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Jean showed Lucien's patient into his office before she headed to the kitchen, where she paced up and down restlessly, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach.
She knew she couldn't put it off any longer, but then again, this was the third night in a row she had paced like this, planning to go through with it, before backing out at the last second.
But tonight was the night.
It wasn't like he'd be angry...would he?
She didn't think so, but then again, this was something they had never discussed, not even in passing. Looking back, that seemed silly. But seriously, she kept asking herself, why would they? At their age?!
It was almost twenty minutes later when Lucien's door opened and the patient emerged, smiling at Jean, who hurried down the hall to show her out.
"Jean?" Lucien called as she closed the front door, "Was she the last one?"
Jean stared at the door to his office and bit her lip nervously.
"Jean?" Lucien repeated, a little louder.
"Um, there is actually one more," Jean answered, barely loud enough for him to hear.
After a moment, she took a deep breath, forced a confident smile and swept into his room, closing the door behind her.
Lucien watched as she stood uncertainly in front of his desk, hopping from one foot to the other.
"My last patient?" the doctor asked in confusion.
"Yes," she replied "That would be a...um...Mrs Blake."
"What?" he frowned, "You mean you? What's the matter? Tell me now, Jean."
Jean walked the few steps to the chair slowly, well aware that at this point, she was just delaying the inevitable.
Unless she suddenly faked a migraine or something...
"Jean!"
The worry in Lucien's voice made her forget any attempt to lie. She was terrible at it anyway, and he'd probably see through her in a second.
"I was wondering if you could, um, do a blood test for me?"
"Well, I hope so, I am a doctor!" he attempted a joke, but failed to hide his concern.
"Okay. Good. Thank you," Jean nodded her head firmly.
There was a pause, as Lucien waited expectantly for more information while Jean looked everywhere but at him.
"Jean?" he leaned forward, feeling panic rise in his chest, "For goodness sake, tell me. Whatever it is. Please. You're scaring me."
"Look, I'm sure it's nothing but I've been feeling a bit off-colour recently. Tired, you know?"
"Right," he nodded, "You're probably a little anaemic. That can be easily fixed."
Lucien stood and went to the cupboard containing his medical supplies.
"If you could just roll your sleeve up for me..." he muttered as he selected the required equipment.
Jean cleared her throat before telling him more.
"The tiredness isn't my only symptom."
"Okay, that's fine, we should still check your iron levels, though," Lucien was still rummaging in the cupboard.
"I've been feeling a bit sick..."
"Mmm-hmmm..."
"...in the mornings..."
Lucien registered the emphasis she placed on her words before the words themselves sunk in.
"That could be any number of things..." he stopped abruptly as he processed her meaning.
Jean found that she was holding her breath, half-tempted to run straight out of the room and then out of the front door as well, without looking back.
"Jean?" he asked quietly as he turned around to face her, "Are you...are you saying...?"
"I might be," she whispered, wide eyes locked onto his, "Is...I mean, would that be okay?"
Lucien barely heard her, blinking rapidly as his thoughts raced.
"But I never even thought...how...how did that happen?"
Jean could not prevent a giggle escaping, despite feeling increasingly nervous.
"Surely they taught you that at medical school?" she asked, "Or did you miss that lecture?"
Lucien smiled sheepishly. "I meant...I never even considered...I...well, I guess we haven't exactly been, um, restraining ourselves from, um, certain aspects of married life..."
Jean blushed, replying "Yes, well, I didn't hear any complaints about all of that."
Lucien grinned, "Neither did I."
Jean rolled her eyes at him and indicated her rolled-up sleeve.
"Are you going to stop looking so pleased with yourself, Dr Blake, and get on with your job?"
Lucien took the seat next to Jean and neither of them said a word as he took a blood sample from her as gently as he could. When he'd finished, he placed a plaster on her arm and looked at her carefully.
"Lucien," she repeated her earlier question, "If I...am...would that be, um, would you...?"
Lucien took both of her hands in his and moved closer to her.
"Jean, you know how much I love you, don't you?"
She nodded.
"Well, I can't think of anything I want more than for us to have a baby. I couldn't be happier!"
"Are you sure?" she asked tentatively, "I mean, it's a baby. At our age!"
"I don't know about you, Mrs Blake, but I'm feeling particularly sprightly right now!"
"Typical man," she muttered, "You're just happy that everyone will know you've still got it in you!"
"I'm happy because the woman I love is carrying my child."
"Might be carrying your child," Jean reminded him.
"You are," he insisted, "I just know it."
"Lucien," she warned, "Don't get carried away. Please. Not until we know for sure."
"Okay, okay," he held his hands up in defeat, "My lips are sealed."
"Good," Jean nodded, "Thank you."
"But...we should do something. Not to celebrate. Just to...acknowledge the possibility."
Jean shook her head, but she was laughing at the same time.
"You're incorrigible!"
Lucien just continued to look at her, a smile on his face as he began rubbing her right knee with his left hand.
"We could always..." Jean ventured, "Well, I could always remind you...what you missed in that lecture..."
As she trailed off, Lucien's smile widened into a grin and he winked at her, taking both of her hands in his and pulling her to her feet.
"I'm clearly not the only one who's incorrigible," he said, leaning down to kiss her before she pulled away and led him towards their bedroom.