Lucien and Jean's twenty four hours after the case.

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Lucien clenched his jaw in the taxi from the station. Jean had had time to tell Mattie and Charlie they would have the house to themselves for the next day, she and Lucien would be away, with Amelia overnight.

They barely stopped for a cup of tea before stocking the car with the linen for the cabin and Amelia's things and enough clothes for themselves. Amelia was rapidly out growing the makeshift cot they had for her but for now it would have to do. On the way through town they would stop to buy milk and bread, and enough privosions to see them through.

Jean opted to drive, Lucien was like a coiled spring and she didn't trust him to drive at a sensible speed or stop when someone else got in his way. Neither spoke on the drive, Amelia kept them occupied with her contented burbling in the back, she was so good in the car.

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She pulled up outside the cabin and turned to look at him. He had kept a hard, granite like expression on his face all the way and didn't move now. She reached into the glove box to retrieve the door key and went to unlock the cabin.

She unloaded Amelia, the linen and cool box, then the small suitcase.

Putting the baby on the floor she lifted the axe from its hook and went out to him, still sitting in the car. She opened the door and stood aside, she waited, coughed and looked at him. An angry Lucien took some very careful treatment.

Slowly he raised his head and unfolded himself out of the car. Jean pushed his jacket off him and unbuttoned his waistcoat before pushing that off and undoing his tie. He managed to raise his eyebrows when she started to undo his shirt buttons,

'I'm not having this shirt ruined,' she tutted and pushed it off his shoulders leaving him standing in his trousers and singlet.

'There's the wood, don't come in until you are ready.' She kissed him, 'if it takes all night, my love.'

She turned and went into the cabin, closing the door and leaning against it. Only now would she allow the tears to fall for the children, for Lucien.

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He put down the axe and started to pile the logs up against the wall under the window. There was little light, now, only the moonlight through the trees and a shaft of lamplight from the living area. By the time he had finished there was enough wood to last a couple of months, at least. He ran his hands through his hair and decided he was less than fresh so he headed to the stream and threw handfuls of ice cold water over his head, rubbing his face with his hands. He took off his singlet and soaked it in the crystal clear liquid and washed his torso, shivering.

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All was quiet in the cabin. Amelia was fast asleep in her cot, the oil lamp was turned down to give a soft glow and, looking through to the bedroom Lucien saw Jean asleep in their bed. For the first time in days he smiled properly.

He turned to the table wondering if she had left him anything to eat, he had worked up a hunger and a thirst. There on the table was a plate under which was another plate with a ham, cheese and tomato sandwich and a bottle of beer next to it, not his usual tipple but better than a bottle of whisky. He sat on the couch and munched on the sandwich and sipped the beer straight from the bottle. He stretched his legs out in front of him and sighed. His wife was an amazing woman, he thought. She knew just what to do, leave him to work it out, physically, without trying to get him to talk until he was ready. He may never be ready to talk about this case to her, but if he was she would be there to listen without trying to placate him or justify the actions of those people who had brought such misery and pain to innocent children.

He washed the plate, taking care not to make any noise and decided he was ready to join his wife in bed.

Changing into fresh shorts and using the basic facilities, he went back into the bedroom and climbed carefully into the bed. Jean stirred and turned towards him. He kissed her forehead and took her in his arms, smiling as he realised she was using his shirt as a nightdress, and let her snuggle against his chest. She lifted her face and sleepily kissed his lips, humming with yearning.

'Lucien...' she sighed and stroked his side lazily.

Blake moved a wisp of hair off her cheek and pushed his fingers into her hair pulling her to him and pressing his lips to hers, feeling her lips part and he slipped his tongue over hers. The kisses became deeper, longer leaving them almost breathless, as if they were just discovering each other.

She started to dig her fingers into his side and push down to his backside, grabbing the tight flesh there. She felt him become aroused and ran her toes down his shin. He shivered and undid the buttons of his shirt opening it to find her breasts and hardened nipples. He pushed her onto her back and started to tease her with his tongue, his lips, nipping and sucking, circling with his tongue. Moving down her stomach and kissing her belly button, then leaving little marks round it. He kissed the roundness of her pregnancy, moved down to between her legs, hearing her gasp as he used his tongue to excite her, making her lift her hips slightly as her breath came in little huffs.

'Lucien,' she gulped, 'oh... oh..., mmm... now, please.' She was losing control, she wanted him inside her.

He started to move up her body again, using his fingers to keep her gasping, until he was at her mouth, and she could reach down to push his shorts off him and release his hardness. As he moved over her she guided him in and pulled him into a frantic rhythm to a head pounding release and she couldn't help but scream in blinding pleasure.

'Hello, Jean.' He grinned cheekily as he rolled to her side, not wanting to crush her.

'You're back then,' she gasped reaching over to his handsome face.

'Sorry, didn't mean to be away so long.' He pulled her close. 'I love you, Jean.'

'Love you too,' she yawned and cuddled close, letting her eyes close but still retaining a smile on her face.

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Amelia woke them earlier than they would have liked, she was the only one who had slept properly over the past weeks. Jean turned out of Lucien's arms and pulled the shirt on. She padded out of the bedroom and picked the baby up, kissing the burgeoning curls and shifting her to one hip. She had left the kettle full for the morning tea and to heat Amelia's bottle. She would have to disturb Lucien and have him take the baby while she attended to her needs before she did anything else.

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Jean put more wood in the stove and adjusted the position of the kettle. She noticed Lucien had eaten the sandwich she had left for him and drunk the beer. He'd tried so hard to keep himself together during the case and for the most part he'd managed it, but he'd seemed so far away, even when they had made love. It hadn't hurt, that he couldn't talk to her, because she knew he didn't want to upset or frighten her or take away her faith. But it wasn't him who took her faith, it was the men who had taken the boys who shook it. She still couldn't turn completely from the church, she had been brought up to believe in god, to love god as a just and merciful god, but maybe she needed to look at things a little more rationally.

She took the tea and milk through to Lucien and smiled at the sight of him blowing on Amelia's tummy and tickling her feet. Amelia was giggling and reaching for his ears or his hair, whichever came within reach.

'Well,' Jean sat on the end of the bed, 'someone's having fun.' She grinned.

'Here's mummy, Amelia,' he picked the baby up so Jean could sit down by him, 'and mummy has milk.' He took the bottle from Jean and settled back on the bed to do his fatherly duty. He found feeding the baby calming and she seemed to know this, watching him with her round blue eyes. He saw much of Jean in her, the intense gaze, deep, almost penetrating his soul. Jean did that sometimes, when he was puzzling over a medical issue and she would watch him.

Jean washed the baby and dressed her in a little blouse and a pair of dungarees, then went to wash and dress. Lucien wondered if she would ever wear trousers, for walking in the forest, perhaps, but Jean was Jean and she wore a shift dress, which disguised her slight bump, stockings and low heeled shoes.

Jean let Amelia play on the floor while she fried some bacon for hers and Lucien's breakfast. She scrambled some eggs for the three of them in the same pan.

Breakfast was a little messy, due to Amelia trying to eat with her hands, again, but this time Jean kept the plate out of reach and spooned the food into her gaping mouth.

'Like a baby bird,' Lucien laughed between mouthfuls of bacon and egg.

'More like a hotel laundry chute,' Jean took a brief moment to take a mouthful of her own food before returning to feeding her daughter.

'Jean..' he teased.

'Well... she barely swallows before her mouth is open again.' Jean put another spoonful in as Amelia bounced on her knee and reached for the spoon. 'Oh no you don't miss,' she scolded, 'I'd like to wear a dress for more than five minutes.'

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It was ideal for a walk, fresh, not too warm but not too cold either. Jean put a spare bottle for Amelia in a bag together with a flask of tea and a few things the baby could eat if she got hungry, which was more than likely. They would take turns carrying her and Jean wondered if they should invest in a small pushchair to keep there. As she grew she would get too heavy to carry, and even when she was walking she wouldn't be able to walk as far as her parents, and when their own baby came along...

They found a shady spot under some trees and sat down, letting Amelia explore the grass with her hands, though not letting her put it in her mouth. Jean offered her a biscuit to placate her and she sat there, gumming it and spreading the mess around her face. Jean shook her head and smiled, then shifted to sit against her husband and he draped an arm round her shoulders.

'I'm sorry, Jean.' He murmured, staring ahead into the distance, 'I haven't been much fun to live with lately.'

'You don't have to apologise to me, darling,' she pulled his hand to her mouth and kissed it, 'I understand. I am always here, if you want to talk, when you want to talk.'

'Thank you.' He kissed the top of her head, 'but this case went beyond anything I thought Ballarat could throw at us.'

'They weren't Ballarat people, Lucien.' Jean shifted against him, 'I think they just used the first place they could find that would suit their needs. Out of a town, a place that was lonely, ripe for building into anything. They just chose to use it to satisfy their own warped needs.'

'Matthew is going to suggest the buildings are torn down and the fences removed.' He told her. 'Best idea, I think. Who would want to live in a place with such history?'

'Mm...' she agreed, 'best left as grazing, perhaps.'

They drank the tea from the flask and gave Amelia the milk before deciding they should wander back to the cabin.

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Jean prepared a light lunch for them, salad and cold meat she had bought the previous day, and heated up some vegetables she had cooked while Lucien was venting his fury on the wood for Amelia. She surprised him with her ability to cater for all their needs with the most basic of facilities but, again, he thought of the extension that would have to be done soon, or they would not be able to continue to use the place if they had Amelia with them. He thought that would be a shame, it had become almost essential for them.

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He washed and dried the dishes while she put Amelia down for a nap then joined her on the couch.

'I think I'll go and see the boys when we get back, talk to Robbie.' He addressed his words to the room in general, 'he seems to be the best one to pass on any news to the rest of them.'

'He seems a level headed young man.' Jean agreed, 'I suppose every group has to have a leader, someone to take charge.'

'I don't know if he suffered like the others, but as the oldest perhaps he was able to defend himself a little better.' Lucien thought about the boy, somehow more self assured than the others. Who knew how the life he had been forced to lead had affected him. 'I'm worried about Sid though.'

'The little one?' Jean asked thinking of the little information he had passed on to her, 'poor little lad. I wonder how he's coped without you or Alice around.'

'Not well, I should think.' Lucien turned to her, 'you should see Alice with him. I never thought I'd see Dr Harvey bond with a child so easily and so well. She cares deeply for him, and he seems calm in her company, yet she does nothing but clean him, dress his cuts and bruises, and put him to bed.'

'Perhaps it is just that.' Jean squeezed his hand, 'she isn't constantly hugging and kissing him, she treats him as a person, is kind and gentle but strong with him too.'

'Maybe.' He put his arm round her. 'Now, talking of kissing...' He tipped her face to his, 'how long do you think madam will sleep?'

'An hour, maybe two.' She responded between kisses. 'long enough.'

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Jean stroked her fingers through the hair on his chest, satisfied with his ministrations. They had left Amelia in the living room to sleep and spent the time touching and kissing. Slowly removing articles of clothing that impeded their progress over each other's bodies until they both lay naked on the bed. They gave themselves totally to each other, the rest of the world disappeared as they reached for the stars and finally came back down to earth breathing hard and gripping flesh in their releasing, Jean biting her lip so as not to scream and wake Amelia.

Lucien stroked little circles on her shoulder and sighed contentedly. He felt he relax as she succumbed to sleep, the only time she slept during the day now she had got over the tiredness from the early part of her pregnancy. When she awoke they would have to pack and head home to see what had happened while they were away in Melbourne, and he needed to see the boys, that was his priority.

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Amelia had woken them, better than any alarm clock, Lucien laughed. Jean washed first while Lucien gave the baby a drink, then they swapped over and between them the stripped the bed, packed the suitcase and tidied the cabin. They would be back the following week when they visited Ruby, but may leave Amelia with Mattie if she was available.

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Lucien drove them back to Ballarat, thanking Jean for having driven them out. He confessed he remembered nothing of the journey but Jean just said nothing surprising happened, which was true, and if he wanted her to drive again, that was perfectly fine.

The roads were relatively quiet and they made good time into town. Everything seemed so ordinary as they drove passed the familiar shops, tooted the horn at Bill Hobart strolling the streets and even waved good naturedly at Patrick Tyneman, stomping into the club. Jean laughed,

'Susan must have been making demands again,' she observed.

'...or he's been caught cheating, again.' Lucien responded with perhaps a more logical reason.

'Idiot.'

'Him or me?' Lucien grinned, knowing he deserved the label often enough.

'Him, this time.' She turned and smiled at him and then they were turning into the drive, to be greeted by a sour looking Nurse O'Brien who opened the door to see who had come up the drive.

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Shorter chapter than Matthew and Alice's. The reason for Mattie's sour expression will be explained in hers and Charlie's chapter.