Author's Note: In which we get a poem I wrote. Here's to a little fluff.

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For their first full year together, Jenny went easy on the still freshly-woken Madame Vastra and guided her fair verdant love through the day from start to finish.

They awoke in the Madame's bed, flush together with Vastra wrapped in Jenny's warm embrace.

Jenny reached under her pillow and slipped out a lightly-dyed paper edged in a green material reminiscent of scales. She pressed a kiss to one of Vastra's horns as she slipped an arm over the woman and deposited the paper beside her on the pillow.

Another endless moment before the lovely lizard roused enough to pluck up the poem and read it aloud, getting the rhythm right on the first try in a way Jenny had failed during her frenzied writing.

When dawns arise

I seek thine eyes

To draw me into daylight.

Slumber fades to waking dreams.

Against the scales

My fingers trail

Eternity awaits me:

The morn' outlives its slanting beams.

Stay with me,

For me with thee

Casts light on dawn and day –

What will you say?

Join me in the dusk,

Hid beneath your husk

Of sheer dark fin'ry:

Shall we make this fine day gay?

What dost thou say,

My love so bright?

Dine me, dance me,

Wit and wine me—

Cast me to this raptured night?

Jenny cleared her throat and looked away at the final stanza, was quick to state she was nary a poet and had barely writ since her school-days, which had been limited enough. Vastra made a wry comment about her diction—and the impact of dating an immortal time-traveller on her Victorian-estranged vocabulary—but rolled atop her to show the force of her pleasure.

With that Jenny met her raptured night before the sun had risen, and again before they left the bed, then once more before they left the house for a stroll of the city, culminating in an evening meal. A full day with Vastra was an endless one: stories of time past and yet to come; words of worlds so different from her own; characters so diverse of nature and spirit as to press at Jenny's very imagination. She could spend whole lifetimes listening to her timeless new beau.

The raptured night came not quite as she imagined, and yet as often with Vastra, much better:

Vastra wrapped around her tight and made the sorts of low-guttural sounds Jenny very much hoped the neighbours wouldn't hear—mostly. Though it didn't stop Jenny from encouraging such noises and finding her own rapture at the press of cool, scaled skin against her ears.

It was the best Valentine's Day she had ever known—and it wasn't over yet.