Home Is Where The Girl Is


A little story I wrote of my take on how Madame Vastra and Jenny Flint's relationship blossomed.

Adventure / Romance
5.0 1 review
Age Rating:

Chapter 1 Eternity

Home Is Where The Girl Is

A little story about how Madame Vastra & Jenny Flint's relationship blossomed.

Author's Notes 1: This is before the Strax – the Sontaran comes into the picture.

Eternity - is the amount of time that two people will share with one another if they were placed on this earth to meet. These two people will feel a true love that only few will ever be lucky enough to experience. If you are ever blessed enough to gain this rare love, your life will forever be changed for the better. (urbanDICTIONARY dot you know what)

Chapter 1 – Eternity

As Madame Vastra and Jenny Flint strolled out of the dark alley, late one evening, the eloquent speaking Silurian spoke, "I believe I have a real knack for this sort of thing." Her jubilated statement sounded more like a triumph than bragging.

The dark haired human to her right quickly glanced back where they had just wrapped up a meeting with Scotland Yard's top detective. For the newly paired investigators, it was another criminal stopped and another case solved. Jenny Flint knew that she and her mentor were rapidly gaining favor with London's metropolitan police as another impossible case was resolved.

Returning to the moment, the former match girl halted her forward progress just a few feet behind her employer. Realizing she had not answered the ancient lizard, she said "Yes…" The young maiden meagerly concurred in her thick cockney accent. "I agree miss. I thought it'd be a lot harder to chase down thems murders."

The woman before her, who was shrouded from head to toe in all black, was short to correct her employee. "Hunt down Miss Jenny Flint – hunt not chase."

Jenny's soft pale cheeks flushed as the woman she had become to admire for her strength and dominance rectified. Never before had the young match girl met someone like the warrior woman. Her every action proudly displayed that nothing could or would stand in her way. There were a many nights in which the maiden would lay in her servant's quarters at night, staring at the ceiling and ponder, "…she really is fearless, it's not even an act."

For the young cockney girl there was a lot in her new life she had to get used to. In the last few weeks she had gone multiple nights without supper, to now having more options for every meal than she had ever dreamed of. She was still in a mild form of shock that it was like that every day. In her room, instead of an old thin mattress, that she felt every squeaky unsupportive board underneath, the maiden now found herself sleeping on a thick down filled mattress; nearly six inches thick.

When Jenny Flint thought it could not get any better, Madam Vastra then informed her that every three months a professional would come and tighten the bed straps that held up the comfy mattress. Another unbelievable luxury that took the former match girl some time to get used to was that she could take a bath; completely alone and undisturbed anytime she pleased. It was nearly two weeks before the lady of the house realized that her maid was only using cold water. It was music to her ears to learn that all the hot water she wanted was also included in the arrangement.

Although deep in thought, Jenny heard the sophisticated woman next to her suck in suddenly. Beginning to become impatient waiting for a taxi to show up in the late hours of the night, the Silurian gradually released the captured air. Trails of her frozen breath floated off into the sky. "The air is not as brisk as normal. Summer should be just around the corner from now."

Feeling as if she were freezing to death, the dark hair beauty's mind drifted back to her dwelling. In the grand household, where Madame Vastra was lady of the house and sole owner, was a middle-aged Russian woman who orchestrated the galley. The woman had short dark red hair, which often looked unkempt at least as far as London's 1880's standards were concerned. For the time, it was traditional for women to keep their hair long and neatly pinned up. Jenny often thought the cook looked as if she ran egg yokes through her mane. The stringy hair always had a wild look to it by the end of the day.

In the back of the home, was the room where all the noise came from. "Red", what the middle-aged woman preferred being called, was always banging her pots and pans in the kitchen before and after every meal. It supposedly sounded like the Overture of 1812 – at least that is what, Cardwell said about her. He was butler at Poternoster Row. Older in years but he came with the Victorian house Vastra said.

Cardwell complained about her a lot, but she liked to cook her meat rare; which was perfect for Madame Vastra and her special diet. Jenny often wondered where she found such a woman. But it happened one day, the plump woman showed up, knocked on the door and in her thick Russian accent asked, "Where's the kitchen?" She never missed a day of work, having every Sunday off, and kept to herself, no matter what the mistress of the house asked to be served.

Beginning to loose feeling in the tip of her nose in the chilly night, Jenny was starting to wonder if a rentable carriage would ever show. Bundling herself up even more, she hid her shivers from the prestigious Victorian. The maiden's young brown eyes scanned over Vastra's outfit ensuring everything was still in place. It was her job after all to look after the well educated woman. Jenny had originally been signed on to the estate as a maid; however it did not take long for Madame Vastra to find other useful ways to keep the young maiden busy.

The warrior woman was unable to bare the thought of running around the streets at night fighting crime with the same woman who cleaned her water closet. So as far as the mundane chores were concerned, another servant was hired. She was a French woman who did not speak much English and much to the private employer's preference, she kept to herself. Sonja polished the silver, did the wash and most of the cleaning.

Jenny Flint's new tasks were finding ways for Madam Vastra to move about the city without incident. It had been her idea after all for the warrior to wear a veil. When strangers asked about the near opaque lace, the well educated woman simply mentioned a death in her family. The somber answer halted any curiosity from spawning which included her seamstress, as the touchy subject was quickly dropped. But truth be told, the story the Silurian told was not a lie. Vastra had in fact lost several of her sisters when she returned to the Earth's surface. The willing servant discovered that every time her mistress repeated the explanation, there was a underlying sadness in her tone.

With a faint flip of her wrist, Madam Vastra called for a carriage that was headed down the cobble street. Striking a pose in which the young girl had come to love, Madame Vastra waited impatiently for the horse and buggy to reach them. The human could not help wonder how easy it was for the Silurian to boss people around, after all she had been a senior military officer thousands of feet below the Earth's Surface.

Vastra's companion was the one who passed the driver several coins to pay for the ride home. Settling back into the deep pockets of the carriages' cozy seats, the warrior woman sat in silence – even long after the young match girl entered. They had gone several blocks before the not customarily quiet lizard lady got the best of her and Jenny began to speak.

Without warning, the pale skinned girl was immediately silenced by Madame Vastra as soon as she uttered a sound. Raising a finger to her lips, to the woman whose back was facing the driver, the proper speaking woman hissed, "Shhh – do not ruin the moment."

Greatly confused, the former match girl suddenly realized that the green skinned woman had been starring at her the whole time. It was then that warrior woman's black glove slowly rose to the open window of the carriage. Leisurely moving her fingers about, the hand seemed to dance in the moon's light. Leaning forward a bit, Vastra elevated her hand as if to lift the unclouded light with it. She was showing that the moon's brilliant beam had been showering the maiden for the entire trip, and to her great satisfaction she was greedily enjoying the view.

Although she tried to hide it, the prehistoric soldier knew that by now Jenny could see even the slightest facial expressions under that near opaque veil she wore. But as the carriage made a sharp turn around a large building, blocking the moon's luminescent light, the eloquent mistress began to realize the color of her skin was not the only thing she would try to conceal.

Entering the foyer of the great Victorian home, Madame Vastra finally spoke more than typical pleasantries. Soothingly, the lady of the house revealed as she removed her gloves, "Jenny, I would like you to join me tomorrow." The unexpected statement caught the young maiden off guard as the skilled fighter dropped her dark gauntlets in a silver platter by the door. However before the second fine leather glove landed in the dish, Jenny protested.

"But Miss, what about the cleaning of the curtains? You asked me to wash them tomorrow. "

With a disturbed huff, the black clad woman started to speak as if Jenny had a choice. "I will simply hire someone else. There are far better things to do with your time Miss Jenny Flint." It was music to the Silurian's ears to speak the full name of the one and only human she respected, but unbeknownst to her, the dark hair beauty also liked hearing it.

Wrapping up the evening and the conversation Madame Vastra stated as plainly as she could, "If you are to continue to be my assistant, I am going to need to train you." Beginning her journey up the stairs, the eloquent woman explained, "So first thing tomorrow morning, I expect you to wear the clothes I have left on your bed." Moving up the winding staircase, the former match girl heard a little rise and perhaps a twinge of joy in Vastra's tone as she added, "Sword play 101 starts promptly at 8."

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