drive off to Adelaide.