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“Bugger it,” Jenny muttered. The gas was well and truly out, which meant no light and worse, no heat. And with the snow and chill as bad as it was, their usual plan of spending a night or two at a local hotel was out of the question. The fireplace in the sitting room would still work, though, which meant sealing up the rest of the house, bringing down most of the blankets and pillows they owned, and huddling up in front of the fireplace. (Jenny was given to understand that in the future, small children would do this sort of thing for fun. She wasn’t sure if she believed Amy and Rory on that count.)
Jenny grunted as she set down the first armload of blankets. “You laughing at me, ma’am?” she asked as the corners of Vastra’s lips quirked up at the noise, interrupting her meditative stance as she fended off the deepening chill.
“Not at all: I was simply happy to see you. Or, I suppose, hear you.” A brief flash went over the eyes, now dulled in cheeks closer to teal than emerald. “Really, I’ll probably survive the night, regardless. Just a matter of going into a state of hibernative torpor.” Jenny did not like the word ‘probably’ or the slow speed of Vastra’s breathing.
“Well, if you are going to hibernate, we’re at least fattening you up first. I think we’ve got a good chunk of salmon in the icebox; reckon we could grill it over the fire. Maybe a bit of asparagus?”
“That sounds divine, my dear.” Jenny rushed off before she could fret any longer over Vastra’s faint smile.
***
Belly full of roasted fish, Jenny sat, back leaned against a mound of pillows and cushions, muzzily watching the fire dance. She’d stocked it back up after she’d finished cooking, and now the blaze was almost uncomfortably warm on her face, her only exposed bit of skin as the rest of her was now under a mass of blankets, wrapped tightly around her wife’s core.
“As far as emergency precautions go, this could be far worse,” Vastra murmured, leaning back and twisting her head to nuzzle against Jenny’s jawline.
“Yeah,” Jenny agreed, sleepy with what she hoped was comfort and satiation and not hypothermia. She nuzzled Vastra back. “The one thing I get to protect you from, innit?”
Vastra let out a low chuckle. “Curse my ectothermic metabolism,” she murmured, and gently squeezed Jenny’s hand, there beneath the covers. “Thank you, my knight in snuggly armor.”
Jenny snorted with amusement. “Not letting you live that one down, ma’am.”
“Oh, good,” Vastra managed before drifting off.
Jenny smiled, and waited, counting breaths and pulse beats like sheep until drowsiness claimed her, too.