"Ma'am, do I 'ave ta?" the voice of the young becoming maid sounded exasperated at best, as she stood, bathed in a slight flickering candlelight. Shadows danced teasingly across her face, casting her soft features with shadow, making the pale skinned, dark haired maiden even more mysterious.

"Of course dear," there was a calm answer, almost mocking, but with a slight air of playfulness. "One, must, at some point in time draw a picture of their beloved. Now keep still. I'm not accustomed to drawing," the young woman sighed, rolling her eyes, feeling utterly ridiculous in her stance. "Hand at hilt please dear,"

"Really Ma'am?" came the rankled reply, as the owner of said hand re-adjusted her hold on her blade, allowing the loosened, slightly sagging weapon to reposition itself into her tight grip. The maid shuffled slightly, her legs cramping, from standing for so long.

"Please love," (the affectionate name did nothing to ease the girls discomfort). "I do want this absolutely perfect,"

"Sorry Ma'am," the stern face that had been requested fell into a light smile, and rowan brown eyes met cobalt blue, causing a blush to creep up the neck from the owner of the former.

"No problem dear, I know you apes struggle to stay still for even an hour," the insult was playful and soft, with no warrant of hurt behind them. The maid stuck her tongue out in reply, fingers dancing absent-mindedly across the handle of her sword.

"What's the song?" she pondered, desperate for some type of destraction to ease her slightly aching legs. The question hung in the air, becoming lost in the soft notes that were echoing from the old converted grammar-phone that was resting in a corner.

"It's a type of modern music. Jazz, blues, I cannot really remember, I like the tones. It's far beyond our time," she paused. "Head down a little dear,"

"You ain't even done my face ye'?" the human woman's tone of voice was enough to display the frustrated-related boredom.

"It's done, I just think you look better with this angle, far more dangerous," the younger woman's face flushed at the complement.

"I still don't know why you wan' this Ma'am," the woman insisted.

"I would like more than just a flimsy carbon copy of a photo in my study," she replied, voice laced with affection. "Something far more real," the servant girl was about to open her mouth, and the reptile's own slanted into a teasing smile. "When you're not there of course. A simple photo doesn't bring out your natural beauty my love," both knew that the affectionate words were rare, but the reptilian couldn't help but love the way that her wife's face flushed fiercely into to adoring red veil that covered her way down to her neck. "Please dear, hold your stance," the stance being a tilted, ramrod straight back, and her best you've-just-pissed-me-off glower.

"'his music's perfec' to dance ta," the younger woman hinted, catching the blue eyes of her lover, enjoying the way that they glimmered from the light of the fire.

"Is that that a hint love?" the reptilian's mouth quirked into a smile, the soft smooth scales moving in tandem.

"Possibly Ma'am," the girl replied, the smile could be heard within her voice, and the reptiles laugh surprised them both, as her foot started to tap out a continuous rhythm.

"I believe I can colour this later, even though I love your tie I can always do it in black and white. I wouldn't want to upset my mammal even more if she's so restless,"

"I'm no'-"

"Enough dear, this is getting rather tedious, even if your very much empowered by those gorgeous choice of clothes I must insist, even this sitting is starting to become tiresome," neither could allow the grins to stop from forming on their lips, as the woman of the household stood, brushing down her skirts, and the first woman of her household allowed her sword to slide into it's sheath, and happily slipped off the brown leather gloves. "I have to say dear, those corduroys rather suit you, you should wear them more," she caught her wife's hands before they strayed to the buckle of the clasp that dedicated the weapon to her waist. "Allow me," there was a surprising playfulness that sparkled in the lizard's eyes.

"Are you flirtin' wit' me Ma'am?" the maid asked delighted, her voice echoing her own pleasure.

"Am I doing it right?" the elder woman paused, her fingers brushing the royal blue waistcoat that adorned her lover's chest.

"What if I told you yes?"

"I'd hafta say it's workin'," the younger woman always loved the way that her mistress could make her weak at the knees with a simple smile.

"Well young Jenny, I'm glad it is," the woman's hands walked their way upwards to her beloved's neck, loosening the tie around her neck, and bringing her up into a brief chaste kiss. "So," she arched her hands across her wife's neck, and reached up to undo the pins that were criss-crossed the bun tight across the back of her head. "So Jenny my dear," she paused, allowing her hands to tangle themselves tight into her soft locks of long hair. "What about that dancing?"


Several hours later, the young maid eased her way off the sofa (for they had never managed to quite get to the bed), ignoring the protests of her other half. Brushing a tender kiss across her lover's forehead the woman made her way through the house towards the drawing room, wondering about her picture from before. As she wandered into the sitting room the grammar-phone was still playing, the soft lilts of an instrument she didn't recognise, wafted through the room, it's tenor soft tones echoing sounds of a place that she'd never visit, and the deep male voice spoke of experiences that where far beyond her time. Shaking her head at her mistress's bizarre taste in music she turned off the player. A small frown formed on her face when she realised that the candle had almost died down to the wick, it's dying light streaking a desperate flickering orange across the room with a frightening loss of life. Extinguishing the candle the woman moved towards the sketch pad that had been placed lovingly down on her wife's favourite high backed armchair. Gently picking it up she gasped.

Vastra had drawn her, so raw, so amazingly beautiful it was hard to put into words, or form into a distinguishable sentence. She almost dropped the inked sketch in surprise, utterly humbled at the way that her wife saw her.

"I have not angered you my love?" the woman looked up, her face pulled into a soft smile, blinking her tears out of her eyes.

"No Ma'am," her smile grew. "I jus' didn't thin' I looked like this. That's all,"

Laughing to her comment of her art work the lizard-woman swung forwards, pulling the younger female to her side, and pressing a soft kiss to her warm forehead. "You don't,"

The dark haired woman cocked her head to the side, a question forming on her lips. "Not to everyone, as I'd be extremely jealous," the maid couldn't help but let a sprinkling of a blush spring to her cheeks. Chuckling Vastra reached up, and with a tender clawed hand tucked a ringlet of hair back behind her ear. "This is how I see you, my strong, dependable, beautiful little mammal,"

Slanting her head back Jenny stole a quick kiss from her unsuspecting wife. "Thank-you," she sighed and rested her head on her woman's bare shoulder, still looking in slightly awe and adoration at the sketch. "Thank-you,"


Huh, well this didn't turn out the way I expected. It was inspired by a comment from the Madame Vastra/Jenny page on Tumblr. And that's where the photo came from as well. Hope you liked it.

Procrastinating to the max! :D

This piece was written to Hugh Lauries new album, It Didn't Rain. Go check it out, it's brilliant!

Reviews would make my day, and favourites make me feel all good inside! :D

Have a nice week!

Ciao, LostLyra.