"Gin!" Jean places her cards down on the table amongst the remnants of their dinner.
"Bugger. Jean, I just can't seem to beat you."
"Hmm, nor will you." She gives him a wink, grabbing the last piece of cheese out of Lucien's hand as she makes her way to the sofa.
The weather had turned cool and stormy in the early morning hours. They spend a lazy day in their hotel room rather than waste the trip to Versaille in the rain. Jean wants to be able to enjoy the famous gardens at leisure. Lucien agrees having never been there himself that it be best to wait until the weather breaks. Late in the afternoon they venture out to get some food and wine to bring back to the room.
It is days like this that Lucien enjoys the most. It is as if only the two of them exist. As much as he loves showing Jean everything she ever dreamed of and more, these hours when it is just the two of them alone without distraction he holds dearest. They spend hours talking of their pasts, dreams, hopes and fears. They are allowed to laugh, cry, be themselves without the trappings of society; feel like young lovers despite the lines of the passing years on their faces.
Lucien watches Jean as she curls up on one end, tucking her bare feet under her. Jean is wearing one of his shirts, having been caught in the rain on their way back to the hotel she had stripped off her wet clothes, grabbing his discarded shirt from the previous night. She never looked more beautiful to him, natural curls hanging freely, minimal makeup, eyes shining brightly.
He gets up to join her, "you do look beautiful tonight."
"Why thank you. I'm wearing the finest men's shirt that Ballarat has to offer. You know only the best for my husband." She is trying to continue the playful mood of the past few hours.
"Twenty-two." Lucien says he nestles himself next to her.
On the long flight from Melbourne to Greece, Lucien came up with this game. They would give one another an age and they would have to tell something about themselves at that specific time in their lives. There is so much that they don't know of one another's past despite having intimate knowledge of each other's daily lives. They knew each other's favorite meals, colors, music, time of day just from the sheer proximity of sharing a house for so long but each had full lives before ever meeting at the house on Mycroft.
Jean lets out a long sigh. "Lucien, do you really want to do this now?"
"We agreed. You can tell as little or as much as you want. It's your turn for a story"
"Alright, twenty-two." He loves watching her face when she thinks of what she will tell. It is as if she is flipping through a book to find the correct page. "Well, I was pregnant with Jack." She unwinds her feet from under her and reaches for a glass of wine.
"That's it! I know you were pregnant with Jack."
"Oh, you made the rules! As little or as much as I want. But no that isn't all." she puts the wine glass back down after emptying it. "As I was saying. I was about eight months pregnant with Jack, so Christopher Junior was just over two. There was a terrible storm, one of those winter storms where a degree colder the rain would be snow. Christopher had gone into town for something, what I can't even remember now. The weather kept getting worse, the hour later and no Christopher. The power went out so I bundled Christopher up and snuggled by the fire with him. I remember feeling the baby moving around inside of me and Chris's little arms wrapped around my neck and thinking what am I going to do if something happened to Christopher. How was I going to take care of my babies without their father. I did a lot of praying."
Lucien takes her hand, seeing the tears roll down her cheek. "But he came home."
"Yes, he did, that time. It was nearly dawn when he was able to make it home. So much went through my mind that night that when he left for the war I just did what I needed to do for my boys and I. Oh, and the next day I made him go and get us phone!"
Lucien pulls her into his embrace, kissing the top of her head as she rests on his chest. "I think you are the bravest woman I know."
This makes her chuckle. "I wasn't brave that night. I was scared to death! I hate that feeling, the helplessness. Anyway, what about you at twenty-two?"
"Ahhh, that was a fairly boring year. I was in medical school so my nose was deep in text books and when it wasn't I was banging on the drums."
"Nothing to tell? No deep dark secret?"
"Well, I did get an A on a paper that I didn't write."
"What? How is that even possible?"
"I told the professor that I wrote it and he swore he read it but must have lost it so he gave me an A." Lucien starts to laugh. "I don't suggest try doing it more than once though."
"You didn't Lucien."
"I did. Ended up working on it all night because the professor expected a new copy of it the next day. Not one of my finest hours." They both are laughing uncontrollably this time tears at Lucien's youthful folly.
They lay curled up together enjoying the sound of the rain beating down to the same rhythm as their heartbeats. Jean rubs her fingers through his beard, pulling herself into a deep kiss before pulling back to look deep into his soul. She takes a long sigh, "Lucien, the man at the opera? Should I be worried?"
"No, no one to concern yourself with. He is a cafe owner. The cafe was used as a meeting point with my handler. As far as he knows Thomas Etienne was just a regular customer that never came back."
"Then why didn't you acknowledge him?"
"Honestly Jean. I just panicked that my old life is still so present." He squeezes her closer, "that I could bring you into that life. In Ballarat it all seems so long ago." He trails off thinking of the dangers that never concerned him before Jean. His life didn't matter the same way before Jean. Now he has everything to live for. She is his everything, if his old life brought her harm. He can't even think what he would do.
She can feel him tremble with fear and worry. "Lucien, it's alright. I knew from the moment I chose you. The moment you jumped on that bus heading to Adelaide that my life would never be boring again. You are worth all the excitement, intrigue and risk."
Jean begins kissing him once again bringing Lucien back to the present. She burrows deeper into his side resting her head into his neck breathing in his scent. He begins strumming a tune along her spine as if it is piano keys; humming the tune that is in his head. She recognizes it at once. A song that they dance to in their home. Jean begins singing the words. There's somebody I'm longin' to see. I hope that he, turns out to be someone to watch over me.
Jean stands pulling Lucien up on his feet. "Dance with me Lucien." He embraces her in their dance as only lovers do. They dance together to the beat of the rain and the music they make; singing in harmony a song that brings them home. They continue to stand holding one another long after they stop swaying.
Lucien finally speaks. "Tomorrow Notre Dame?" Jean gives a bit of a shrug. "Jean, you will be sorry if you don't see it."
"We have seen it."
"From afar in the city is not the same."
Since leaving Sacred Heart, having her church turn her out so easily it has been difficult for her to enter the many cathedrals that they pass on their trek across Europe. Their visit to the Vatican City left her feeling solemn that her happiness with Lucien puts her in line for an afterlife in Hell. She spent her life never questioning the teachings of Father Morton's sermons. They were the words of God, the gospel. That was all before Lucien, before this man who questions everything especially the church.
"Of course, Lucien. Tomorrow will be fine."
Lucien understands all too well her inner turmoil but doesn't want her to miss out on the beautiful ancient architecture. "We won't go for a mass if that makes you feel better."
Jean nods with her forehead on his bare chest. She knows he is doing this for her. She doesn't want to be mad at the church and she doesn't want to renounce God but her faith, the tangible faith here on Earth is in Lucien. She leaves a long kiss on his chest, as if trying to tattoo it on his heart before looking up into his blue eyes. She once again rubs a hand along his beard, softly singing. Won't you tell him please to put on some speed. Follow my lead, oh how I need someone to watch over me.
He tenderly brushes the stray tear from her cheek. "Lucien, let this be our church. The two of us, wherever we are together be our sacred place."
"My Jean, I will always worship you. You are all I need to know there is goodness and beauty in this world." He resumes the hum of the song as they sway, the room alight with the flashes of lightning as the storm rages on around the lovers.
