"We should head back to the car." Lucien speaks into her ear, nose buried in soft curls, breathing in her scent. They stand at the edge of the Seine at the base of Notre Dame watching the last trace of the sun setting.

She pulls his arms tighter around her waist, making them one entity before exhaling as if expelling the last bits of demons and sin, cleansing both their souls. On the next breath she turns with a smile for her husband. "Ready." And she is ready, ready for whatever life puts before her.

Lucien maneuvers the streets of Paris with such familiarity and ease that Jean is once again reminded of the life he had before her. She finds her cheeks hurting from smiling at her darling husband. His exuberance in showing her off to his old friend and the narrative that he tells as they weave through side streets excites and warms her. This is the side of Paris that she never knew she wanted to see. This is Lucien's Paris.

"Over there on the left is Moulin Rouge. George's place does well from the overflow and after the Moulin's shows are done." Jean seeing the lights and windmill turning down the street. He continues further down before turning down a smaller street.

"How thrilling. Why aren't we seeing something there?"

Lucien finds himself stammering thinking of how not to offend his Jean because in all honesty when he planned the itinerary it never occurred to him that she would like such a show. Often the shows can be more daring and risque than a typical night out at the theater. Of course he realizes how very wrong he was in his thinking. "Need to save something for next time."

"Mmmm, is that so." She gives his knee a playful squeeze where her hand has been resting on the drive. "So tell me about this George. You played in a band together?"

"George McLeod was a school mate of mine in Scotland. He was studying the classics or something. We met at a pub. He started playing the piano and the rest is history as they say."

"Why do I get the impression there is much more to the story?"

With a laugh, Lucien responds, "because you know me too well. George and I would come to Paris to play with a few other band mates. Our favorite place for a gig was Allumeur de Réverbéres, The Lamplighter. On one visit back in '34 George decided to stay. He had fallen in love with Fleur, the owners daughter."

"How romantic. Do you always visit George when in Paris? Get the old band together?" Jean notices Lucien's sparkling smile dim with her teasing.

"I'm afraid George lost his arm in the war." Jean and Lucien sit in the now parked car in silence. Lucien turns to face his wife, the glow of the street lamp their only light. "Jean, I'm going to tell you something that must never be repeated to anyone."

Seeing the struggle on Lucien's face, she knows this is one of those secrets that she really shouldn't know. "Lucien, it's alright if you don't want or can't tell me. I understand."

"I want you to know this. I wish I could tell you everything but…" She notices the strain on his face.

"Lucien, you know you can tell me anything. Who am I going to tell anyway? You are the only one I tell my secrets to." She leans in, kissing him, calming his nerves.

Breathing deeply Lucien continues, "George was badly injured in the war but he continued to serve the Allies. After the war he, well he worked with me as a contact in Paris. You could say he was a bit more than a contact really. Noone suspects a one armed, former pianist, family man of espionage."

"Lucien, and…" Jean says wearily.

"And he is still very much involved. Of course I'm not privy to the information any longer but with everything going on with the French in Indochina, George is still active. That is why under no circumstance can you say anything. It would put him and his family at risk."

"Why on earth are you telling me this then Lucien?" The look on Lucien's face tells her there is more. "Oh, Lucien. Are you still involved?

"No, no. I promise you I'm not. It's just I'm going to need to speak with George privately." Lucien is getting the full on Jean eyes. He has to look away for fear of telling too much. "I need to let George know that I was recognized the other night at the opera and that you were seen with me."

"He wasn't just a cafe owner, was he?" she asks warily.

"No. Yes. Oh, it's complicated."

Jean lets out a sigh, "I expect nothing less from you Dr. Blake. You did warn me life with you would be messy." She gives him another kiss, reassuring him that all is well. "Shall we go meet your James Bond friend?"

Lucien takes her hand as she is about to open the car door. "I do love you my darling. I'll never let anything happen to you, ever. You know that don't you."

"Yes, yes I do."

The Allumeur de Réverbéres is just as she pictured it from Lucien's description; dark,warm, the air filled with smoke from the candles and cigarettes, music filling the room. Jean can't help think how alluring and for a lack of a better word, sexy the club seems to her. Leave it to Lucien to make her feel as if she is stepping into her own movie. A back street Parisian nightclub with her handsome doctor spy husband, she can feel the flush rise in her cheeks as her pulse quicken with excitement. My life certainly will never be neat and boring with Lucien.

Above the music a loud Blake makes its way to them. Immediately Jean sees a large burly man that can only be George McLoed making his way to them. "Bloody hell, Blake. It's been far too long since I've heard from you. Thought maybe you were dead."

Jean is taken back by the abrasive directness of George's demeanor. The club is as she envisioned but Lucien's comrad is certainly not the romantic piano player that came with the scenario.

"George, this is my wife Jean."

Jean extends her right hand, immediately catching her error as Gearge grasps it with his left. An awkward shake takes place but Jean is duly aware of the strength in the one hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Jean. You must be a remarkable woman to put up with this bloke." He gives Jean's hand an extra squeeze and looks deep into her eyes when he speaks. "Not many I know would have the patience for his antics."

Normally if a man held her hand a bit too long and stared into her eyes, Jean would become uncomfortable but George's actions seems to be conveying an unspoken ease to her. Every physical trait, the volume of his voice, knowing his vocation should be frightening and yet as Jean stares back at this man there is an understanding between the two; a camaraderie in their affections for Lucien.

Lucien's arm loops around Jean's waist in an unconscious move of possessiveness causing George to release her hand. "She is more than remarkable. One of a kind. Now is Fleur here?"

While the band is on a break, Lucien pulls George aside, leaving the wives at the table bonding over after dinner drinks. Through the years Fleur's english has become fluent and the two women are deep in conversation. It never occurred to him that his Jean may miss conversing with other women but she is clearly enjoying discussing recipes, and children with Fleur. He is grateful for the interaction as he makes his way to the far end of the bar with his old friend.

"What's on your mind Blake?"

"Gabriel Aries ran into Thomas Etienne at the opera house a few nights ago."

"So, your back in town visiting." George not seeing the significance of the encounter yet.

"Jean was on my arm and I bloody panicked and said he was mistaken and gave my real name. George my real God damn name." Across the room Jean can see Lucien rubbing his face, visible upset. Her instinct is to go to him, calm him, reassure him but she knows she can't. She needs to continue her part as the dutiful wife.

George takes a large swig from his glass and motions for a refill. "Damn, your out of practice mate." Downing the last bit of whiskey before handing the empty tumbler to the bartender. "I'll do some checking but I'm sure it will come to nothing. Gabriel never became more than a middle man and I doubt he would know who to go to with this."

"Right. It's just Jean. Nothing can happen to her. She can not be put in danger."

"I'll make sure of it. So she is that special? I mean after what happened with Mei Lin and all."

"George, she bloody well saved my life. She is everything to me. I never knew I could want, need someone as much as I do her." Lucien looks over towards Jean and finds her watching him. They lock eyes as she gives him a small knowing smile.

"How much does she know, Lucien?"

"Just enough so that I don't have to lie to her." He makes his way back to his Jean never breaking the hold that their eyes have on one another.

The band is back on the stage and begins to play a slow bluesy tune that fills the room. He takes Jean hand, pulling her to her feet. "Dance with me." He leads her to the small dance floor, holding her tight.

"Everything all right?"

"Right as rain, my darling. Right as rain."

She knows that he isn't, that he can't tell her the truth that is upsetting him. "Yes, it is." She kisses him deeply as they sway to the melodic sounds, before resting her head on his shoulder.

Exhaustion taking over from the enormity of the day. Today Jean found peace facing the church with her love. Tonight she will help him find peace with the past that continues to haunt him. As they move on the dance floor, she sees George watching them. Her hands grasp Lucien's shirt a bit tighter, frightened for her love, knowing just as that day in the cemetery that she will give her life for him if necessary.

George's well trained eye notices the change in Jean's grasp as she watches him in return. From the way Jean looks at him he is acutely aware that she knows more than Lucien led him to believe. Yes, Blake found himself good one, probably too good for the likes of him. He gives Jean a reassuring nod before turning to his own wife. Who lives a simple, happy life in her naivety of her husband's true profession.

Lucien feels the sting of Jean's nails in his back from the hold she has on him. Tears spring to his eye in the knowledge that his clever Jean knows things without him needing to put voice to them. She would have made a much better spy than I ever was.

Song after song they continue to sway in a manner that if in Ballarat would be scandalous until Lucien hears Jean whisper that it's time to go. They are the only ones on the dance floor. When did the crowd leave? Lucien thinks. They make their way to the McLeod's at the bar to say their goodbyes.

"Blake, I don't suppose I'll see you again?"

"No, I don't think so. My life is with Jean in our small town, far from here."

As they make their way to the car, Lucien pulls her into the crook of his arm to kiss her temple. "Thank you."

"For what Lucien?"

"Putting up with me. Marrying me. Being you." He turns to give her a deep kiss but pauses to look in her expressive eyes, the eyes that tell him so much. " Thank you for loving me."