One would not normally consider a British police call box too out of the ordinary, but then one did not normally come upon one in Vienna in the year 1791, and certainly not one materializing out of thin air. By chance, it appeared in a dark alley at four thirty in the morning, so no one took much notice, save for a rat or two.

For several minutes it sat there silently, just another object collecting snow drifts in the early morning cold.

Suddenly the boxes' only door flung open and a tall man in a pinstripe suit and ratty trainers stepped out and inhaled the night air deeply. "Ah," he sighed. "There's nothing like the smell of pre-industrial air right after a snowstorm."

Immediately behind him, a young woman with black hair and caramel colored skin stepped out and took her own sniff. "Smells like urine to me," she said wrinkling her nose as she looked around the dirty alley they now occupied.

"Yes well besides that I mean," the man said as he too looked around.

"This way," he pointed as he took off toward the mouth of the alley.

"Wait, Doctor," his companion Martha called after him as she hurried to catch up. "Where and when are we and where are you off to?"

"Vienna, Austria, 1791. And as to where I'm going, I felt in the mood for a little night music."

Martha had very little idea as to what he was talking about, but after all the time she had spent traveling with him, she was quite used to that. So with a little sigh, she held her questions and followed after.

When she caught up to him a moment later he was standing in a lamp lit intersection looking around hesitantly.

An old man passing in the other direction gave them and their strange garb no more than a passing glance before taking another swig from his half empty bottle and continuing on his way.

"Where are we going?" Martha asked again.

"To see an old composer friend of mine," the Doctor said as he started up another street.

"A composer friend?" Martha asked. "Who…?" her voice trailed off as realization dawned. "Vienna, late seventeen hundreds. You don't mean…"

The Doctor looked at her and smiled one of his thousand watt smiles. "Yup, We're about to pay a house call to Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart."

Martha was startled. "Mozart? And you actually know him? I mean you said he's a friend of yours right?"

The Doctor gave a small grimace as she said that. "Well not exactly a friend. More of a passing acquaintance. Or at least he will be."

"What's that supposed to mean 'will be'?"

"Ah, here it is," the Doctor said stopping in front of a plain looking door. As he looked up at the building they stood before, he pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his suit pocket. He used it a moment on the lock before opening the door. They stepped into a mostly dark hallway with a staircase before them. As the Doctor headed for the steps, Martha asked again, "What did you mean 'Will be'?"

The Doctor looked back at her. "Shh. We don't want to wake anyone."

When they finished climbing the stairs, the Doctor fiddled with his sonic screwdriver again before opening a door into the Mozart residence. He looked at Martha. "Wait here for a moment."

Martha was about to protest, but the door was promptly shut in her face. So she occupied herself by picking at some peeling paint.

Less than two minutes passed before the door opened and out came the Doctor. Hung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes was the most famous composer in history.

"You've Kidnapped Mozart!" Martha almost screamed in astonishment as the Doctor stepped into the hallway.

"Keep your voice down," the Doctor admonished. "Do you want someone calling the police on us?"

"But you kidnapped Mozart," she said again.

"He'll be dead by tomorrow anyway," the Doctor replied.

"What!" Martha exclaimed. This time she did shout a little.

"Well that's what the history books say anyway."

"Where are you going with him?" Martha asked as she followed the Doctor back down the stairs.

"To the TARDIS of course."

And with that, he walked out into the street with Martha trailing behind him wondering just what on earth the Doctor had planned.

As they walked the Doctor started humming a tune.

"Hey I recognize that," Martha said.

"I should hope so," the Doctor said. "It's one of his most famous pieces. The Marriage of Figaro. How about this one," he said and started humming another tune.

"Umm, it sounds familiar but I'm not sure," Martha replied.

"Symphony number 40 in G minor. And this one?"

Martha listened for a moment. "No, I don't recognize that one at all."

"Oh. No, I guess you wouldn't. He wrote it in 2806."

"As in the year 2806?" Martha asked in disbelief.

"Yup," came the Doctors reply.

"But you just said he's about to die."

"Oh, he is, but it's amazing what twenty ninth century medicine and a few months rest can do for a man."

"You mean you kidnapped him so that you could bring him to the future and save his life?"

"He was much too great a man to be allowed to die so young. Some of his best works are still in front of him." the Doctor said as he and Martha stepped into the TARDIS.

"But if we're kidnapping him to the future, won't someone report him missing? I never read about his going missing in my history books. They said he was buried in a pauper's field. If we're taking him to the future, then what will they have to bury!"

"Oh, they buried him all right," the Doctor said as he worked the controls. "Well, not him him. He died at the age of ninety two. People would be suspicious if he aged fifty seven years overnight. No, it was a genetic duplicate of how he appears now. Not really him of course, but nobody in the eighteenth century would be able to tell the difference."

"But where is it?" Martha asked as they entered the TARDIS. "You didn't bring a body in there with you."

"Not yet, but I'm sure I will at some point. With the TARDIS at my disposal, I can do it any time I want."

As Martha tried to figure that out, the Doctor left the control room with Mozart still slumped over his shoulder.

A few minutes later he came back alone. As he walked over to the main control panel he looked at Martha and grinned. "Next stop Vienna, 2790. We'll drop him off at the local hospital and then jump forward a few months to 2791. There was a worldwide memorial commemorating the one thousandth anniversary of Mozart's death. I can't wait to see everyone's faces when he comes out on stage and plays them a little something."

Still grinning, the Doctor pulled the lever, and the TARDIS disappeared.