~PG, Prompt drabbles. professortennant asked: Jean/Lucien + new married life routines

Housekeeping:

Aside from habit, there are practicalities to consider. No, she's not technically employed as his housekeeper anymore, but the floors still need mopping and the cabinets still need dusting, and the cooking still needs to be done every night.
She doesn't like the idea of paying someone else to keep her own house, but equally she cannot live in a pigsty.
The sound of the vacuum going when she gets home from the shops is new.
It turns out her dear husband has a better solution. And he never once grumbles that he's too over-educated for a spot of cleaning.

Gardening:

Watching her tend the plants is as soothing as sipping a cup of tea on a cool night. She's methodical, meticulous, and efficient. Every bulb is given its due, every root cluster tenderly broken into its new pot. Gardening is her own science, and he finds it fascinating and somewhat erotic to watch.
But mostly he just loves the sound of her voice as she tries and fails to explain the intricate needs of each plant as it pertains to the Ballarat climate.
She eyes her begonias, her gaze shining with pride; she's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

Accounts:

When he gave her reign of the household expenses years back, it showed a level of trust in her she took personally. Never mind that he didn't have a head for accounts; that it would have led to his eventual ruin if she didn't take over his books.
Now that they're married, she makes him sit down with her, just the once, to arrange the incoming and outgoing expenses.
"I trust you" he says, trying to wave it away.
"It's not about trust, Lucien. It's about transparency"
Which is how they end up fighting, and then snogging, over her wages.

Experiments:

She likes that he likes to include her. Yes, the work is usually fascinating, reminding her of high school chemistry and biology. But often she's caught watching him, and the way his face gets brighter when a solvent reacts strangely to a crime scene sample, or a blood type doesn't match.
He's like a child, sometimes, with his openly curious face and obvious delight.
She loves him so much.
"Sorry, I don't think I quite got that, can you explain it to me again?" she asks, with a serious face.
And so he does. And she watches him light up.

Bedtime:

They lived side by side for so long that she knew certain discoveries were long passed; bed hair, favourite dinner dishes, even the way they cuddle on the couch watching television. Other kinds of affections are expected and wonderful, and in a league of their own.
But then came the unexpected encounters; things she never considered.
That he always prefers the left side of the bed, closer to the window.
That he does snore, but only on his back.
That sometimes his nightmares aren't nightmares at all, a soft Jeannie passing through his lips as he smiles in his sleep.

Intimacy:

She is not superstitious per se, but he learns quickly that certain things do not go by her unnoticed or unsaid.
They never go to bed silent anymore; even if she is so cross with him her ears steam, she always says goodnight before sleeping.
She always kisses him good morning, the first to rise for the day.
She reminds him to brush his teeth, and then smooches him with minty breath.
And she runs her left hand through his hair when his head is pillowed on her naked stomach, and smiles at him, and tells him she loves him.