Doctor Who: ALBION

Chapter 1 - Reflection

Disclaimer - I don't own nothing or nobody you know/recognize. Doctor Who is intellectual property of the BBC, afaik. Torchwood created by Russell T. Davis.

Characters: Doctor, Capt. Jack, Gwen, Rhys, OCs+

"BLIMEY!" the man grunted, coming to and wondering why he was on the floor. Disoriented, he looked around, only to see the last face he wanted to at the moment. "You? Is this your fault?"

Jack Harkness smiled as he knelt down to help the man up. "Morning, Sunshine," he replied. "How are you feeling after-well, what just happened?"

"It's hard to breathe," he replied, then felt a twinge as if he had been hit. No, as if something had popped off of him. A faint clink against metal confirmed this a second later.

"Oi! Watch where you're firing those things!" came a female voice. He tried to sit up to see who it was only to have another button fly off. "Hey!" she yelled again.

He tried to focus on her. She looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place her name. The chap trying to stifle a chuckle at her side was new to him, wasn't he?

"Do I know you lot?" he asked in a gruff voice.

"Jack, is this normal?" she asked the man kneeling by him.

"I'm not entirely sure, Gwen," he replied, helping the man to his feet. "This is only the second time I've seen him do this. Well, technically third, but that one time didn't count."

"Second time I've done what?" he grunted, rubbing his head, then realizing his suit was very constrictive, as if he had suddenly grown. He rather hoped it had shrunk instead, as it was feeling very restrictive in more areas than one.

"Doctor, are you feeling yourself yet?" Jack asked.

"Who, me?" the man asked, blinking in confusion. "What am I a doctor of?"

"Jack, what's going on?" the other man asked. "You said he would be fine in a few minutes, but he has no clue, does he?"

Jack sighed. "Again, Rhys, I've only seen this once before and he was fine after a few minutes," he explained. "I guess it's different every time?"

"What's different? What happened to me?" he asked, shaking off the lingering confusion. "Who am I?"

Jack's face grew concerned. "You're the Doctor."

"Of what?" he repeated, annoyed. He looked over the various controls of the machine in front of him. He was tempted to start adjusting them.

"You're a Time Lord. The last of the Time Lords, in fact," Jack explained. "You're the master of time and space."

"Master?" he looked up and turned the word over in his mouth. It seemed familiar, somehow. Almost intimately. "Do I know a Master?"

Jack nervously glanced to his friends. "Yeah, unfortunately. He's not exactly your best friend."

The Doctor looked Jack in the eye. "Are you sure about that?" he countered, vaguely remembering an ancient face.

Jack's eyes went wide in fear. "Look, why don't you lie down a moment, get your bearings?" He motioned behind the Doctor to the divan he kept in the TARDIS control room.

As he bent to sit, there was an audible RIP! Of material.

Everyone stopped and stared at him. The next thing he knew, the trio bust our laughing.

"Shut it, the lot of you!" he growled in his newly deep voice. "You've never seen a man rip his pants before?"

"At least it wasn't another button missile," Gwen cracked.

Jack offered him a hand back up. "Come on, let's try and find the wardrobe, see if you have anything that will fit you now. The last couple faces I've seen, have been a bit more...trim," he tactfully explained.

"Was I? Why would it?" he asked. Then realized it might explain the constrictive clothes and over-tight shoes.

"Well, come on, Doc," he opened the interior door for the confused man. "You do know where the wardrobe is, right?"

The Doctor glanced down the hall. "Sure, it's right down there...I think. Somewhere near the swimming pool, I believe?" he wondered as he marched off.

Half an hour of trying different doors in various corridors proved useless. The Doctor had long since kicked off his now too small shoes and waltzed the halls in his socks, newly widened feet plodding along. He opened another door and saw someone staring back at him he didn't recognize.

"Oi! You! Where are we?" he called out. Then he realized he was looking in a mirror as the interior light finally kicked on with his entrance. He slowly walked up to it, examining the pudgy, rubbery face before him. He seemed to recall being younger in appearance. Not so this time. It was...experienced. Not quite old, but past the obvious prime of youth. He poked and prodded a face that was broad, with thick eyebrows, puggish nose, full cheeks, and cobalt blue eyes. His body showed his age as well, having broad, strong shoulders over a healthy belly. At least this body seemed to be stronger than what he vaguely remembered as he began to shed his restrictive clothes and felt his thick arms. He chuckled as he ran his hands through the mat of orange chest hair.

It was only then he realized what he had been missing. "Bloody hell! It's about time!" he laughed, running his fingers through the long, loose ginger hair on his head with a hint of curl in it. It was just long enough to be in need of a decent trim when mussed, but looked presentable when he brushed it back. He noticed his ears were a bit largish, almost too large, he mused. "Not too bad. Slightly thinning. Probably a bald spot in back, too," he groused.

"Doctor!" Jack shouted, bursting in the room. "What's wrong?" he panted.

"Wrong? Wrong?" he asked in return. "Nothing! There's absolutely nothing bloody wrong this time!" he laughed. "Well, maybe a bit younger, but what can you do, eh?"

Jack walked up behind the half-clothed man admiring his new physique in the mirror. "Looks good to me," he said slyly.

The Doctor turned and smiled at his immortal friend. "You'd love a bit of this, wouldn't you, Jack?" he teased.

Jack grinned in response, but suddenly found himself being kissed hard by the burly man. He broke the kiss and slapped Jack's cheek, then grinned, "Keep dreaming, Harkness."

"You love it," Jack replied. He then glanced down and smirked. "You really loved it."

"Hm?" the Doctor asked and looked down to see what Jack was looking at. "Oh! Well, would you look at that?" he chuckled as he realized the seams of his pants were now straining for a different reason.

"I already am," Jack purred, licking his lips.

The Doctor looked back up at Jack. "Down boy. I need to find some new clothes, first." He strolled through the racks, glancing among the various accoutrements. Most of them were obviously tailored for slimmer men than his beefy frame.

"Do you need any help in there?" Jack called out.

"I don't need advice from some lothario who stopped changing his clothes decades earlier than the period he's currently hanging about in, Jack!"

"Oh come on!" Jack groaned. "This look is classic!"

"It's antique!" he countered as he flipped through another section. "Didn't I know or have any friends who were the least bit overweight?" he grumbled.

Jack entered the aisle the Doctor was going through and leaned on the rack, admiring his friend's new countenance. "You're not overweight," Jack informed him. "You're...well-fed, beefy, burly, husky, robust, furry-"

"Thick?" he groused.

"Woofilicious?" he grinned.

The Doctor frowned. "Is that even a word?"

"It is in some circles," he teased, admiring the backside of the now-hefty Time Lord.

"A-HA!" the man exclaimed, pulling out a frumpy, brown suit with a tweed jacket.

"What is it with you and brown?" Jack inquired, noting the similar fashion to his own garb. "Look at all these clothes," he waved his arms to indicate the hundreds of outfits present, "yet you keep choosing such a drab color to wear. Why is that?"

"It shows I'm grounded," the man exclaimed as he shed the rest of his seam-strained clothing, much to Jack's delight.

"Need any help with that?" Jack inquired as he watched the Doctor hopping on one foot, trying to pull his leg free from his trouser leg.

"Not hardly!" he shouted. "I've got-whoop!"

Jack caught him under his arms as he fell back. He grinned down into the frustrated man's face. "Nice one," he quipped and hoisted the man back onto his feet. The Doctor fumed as Jack knelt down and grabbed the trousers. The Doctor rolled his eyes, grasped one clothing rack for balance, and pulled his trapped leg up, allowing Jack to pull the pant leg free. Something clattered to the floor, skittering under the rack of clothing.

"What was that?" the Time Lord asked.

Jack bent and looked under the rack. "Looks long and round," he salaciously replied as he reached for it.

The now mostly naked Time Lord knelt down beside him to look for himself. Jack held up the sonic screwdriver to the man. "Look familiar?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes at Jack and took the device, examining it. "Not really," he replied and hit the thumbswitch. The blue buzzing light filled his sight. He fell back, flat on the floor.

"Doctor!" Jack exclaimed, jumping over his body to the man's head. He felt for one of the man's hearts for a beat. The redhead's bright blue eyes suddenly popped open, looked around as he tried to gather his senses, then focused on Jack. "You alright? You worried me there for a second."

"Do I look worried to you?" he replied.

Jack stayed where he was for a moment, hand resting over a heart, unsure if the Doctor had hurt himself or not. Shortest regeneration ever, he mused to himself. That rumination was cut short as the Doctor suddenly grabbed his head and kissed him again. Jack kissed him back and clenched his hand on the man's beefy pectoral before the Doctor broke free and pushed Jack off of him.

"What was that for?" Jack laughed.

"You were cramping my style," he replied gruffly, picking himself off the floor.

Jack remained kneeling at the man's feet, grinning at what lay on the other side of the thin cloth in front of him. "That answers that question," he muttered to himself as the Doctor grabbed his new trousers and fluffed them in Jack's face before stepping into them. Jack grabbed the sonic screwdriver off the floor again and held one end to his lips, seductively.

"What question is that, Jack?" he asked as he pulled up the new pants.

Jack leered as the Doctor grabbed his new shirt. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

He regarded the Time Agent coolly as he buttoned the shirt, tucked it in his pants and slipped his suspenders over his shoulders before grabbing the matching brown vest.

"That look does look good on you," Jack noted, finally rising to his feet as the Doctor zipped up and grabbed his new jacket.

"It's probably the only outfit in here that fits, Jack," he growled, as he flexed his arms, making sure the patched elbows were in good condition. "Soon as we can, we hit the shops and get me something nicer. Maybe a Sharpei wool blend or Mariposian silk? Always been a fan of this seamstress on Barcelona-"

Jack gave him a confused look. "You don't remember where we are, do you?"

"Right now, everything before I woke up is pretty much a blank," he informed his friend. He glanced around. "Shoes. I need shoes." He marched off to another area of the room.

Jack followed and saw the man had found a smaller mirror with various neckerchiefs surrounding it. "What do you think? Long tie, cravat, or something else?" he asked as he began holding up one accessory after the other.

Jack inspected the chiffarobe and pulled out a long mass of multi-colored knitted wool. "What...is this?"

The Doctor gave him an offended look. "That, my dear boy, is Classic." He then draped it around his shoulders. Several times. He frowned. "But it doesn't go with this."

"To say the least," Jack teased and grabbed a couple bow ties as the Doctor hung up his multi-hued scarf of near-infinite length. "Try these," Jack offered.

"Too much brown."

"Black doesn't go with everything."

"Electric Blue? Please, Jack." Eyes rolled.

"It brought out your eyes. Yellow?" Frown.

"Red?" They paused. "Maybe a rose or wine?"

"Bingo," he said, admiring the simple wine colored bow on his throat. "Now, shoes and a coat."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Why do you insist on a coat?"

"For the same reason you do, Jack," he chided. "To carry things in."

"I think I look more dashing," he teased.

"Where do you think you got that idea," the Time Lord teased.

Jack stopped and stared after the man. A vague memory of a day long since passed (for both of them) came to mind. "what?"

"What's the weather like outside, Jack?" he asked, perusing another closet full of various shoe styles. He hoped he had something a bit wider than those he kept in front as he held one shoe to his foot for comparison.

"Actually, it's a bit muddy, as there aren't too many roads where we're at," Jack replied.

"Boots will do for now," the man said and grabbed a pair of large black boots with a turned top cuff. He sat on the stool and slipped them on, tucking his pant legs inside. The boot cuff strained at the thickness of his calves. "Fit like a glove!" he exclaimed, then immediately rose and strode to another section full of overcoats.

Jack perused through the selection, more for himself than the Doctor.

"Ah! Here we go!" he exclaimed, pulling out an oversized duster of brown leather and slipped it on. "How do I look, Jack?" he asked, preening in yet another mirror.

"Like you're going fishing in the American Old West, Professor Pirate," Jack chuckled. "Sure you don't want a hat to finish it off?"

The Doctor charged off to yet another corner, this one piled with hats. "Straw? No. Floppy? No. Derby? No. Hunting? No. Pith helmet?"

"Doc, if you're done?" Jack interrupted, trying not to laugh as the man went through the stacks of hats. "I'm sure William has long since lost patience waiting on us."

The Doctor turned and popped a top hat at his friend. "William?" he asked. "The burly bloke the lady was hanging on?"

"No, the Crown Prince of Albion," Jack reminded him. "The First King of the Third Millennium? He helped Rhys and I drag your dying self back into the TARDIS before you regenerated?"

The Doctor stared at him a moment. "Oi! Ginger King Will?" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you say so?" he chided and ran toward the door, Jack grabbing the deerstalker cap off his head as he went.

At the door, he suddenly stopped. "The Ginger King, the fat man, and you were the last to touch me before I regenerated?" he asked. "What about the girl?"

"Except for Gwen, the four of us carried you back. Why?"

The Doctor held out his arms. "Look at me! I'm ginger, I'm fat, and for some reason, I've kissed you three times just in this room already!" he exclaimed. "You don't find that odd?"

Jack looked at him, in confusion. "Three? Are you counting that time I-"

The Doctor kissed him again, pinning Jack back against the wall for a long moment. "Three," he grunted, lustily.

A breathless Jack had to admit he might have a point as he tried to pull the Doctor closer. "Maybe once your regeneration settles in, you won't be so snogging impulsive?" he suggested, but hoped it wasn't so as the man broke free of his embrace. "Or impulsively snogging?"

The Doctor smiled and backed out of the room, turning and heading back the way they had come. "So where was he?"

"Who?"

"Prince William. Where was he?" he repeated. "I don't recall seeing him in the control room when I woke up."

"Standing guard outside with Markham, making sure no one came in," Jack told him.

"Why? Where did I park this time?" he asked.

"Oh, just smack dab in the middle of his castle's hunting forest," Jack replied. "Hence all the mud."

"Windsor Castle has a hunting preserve?"

"Not quite," Jack answered. "Seems we're in a slightly different reality than the one we remember. It's Wyndham Castle, here."

"Really?" he asked, plodding along as he neared the control room. When he realized Jack didn't answer, he turned to find the man with his ear pinned to a door. "Jack?"

"Shh!" he hissed and waved him over. He was evidently listening to something in the room and a mischievous smile spread across his face.

The Doctor pressed his large ear to the door almost nose to nose with Jack. The sounds coming from the room were unmistakable. He pulled the door open and charged inside, ignoring Jack's protests.

Rhys and Gwen yelped in surprise at the intrusion and tried to cover themselves up with the bedding.

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed. "Can't leave you two alone for a bloody minute, can I?"

Jack stifled a guffaw (while taking full note of his friends' nudity) as Rhys fumbled an explanation, while Gwen merely tried to hide under her husband.

"You know, this bedroom was reserved for Very Important Guests Only, I'll have you know!" the Doctor explained. He fought the sudden, passing impulse to join them both. Damn you, Jack, he cursed to himself.

"Sorry! Sorry! So very sorry!" Rhys mumbled as he tried to keep his wife covered while reaching for their clothes. Jack stepped over and handed the embarrassed man his jeans off the floor. He shot Jack a dirty look of warning.

"If you aren't dressed and in the control room in two minutes, I'm locking the lot of you up in here!" he exclaimed before turning and heading out the door.

Jack smiled and looked at the couple. He wiggled an eyebrow.

"OUT!" Gwen screamed. Jack followed the Doctor, chuckling.

When the pair had finally joined the two men in the control room, she tried to explain. "Sorry about that. We got bored waiting and started to look for you two, worried something might have happened to you after your, er, regeneration, was it?" She paused as Jack chuckled, throwing a glance at the Doctor, who ignored him. He stood there, arms crossed as she continued. "We found the bedroom and, well, thought we would have a quick lie down while we were waiting which turned into talking and, well-"

"We didn't mean to offend, you, honest," Rhys added.

"What about Prince William?" the Doctor asked.

The couple stared at him, confused.

"Has he been waiting for us outside all this time?"

"Oh lord, we forgot all about him!" Rhys exclaimed. He ran for the TARDIS' entry door. "Your Highness! Your Highness!"

The Doctor and Jack followed him out. Gwen rolled her eyes and gave chase. The Doctor noticed the TARDIS had landed in a small clearing along a dirt path cutting through some woods. A vaguely familiar structure could be seen in the distance.

A red-haired man with broad shoulders who appeared in his mid to late 20s leaned against a nearby tree, looking slightly bored, holding a crossbolt. A forty-ish, burly man with short, dark hair and beard and slightly muddied clothing of a simpler time stood at his side with a bayonet in one hand, another crossbolt slung across his back. He stood at attention as the quartet exited the out of place police cubicle.

"We're so sorry, Your Highness!" Rhys exclaimed as he ran up to the duo. "We forgot all about you!"

"Sire?" the bearded man asked, hand reaching for the holster on his hip with one hand as the other drew up the bayonet.

The younger man ordered him to stand down with a simple gesture. "It's alright, Will. These are our friends." He then took note of the Doctor's new appearance. "I think? Rhys, Gwen, Jack," he greeted, then nodded to the stranger, "and who is your new friend?"

"I'm the Doctor," he harrumphed. The prince didn't quite look like the young man he expected, he looked suspiciously more like another who once traveled with him, many years ago. There weren't very fond memories (or many at all, at the moment) of Turlough, but he recalled the man had been used as a pawn in a cosmic chess game. Maybe it was just the hair, he wondered?

The two local men exchanged a look, studying each other. "I'm sorry?" the Prince replied in confusion. "The Doctor my friends here entered that box with looked nothing like-"

Markham cut in, "Pompous, wild eyes-" He seemed unnerved.

The Doctor held up his hands. "Yes, yes, I know. I apparently had to regenerate due to some injury that befell me?" He raised an eyebrow, hoping the Crown Prince could fill him in. Then he turned to Markham, "Pompous? Wild eyes? Me?"

The burly man looked embarrassed and blushed slightly, shuffling the rifle behind him in a poor attempt to hide it. "My fault, I'm afraid. We were a bit on edge and didn't realize at the time you lot might be speaking true in helping to rescue him from his kidnappers, and then, well, your friend Jack, here, convinced me otherwise," he hastily explained, unsure of himself, while sharing a slightly pained glance at Harkness. "My apologies, Doctor. It was an accident, honest."

The Doctor eyed the bearded man and nodded as he once again fought a passing urge to hug the two men tight as a way of showing forgiveness, especially Markham. He hoped again Jack was right and his influence on this regeneration would quickly pass. He was glad when the prince broke the awkward moment he felt was happening.

"If you please, Markham," William spoke up. "Jack said they could heal your wound inside of there, but we didn't expect...this?" he motioned to the man's new appearance. "My mother will not be pleased at such an abrupt change. Our healers could-"

"Your mother's still alive?" the Doctor blurted, confused.

Prince William was taken aback. "Of course she is! Why would you think any different, especially after-"

Jack cut him off. "I'm sorry, your Highness. Regeneration apparently leaves him a bit...off. He's still catching up a bit," he explained. "Besides, as I told you before, events seem to have transpired here somewhat different than what we remember in our time."

"Ah yes, this parallel timeline you spoke of," William replied. "We can discuss this further on the ride back to the Castle proper." He motioned to Markham, who pushed his sleeve up and tapped a few buttons on a device similar to Jack's wristband. "You can apologize to my mother in person, Doctor," he quipped.

"Oh bloody hell," the Doctor muttered, then noticed a carriage round a copse of trees of it's own volition. "Fascinating," he said in awe.

The Del Aurian carriage pulled to a stop beside the assembled group. It appeared to the group as a classically ornate styled horse-drawn carriage, with the exception that there were no horses to draw it. Markham opened the door and pulled out the steps for his liege, took the younger man's weapon, then gave him and Gwen a hand into the cab. The Doctor looked over the contraption, seeing no immediate signs of an engine. Markham merely held the door for Rhys, the two men exchanging defiant glares, before motioning to the Doctor. "Up and in, sir," he urged.

The Doctor followed the others into the cab and found it slightly roomier than he expected, even with Rhys and his own new, stockier body. However, it could still only comfortably seat four. Rhys and Gwen had cuddled up on one seat, leaving the Doctor to sit opposite with the Prince. He glanced out and saw Jack clamber up onto the perch as Markham closed the door.

Markham followed Jack up onto the front after handing him the weapons. Once there, he holstered his rifle and the two crossbolts in a top hatch. Jack watched as he pressed a code in his armband so the two control arms would telescope out of the armrests. The carriage suddenly lurched forward.

Prince William rolled his eyes. "He's always taking off too fast, lately," he apologized.

"Pardon me for asking, but where's the engine?" The Doctor inquired.

The Prince tapped the floorboard with his toe. "Fuel cells and controls underneath. The main steering controls are up front with Will and Jack, propulsion below us. Based on the technology created by a Serbian who went by the name of Nikola Tesla."

"Ah, I see," he lied before musing, "Good old Nikola, eh? Finally got his due in one universe." He would have to examine the tech further later. The remnant of an old Earth saying popped into his head, 'Science, if advanced enough, would appear as magic to the common man.' At least, he thought that was the quote. He often had to paraphrase it to newcomers in the TARDIS, usually opting for "It's bigger on the inside" line to explain the tesseract qualities.

"You know of Tesla, my friends?" the prince inquired.

"The band?" Rhys asked, only to get jabbed by Gwen.

"Rhys!" she hissed, then turned to their benefactor. "Only by reputation as a competitor to Edison, I'm afraid."

"He was quite the mad genius," the Doctor informed them. "Unfortunately, the poor Croatian never got the proper respect or credit he deserved in their world," he said, jerking a thumb to the couple. "The governments locked up his notebooks and inventions when he died. Took teams of scientists to decipher and reverse engineer most of his stuff. What they could of it, anyways."

"I see," the prince acknowledged. "That certainly wasn't the case here. He is widely heralded as the father of the modern technological age. He and his protégé, Einstein."

"Protégé?" Gwen sputtered, but the Doctor cautioned her not to say anything further with a quick motion of his hand.

"Good for him," the Doctor replied, already suspecting that was one variable they had to overcome in their present situation. "Do you think Jack minds being up front with Markham?" he asked casually, changing the subject.

The trio suppressed their shared amusement. Not sharing what had happened between the two earlier.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he doesn't mind," the prince assured him. "I bet he's quite enjoying the view, mind you," he said with a wink to the couple. Almost in reply, they could hear chuckles coming from the front of the cab. (Jack was attempting to get a feel of the now-protruded co-pilot controls "just in case", he quipped, one hand on his control, the other over Markham's hand on his control.) The Doctor rolled his eyes and hoped Jack wasn't being too improper, considering the stature of their host.

"Your Markham said we saved you from a kidnapping?" the Doctor asked, hoping to change the subject again.

"Yes, it's the old story of some wayward royal cousin wanting the Throne for himself," he explained, "including having a double at the ready to switch me off with before they officially hand off the Crown at my Coronation."

"So it's your father who passed in this world, then?" the Doctor asked. "Shame. I quite liked Charles. Knew he'd never ascend the throne and all, but quite an intelligent conversationalist and all," he reminisced.

"Well, someone's getting his memory back," Gwen noted. "Too bad you forgot we're not on our world."

"My father is alive and well," William informed him. "He just happens to be out of the country at the moment. Also, how do you know his name is not Charles?"

The Doctor blushed slightly at the mistake. "My apologies, young prince," he said, then saw they were approaching a familiar castle, even if the land around it was not the modern city he had been expecting. Just go with the flow again, he scolded himself. "I merely assumed that since you said there was a plot to replace you prior to your coronation, that your father had recently passed?"

The carriage came to a halt. A blonde woman in a fashionable modern-cut dress strode up to the vehicle, obviously upset. She looked vaguely familiar to the Time Lord.

"I'd love to chat more, comparing the differences between our worlds, but it looks like my mother wants a word with all of us," the young man said, wincing at the determined look on the woman's face.

Before Markham and Jack could dismount, she had already opened the door and stuck her head inside. "You!" she exclaimed, eyeballing the Doctor as if he looked the same as earlier. "You've got a lot of nerve endangering my child and the future King of Albion like this!"

Despite his newfound larger size, the Doctor suddenly felt two inches tall being scolded like this. He quite liked her for a picosecond, then he realized who she reminded him of: "Jackie Tyler?" he asked under his now terrified breath.

"Doctor, meet my mother, The Lady Miranda Greene-Jones," the young man said.

"Blimey!"

A/N: If you haven't figured it out, this incarnation happens to bear more than a fair resemblance to a 40s-ish Brendan Gleeson (circa Lake Placid to Wild About Harry/GoNY), and his initial look borrows somewhat from Mad Eye Moody. Don't worry, he'll change soon enough. Clothes, that is.

FYI: I wrote the first several chapters **before** I knew what Matt Smith would be wearing as 11, btw. HONEST!

(Now off to play those lottery numbers, 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42...)

Yes, this is also a nod to another of Camille's roles, Miranda Green, albeit this is obviously set in another dimension entirely. You'll see more of the differences in the next chapter. As for her husband? We'll get to him in due time.

(disclaimer: I don't own those characters either!)

Prince William's aide-de-camp/protector, Will Markham, is loosely based on Mark Addy, circa Knight's Tale or The Order in appearance (re: beard). His style of dress would be more in line with The Time Machine, however.

And the Prince is NOT the Real Life William of Windsor, they just happen to share a first name and hair color. I do have someone in mind for him, but I won't reveal who just yet. SPOILERS!

Tbc...