Author's Note: M-rating for the end of this chapter

"You were right, Doc. All four of the lads who worked for Winston Hicks got roughed up by him one time or another. Jimmy Norton's got a black eye from Hicks. Probably the cause of those bruised knuckles, yeah?"

Lucien nodded at young Peter. "Most likely, yes. We'll want to interview everyone."

Peter nodded. "Norton's in with the boss now. Hobart is talking to another employee, Charles Thrope."

"And the other two?"

"Timothy Hicks and Henry Hicks. The younger son and a nephew. I'm going to pick them up now. They're at the warehouse."

"I'll go with you, Peter. I'd like to have a look around, I think."

Peter took Lucien with him in the police car out to the warehouse owned by the deceased Winston Hicks. Two young men were stacking crates. Both were extremely built for their work, tall with strong muscles. Lucien could immediately see that these were not men who would be unable to fight back if tossed around by their boss.

Lucien walked around, keeping out of the way. Peter introduced himself to Timothy and Henry and explained their purpose. "I'll need the two of you to come down to the station, please. We have a few questions about your boss, Winston Hicks."

One of the young men protested, "But we're the only ones here. We got work to do. We can't just close up. Boss wouldn't like it."

"Your boss is dead, which is why we want to have a talk with you," Lucien added bluntly. He watched very carefully for the reactions he provoked.

But to his surprise, another voice answered, "I'm their boss now. And I wouldn't like it if all my employees were gone and missed deadlines. But in the interest of assisting the police, we can close up for an hour or so. Provided you let Jimmy and Charles back as soon as your done with them. And you are almost done, aren't you?"

"I can't make any promises, sir. This is a murder investigation," Peter said politely yet firmly.

Lucien stepped forward. "And you are?"

"Johnny Hicks. And you're investigating the murder of my father," he said coolly.

The name threw Lucien for a moment. This man shared the same name as Lucien's own son, and there was a flash in his mind of the horrific possibility that his Johnny could share the same fate as Johnny Hicks one day, mourning his father.

Timothy and Henry finished up their task and got their things so they could accompany Peter to the station.

"I'll make my own way back, Peter," Lucien said. "Mr. Hicks, might I ask you a few things, since I'm here?"

Hicks just shrugged his shoulders. "You want a coffee? I've got some in the office."

Lucien followed the man and took a seat before accepting a cup of stale coffee. "Thank you," he said politely.

"I guess you want to know about my dad, eh?"

"I was hoping you could tell me about him. I didn't know him personally, but my wife remembered him."

"Your wife?"

"Jean. Apparently your father used to deliver to her from the butcher many years ago."

Hicks nodded. "He did all sorts of odd jobs here and there before my uncle let him run this place. Henry, my cousin, his father used to own it before he got too sick to manage it."

"And now you run it?"

"Yeah, I guess. Henry doesn't want anything to do with it. He's a big kid. Likes lifting heavy things but doesn't have much brains otherwise."

"How was your father as a boss?"

"He was a bully. To everyone," Hick answered roughly.

"He gave Jimmy Norton that black eye," Lucien recalled.

"Yes. We all got one from time to time."

"Even you? And Timothy and Henry?"

"Especially Timothy and Henry. The three of us were all raised properly, Doctor Blake. You respect your parents and your boss. You don't talk back and you certainly don't hit back. Jimmy got it a bit worse the last time because he didn't have the same values as the rest of us."

"He did hit back?"

"He tried to," Hicks said darkly. "But he's not very big, and Dad just laid him out with that punch to the eye."

Lucien was quiet for a moment, thinking. He took a sip of the terrible coffee and tried not to retch. "Mr. Hicks, do you know who killed your father?"

"Yes."

The calm admission was a bit of a shock. "Why haven't you told the police?"

"Because we're all better off now. My mother even thanked me. He never hit her, as far as I know, but he was a mean bastard and made her life hell for years. And now that he's gone, business will be better and we won't have to worry," Hicks explained, surprisingly calm.

Lucien tried to be as subtle as he could, looking for a means of leaving the room and getting to a phone before Hicks did something to silence him. He needed to stall. He needed to come up with a plan.

Hicks noticed Lucien's wandering eyes and leaned forward, pleading, "I can't go to jail. I have to protect my mother and my brother. We need this warehouse."

But Lucien shook his head. "You waited till your father was stumbling drunk out of a pub and strangled him. No matter what your reasons, that's not defensible."

"I don't care if it's not defensible! It's the truth! Everyone needed to be protected from him, and I'm the one who did it! I shouldn't be punished for that!" Hicks stood suddenly and slammed his fist on the desk in frustration.

Lucien stood up as well and held his hands in front of him, trying to keep Hicks calm. "There's nothing to be done, Johnny." His throat nearly closed up to use the name. But he tried to push through. "You know I've got a son named Johnny? A little boy. He's three months old."

Hicks looked at Lucien curiously. "You take care of him? You treat him right?" The man's voice was shaking. He knew it was all over. Lucien could see it all over his face, accepting his own fate.

"Yes," Lucien replied. "He nearly wasn't born. But he's alright now. He's healthy and safe. He's a happy baby. And his mother and I, we love him more than anything. I've never had a son before."

"You got other kids?"

"Two daughters. And I love them all. And I want to be a good father to them. I want to teach them to be strong, not by forcing them to survive under my roof or under my hand, but by supporting them and showing them they will always be safe with me. No child should fear their father. No man should ever have to do what you did to protect his family. But I will tell you, Johnny, I will do whatever it takes to protect my family and to make sure I can stay with them."

And Johnny Hicks broke. He collapsed back into his desk chair and began to weep. Lucien knew he was subdued now, didn't pose any threat. He went to the telephone and called the police station for backup to arrest Hicks. When he finished, he put a gentle hand on the man's shoulder. Hicks looked up at him. "Will they let me talk to my brother? Timothy will have to run the warehouse now. He'll have to take over. And he's not ready yet. I want to…I want to help him make sure it continues alright. So he can take care of Mum and everyone else."

"I'll make sure you get the chance to talk to him," Lucien replied softly. Hicks just nodded.

The police came to arrest him. Hicks went without fuss. Lucien relayed the message to ensure that there was opportunity for the family to discuss everything about the business. He left them all to it and then raced home. Now, more than ever, he needed to be with his own family.

To his surprise, he came inside to find Mattie playing a game with Valerie in the parlor. They were sitting on the floor. Mattie said hello and stayed where she was. Valerie hopped up and jumped into Lucien's arms, as she always did to greet him. He greeted Mattie and then buried his face in Valerie's dark curls, kissing her and breathing her in. Lucien held his daughter tight in his arms and whispered, "I love you, darling girl. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Daddy," she answered softly, hugging him around his neck.

Lucien regained control over himself and put her back down. "You girls play your game. Is Johnny in the nursery?"

Mattie told him he was, so Lucien hurried upstairs. Johnny Blake was lying in his crib, flailing his arms and legs like he always seemed to do. Lucien picked him up and held him. Johnny reached up to grab at his father's beard, those baby fingernails scratching Lucien's lips and chin. But he paid it no mind.

"I won't let that happen to you," he murmured to his son, not bothering to explain the full tale to the baby. "I won't ever put you in that position, to save everyone from me. I will protect you. All of you. I will love you always. You're my boy, Johnny. My perfect little boy."

There was a knock on the door behind him. He turned to see Mattie tentatively coming into the nursery. "Everything alright?"

"Yes," he answered with a sigh. "This case was a bit difficult. I'm fine."

Mattie nodded. "I'm going to take the children for the night. I was going to pack Johnny's bag and bring them to mine now, if that's okay."

"Jean asked you to take them overnight?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I think she needs a bit of a break."

Lucien nodded. He didn't entirely like the idea of being in the house without the children, but he would certainly defer to Jean. Lucien kissed Johnny's cheek and handed him to Mattie, who had just slung the bag with nappies and blankets and bottles over her shoulder. "You're off then?"

"We are. And I'll call if we need anything, but I'm sure we'll be fine. My baby brother is very popular among my friends, so I'll be we spend the whole evening entertaining guests. And you know how Valerie is with new people."

He chuckled, knowing all too well how charming his daughter could be, how she stole the heart of every person she met. "You all have fun." He followed Mattie back downstairs and kissed Valerie goodbye for the night.

"Jean's in bed," Mattie told him quietly before kissing his cheek and herding the children out to her car.

Lucien waved goodbye and closed the front door. He took a moment to brace himself. If Jean had asked Mattie to take the children to hers for the night, something must be very off indeed. It was one thing to ask for some help here at the house. But to ask for Johnny and Valerie to be out of the house altogether? That was a level that Lucien wasn't quite prepared for.

He made his way upstairs, trying to plan what he might say or do in order to help his wife. Hesitantly, he knocked on the bedroom door and opened it slowly. "Jean, darling?" he called out softly. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark, save for the lamp on the bedside table.

"Come in, Lucien. Has Mattie taken the children?" Jean asked him.

"Yes, she…" His words caught in his throat as soon as he walked into the room and saw the sight before him.

Jean was lying on top of their bed, propped up by the pillows, entirely naked. "How's your case going?" she asked conversationally.

His mind had turned to sludge. His mouth wouldn't move. All he could do was stare at her. Her long, lean legs. Her enticing hips. Her slightly rounded stomach. Her trim waist. Her full breasts. Her elegant, pale neck. And best of all, her beautiful smiling face. Jean was smiling. She was naked and she was smiling. "Jean," he croaked out.

"I take it you made the arrest?"

He nodded dumbly.

Her smile widened. "Good. Nothing to distract you. And no children to interrupt us or to require us to stay quiet. We have all night just to ourselves."

Lucien's whole being then went into overdrive. He kicked out of his shoes and tore off his jacket and practically dove onto the bed beside her. He pulled Jean into his arms and kissed her hungrily. She moaned into his mouth and clung to the back of his neck to hold him against her. The taste of her tongue was an exquisite drug that enflamed his whole body.

Jean reveled in her effect on her husband. She was old and tired and barely clinging to sanity most days, now. But Lucien still wanted her. This gorgeous man, so virile and attractive and strong and kind, somehow wanted her. She loved him more than she could ever possibly say, and being in his arms like this was like coming home. Like they'd been journeying through the desert and finally found their way to sanctuary within each other.

As Lucien's ardent kisses moved down her neck, Jean tangled her fingers in his hair. She didn't like the touch of Brylcreem, but the more she mussed his hair, the more his natural curls broke free. Both their children had inherited his thick, curly hair, and she loved it.

"Oh, I've missed you," she moaned, gasping as his teeth grazed over her throat.

Her words suddenly reminded him of the thing they'd just discussed only two days before. This was their first amorous moment in months. And Lucien was pawing at her as though she hadn't been ravaged by traumatic childbirth and life-saving surgery and crippling depression these last four months. He sprung off her. "Oh, Jean, I'm sorry," he said, panting.

But Jean would have none of that. "Don't you dare apologize to me, Lucien," she scolded. She rolled over and straddled his hips so she could undress him. As she loosened his tie and undid the buttons on his shirt, Jean could feel his growing hardness against her thigh. With a cheeky smile, she wiggled her hips on top of him and was rewarded with a throaty groan.

"Jean, please."

"You don't need to beg," she teased. His shirt was open and she pushed her hands under his vest to feel his hard muscles beneath her touch. She leaned in to kiss him again. But he kept his arms at his sides. She sat up again and frowned. "Lucien?"

"I don't want to hurt you," he confessed. "I…forgot myself for a moment."

"You're not going to hurt me," she insisted. "I may be exhausted half the time, but I'm not right now. And I'm not sad right now, either. I'm still disappointed I missed our anniversary, and I want to make up for it. I just want things to go back to normal, back to when you weren't afraid to touch me, back to when I was whole and you wanted me."

Lucien sat up and flipped them over so quickly, Jean let out a surprised yelp. He hovered over her and gave her a searing kiss. "I will always want you," he growled, kissing her again, hard. They were both breathing heavily and he made his way down her body. "You have never been less than whole," he insisted, switching to gentle, soft kisses down her chest and over her breasts. She was quite sensitive there, from breastfeeding the baby, so he did not linger in his attentions for too long. "And I am not afraid to touch you," Lucien whispered against her stomach. He traced the line of her surgery scar with his lips, sanctifying the healed skin over the cut he made and the stitches he had sewn. "I only want to bring you pleasure. I only want to love you."

Jean whimpered to feel his hot breath against the dark curls between her legs. Her body shivered as the wetness pooled there, begging for his touch. "Please, Lucien," she breathed.

His lips mouth was gentler than he had often been in the past. Slower and more deliberate. He was still being careful with her, but it had been quite a long time. And every single swipe of his tongue over her folds felt absolutely incredible. The gradual buildup was sweet and beautiful in every way. Though, she noticed, Lucien couldn't keep himself too controlled, the way his fingers gripped her thighs.

She was right on the edge when she stopped him, giving his hair a little pull. He lifted his head to look up at her in question. His mouth was shining from being coated in her wetness. "Please," she said. "Together."

Lucien nodded and climbed off the bed for just a moment, removing the rest of his clothes. Jean's legs were spread wide open to cradle his body as he crawled back on top of her. He lined himself up at her entrance, barely nudging himself shallowly inside her. But that wasn't what Jean wanted. She wanted him. All of him. Now.

Using more strength than she thought she could manage, Jean sat up and grabbed her husband's hip, pulling him inside her sharply. She gasped and fell back onto the bed when he was fully sheathed inside her. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and dug her heel into the small of his back as she canted her hips to adjust and pull him deeper. She could barely breathe, she felt so good. "Lucien," she whined.

He started to move inside her. Slowly, still. But deeper than she could ever recall him being. Lucien was starting to sweat from the effort. It had been far too long, and she felt so good, fluttering around his length. He couldn't hold back much longer. Lucien had his eyes shut tight, trying to keep in control. When he opened his eyes, he saw his Jean gazing up at him with her turquoise eyes dark with lust, shining bright with passion.

"I love you," she breathed. And within a few strokes, she came undone around him, moaning and gasping his name, her eyes still fixated on his.

He came while she was still clenching and pulsing around him, practically roaring her name with the force of his orgasm. Lucien let himself gently collapse on top of her. He didn't want to hurt her, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving the warm embrace of her body just yet.

Jean's fingers traced the lines of the scars on his back as she continued to keep her legs wrapped around his body. This feeling of heavy limbs and being pressed into the mattress by the weight of his body and the satisfying fullness of having him still and nestled inside her, this was what she had missed. This was the part of their marriage that had been absent these long months. Jean was under no illusion that one good shag would cure her of whatever had been ailing her since Johnny's birth, but this was the first time since the moment she felt those too-early contractions that she felt at peace and like herself.

Lucien stirred and pulled out of her, rolling over onto his back. He pulled her against him in a tight embrace. "I love you, Jean. I love you more than words."

She kissed his bare chest and hummed in agreement. She didn't have any words for him now, could not seem to find voice to tell him how she felt. For the ties that bound them together did not necessitate words. Here in the darkness of their bedroom, wrapped in each other's arms, Jean and Lucien reveled in the quiet love they shared.