The Lost Girl Chronicles Book 3: Like Pieces of a Puzzle

by frosty600

For Sophie it continued with an unexpected trip to the moon, meeting a possible new friend in Martha Jones, and a realisation that left her reeling. For the Doctor it continued with a kiss, the promise of a single trip and the intense determination to make an enigma he called Sparks realise just how much she meant to him.

2. Chapter 2 The Shakespeare Code

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Just Sophie my o/c.

A/N: First off, a big thank you to everyone who followed/favourited and reviewed last chapter. And another to Saberbladeprime for prereading for me. Secondly, I'm really sorry for the wait for this chapter. I got a little busy and then some parts proved a little difficult to fit Sophie into, that being said, I hope you all enjoy the chapter.

CHAPTER 2

The Shakespeare Code

"This is normal?!" Martha shouted the question with alarm as the Tardis suddenly started jolting about rather sharply, her hands tightening about the console she was already clinging to for dear life.

"Uh, fairly normal, yeah!" Sophie called back, clinging to the console a bit tighter as another jolt rocked the Tardis precariously, and she hit a button and turned one of the glowing knobs at the Tardis' urging, before stretching an arm out to flick a switch that was almost out of reach, only just managing to flick it down, before almost being tossed to the floor as the Tardis jolted again, making her cling tightly with both hands again.

"But how do you travel in time?" Martha asked curiously as the Doctor rapidly turned a wheel as fast as he could, "What makes it go?"

"Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything," the Doctor commented as his hands moved over the console again, "Martha, you don't wanna know. It just does. Hold on tight!" he warned them as he leaned heavily against the console, practically climbing on top of it in an effort to reach a final button, smacking his hand down on it, only to go tumbling to the floor in the next instant as the Tardis jerked to a sudden halt. The abruptness of it also knocking both Sophie and Martha off their feet.

"Blimey!" Martha exclaimed a bit breathlessly as she pushed herself back up onto her feet, "Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?"

"Yes, and I failed it," the Doctor replied as he grabbed his coat, completely ignoring the incredulous look that Martha was giving him.

"The instructors apparently didn't understand his genius," Sophie added with light amusement as she fixed the ponytail she'd thrown her hair into.

"Well, they didn't," the Doctor insisted, walking over to where Martha had left her jacket along with the small bag she'd taken out with her, grabbing the jacket up, eager to get going, "Now, make the most of it," he told her as he handed her jacket to her, "I promised you one trip," he continued as he shrugged on his coat, "And one trip only," he turned, hurrying over to the doors as Martha nodded, her face falling slightly at the reminder that this was to be her one and only trip, whilst Sophie smiled at his jubilant enthusiasm, "Outside this door…" the Doctor paused in front of the doors turning back to face them. Martha grinning with excitement once more, her eyes focusing past the Time Lord to the closed doors behind him, "Brave new world."

"Where are we?" Martha asked, her voice coming out a little breathless with her excitement as she pulled her gaze from the doors to focus back on the Doctor.

"Take a look," the Doctor urged, pushing one of the doors open enticingly, "After you," he added nodding towards the open door.

Martha took a breath, steadying herself practically buzzing with her excitement, before she started forward eagerly. Sophie smiled and started forward herself, coming to a stop beside the Doctor so that Martha could be the first to see what lay beyond the doors, "Oh, you are kidding me!" Martha breathed the moment she stood in the doorway and then stepped out. Sophie glanced at the Doctor inquisitively, he met her gaze with a wink and a smile, before nodding towards the doors again, urging her ahead of him. Sophie grinned back and started forward again, the Doctor following her as Martha repeated, "You are so kidding me," Sophie stepped out and blinked at the busy bustling street glancing around at it, followed closely by the Doctor, the Time Lord pulling the door shut behind him, "Oh my God! We did it. We travelled in time," Martha exclaimed, "Where are we?" she asked with excitement, but hurried on before a reply could be made, "No, sorry. I've got to get used to this whole new language. When are we?" she adjusted her question.

A window opened above them and the Doctor looked up, "Mind out!" he called, before he simultaneously drew Sophie closer to him with one arm wrapping it around her back and pulled Martha back and out of the way with the other as a man shouted from above, "Gardez l'eau!" before emptying the contents of his slop bucket down onto the street below.

"Somewhere before the invention of the toilet," the Doctor replied to Martha's question as Sophie crinkled her nose slightly, "Sorry about that."

"That'd explain the smell," Sophie observed with a shrug as she glanced about the street the Tardis had materialised on again. The big blue box going completely unnoticed by the urchins that were walking up and down the street.

"I've seen worse," Martha waved him off unfazed by the near miss, merely glancing down at herself to make sure that it hadn't splattered onto her pants… she'd have to borrow a pair from Sophie if it had, they were roughly the same size, she was maybe a little taller, "I've worked the late night shift at A&E," she explained as the Doctor slid his arm from around Sophie's back proffering it to her instead and she placed her hand into the crook of his elbow, before starting off down the street, "But are we safe?" Martha called after them, suddenly hit by a worrying thought and they halted turning to her, "I mean, can we move around and stuff?"

"Of course we can," the Doctor replied with a nod, before he arched a quizzical brow at her, "Why do you ask?"

"It's like in the films," Martha replied, "You step on a butterfly, you change the future of the human race."

The Doctor blinked at her, "Tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies," he told her, before pinning her with a confused look, "What have butterflies ever done to you?" he asked before he turned away.

"Besides," Sophie chimed in smiling kindly at Martha, before she glanced around the street again, searching for the pretty winged insects as the Doctor started forward again, her hand still in the crook of his elbow as she moved with him, "I don't see any butterflies about," she glanced back at Martha again, "Do you?"

Well no, Martha had to agree, but that wasn't the point, not really. She moved after them, carefully hopping over the emptied contents of the slop bucket, "What if, I dunno," she continued, "What if, I kill my grandfather?"

The Doctor blinked again, Sophie's hand slipping from his elbow as he turned back around to face Martha, walking backwards as he eyed her with a slightly furrowed brow, "Are you planning to?"

Martha quirked her brows back at him, "No."

"Well, then," the Doctor nodded, glancing at Sophie as he turned back around, she quirked her lips up in a small, but amused smile and shrugged at him. He took her hand in his, thumb stroking back and forth over the back of her hand as he continued on down the bustling street.

"And this is London?" Martha asked.

"I think so," the Doctor replied airily.

"Definitely got the Old London Town look," Sophie commented as she eyed the buildings lining the street.

The Doctor nodded, "Round 1599."

"Oh, so…" Sophie glanced around once more, before she turned her excited gaze back to the Doctor, smiling brightly, "Early Elizabethan, then."

"Yep!" the Doctor agreed, returning her bright smile with one of his own.

"Oh, but hold on," Martha called, grabbing at the back of the Doctor's coat, her eyes wide with worry once more as he and Sophie turned to her again, "Am I alright? I'm not going to get carted off as a slave, am I?"

The Doctor stared at her, confused once more, "Why would they do that?"

Martha gave him a look and pointed to her dark skin, "Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed."

'Oh…' Sophie blinked she hadn't even thought of that being a possibility, "We wouldn't let them cart you off anywhere," she assured Martha.

"I'm not even human," the Doctor reminded her, "Just walk about like you own the place," he shrugged, "Works for me."

"And Martha and I, we'll be ok, in pants?" Sophie asked, glancing down at the blue denim jeans that she was wearing, recalling the incident in 1879 with a bit of a grimace.

"Oh, right," Martha blinked and glanced down at her clothes again herself, "Don't we kind of stand out?"

"Nah, this is Elizabethan England, not Victorian Era, Scotland," the Doctor replied guessing where Sophie's thoughts had gone, "You'd be surprised just how similar Elizabethan England is to your time," he added as they started walking again, "Look over there," he pointed and Sophie and Martha glanced over to see a man shovelling horse manure into a wooden bucket, "They've got recycling," they continued on further down the street, "Water cooler moment," he added as they passed two men talking by a water barrel.

Sophie let out a low amused sound as she glanced at the Doctor, his hand squeezing about hers as Martha grinned in amusement, the three of them continuing down the street to a man of the cloth that was preaching to the masses, "…And the world will be consumed by flame!" he called loudly as they passed.

"Global warming," the Doctor commented with a nod towards the preacher, before he turned towards them again, with an excited beaming grin, "Oh, yes, and… entertainment! Popular entertainment for the masses," he remarked enthusiastically as Martha pulled on her jacket, "If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark, right next to…" the Doctor tightened his hand around Sophie's before taking off at a run.

Sophie frowned a bit in thought as the three of them ran down the London street, pondering on just where the Doctor was taking them to, her eyes widening as they rounded a corner and her eyes locked on a large building as they came to a stop, "Oh no…" she breathed lowly in dawning realisation of just what the Doctor was intending.

"Oh yes," the Doctor rebutted as he grinned exuberantly, "The Globe Theatre! Brand new. Just opened," he continued on with excitement as Sophie pulled her eyes from the Globe Theatre to level an unimpressed look on him, "Though, strictly speaking, it's not a globe; it's a tetradecagon, fourteen sides, containing the man himself."

Sophie grimaced, "I knew it," she bemoaned and the Doctor shot her a slightly sheepish but mostly cheeky grin, hand squeezing about hers again.

"Whoa," Martha turned to him with excitement, eyes shining with it as she grinned at the pair she was with, "You don't mean… is Shakespeare in there?"

"Oh yes," the Doctor grinned turning his head to look at Martha, before he looked back at Sophie who was standing on his other side, with a far more jubous expression as she looked at the Globe Theatre once more, "Come on, Sparks," he cajoled with another grin.

"You never give up, do you?" Sophie huffed lowly, exasperated, as she turned her gaze back to him, brow scrunching as she eyed him.

"I take it you don't like Shakespeare?" Martha queried as she looked around the Doctor to see Sophie.

Sophie turned her gaze from the Time Lord to Martha, "Not particularly fond of his work, no," she admitted with a bit of a shrug.

"Despite my best efforts," the Doctor lamented with a sigh, before he brightened again, "It'll be fun!" he promised Sophie with a wide winning grin, "And if after this you still don't like Shakespeare, I'll stop bothering you about it," he wheedled, "So, what do you say, Miss Connolly, Miss Jones," he held out his arms, "Will you accompany me to the theatre?"

"Yes, Mr. Smith, I will," Martha grinned excitedly as she linked her arm through his proffered right arm.

"Was never planning on doing anything else," Sophie informed him with a cheeky grin, blue eyes alight with amusement and a touch of mischief as she regarded him, "But all the same," she linked her arm through his proffered left arm, "I'll hold you to your promise."

The Doctor blinked at her his eyes widening comically, "Oh, that's hardly fair," he bemoaned as both women laughed. She'd got him… she'd really got him. He eyed Sophie's amused expression as the three of them started off down the street together, he couldn't even tell if she'd done that intentionally or not, "Cheeky," he murmured and then grinned as she shrugged at him lightly, smile still quirking up her lips, before shaking his head in amusement, "When you get home," he turned to Martha still grinning, "You can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare."

"Then I could get sectioned!" Martha replied drolly.

*O*O*O*

The trio stood in the pit amongst the common folk of the packed Globe Theatre applauding with the rest of crowd as the actors came up to take their final bows.

"That was amazing!" Martha exclaimed as she continued to clap enthusiastically, "Just amazing! It's worth putting up with the smell."

Sophie nodded enthusiastically, "Absolutely brilliant!" she agreed as she too continued to clap with enthusiasm.

The Doctor, who was standing between them, grinned rather smugly as he turned his head to look at her, "So, you liked it then?"

"Ah, hush!" Sophie huffed at him with an irrepressible smile, cheeks flushing a light pink, "Just cos I'm not a fan and find the language frustrating to decipher and irritatingly confusing," she continued over the noise of the applause and the cheering audience, "Doesn't mean, I can't enjoy a brilliant performance."

"If ya say so, Sparks," the Doctor replied lightly, though the smug smirk that was still quirking up his lips had Sophie rolling her eyes at him.

"Foxy Git," she muttered.

"Your Foxy Git though," the Doctor commented lightly and Sophie felt herself flush a little deeper, her smile turning a little shy as a pleased warmth filled her and the Doctor's smirk grew a little more pronounced. He loved how easily he could get her to blush. In fact, he'd probably be sad if she ever stopped blushing so easily.

"And those are men dressed as women, yeah?" Martha asked as the two of them returned their attention back to the bowing actors.

"Yep," Sophie replied with a nod, the red flush slowly receding from her cheeks.

"London never changes," the Doctor remarked with a grin.

"Where's Shakespeare?" Martha asked them, "I wanna see Shakespeare. Author! Author!" she started to chant pumping her fist into the air, before she hesitated and turned to them again, "Do people shout that? Do they shout 'Author'?"

"Author!" A man in the crowd standing by Martha picked up the chant, "Author!" he cried again and it soon spread through the packed Theatre.

"Well…" the Doctor began as he looked around at the chanting crowd, "They do now."

"I think you just coined a new phrase," Sophie called over to Martha with a grin, or at least she thought that was what you'd call it.

"Created a new thing," the Doctor agreed as Martha grinned back at Sophie, before their attention was returned to the stage as Shakespeare sauntered out onto the stage, taking an exaggerated bow before the crowd, before blowing kisses into the crowd that was now clapping and cheering harder in delight.

"He's a bit different to his portraits," Martha commented as she eyed Shakespeare as he continued to blow kisses into the cheering crowd.

"He looked older in his portrait," Sophie mused in agreement.

Martha nodded in agreement, before adding with an appreciative smirk, her eyes still locked on Shakespeare, "And less dashing."

Sophie shrugged at that, her eyes drifting from the stage to the Doctor, his eyes landing on her a moment later. He winked at her with that foxy smirk of his curving up his lips and she found herself blushing all over again at the warmth in his eyes as she smiled, wondering briefly if her eyes where sparkling again as he claimed. Which of course, they were. He took her hand in his and interlaced their fingers as their eyes returned to the stage and Shakespeare who was still exulting in the crowd's accolade.

*O*O*O*

In one of the upper boxes overlooking the stage, a young woman who'd taken the name Lilith, sat in aristocratic finery. Alone in the box, she reached into her small pouch and pulled out a small doll, a tuft of hair sticking out from its head.

*O*O*O*

"Genius," the Doctor murmured to them with excitement, "He's a genius. The genius. The most human Human that's ever been. Now we're gonna hear him speak. Always he chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words."

"Ah, shut your big fat mouths!" Shakespeare called and the crowd broke into laughter as the Doctor's face fell with disappointment.

"Oh, well," he muttered.

"Not exactly the opening line I expected to hear," Sophie mused.

"No," the Doctor lamented mournfully and felt Sophie pat his arm sympathetically with her free hand. He glanced at her and pouted at the rather amused grin that she was trying and failing to suppress. He reached up with his free hand and gently bopped her on the nose with a finger and a soft helplessly amused giggle escaped her. The Doctor's lips quirked up fondly and he squeezed their clasped hands, the petite brunette returning the gesture an instant later.

"You should never meet your heroes," Martha commented, smiling in amusement herself as she glanced at the two of them.

"You've got excellent taste, I'll give you that," Shakespeare spoke again before pointing to a man in the crowd, "Oh, that's a wig!"

*O*O*O*

Lilith twirled her hand around the tuft of hair on the doll, watching Shakespeare intently, "Wind the craft of ancient harm," she chanted, "The time approaches for our charm."

*O*O*O*

"I know what you're all saying," Shakespeare continued, "'Love Labour's Lost', that's a funny ending, isn't it? It just stops! Will the boys get the girls? Well, don't get your hose in a tangle, you'll find out soon. Yeah, yeah. All in good time. You don't rush a genius," he bowed.

*O*O*O*

Lilith brought her doll to her lips and gave it a kiss, watching in delight as Shakespeare jerked upright in response.

*O*O*O*

"When?" Shakespeare questioned, staring almost as if a little dazed, "Tomorrow night," the cast looked at him stunned, whilst the audience cheered in delight, "The premiere of my brand new play. A sequel, no less and I call it 'Loves Labour's Won'!"

His proclamation was met by rapturous applause by the audience. The Doctor and Sophie stood quietly. The petite brunette glanced at the Doctor, brow scrunched slightly, that had seemed a little odd to her.

*O*O*O*

"I'm not an expert," Martha murmured as the three of them filed out of the Theatre with the rest of the audience, "But I've never heard of 'Loves Labour's Won'."

Sophie shook her head, the bells in her ears chiming softly with the action, "Can't say I have either," and she really wasn't an expert, "Though I think," she murmured pensively, "One of my English teachers mentioned something about a rumoured lost play."

"Exactly," the Doctor nodded, "It's the lost play. It doesn't exist, only in rumours. It's mentioned in lists of his plays, but never ever turns up. And no one knows why."

"Have you got a mini-disc or something?" Martha asked, "We could tape it. We can flog it. Sell it when we get home and make a mint."

The Doctor levelled a look at her, "No."

"That would be bad," Martha nodded.

"Very," Sophie agreed.

"Yeah, yeah," the Doctor nodded himself, glancing away again as the three of them continued to file along with the crowd.

"Well, how come it disappeared in the first place?" Martha asked curiously.

"It's a mystery," Sophie murmured, glancing at the Doctor.

The Time Lord turned his head to stare at the two of them, "Well, I was just going to give Martha a quick little trip in the Tardis," the Doctor hedged and Sophie quirked her brows up at him, lips curving into a small somewhat knowing smile as Martha stared at him, breath baited with excitement and eyes all so hopeful. And he was rather curious himself, "But I suppose we could stay a bit longer."

*O*O*O*

In his room at the Elephant Inn, Shakespeare sat at a table with two members of the cast, the three talking together as a maid quietly swept at the floor a short distance away, "Here ya go, Will," a blond barmaid stepped into the room with a grin, a tray in her hands, approaching the table, "Drink up," she urged brightly as she served them, "There's enough beer in this lodgings house to sink the Spanish."

"Dolly Bailey, you've saved my life," Shakespeare smiled appreciatively and raised his tankard in a silent toast to her.

"I'll do more than that later," Dolly assured flirtatiously with a suggestive wink and a sultry grin, before she turned her gaze landing on the young maid that was still quietly sweeping the floor by the door, "And you, girl, hurry up with your tasks," she ordered, "The talk of gentlemen is best not overheard."

"Yes ma'am," the maid nodded meekly, "Sorry ma'am," she added as she swept her broom across the floor faster, glancing back at Dolly and the three gentlemen at the table as the woman turned her attention from her, listening intently.

"You must be mad, Will," one of the men sitting with Shakespeare declared shaking his head, "Loves Labour's Won? I mean, we're not ready," he protested, "It's supposed to be next week. What made you say that?"

"You haven't even finished it yet," the other man murmured in agreement with the first, eyeing Shakespeare with a dubious frown.

"I've just got the final scene to go," Shakespeare waved off their concerns, honestly not sure himself why he'd said it, "You'll get it by morning," he assured.

"Hello!" the Doctor called cheerily as he appeared in the open doorway with a knock, drawing their attention, "Excuse me, not interrupting, am I?" he asked with a grin as he stepped in, not bothering to wait for an invitation, "Mr. Shakespeare, isn't it?"

"Oh, no, no. No, no, no," Shakespeare huffed with exasperation, slumping back into his chair, "Who let you in?" he groaned as Sophie stepped into the room, Martha lingering a bit behind the two feeling a tiny bit nervous about actually meeting Shakespeare, "No autographs. No, you can't have yourself sketched with me. And please, don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove…" he trailed as he turned his gaze back to the man and Sophie blinked as his eyes came to rest on her, before glancing over to rest on Martha who'd peeked out from behind the Doctor and Sophie to peer into the room, "Hey, nonny nonny," he breathed eyes locked on Martha, previous irritation forgotten in the blink of an eye, "Sit down right next to me," he urged the dark beauty, before he turned his attention briefly back to the two men he was seated with as the Doctor, Sophie and Martha stepped a bit further into the room, "You two get sewing on them costumes. Off you go."

"Come on, lads," Dolly grinned a laugh escaping her as she eyed Shakespeare's face, "I think our William's found his new muse."

"Sweet ladies," Shakespeare continued as he gazed at the two beautiful young women once more, ignoring the others as the two men got up from their chairs as they and Dolly started for the door, as he swept his eyes over them, "Such unusual clothes," he commented as Martha sat down in the chair closest to him, "So… fitted," he murmured with appreciation.

Sophie glanced down at the simple red shirt she was wearing under her warm leather jacket, before drawing the edges closer around her, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable, and the Doctor who'd shrugged off his coat and was sitting in a chair next to Sophie, shifted it closer and took her hand pointedly in his, thumb stroking over the back of her gloved appendage as he levelled a cool look on Shakespeare, something the man took note of, before his gaze slid back to the woman sitting in the chair next to him, hardly fazed at all by the nonverbal rebuffs he'd received, he was far more interested in this wonderous dark beauty.

"Um, verily, forsooth, egads," Martha tried, attempting to speak in the language of the times.

"No, no, don't do that," the Doctor muttered quickly and Martha glanced at him, "Don't," he insisted as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his psychic paper, flipping it open as he held it out towards Shakespeare, "I'm Sir Doctor of Tardis and this is my beautiful spark," Sophie felt herself flush, teeth sinking into her lower lip as her lips curved into an irrepressible smile as she glanced at her Foxy Git, who smiled at her fondly as he continued with his introduction, "Dame Sophie Connolly of the Powell Estate," he turned his gaze to Martha, indicating her with a nod, "And our companion, Miss Martha Jones."

"Interesting," Shakespeare mused as he stared at the paper being held out to him, "That bit of paper. It's blank."

"Oh, that's… very clever," the Doctor murmured impressed as he pulled back the psychic paper looking at it, "That proves it," he grinned, "Absolute genius."

Martha leaned across the table peering at the paper curiously and blinked, "No," she refuted with a smile, "It says so right there. Sir Doctor, Dame Sophie Connolly, Martha Jones. It says so."

"And I say it's blank," Shakespeare disagreed lightly.

"Psychic paper," the Doctor said in explanation as Martha glanced at them in confusion, only for the woman to raise her brows questioningly, "Um, long story," he muttered scratching at his ear, "Oh, I hate starting from scratch," he huffed lowly as he slipped the black wallet back into a one of his pockets.

Sophie blinked and shot the Doctor a confused look, he'd explained it easily enough to her and Rose back when he'd first whipped it out in front of them and used it as an invitation, and she didn't recall it being all that long of an explanation either. She glanced at Martha, who looked a bit disappointed with the answer.

"Psychic?" Shakespeare murmured musingly.

"Tell you later?" Sophie offered quietly and Martha shot her a grateful smile, whilst the Doctor glanced at the two of them with a blink, had he been unintentionally rude again? He just hadn't felt like explaining… not when Martha would only be around for this one trip… she wouldn't really need to know.

"Never heard that before and words are my trade," Shakespeare eyed the Doctor, "Who are you exactly?" he questioned before his gaze slid to Sophie and Martha once more, "And with such jewels at your side. More's the point," he focused on the jewel closest to him and yet still seated far too far from him in his opinion, "Who is your delicious blackamoor lady?"

"What did you say?" Martha asked shocked, her brows raised, not entirely sure if she should be offended or not, whilst Sophie's brow furrowed and the Doctor slumped a bit in his chair with a quiet sigh.

"Oops. Isn't that a word we use nowadays?" Shakespeare asked, "An Ethiop girl?" he tried and Martha's lips pursed slightly as he carried on, whilst Sophie arched an incredulous brow and the Doctor let out a quiet groan as he eyed them. He could see things getting out of hand. He really could, "A swarth? A Queen of Afric?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Martha exclaimed with annoyance, much to Shakespeare's surprise and he blinked at her.

Sophie shook her head, bells chiming softly as she tugged at the ends of her hair, "1599," she muttered, before glancing at Martha again with a small grimace, "He's not trying to be rude. Not deliberately anyway."

"It's political correctness gone mad," the Doctor muttered in agreement as he rubbed at his eye with a bit of a grimace, "Um, Martha's from a far-off land. Freedonia," and Shakespeare smirked at him, before his gaze returned to Martha.

'Your ability to name things never ceases to amaze me,' Sophie projected sarcastically.

'I am rather brilliant at it, aren't I?' the Doctor responded completely ignoring her sarcasm and Sophie rolled her eyes as he grinned.

"Excuse me!" A man called and the Doctor, Sophie and Martha who had their backs to the door turned to see an older gentleman dressed in expensive black clothes and wearing the gold chain of his office standing in the doorway, "Hold hard a moment. This is abominable behaviour. A new play with no warning?" he glowered, stepping further into the room, approaching the table, "I demand to see a script, Mr. Shakespeare. As Master of Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."

"Tomorrow morning, first thing," Shakespeare replied, "I'll send it round."

"I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine," the man informed Shakespeare with increasing irritation, "The script, now!" he demanded.

"I can't," Shakespeare replied simply, looking at the man calmly as he leaned back in his chair.

"Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled," the man sneered scornfully and the maid who'd quietly remained, lingering in the room unobtrusively, just as quietly slipped out the open doorway.

"It's all go around here, isn't it?" Martha commented and Sophie nodded in agreement as the man turned, starting towards the door.

"I'm returning to my office for a banning order," he stated matter-of-factly, stopping in the doorway to pin Shakespeare with a hard look, "If it's the last thing I do, 'Love's Labours Won' will never be played," he declared, before turning on his heel and marching out of the room and back down the stairs out of the Inn to the courtyard and right into the young maid that had been in Shakespeare's room.

"Oh, sorry, sir," Lilith murmured, peeking up at him from under her lashes as she smiled coyly, "Begging your pardon, sir. Mind you don't hurt that handsome head of yours," she continued, reaching up, stroking her hand over his hair.

"Hold hard wanton woman!" he exclaimed reprovingly, before he murmured in a much quieter voice, "I shall return later," he promised with a smirk, before sauntering off. Lilith watched him go a moment, a lock of his hair in hand.

She turned and dashed back towards the Inn, running up a landing and tucking herself into a quiet corner, before pulling out the doll with a tuft of hair, "Oh, my mothers, there's one seeks to stop the performance tomorrow," she muttered with quiet urgency.

*O*O*O*

"But it must be tomorrow!" Doomfinger exclaimed as she and Bloodtide stood at a cauldron, its contents bubbling.

"Love's Labours Won must be performed!" Bloodtide decreed.

*O*O*O*

"Fear not," Lilith replied as she wrapped the new hair she'd procured around the doll, "Chant with me. Water damps the fiercest flame… drowns girls and boys the same," the voices of Doomfinger and Bloodtide joined hers.

Lilith submerged the doll into a pail of water and the man who was walking along the street heading back to his office as he'd promised Shakespeare, suddenly started to choke, his hands going first to his throat and then to mouth as he swayed.

*O*O*O*

The Doctor, Sophie, Martha and Shakespeare sat in silence, fresh tankards of beer in front of them, the barmaid Dolly having brought up a fresh round for them shortly after the man, Lynley, Shakespeare had told them, had stormed out. The Doctor sat pensively, his tankard of beer sitting practically untouched on the table in front him, a hand resting on the table near it. Whilst Sophie idly traced her gloved fingers up and down over the handle of her own tankard, undecided if she liked the flavour of the beer enough to drink anymore of it.

Martha grimaced mildly as she swallowed another mouthful of her own, "Well then…" she murmured breaking the brief silence that had fallen over them as she set her tankard down again, glancing over at Sophie and the Doctor, "Mystery solved," she sighed, unable to help the creeping sensation of disappointment that it was over and that she'd soon be taken home, "That's 'Love's Labours Won' over and done with. Thought it might be something, you know…" she shrugged, "More mysterious."

A man's scream suddenly rent the air and their gazes shot to the window in the direction it had come from. The sound was soon followed by a woman's and the four were up out of their chairs and running for the door. They made it out into the Inn's courtyard as the man, Lynley stumbled back in from the street, copious amounts of water spilling from his mouth as he clutched at his throat. The four coming to a sudden stop at the sight of him, eyes widening in alarm for the man, "It's that Lynley bloke," Martha murmured.

"What's wrong with him?" the Doctor questioned frowning as more water gushed from Lynley's mouth.

"Where's all the water coming from?" Sophie muttered, her brow furrowing with concern as more water came from Lynley's mouth, splattering to the ground at his feet.

"Leave it to me," the Doctor called to the anxiously watching crowd that had been drawn out of the Inn by the noise, "I'm a Doctor," he finished as he ran towards the man.

"So am I," Martha added as she followed closely on his heels, "Near enough," she muttered as Sophie hurried forward too as Martha swiftly took a position on Lynley's other side trying to help the Doctor support him as he continued to choke, more water spilling from his mouth. Shakespeare who'd hurried after them himself shot Martha a brief curious look.

*O*O*O*

Lilith took the doll from the water, "Now to halt the vital part," she chanted quietly, the voices of mothers Doomfinger and Bloodtide mingling with hers, "Stab the flesh and stop the heart," she stabbed the doll with a large pin, "Eternal sleep is thine," she whispered, before tearing the dolls head from its body.

*O*O*O*

Lynley collapsed and the Doctor and Martha lowered him to the ground, before the Time Lord stood once more and ran towards the street Lynley had stumbled in from, glancing about the night, brow furrowed. Sophie glanced after him, before returning anxious eyes to Martha as she pressed an ear to Lynley's chest listening for a heartbeat and checking for breathing, "Gotta get the heart going," Martha muttered as she sat up a bit, "Mr. Lynley, c'mon, can you hear me? You're gonna be alright," she started to clear his airways, preparing to give him mouth to mouth, when more water gushed out of his mouth making her pull back, "What the hell is that?"

"Water," Sophie muttered in response, crouching down by Martha as she glanced at her, the Doctor dashing back over to them, her brow still furrowed, "It's more water."

"I've never seen a death like it," the Doctor muttered as he kneeled down by the body, "His lungs are full of water, he drowned and then…" he trailed frowning as he stared down at Lynley mind racing, "I dunno, like a blow to the heart, an invisible blow," he stood and turned to Dolly, "Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural if unfortunate demise. Call a constable and have him taken away."

Dolly nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"I'll do it, ma'am," Lilith offered, having stepped quietly out of the Inn to join them in the courtyard just a moment ago. Dolly gave her a nod, and Lilith turned, a satisfied smirk curving up her lips as she walked away, exiting the courtyard on light feet.

"And why are you telling them that?" Martha asked quietly, frowning rather heavily at the Doctor as he crouched down with her and Sophie again.

The Doctor glanced at her, "This lot still have got one foot in the Dark Ages," he muttered in explanation, "If I tell them the truth, they'll panic and think it was witchcraft."

"Right," Sophie murmured softly grimacing as she continued, "Rather not provoke a witch hunt."

"Ok," Martha murmured in agreement as she nodded, she'd rather avoid that too, she focused on the Doctor again as she asked, "What was it then?"

"Witchcraft," the Doctor replied seriously.

*O*O*O*

Lilith stood between mother Doomfinger and Bloodtide around the bubbling cauldron, "The potion is prepared," Doomfinger announced, "Now take it," she handed a steaming bottle to Lilith, "Magic words for the playwright's fevered mind."

"Shakespeare will release us," Bloodtide crowed, "The mind of a genius will unlock the tide of blood."

"Upon this night, the work is done," Lilith murmured, a pleased smirk quirking up her lips as she continued mirthfully, "A muse to pen Love Labour's Won!" she corked the bottle and slipped it safely inside her small pouch.

*O*O*O*

The Doctor, Sophie and Martha followed Shakespeare back into the Inn, up the stairs and into his room. The playwright seating himself heavily into one of the chairs at the table, his thoughts as heavy as they were sombre. Whilst the Doctor leaned against a large cabinet, Sophie leaning pensively beside him on one side and Martha stood a slight distance away on the other, her arms crossed over her chest. His hand brushed against Sophie's gloved one and soon he found himself taking her hand in his intertwining their fingers, stroking his thumb back and forth over the back of it as his mind continued to turn over the events, what he'd seen happen, feeling Sophie's fingers tighten briefly about his own, before her thumb started slowly caressing back and forth, the petite brunette still lost in her own thoughts.

Dolly appeared in the doorway, "I got you a room, Sir Doctor," she informed them drawing their attention to her, "You, Dame Connolly and Miss Jones are just across the landing," she murmured getting a nod before she turned and left once more.

"Poor Lynley," Shakespeare sighed, breaking his heavy silence, "So many strange events," he mused as he turned his gaze to the three with him, "Not least of all," he focused on Martha, "This land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor?"

"Where a woman can do what she likes," Martha corrected, lips quirking up into a confident, proud smile.

"And you, Sir Doctor," Shakespeare focused his eyes on the puzzle of a man, "How can a man so young have eyes so old?"

"I do a lot of reading," the Doctor shrugged.

"A trite reply," Shakespeare murmured musingly, "Yeah, that's what I'd do," his gaze focused on Sophie, "And you, there is a question in your eyes, such uncertainty, like you are unsure of your place in the world, perhaps of even who you are. Like you are a mystery to yourself."

And Sophie flinched minutely, the Beast's words occurring to her again, 'You who doesn't even know what you are?'

'We'll find the answers, Sparks,' the Doctor projected to her reassuringly, the petite brunette having accidently projected her thoughts once more, and she turned her head to look at him, 'The answers are out there somewhere,' he continued confidently, their eyes meeting, 'And we'll find them.'

Shakespeare eyed the silent interaction with curiosity, questions growing in his mind, before he turned back to Martha, "And you?" she turned her gaze from the Doctor and Sophie to focus on him again, "You look at him like you're surprised he exists. He's as much a puzzle to you as he is to me. But," his gaze returned to Sophie, "He's not so much of a mystery to you. You look at him and the uncertainty you feel fades."

"I think we should say goodnight," Martha murmured and started for the door, a bit disconcerted about being so easily read by the man.

"I must work," Shakespeare agreed as Martha left, "I have a play to complete. But I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor," he stated confidently as the Doctor and Sophie headed towards the door, "And I'll discover more about you and why this constant performance of yours."

"All the world's a stage," the Doctor mused as he paused in the doorway, looking back at Shakespeare.

"Hmm," Shakespeare pondered the words as Sophie glanced at the Doctor questioningly, a brow arching, "I might use that," Shakespeare mused, "Goodnight, Doctor, Lady Sophie."

"Goodnight," Sophie replied.

"Nighty-night, Shakespeare," the Doctor murmured, before they stepped out the door and started away, leaving Shakespeare to work on his play.

*O*O*O*

Martha turned, the small candle she'd been using for light as she examined the room in hand as the door opened and Sophie and the Doctor stepped into the small bedroom they would be sharing. She smiled at them before turning her gaze to the room again, "Not exactly five-star, is it?"

"Oh, it'll do," the Doctor replied as he glanced about the room.

Sophie nodded as she stepped away from the door, "It could be worse," she murmured as she peered about the bedroom.

"I've seen worse," the Doctor added as he closed the door behind him and moved away from the door.

"I haven't even got a toothbrush," Martha realised… or anything really, just what she'd had on her for Leo's 21st, and her bag was back in the Tardis at that.

"Ooh," the Doctor patted at his pockets, before delving into one of them and pulling out a toothbrush, "Contains Venusian spearmint," he explained as he held it out to Martha.

Martha took it with a bemused smile, before her eyes turned once more to the one and only bed in the room, "So, who's going where?" she asked before she glanced back over at the Doctor and Sophie, "I mean, there's only one bed."

"We'll manage," the Doctor replied easily as he flopped down on to the mattress.

"We'll be a bit squished," Sophie muttered, butterflies stirring faintly in her stomach as she started towards the bed, a hand reaching up to pull the hair-tie from her hair, and slipping it into a pocket of her leather jacket, before settling herself down on the bed, only for the Doctor to pout at the distance she'd left between them and pat the bed beside him again. Sophie felt herself flush lightly, butterflies stirring in her belly again as she shifted closer to him.

Martha smiled slightly at them even as she swallowed against the sinking bitter feeling she recognised as jealousy. She stamped down on the emotion ruthlessly, truly determined to get over her little crush, he was taken and that was that, "So, magic and stuff," she commented, "That's a surprise. It's all a little bit 'Harry Potter'."

"Wait till you read book seven," the Doctor remarked, "Oh, I cried."

Sophie glanced over at him, her eyes slightly wide, "Really?"

"Oh, you'll be bawling," the Doctor told her.

Sophie let out a groan as she flopped back against the bed, "I swear you say things like that just to tease me!"

The Doctor shrugged, smirking as Sophie pouted, "You can read it on your birthday," he promised, technically that would only a few days early of its release date in 2007, so it wouldn't be a spoiler... not really.

Sophie blinked at him, surprised and delighted, she hadn't been expecting that, "Really?" she murmured and the Doctor nodded, smirk widening into a grin at the excitement on her face, "Thank you!" she beamed a grin and gave him a warm kiss on the cheek.

The Doctor took one of her gloved hands in his as she pulled back to rest against the pillows once more and pressed a warm kiss to the back of it, "You're welcome, Sparks," he murmured, smirking rather pleased as her cheeks flushed faintly.

"But is it real, though?" Martha asked with excitement, "I mean, witches, black magic and all that, it's real?"

"Course it isn't!" the Doctor scoffed.

"Well, how am I supposed to know?" Martha huffed, frowning a little offended, "I've only just started believing in time travel. Give me a break."

"You're the one who said it was witchcraft," Sophie reminded him, her brow furrowing slightly as she stared at him.

"Yes, well," the Doctor glanced at her, "It looks like witchcraft, but it isn't," he frowned slightly himself, "It can't be," he turned his gaze back to Martha who hadn't moved from where she was standing, "Are you going to stand there all night?"

Martha stepped around the bed, "Budge up a bit, then," she told the two already on the bed as she sat down on the other side of Sophie, "Sorry, there's not much room."

Sophie glanced at the Doctor again as she budged up as much as she could, "Told you, we'd be squished."

"And I'd told you, we'd manage," the Doctor replied as he shifted himself, wrapping his arms around Sophie, drawing her into his side and Sophie felt her cheeks flush faintly once more as she arranged herself so that she was comfortable, her head resting on his chest and her back to Martha as she laid down beside her.

"Us three here, same bed. Tongues will wag," Martha mused as she did her best to get comfortable in the space they'd made for her.

"No doubt," Sophie agreed with a low sigh.

"There's such a thing as psychic energy," the Doctor murmured pensively, "But a human couldn't channel it like that," Sophie shifted slightly against his chest looking up at him as he continued, "Not without a generator the size of Taunton and I think we'd have spotted that. No, there's something I'm missing, Sparks. Something really close," he trailed his fingers up and down Sophie arm tracing over the leather of his old jacket, "Staring me right in the face and I can't see it," he let out a low pensive sigh, before he glanced down at the woman in his arms and smiled, "Still, we'll figure it out, won't we, Sparks?"

"Yeah," Sophie murmured in agreement, her brow scrunched in thought.

The Doctor turned his head to glance at Martha who'd turned so that she was lying on her side facing them, "I'll take you home tomorrow," he promised, before looking back up at the ceiling pensively.

"Great!" Martha muttered with a frown as she rolled over on to her other side and blew out the candle she'd placed down on the bedside table.

*O*O*O*

Lilith approached the Elephant Inn once more, staring up at the window to Shakespeare's room, before levitating herself up to the window, peering in to see him sitting with his backed turned to it, quill in hand as he wrote. She quietly opened the window and slipped the potion from the pouch she'd stowed it into, uncorking it. She brought it up to her mouth and quietly blew against the mouth of the bottle, blowing the fumes of the potion towards Shakespeare, the playwright inhaling them a moment before slumping forward over his papers, unconscious.

Lilith slipped quietly into the room through the window, holding up a marionette, a quill in its hand as she started to chant once more, "Bind the mind and take the man. Speed the words to writer's hand."

Shakespeare jerked upright once more as Lilith jerked the strings of her marionette, his eyes vacant as he stared ahead of him, his quill moving over paper once more as Lilith manipulated the strings of the marionette, jiggling its arm.

*O*O*O*

Sophie shifted slightly in the Doctor's embrace, listening to the sound of his hearts beating as her mind drifted sleepily, just on the edge of sleep. His hand that was lightly holding her gloved one as it rested against his chest tightening briefly in response. Whilst the Doctor continued to stare pensively up at the ceiling, wide awake as he thought. And Martha lay with her back to the pair still as she slept peacefully.

*O*O*O*

Shakespeare under the power of Lilith scrawled the word 'finis' onto the page and Lilith allowed him to slump forward against the table, unconscious once more. She reached out a hand and stroked his hair, her back to the door.

"Will?" Dolly Bailey called as she stepped into the room, a broom in hand, "Finished cleaning just in time for your special treat," she looked up with a grin only to pause as she caught sight of Lilith standing there, "Oh, aye. I'm not the first, then."

Lilith turned and Dolly's eyes widened in fright at the sight of her face wrinkled with age, "I'll take that to aid my flight and you shall speak no more this night," she snatched the broom from the shocked Dolly's grasp and Dolly couldn't help but scream in terror as the woman advanced on her menacingly.

*O*O*O*

The Doctor, Sophie and Martha jolted upright, before the trio leapt up off the bed and scrambled out the door. The Doctor leading the way as they dashed in the direction that the scream had come from. The three of them burst through the door into Shakespeare's room to see Dolly Bailey lying on the floor close to the door.

Shakespeare jerked awake at their entrance, "Wha'?" he muttered groggy and confused, "What was that?" and when exactly had he fallen asleep?

Sophie and Martha looked up from the collapsed still form, their troubled eyes landing on the open window and they ran towards it whilst the Doctor knelt down by Dolly, "Her heart gave out," he observed with a furrowed brow, "She died of fright."

Sophie stared wide eyed out the window at the form that was silhouetted in the light of the moon, astride a broomstick, "No way," she breathed as the silhouetted form cackled menacingly, before she called over her shoulder, her voice mingling with Martha's as the young medical student pulled herself out her own shock, "Doctor?"

The Doctor stood and hurried over, standing slightly behind the two of them as he joined them at the window, peering out of it only to see nothing out of the ordinary, "What did you see?" he asked as he look at them.

"A witch," Martha replied.

"She flew off with a cackle," Sophie murmured.

The Doctor blinked, glancing at her again with a slightly raised brow, "Flew?"

Sophie pulled her gaze from the night sky to look at him and nodded in confirmation, bells chiming quietly.

"On a broom," Martha clarified and the Doctor glanced at her again too, before he turned his gaze back to the night sky, his brow furrowing once more. Things were just continuing to not make any sense, none at all.

*O*O*O*

Shakespeare stood at the open window of his room, staring morosely out at the lightening sky as dawn crested the horizon. A cockerel crowed and he let out a low sigh, "Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey," he murmured, before he turned to the three that were seated around his table, "She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place when we all ran like rats," he told them as he moved away from the window towards his chair, sinking down into it, "But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit."

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light," the Doctor quoted, his head in his hands as he rested his elbows against the surface of the table.

"I might use that," Shakespeare mused.

"You can't," the Doctor replied as Sophie tangled the ends of her hair, that she'd thrown back up into a ponytail, around her fingers as she glanced at the Doctor as he continued, "It's someone else's."

"But the thing is," Martha murmured, her brow furrowed thoughtfully, "Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright, and they were both connected to you."

"You're accusing me?" Shakespeare asked, visibly surprised and perhaps a little offended by the possible accusation.

"No," Martha replied.

"Course not," Sophie murmured in agreement as she untangled her fingers from the ends of her hair.

"But Sophie and I saw a witch," Martha continued and Sophie nodded, "Big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."

"I have?" Shakespeare asked, brow furrowing in confusion as he stared at Martha, whilst Sophie winced, 'oops', "When was that?"

"Not, not quite yet," the Doctor whispered lowly to Martha.

"Peter Streete spoke of witches," Shakespeare informed them as he leaned back in his chair, his expression troubled.

"He did?" Sophie asked with a pensive frown and Shakespeare nodded and Sophie blinked, her pensive frown deepening, another question forming.

"Who's Peter Streete?" Martha asked, voicing the question that had been on the tip of Sophie's tongue as she turned her eyes back to the playwright.

"Our builder," Shakespeare explained, "He sketched the plans to the Globe."

"The architect," the Doctor mumbled with a nod, his mind still racing, "Hold on. The architect!" he slapped his fisted hand against the table making Sophie and Martha jump slightly at the sudden outburst, "The architect!" he repeated, "The Globe!" he leapt to his feet and started racing for the door, "Come on!" he called over his shoulder, Sophie already following him, Martha and Shakespeare only a couple of steps behind as they chased after the pair.

*O*O*O*

"The columns there, right?" the Doctor asked as he stood in the pit of the Globe Theatre whilst Sophie, Martha and Shakespeare stood on the stage, "Fourteen sides," he murmured musingly, "I've always wondered, but never asked… tell me, Will, why fourteen sides?"

"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all," Shakespeare shrugged, "Said it carried the sound well."

"Fourteen," the Doctor murmured as he glanced around the Theatre again, "Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen."

"There's fourteen lines in a sonnet," Martha pointed out and Sophie nodded in agreement, bells chiming quietly.

"So there is," the Doctor agreed aloud, "Good point," he nodded, "Words and shapes following the same design."

"Oh," Sophie murmured, turning her gaze about the Theatre again, "And words are powerful," she turned her gaze on the Doctor, "Even more so in a Theatre."

"Yes, yes, they are," the Doctor muttered, mind racing as he started to pace, "Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets… oh my head. Tetradecagon…think, think, think!" he muttered, hitting his forehead with each word, "Words, letters, numbers, lines!"

"This is just a theatre," Shakespeare protested with exasperation.

"Oh, yeah, but a theatre's magic, isn't it?" the Doctor replied, turning to the playwright, "You should know. Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis at the right time… oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy, change them. You can change people's minds just with words in this place. And if you exaggerate that…"

"Then the theatre becomes more than a theatre," Sophie murmured pensively, her brow scrunched slightly whilst the Doctor turned his eyes to her with a nod of agreement.

"It's like your police box," Martha chimed in, staring at the Doctor, "Small wooden box with all that power inside."

"Oh," the Doctor grinned at her, "Oh, Martha Jones, I like you."

Sophie nodded, her own lips curved up into a smile as she glanced at Martha, before she sighed lowly, "That still leaves 'why'?" she muttered, her brow scrunching into a troubled pensive frown again as her eyes returned to the Doctor, "Why go to all the trouble?"

The Doctor frowned himself and shook his head, "I dunno, Sparks," he murmured, before he smiled again, "Tell you what, though. Peter Streete would know," he turned his eyes back to the still somewhat sceptical Shakespeare, "Can I talk to him?"

"You won't get an answer. A month after finishing this place…" Shakespeare trailed and shook his head sadly, "Lost his mind."

Sophie frowned as Martha exclaimed, "Why?" before she quickly followed it with, "What happened?"

"Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling," Shakespeare explained, "His mind was addled."

"But, he hadn't shown any signs of illness before?" Sophie half asked, half stated, drawing Shakespeare's gaze from Martha to her, whilst the Doctor's frown deepened as he waited for the man's reply.

"None," the playwright murmured.

Sophie frowned a bit harder, eyes troubled as she glanced away from Shakespeare, "Witches…" she muttered pensively as she started towards the edge of the stage and jumped down, joining the Doctor in the pit.

"Where is he now?" the Doctor asked.

"Bedlam," Shakespeare responded as he turned his attention back to the Doctor.

"What's Bedlam?" Martha asked.

"Bethlehem Hospital. The madhouse," Shakespeare explained.

"We're gonna go there," the Doctor stated as he stepped closer to Sophie taking her hand in his, "Right now. Come on," he gestured for Martha to follow as he turned, he and Sophie starting for the exit. Whilst Martha jumped off the stage to follow them.

"Wait!" Shakespeare called after them as he moved to follow, "I'm coming with you," he jumped off the stage, "I want to witness this at first hand!" he exclaimed as the Doctor and Sophie slipped past two young men as they entered and out the door, "Ralf, the last scene as promised," Shakespeare told one of them, "Copy it, hand it round, learn it, speak it," he ordered hurriedly as Martha followed the two out the door, "Back before curtain up. And remember, kid, project. Eyes and teeth. You never know, the Queen might turn up," he started for the door again himself, leaving Ralf to stare after him, before looking down at the paper he'd been given, "As if," Shakespeare muttered lowly as he walked through the doorway, moving quickly to catch up with the others, absolutely refusing to be left behind, "She never does."

*O*O*O*

"So, tell me of Freedonia," Shakespeare requested as he walked beside Martha as they followed the Doctor and Sophie through the streets, "Where women can be doctors, writers, actors."

"This country's ruled by a woman," Martha reminded him.

"Ah, she's royal," Shakespeare countered, "That's God's business. Though, you are a royal beauty," he flirted.

"Whoa, Nelly," Martha came to a stop, turning to face the playwright, "I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country."

"Doctor," Sophie murmured and the Doctor turned his head to look at her, "We're leaving Martha behind," and the pair paused in their stride as the Doctor glanced back over his shoulder to see that the two following them had stopped in the middle of the street facing each other.

"But Martha," Shakespeare murmured with a wide smile as he continued flirtatiously, "This is Town."

The Doctor rolled his eyes with exasperation and started quickly back towards them, Sophie in tow, his hand still holding her gloved one, "Come on," he called to them, drawing their attention, "We can all have a good flirt later."

"Is that a promise, Doctor?" Shakespeare asked flirtatiously and Sophie blinked brows rising a bit surprised by it, before she glanced at Martha, who was staring at the playwright with some bemusement.

"Oh," the Doctor shook his head, "Fifty-seven academics just punched the air," he muttered.

Sophie glanced at him, a curious brow arching as she eyed him, "They did?" she asked with some amusement.

"Oh yes," the Doctor replied, "Now move!" he ordered the group at large, before he led them swiftly down the street again.

*O*O*O*

Loud screams and wailing moans echoed through the corridors of the hospital as the Doctor, Sophie, Martha and Shakespeare where led through the building by the Keeper.

"Does my Lord Doctor wish some entertainment while he waits?" the Keeper asked with a smirk as he led the group of four into another section, "I'd whip these madmen," the Doctor's face darkened as he frowned and Sophie flinched, eyes widening with horrified alarm as she stared at the Keeper. Whilst behind them Martha stared incredulously and Shakespeare grimaced uneasily, "They'll put on a good show for ya," the Keeper continued with a grin seemingly unaware of the discomfiture of the group he was leading, "Mad dog in Bedlam!"

"No, I don't!" the Doctor shouted in response as he glowered darkly at the man, who barely skipped a beat as he continued on.

"Well, wait here my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies," the Keeper told them, before he turned from them and walked off, down the corridor moving passed occupied cell after occupied cell. Those within wailing and some even reaching through the bars at the man, something he barely seemed to notice.

Sophie frowned after the man, her gloved hands clenched at her sides as she swallowed heavily against the sick feeling that had lodged in her gut. She felt the Doctor's eyes on her a moment before she felt his right hand take her left. She let him manipulate her clenched digits, lowering her gaze to their hands so that she could watch as he intertwined their fingers, before he wrapped left arm about her back drawing her against his chest as he brushed his consciousness against hers. Sophie leaned into his embrace as she returned the familiar mental gesture as she did her best to release the tension from her body, her eyes still on their interlaced fingers, glad for the comfort of his arms around her. The Time Lord really did give good hugs. The very best as far as she was concerned.

Whilst Martha turned, rounding on Shakespeare with an incredulous frown, "So, this is what you call a hospital, yeah?" she asked her tone sharp with accusation, drawing her companions gazes, "Where patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?"

"Oh," Shakespeare huffed and rolled his eyes as he continued with sarcasm, "It's all so different in Freedonia."

"But you're clever!" Martha insisted, before she looked around at the corridor of the hospital they were in, "Do you honestly think this place is any good?"

"I've been mad. I've lost my mind," Shakespeare answered lowly, expression grim, "Fear of this place set me right again."

"Mad in what way?" Martha asked, eyeing him with disbelief.

"You lost your son," the Doctor murmured and Martha glanced over at him visibly startled whilst Sophie's eyes widened with surprise.

"My only boy," Shakespeare confirmed lowly after a short pause, eyeing the Doctor for a moment before looking away again, "The Black Death took him," he swallowed heavily, lifting his gaze to the ceiling before continuing, "I wasn't even there."

"I didn't know," Martha murmured guiltily as she turned back to the playwright, "I'm sorry," she apologised.

"Very sorry," Sophie murmured softly, she hadn't known either and she couldn't even begin to imagine that kind of pain.

"It made me question everything," Shakespeare admitted lowly, "The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be…" he trailed, "Oh," he blinked before continuing musingly, "That's quite good."

"You should write that down," the Doctor grinned.

"Hm, maybe not," Shakespeare muttered, pulling a bit of a face as he looked over at them, "A bit pretentious?"

Sophie shrugged, "I like it," she murmured, it had been one of the few lines that she'd actually managed to understand when she'd been attempting to slog her way through Shakespeare's plays and sonnets as a teenager.

"Hm," Shakespeare hummed continuing to consider the line.

The Doctor arched a brow as he brought his gaze to Sophie a smirk playing along his lips, 'You do?' he projected.

'It's just a line,' Sophie replied as she shifted slightly in his arms, lifting her head so that she could look up at him.

'A play and a line,' the Doctor corrected a little smugly.

Sophie rolled her eyes at him good naturedly, 'Still don't like his work,' she refuted.

The Doctor's smile turned amused, 'Sure you don't', Sparks,' he teased, before tapped her lightly on the nose as she scrunched it at him.

'I don't!' she insisted, before pouting as his smile turned into a grin, 'Stop it!' she whined as her lips started to twitch upwards in response, only to get an amused mental chuckle from the grinning Time Lord.

Shakespeare eyed them, the playwright wondering once again if some kind of silent conversation was taking place between the two… he glanced over at Martha who was staring at them with equal curiosity and continued confusion. The three he was keeping company with really were a very peculiar curious bunch.

"This way, m'lord!" the Keeper called from the end of the corridor and the four turned, Sophie reluctantly stepping out of the Doctor's arms as they started towards the man, joining him just outside Peter Streete's cell, seeing the figure of a man in dirty clothes, his back to them as he lay on his cot.

The Keeper unlocked the cell door allowing the four to file past him and into the grubby cell, "They can be dangerous, m'lord," he warned as he stepped in after them, "Don't know their own strength."

"I think it helps if you don't whip them," the Doctor replied sharply as he turned to the man with a glower, "Now get out!"

The Keeper stared, eyes wide in shock for a brief moment before he turned and left unwilling to argue.

The Doctor turned his attention back to the man on the bed, "Peter?" he called as he approached slowly, "Peter Streete?" he called again as he crouched down by the cot only to get no response from the man.

"He's the same as he was," Shakespeare sighed sadly and Sophie and Martha looked at him, "You'll get nothing out of him."

Sophie turned her eyes back to the Doctor as he reached out a careful hand to the hunched over man on the cot, "Peter?" the Time Lord called as he gently touched the man's shoulder. Peter's head jerked up in response, his eyes wide and glassy, and yet a wild sheen to them as he stared at the Doctor.

*O*O*O*

Lilith paused in what she was doing, brow furrowing as she brought a hand to her temple, "What is this?" she gasped, "I must see," she stepped over to the cauldron, peering into t's depths, using the liquid within to scry. An image of a man she'd seen before and Peter appeared on the liquids surface. She frowned at it, "That stranger," she muttered, "He was at the Inn with Shakespeare. I thought then he smelt of something new."

"Now they visit the madhouse," Bloodtide observed as she joined Lilith in peering into the cauldron, "The architect!"

*O*O*O*

Sophie, Martha and Shakespeare watched quietly as the Doctor placed his fingers to Peter's temples, closing his eyes as he concentrated, "Peter, I'm the Doctor," he murmured softly, his eyes opening as the man trembled and twitched beneath his fingertips, "Go into the past," he urged gently, guiding the man's mind carefully with his own, "One year ago. Let your mind go back, back to when everything was fine and shining. Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story. A winter's tale. Let go. Listen. That's it, that's it, just let go," he murmured and Peter let out a gasp, his wild glassy eyes starting to calm and the Doctor stood, carefully guided Peter back down to lay in his cot as the man continued to tremble and twitch, "Tell me the story, Peter," he softly urged the man, "Tell me about the witches."

*O*O*O*

"Who is this Doctor?" Lilith demanded to know as she glared darkly down at the image of the Doctor and Peter in the cell, "Why does he come now at our time of glory? Doomfinger, transport yourself," she commanded as she turned to the older witch, "Doom the Doctor," she demanded, "Doom his hide."

*O*O*O*

"Witches spoke to Peter," Peter told them quietly, tremors still wracking his body, "In the night, they whispered. Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design!" he exclaimed with anger before it faded just as quickly, "The fourteen walls, always fourteen," he muttered frowning into space, "When the work was done," he let out a slightly manic laugh, before his expression sobered again and he twitched and shivered as he continued, "They snapped poor Peter's wits."

"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city?" the Doctor asked, crouching down in front of Peter once more as he began to gasp, his breathing quickened fearfully at the questions, "Peter, tell me," the Doctor urged gently and Peter's eyes seemed to really focus on him for perhaps the first time, "You've got to tell me. Where were they?"

There was a beat of silence as Peter seemed to fight himself, mouth opening and closing, before he finally managed to gasp out the words, "All Hallows Street."

"Too many words!" A woman's voice shrieked through the room and the Doctor, Sophie, Martha and Shakespeare turned in the direction of the voice. The Doctor practically leaping back up to his feet as he did so, backing away from the witch to stand beside Sophie, all of them staring at the haggard witch that had suddenly appeared in the cell with them as Peter trembled and gasped on his grubby cot.

"What the hell?" Martha exclaimed gaping at the witch.

"Magic," Sophie murmured as she continued to eye the witch, there hadn't been a light like what usually accompanied teleportation, she'd just appeared out of nowhere between one blink and the next.

"Psychic energy," the Doctor corrected lowly as the witch straightened up slightly, shifting towards Peter.

"Just one touch," she raised a gnarled finger as she continued, "Of the heart," she reached for the trembling Peter.

"No!" the Doctor shouted, a second before the witch's finger touched Peter's chest, the man screaming before he slumped, life leaving him.

"Witch!" Shakespeare exclaimed with no little shock and perhaps a little disbelief and horror, as he stared wide-eyed at the woman who'd just killed his friend, "I'm seeing a witch!"

Sophie swallowed hard as she lifted her wide horrified gaze from the lifeless form of Peter to the witch as the old crone turned to them, "Now, who would be next, hmm?" the crone cooed and Sophie felt herself stiffen as the witches eyes focused on her, before her eyes narrowed into a glare and she clenched her jaw against the fear that was making her heart pound against her ribcage, "Just one touch," she flourished her hands and Sophie found her view of the witch partially obscured as the Doctor shifted to stand in front of her protectively, his own gaze narrowed into a glare, "Oh, oh," the witch cackled gleefully as she eyed them off one by one, "I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals."

"Let us out!" Martha shouted frantically as she turned to the locked door of the cell the Keeper had left them in, gripping at the bars tightly as she rattled them in a desperate attempt to get the door open, "Let us out!"

"That's not going to work," the Doctor told her calmly and Martha glanced over at him, "The whole buildings shouting that."

"Doesn't hurt to try though," Sophie murmured as Martha released the cell door as she turned away from it.

"Who will die first, hmm?" the witch asked with a cruel smirk twisting up her lips as she lifted her gnarled hands once more.

"Well, if you're looking for volunteers," the Doctor murmured and took a step towards the haggard witch, only to be brought up short as Sophie darted around him, blocking his way, hands coming up to his chest, pushing him backwards again.

"No!" she glowered up at him, "Don't finish that sentence," she pleaded, tears pricking hotly at the back of her eyes as she stared up at him, her heart aching painfully in her chest as it continued to pound, now in fear for him. She couldn't see him die again, she just couldn't! "Please!" she added as he stared at her.

The Time Lord winced at the pain and fear he could see reflected in her hazel flecked blue as their eyes met, before he grasped her arms and pulled her back so that she was once again tucked more safely behind him and further out of the witch's reach, unwilling to see her die again either. That one time all so long ago with the Reapers had been devastating. His arm that was holding her to his side, tightened.

"Ooh," the witch cackled, her hands fluttering excitably in front of her, "Young love," she cooed with a cruel glee and the Doctor glowered at her darkly, whilst Sophie brow furrowed, her hand that was fisted around the material of his suit jacket tightening as she clenched her jaw tightly, breathing through the fresh wave of fear that clawed at her.

"Doctor, can you stop her?" Shakespeare asked.

The cruel glee faded from the witch's face as her gaze turned to the playwright, "No mortal has power over me," she sneered disdainfully.

"Oh, but Sparks is right, there's a power in words," the Doctor murmured, "If I can just find the right one," the Doctor continued, his mind racing through possibilities as he eyed the old crone, "If I can just know you."

"None on Earth has knowledge of us," the witch declared sharply, pointing one of her fingers at the Doctor.

"Then it's a good thing I'm here," the Doctor replied shifting back a bit more away from the gnarled finger, pulling Sophie with him, "Now, think, think, think," he muttered still eyeing the haggard woman cataloguing her, "Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy…" he thought aloud, "Ah!" he exclaimed, "Fourteen! That's it! Fourteen!" he repeated and the witch stared at him with growing unease as he continued, "The fourteen stars of the Rexel planetary configuration! Creature, I name you Carrionite!" he declared pointing a finger right back at the old crone, who let out a shriek, before disappearing in a flash of bright orange light.

Sophie let out a breath that she hadn't known that she'd been holding, her hand loosening around the Doctor's jacket as the Time Lord let out a breath of his own, some of the tension in his body leaving.

"What did you do?" Martha asked as she turned to look at the Doctor with wide eyes.

"I named her," the Doctor replied, glancing at her as he loosened his hold on Sophie, "The power of a name," and Sophie looked up at him, brow slightly scrunched in thought as she wondered briefly if that was why he hid his, but she shook the thought away, this wasn't the time. Her eyes refocusing on the Doctor as he continued, "That's old magic."

"Magic?" Sophie questioned, lips quirking up slightly as she stared at him.

"There's no such thing," Martha reminded him, a brow arching.

"Well," the Doctor shrugged as he looked from one to the other and back again, "It's just a different sort of science," he explained, "You lot chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead."

"Use them for what?" Shakespeare asked, brow furrowed.

"The end of the world," the Doctor replied grimly and Sophie let out a low sighing breath, brow furrowing as she nodded slightly, not all that surprised. Whilst Martha stared at him with wide-eyed alarm.

*O*O*O*

Doomfinger gasped for breath as she appeared back in the house in All Hallows Street, "He knows us!" she wheezed, "He spoke our name!"

"Then he will know death," Lilith declared as she turned her eyes back to the depths of the cauldron, eyes hard as she regarded the image, "He will perish at my hand. My mothers, the time approaches. You must away to the Globe. Go! I will join you as soon as this Doctor screams his last."

*O*O*O*

Sophie and Martha leaned against a large cabinet in Shakespeare's room watching the Doctor as he paced back and forth, whilst Shakespeare stood by a basin of water, washing his face.

"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe," the Doctor muttered as he paced past Sophie and Martha again, "Nobody was sure if they were real or legend."

"Well," Shakespeare turned to them, patting his face dry, "I'm going for real."

"But what do they want?" Martha asked.

"A new empire on Earth," the Doctor replied, before he came to a stop, leaning against the table, "A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."

Sophie grimaced at the imagery that invoked, "Charming," she muttered with a frown, her arms crossing over her chest.

"But how?" Martha asked, her own brow furrowing as she looked at the Doctor for answers.

"Their power comes from words," Sophie murmured, her gaze going to Shakespeare, who blinked at her.

"That it does," the Doctor agreed as his own gaze went to the playwright, "And we're looking at the man with the words."

"Me?" Shakespeare exclaimed as he stared at them rather shocked, "But I've done nothing," he insisted.

"Hold on, though," Martha frowned as she eyed Shakespeare, "What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?"

"Finishing the play," Shakespeare replied.

"Exactly," Sophie murmured as she straightened up from her lean, uncrossing her arms so that she could tangle her fingers into the ends of her hair, "Words."

"What happens on the last page?" the Doctor questioned as he returned his gaze to the playwright staring at Shakespeare intently.

"The boys get the girls," Shakespeare shrugged, "They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual," and Sophie couldn't help but pull a bit of face, "Except those last few lines," he mused with a frown, "Funny thing is… I don't actually remember writing them," he admitted with a touch of trepidation.

"That's it!" the Doctor exclaimed as realisation dawned, stepping towards Shakespeare as his mind raced, "They used you. They gave you the final words like a spell, like a code. 'Love's Labours Won', it's a weapon! The right combination of words, spoken at the right place with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing!" he exclaimed, before he turned only to swiftly turn back to Shakespeare, "And yes, you can have that," and Sophie shook her head, lips quirking up in mild amusement as the Doctor swiftly turned away again, bursting into movement, completely ignoring the somewhat bemused look Shakespeare was giving him.

*O*O*O*

The audience watched as the opening fanfare came to a close, the Globe Theatre packed once more, Doomfinger and Bloodtide watching from the box Lilith had occupied the previous night as one of the actors stepped out onto the stage in full costume, staring out at the audience.

"We left the lovers of Navarre by cruel chance separated," he addressed the audience, "None to claim his heart, their labours lost. Now will they find Love's Labour's Won?" he wondered and the audience cheered enthusiastically as they broke out into applause.

*O*O*O*

The Doctor, Sophie, Martha and Shakespeare stood around the playwrights table, looking down at a map. The Doctor peering at it through his spectacles, "All Hallows Street," he pointed to the street on the map as he continued, "There it is. Sparks, Martha, we'll track them down," the two women nodded, "Will," he looked up at the playwright, "You get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!"

"I'll do it," Shakespeare agreed and extended a hand out to the Doctor, "All these years I've been the cleverest man around," he continued as the Time Lord took his hand, shaking it, "Next to you, I know nothing."

"Oh, don't complain," Martha commented lightly as Sophie quirked up her brows and the Doctor took off his spectacles, slipping them back into his pocket.

"I'm not," Shakespeare replied with a smile, "It's marvellous," he declared and Sophie's lips lifted into a small smile as he continued, "Good luck, Doctor."

"Good luck, Shakespeare," the Doctor responded in kind, starting swiftly for the door, snatching up his coat as he went, shrugging it on.

"Break a leg," Sophie wished him as she hurried after Doctor, before grimacing slightly. Did people say that in 1599? She glanced back at Shakespeare, "It means good luck in uh, Freedonia," she clarified just to be sure.

"And to you my Lady Sophie," Shakespeare called after her a bit bemused as he watched her follow the Doctor out the door, Martha a step behind her.

"Once more unto the breach!" he heard the Doctor exclaim, just outside his room and blinked musingly.

"I like that," he decided, before he paused briefly, brow furrowing, "Wait a minute… that's one of mine!" he exclaimed.

A second later the Doctor's head popped back in through the doorway, to stare at him, "Oh, just shift!" he demanded, before swiftly disappearing back out the door again, and Shakespeare grinned before hurrying out the door of his room himself.

*O*O*O*

Doomfinger and Bloodtide peered down at the stage from the box they were seated in as one actor clutched at another as the play continued, his voice echoing through the packed theatre, "The eye should have contentment where it rests. This spun-out year I watch on, groaning sick…"

Bloodtide glanced down at the softly glowing orb she was holding, tiny black figures zooming about a distant sky reflected in its depths, "Patience, my sisters. Patience," she murmured, before her gaze returned to the stage.

"Mewling poor drooped men in stenched beds…"

"Stop the play!" Shakespeare shouted as he burst through the door and marched out onto the stage, "I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen," he addressed the audience, "But stop. This performance must end immediately!" he declared.

"Oh, everyone's a critic," the actor who'd been in the middle of acting out his lines muttered, frowning over at Shakespeare.

"The wordsmith!" Bloodtide hissed.

"Fear not," Doomfinger murmured, "I have the doll," she pulled it out and Bloodtide smirked as Doomfinger held up the doll.

"I'm sorry," Shakespeare continued to address the audience, "You'll get a refund," he assured as the crowd booed their displeasure, "But this play must not be performed!"

Doomfinger knocked the doll with her hand and Shakespeare collapsed to the stage floor, knocked out cold.

"Is he drunk or what?" another actor muttered to his fellows.

"Get him off the stage," the first actor hissed to the others and the young men playing the parts of women moved to carry the downed playwright off the stage as the audience laughed.

"You must forgive our irksome, Will," the actor that had been in the middle of his death scene stood, addressing the crowd, "He's been on the beer and feeling ill," he excused, before doing a bit of a backwards jig to the crowd's amusement.

"There is naught can stop us now," Doomfinger murmured with a smirk as she slipped the doll away once more.

*O*O*O*

"All Hallows Street," the Doctor stated as he, Sophie and Martha ran out into the afore mentioned street, the three coming to a stop, "But which house?" he muttered as he glanced about at the houses.

"They all look pretty much the same," Sophie murmured as she turned in a slow circle, eyeing off the houses.

"The thing is, though…" Martha began with confusion, drawing the Doctor's and Sophie's attention from the houses lining the street to her, "Am I missing something here? The world didn't end in 1599. It just didn't. Look at me," she gestured at herself, "I'm living proof."

"Oh," the Doctor sighed, "How to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux?" he muttered, frowning as he tried to think of a simple way to put it, "I know! 'Back to the Future'! It's like 'Back to the Future'!"

"The film?" Martha blinked a bit surprised.

"No, the novelisation," the Doctor retorted with impatience and Sophie nudged him as she shot him a reproving look, "Yes, the film," the Doctor glanced at Sophie briefly before turning his gaze back to Martha as he continued his attempt at an explanation, "Marty McFly goes back and changes history."

"And he starts fading away," Martha replied recalling what had happened in the movie, her frown deepening.

Sophie nodded, "Because time isn't a straight line," she murmured recalling what the Doctor had said to explain it to her, "And can be twisted."

"Into any shape," the Doctor agreed lowly.

"Oh my God," Martha exclaimed eyes widening with alarm and her gaze went to Sophie and then back to the Doctor, "Are we going to fade?"

"You, Sparks and the entire future of the human race," the Doctor replied seriously, before Sophie could do little more than nod in response to Martha's alarmed gaze, "It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it."

"We'll stop it," Sophie murmured with quite confidence and the Doctor shot her a fond look as he nodded.

He turned his gaze back to the street, glancing about the houses once more with a frown, "But which house?" he muttered again.

Their gazes were drawn to a specific house a little further down the street as the door slowly creaked open invitingly.

"Ah," the Doctor murmured and turned back to Sophie and Martha, "Make that witch house," he punned lightly, before he turned back to the house, his expression grim again as he led them towards it. They stepped through the open doorway, peering about the house as they entered, before starting up a staircase.

They approached a curtained off doorway, the Doctor grasped it, pushing it out of his way to peer into the room beyond, taking in the cobwebs that were scattered about in practically every nook, cranny and crevice that he could see from the doorway. Candles flickering, casting ominous shadows about the room and plants that were hanging from hooks, left to dry out for use. He stepped in, Sophie stepping through the doorway after him. Her eyes sweeping about what she could see of the dimly lit room as Martha followed her in past the curtain.

The two followed the Doctor as he advanced further in the room that had witchcraft written all over it. Their gazes landing on the young woman, the maid from the Inn, dressed now in black, as she stood by the window, waiting, her back to the glass as she eyed them with a pleased smirk curving up her lips.

"I take it we're expected," the Doctor remarked, eyeing the young woman as he, Sophie and Martha came to a stop across the room from her.

"Oh," the witch flicked her gaze up and down the Doctor as she continued, "I think death has been waiting for you a very long time."

"Right then, it's my turn," Martha stated as she took a step forward, moving past the Doctor and Sophie, who both glanced at her brows slightly furrowed as they eyed her questioningly, "I know how to do this. I name thee Carrionite!" she shouted pointing confidently at the woman, who gasped theatrically, before she laughed completely unaffected by the old magic Martha had attempted to wield. Martha glanced back at the Doctor with a frown, "What did I do wrong? Was it the finger?"

"The power of a name works only once," the witch replied, drawing their eyes back to her as she stepped forward, "Observe," her eyes locked on Martha as the three across from her stared at her with apprehension, "I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee, Martha Jones," she pointed at her.

"Martha!" Sophie exclaimed with concern as the other woman collapsed backwards, the Doctor catching her.

"What have you done?" the Doctor demanded sharply as he lowered Martha carefully to the floor, glaring at the witch.

"Only sleeping, alas," the Carrionite observed with disappointment, "It's curious. The name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time," she mused, before she raised her gaze from the unconscious form, taking another step forward, eyes locking on the Doctor, "And as for you, Sir Doctor!" she jabbed her finger at him and paused again as nothing happened, "Fascinating," she murmured eyeing him, "There is no name," she cocked her head slightly, with confusion, "Why would a man hide his title in such despair?" she wondered aloud and Sophie glanced at the Doctor shifting closer to him, even as her gaze was drawn back to the witch as she continued, unwilling to leave her out of her sight for long, "Oh, but look," she cooed, lips curving up in a triumphant smirk as she held the Doctor's gaze, "There's still one word with the power that aches."

"The naming won't work on me," the Doctor replied coldly.

"But your heart would grow cold as the North wind blows," the witch eyed him, switching tracks as she continued, "Kept warm only by a lingering spark carrying the name of… Sophie Connolly!" she suddenly turned her gaze to the petite brunette beside the Doctor, eyes locking with alarmed blue as she jabbed her finger once more.

"Sparks?!" the Doctor cried with alarm, terror slicing through him as the brunette gripped at her chest, over her heart as if pained. He reached for her as her body bowed slightly and she swayed gasping for breath, "Oh, big mistake!" the Doctor glowered darkly at the Carrionite as he supported Sophie, who was trying to take deep even breathes. Her body trembling lightly in his arms, "Cos that name keeps me fighting!"

Sophie blinked, brow furrowing slightly as the pain that had gripped at her heart disappeared almost as if it had never been, along with the blackness that had crept along her vision threatening to send her into unconsciousness, "I'm ok," she murmured, and the Doctor glanced back down at her as she blinked once more before she glanced up at the Doctor, shifting a little in his hold as she straightened, "I'm fine," she assured, her voice coming out stronger and the Doctor let out a breath of relief.

"Interesting," the Carrionite mused, drawing their gazes back to her. The Doctor drawing Sophie behind him as he frowned darkly at the witch, "Another woman somehow out of time," she continued eyeing Sophie intently, "But this one, with a name that's not her name," she smirked maliciously, "Her true name forgot," her head cocked eyes alight with a cruel mirth as Sophie flinched, her eyes widening as she sucked in a sharp breath as the witch continued, "Lost to her, along with her parents love."

"The Carrionites vanished!" the Doctor cut in sharply, brown eyes dark with anger as he walked up to her, drawing the witch's attention from Sophie, as the petite brunette rubbed at her chest for a brief moment longer, swallowing heavily against the pain the witch's words had caused as the Time Lord continued, "Where did you go?"

"The Eternals found the right word to banish us into deep darkness," the witch replied tersely as she turned from them, moving back towards the window.

"And how did you escape?" the Doctor demanded, frowning heavily at the witch, whilst Sophie watched, listening, as her fingers tangled into the ends of her hair and her teeth abused her lower lip.

"New words," the witch smirked turning back to him as she continued, "New and glittering, from a mind like no other."

"Shakespeare," the Doctor breathed in realisation.

"His son perished," the witch expounded and Sophie frowned at her, tugging at the ends of her hair as the Carrionite continued, "The grief of a genius. Grief without measure. Madness enough to allow us entrance."

"How many of you?" the Doctor questioned, glaring.

"Just the three," the witch replied and the Doctor watched her coolly as she paced before the window, whilst Sophie forced herself to release the abused ends of her hair, troubled eyes tracking the witch as she moved back and forth, "But the play tonight shall restore the rest. Then the human race will be purged as pestilence," she declared, stilling, "And from this world we will lead the universe back into the old ways of blood and magic."

"Hmm… busy schedule…" the Doctor stepped towards her once again, coming to stand toe to toe with her, "But first you've got to get past me."

"Oh, that should be a pleasure," the witch cooed, smiling seductively at him, "Considering my enemy has such a handsome shape."

Sophie grimaced, her lips curving downwards as she watched the Carrionite trail her fingers along the Doctor's cheek as a rather unpleasant sensation clawed at her. Jealousy, she realised a quick beat later and she pursed her lips as she clenched her jaw against it.

"Now," the Doctor caught the Carrionite's wrist, pulling her hand away from his face, his eyes narrowing on her, "That's one form of magic that's definitely not gonna work on me," not from her at any rate.

"Oh," the witch smirked knowingly, her gaze flicking to Sophie before returning to the Doctor, "We'll see," she murmured as she reached up with her free hand and swiftly pulled some hairs from the Doctor's head and pulled her wrist free of his hold, backing away, clutching the stolen hairs in her hand.

"What did you do?" the Doctor asked as he fingered the spot she'd pulled out his hair.

"Souvenir," the witch replied, flourishing the hairs she'd stolen from him.

"Well, give it back!" the Doctor demanded.

The witch threw up her arms and the window behind her opened. She flew backwards out into the night sky as the Doctor moved towards her, Sophie rushing forward herself.

"Well… that's just cheating!" the Doctor groused as Sophie joined him at the windowsill, the both of them staring up at the Carrionite.

"I don't think she cares," Sophie murmured in reply, watching as the witch fiddled with her black dress.

"Behold, Doctor!" the witch called as she pulled out a doll, wrapping his hair about it, "Men to Carrionites are nothing but puppets."

On the floor Martha stirred as consciousness slowly returned.

"Now, you might call that magic…" the Doctor said as he eyed the doll, "I'd call that a DNA replication module."

"What use is your science now?" the witch sneered a moment before stabbing the doll and the Doctor let out a sharp cry of pain as he collapsed to the floor.

"Doctor!" Sophie exclaimed with alarm, kneeling down beside him as the witch cackled gleefully and flew off into the night.

"Oh my God!" Martha gasped scrambling over to them, "Doctor!" she called as she helped Sophie to roll the Time Lord onto his back, "Don't worry, we've got you."

"He's ok," Sophie murmured softly, smoothing her gloved fingers over his hairline as she brushed her mind against the Doctor's, feeling the familiar warmth of it against her own, "I can feel him."

Martha who'd moved to listen to his hearts, looked up at her, quirking her brows up at Sophie curiously, "How?" she asked, a suspicion forming.

Sophie glanced up at her, her eyes a bit wide as her mind raced as she formed a reply to the question.

"'Ok' isn't how I'd put it, Sparks," the Doctor muttered, before Sophie had even finished taking a breath to begin speaking, opening his eyes to look up at them.

Martha frowning slightly even as she felt relief at seeing him with his eyes open, unable to help but feel that he'd timed that deliberately.

"I got stabbed via a DNA replication module," the Doctor continued with another grimace, it had been rather unpleasant.

Sophie nodded, "I just meant, you're alive," she murmured, eyeing him with concern.

"That I am," he smirked and got to his feet only to very nearly fall, "Aahh!" he exclaimed as Sophie and Martha grabbed him, each supporting a side, "I've only got one heart working. How do you people cope?" he demanded as he grimaced in pain, "I've got to get the other one started. Hit me!" he demanded, "Hit me on the chest!" and Martha did, giving him a solid wack, "Aah!" the Doctor yelled in pain, "Other side!" Sophie hit the other side of his chest, "Now, on the back!" he leaned forward pained noises escaping his throat as he did so, "On the back!" and he let out a grunt as a solid hit landed on his back, "Left a bit!" another blow, "Ahh," he smiled, straightening up, "Lovely. There we go! Ba-da-boom! Well," he turned, looking at them both, a brow arching, "What you are standing there for?" he asked them and Sophie arched a brow right back at him, lips quirking upwards into a bit of a grin, "Come on! The Globe!" he shouted, grasping Sophie's hand as he turned and ran for the door.

Whilst Martha shook her head as perplexed as she was amused. She darted after them with a wide grin, following the pair back through the curtained door, down the stairs and back out onto the street.

*O*O*O*

"The Doctor?" Doomfinger asked as Lilith joined her and Bloodtide in the box.

"Dead," Lilith replied with a smirk, her gaze going down to the stage as one of the actors on it announced.

"The ladies have prepared a show. Maria means to present Isis descending from the dewy orb of Heaven," the actor glanced over as one of his fellow actors stepped out, joining him on the stage once more, "Ah, here comes Costard."

The audience cheered enthusiastically and the actor playing Costard bowed, "Masters!"

*O*O*O*

The Doctor, Sophie and Martha ran through the streets, the Time Lord taking a right and Sophie blinked looking around with a bit of a frown, "Oh, hold on…!"

"No time, Sparks!" the Doctor called back, not hesitating in his run, hand tightening slightly about Sophie's gloved one as he felt her slow her pace.

"We're going the wrong way!" Martha shouted to him in the next instant, having also been glancing about the street.

"No, we're not!" the Doctor contradicted, running on.

"Yes, we are!" Sophie rebutted.

"No we're…" the Doctor began to refute again only to trail, jerking to a halt as he eyed the street they were running down. Ah. He spun on his heel and dashed back the way he'd come as he shouted, "We're going the wrong way!"

*O*O*O*

"Behold the swainish sight of woman's love," one of the actors on the stage recited his lines, acting them out, "Pish!" he scoffed, "It's out of season to be heavy disposed."

"It is now, my mothers," Lilith murmured with anticipation, "The final words to activate the tetradecagon."

"Betwixt Dravidian shores," the actor continued, "And Linear 5-9-3-0-6-7.02 and strikes the fulsome grove of Rexel 4. Co-radiating crystal, activate!"

"The portal opens," Lilith exclaimed giddily as a wind blew through the theatre, "It begins!" the three Carrionites cackled as the orb Bloodtide was holding activated a red swirling energy shooting out it, soaring high above the audience.

*O*O*O*

Screams echoed out onto the street from the theatre, and the Doctor, Sophie and Martha paused in their run as they took in the red energy pouring from the Globe, something like thunderclouds forming in it.

"I told thee so!" the preacher cried, "I told thee!"

"Stage door!" the Doctor shouted to his companions before dashing off, Sophie's hand tightening about his as she and Martha swiftly followed him as a flash of lightening clapped through the red energy.

*O*O*O*

The trio burst in backstage, eyes landing on Shakespeare as he came too blinking dazedly at them as he rubbed at his head.

"Stop the play!" the Doctor exclaimed sarcastically, "I think that was it. Yeah," he nodded, "I said, stop the play!"

"You alright?" Sophie asked concerned, as Shakespeare winced as his hand roved over a tender spot on his scalp.

"I hit my head," Shakespeare mumbled, wincing again, rubbing at the spot, where he could perhaps feel a small bump forming.

"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald," the Doctor muttered, before their attention was drawn by loud terrified screams that were coming from behind a curtain that led out onto the stage, "I think that's my cue!"

The Time Lord ran for the stage, Sophie following him, Martha pausing just long enough to grab Shakespeare by the hand, helping up before they hurried after the pair. The four bursting out onto it as the Carroinites rejoiced in the terror of the mortals, trapped and panicking below them.

"Now begins the millennium of blood!" the Carrionites cried, before the three burst into shrieking cackles.

"The Doctor!" Lilith exclaimed with a gasp, surprised as she spied the man on the stage as he stood with the wordsmith and the two women that were out of time, "He lives! Then watch this world become a blasted heath!" she yelled, before holding up the glowing crystal to the red crackling energy, "They come! They come!"

"Oh bugger!" Sophie breathed, horrified, as the remaining Carrionites soared out of the glowing crystal and into the air above them, circling as they rose higher their voices high and piercing as they cackled and screeched.

"I don't really think 'bugger' quite covers it," Martha commented, her own horrified gaze locked on the flying creatures.

"No," Sophie agreed, swallowing, it really didn't, but it was the only 'curse' like word that hadn't gotten her boxed about the ears by those running the orphanage, and she hadn't managed to shake the habit, had never really tried.

The Doctor tore his gaze from the sight and turned to Shakespeare, "Come on, Will!" he grabbed him, pulling him towards the centre of the stage, "History needs you!"

"But what can I do?" Shakespeare asked, shaking his head in protest to the expectant look he was receiving from the man.

"Reverse it!" the Doctor exclaimed.

Shakespeare eyed him, before glancing up at the Carrionites above and then back again, "How am I supposed to do that?"

"The shape of the Globe gives words power," the Doctor explained, speaking quickly, "But you're the wordsmith, the one true genius. The only man clever enough to do it."

"But what words?" Shakespeare protested staring at the Doctor with alarm, "I have none ready!" he cried.

"You're William Shakespeare!" the Doctor shouted.

"But these Carrionite phrases, they need such precision," Shakespeare replied, not at all comforted by the Doctor's confidence in his abilities.

"Trust yourself," the Doctor urged, placing his hands on the man shoulders, "When you're locked away in your room, the words just come, don't they? Like magic. Words of the right sound, the right shape, the right rhythm. Words that last forever! That's what you do, Will! You choose perfect words. Do it. Improvise!"

Shakespeare blinked, but nodded and took a step forward, eyes going up to the Carrionites above once more, "Close up this din of hateful, dire decay! Decomposition of your witches' plot! You thieve my brains, consider me your toy. My doting Doctor tells me I am not!"

"No!" Lilith shrieked, "Words of power!"

"Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points…" he trailed and glanced over at the Doctor.

"7-6-1-3-9-0!" the Time Lord supplied.

"7-6-1-3-9-0!" Shakespeare turned back to the swirling vortex of energy, "Banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee…" he trailed once more, eyes going back to the Doctor, at a loss as to what should come next.

"Expelliarmus!" Martha cried the first thing that popped into her head as the silence stretched.

"Expelliarmus!" Sophie agreed.

"Expellairmus!" the Doctor laughed.

"Expelliarmus!" Shakespeare shouted as he turned once more to the vortex.

"Good old JK!" the Doctor grinned as the Carrionites screamed and screeched in alarm above them.

"The deep darkness!" Lilith cried as the Carrionites were sucked back into the swirling energy, "They are consumed!" she screamed, the pages of the play sucked up into the swirling energy as well.

"'Love's Labours Won'. There is goes," the Doctor murmured as they watched. The cloud of energy starting to disperse, sucked back down into the crystal, with a flash of light and a bang. Silence reigned for a few moments, before someone in the crowd started clapping, soon followed by the rest of the audience.

"They think it was all special effects," Martha commented glancing over at the Doctor, a small flare of jealousy stirring at seeing that the Doctor had pulled Sophie into a hug, dropping a kiss into her hair. Martha stomped down on the emotion with ruthless determination, chasing it away and smiled slightly instead, as the brunette blushed, before turning her eyes from the applauding audience to the Doctor, lips moving as she mumbled something that Martha couldn't hear, but it made the Doctor give a careless shrug as he smiled at her affectionately.

"Your effect is special indeed," Shakespeare flirted drawing Martha's eyes to him as he winked at her.

"It's not your best line," Martha commented with a bit of a laugh as Shakespeare took her hand in his leading her forward with the actors and into a bow. Whilst the Doctor shifted, taking Sophie by the hand as he moved towards the stage exit. The petite brunette gladly following him, having started to get fairly uncomfortable under the eyes of the cheering and enthusiastically clapping audience.

The Doctor led her up into the viewing box that the Carrionites had occupied, their gazes landing on the glowing crystal. The Time Lord released Sophie's hand as he bent down picking it up, the two peering into it to see the three Carrionites that had escaped in the first place staring back at them, screaming in a fury.

*O*O*O*

The Doctor glanced at Sophie as they walked around the back areas of the Globe Theatre the next morning, "You alright?" he asked as he took in the brooding frown that was scrunching her brow once again.

Sophie glanced at him, "Yeah," she nodded looking ahead again, "Just thinking," she muttered, before she let out a soft sigh and looked at him again, lips curving into a small smile that was tinged with sadness, "I've always wondered what my parents named me, what I'd be called if they'd lived. I guess, what the Carrionite said," she frowned, pausing, "It just, made me wonder again… And I just…" she trailed again and shrugged a little helplessly, "Well, I guess I'll probably never know," she mumbled and shook her head, trying to clear it of the unhelpful thoughts about a name that she couldn't recall.

The Doctor paused in his stride, his eyes widening as a thought struck him, one so obvious that he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before, "Sparks…?"

Sophie stopped and turned to him, eyeing him questioningly, "Yeah?"

The Doctor hesitated a brief moment as his eyes met hers, not wanting to get her hopes up in case he was mistaken, but he forged a head, because there was a chance… possibly a very good chance if he knew humans and he liked to think that he did, "That photo album?" she blinked at him, brow furrowing again, "The one your parallel parents gave you…" Sophie's eyes began to widen her heart picking up speed as she started to follow his train of thought, "Did you ever think to check the back of the photos?"

He flinched in the next moment as the palm of Sophie's hand smacked against her forehead with a resounding smack, "Oi!" he cried startled, and reached for her, pulling her hand away to reveal a red mark.

"Ow," Sophie mumbled with a tiny grimace, even as her mind continued to whirl with just how much of a bleedin' dunce she was. Why hadn't she ever thought of that?! She blinked, pulled out of her thoughts by the Doctor once more as she felt him press his lips to the reddened skin that was tingling a little as it stung mildly. His arms coming up to hold her, hands resting on her lower back, "You going to that often?" Sophie mumbled as she felt herself blush.

The Doctor pulled back from the tender kiss he'd placed on her brow directly over the abused skin and arched a brow at her, "Issue?"

Sophie shook her head immediately, blushing heavier as she replied, "No," she liked his kisses. She just wished that she didn't blush like a tomato practically every time he did!

The Doctor smirked foxily, his arms tightening around her as she leaned into him, he hadn't thought that there would be. He held her a moment longer, before sliding his arms from around her, taking her hand instead, "Come on," he urged staring off again, grinning over his shoulder at her, taking in her still red cheeks. He really did love being able to make her blush, "There's still one place we haven't checked."

*O*O*O*

"And I say," Shakespeare continued, his hand holding Martha's as they sat together on the edge of the stage, "A heart for hart and a dear for a deer."

Martha smiled lightly, "I don't get it," she admitted.

"Then," Shakespeare laughed lightly, "Tell me a joke from Freedonia."

"Ok," Martha nodded, pausing briefly as she thought of one, "Shakespeare walks into a pub and the landlord says, 'oi, mate, you're bard'."

"It's brilliant!" he laughed again, "Doesn't make sense, mind you, but never mind that," he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him, "Come here."

"I've only just met you," Martha commented as she eyed him, the light smile still playing around her lips.

"The Doctor may never kiss you," Shakespeare murmured not unkindly, though Martha's smile still fell slightly as she repressed a grimace. Had she really been that obvious about her little crush? She truly hoped not. The sooner she crushed the thing into nonexistence the better, "Why not entertain a man who will?"

"I don't know how to tell you this, oh great genius," Martha began, nose crinkling slightly as his breath washed softly over her face, "But your breath doesn't half stink."

"Good props store back there," the Doctor remarked as he and Sophie stepped out onto the stage, entering through the stage door. The Time Lord wearing a small stiff ruff about his neck and holding an animal skull in his hand, whilst Sophie stifled giggles as her eyes drifted to the ruff about his neck, helplessly amused by it, despite having been there when he'd put it on, "I'm not sure about this though," he held up the skull, "Reminds me of a Sycorax," he mused.

"It does a bit," Sophie agreed, the amused smile fading from her face as she eyed the skull in his hand again.

"Sycorax," Shakespeare murmured musingly, "Nice word," he decided, "I'll have that off you as well."

"I should be on ten percent," the Doctor commented airily, "How's your head?"

"Still aching," Shakespeare replied with a bit of a grimace as his mind returned to his throbbing head.

"Here," the Doctor took off the neck ruff he was wearing, "I got you this," he and put it around Shakespeare's neck, "Neck brace. Wear that for few days till it's better, although you might wanna keep it, it suits you."

Sophie and Martha exchanged an amused look at that, the medical students gaze going to the lingering red mark on Sophie's forehead, "What have you done to yourself there?" she gestured as Sophie blinked at her, blue eyes a tad confused, "It sort of looks like you ran into a door knob or something."

"Oh," Sophie murmured, before continuing on in a bit of an embarrassed mumbled that Martha couldn't quite make out.

"What?"

"I hit myself," Sophie repeated a bit louder.

"What for?" Martha asked brows arching.

"'Cos I'm a dunce," Sophie muttered, hand tangling into the ends of her hair.

"An adorable dunce," the Doctor commented lightly.

Sophie felt her cheeks burn once more and she turned to the Time Lord, "Foxy Git!" she huffed without any real heat as she caught sight of his warm teasing grin. She was beginning to think that he was deliberately trying to get her to blush… her eyes narrowed slightly as his grin turned into a bit of a smirk, she wouldn't put it past him, the git.

Martha smiled, honestly, despite her crush, they were rather cute together, "What about the play?" she asked after a moment.

"Gone," the Doctor replied, "We looked all over. Every single copy of 'Love's Labours Won' went up in the sky."

"My lost masterpiece," Shakespeare lamented.

"Sorry," Sophie murmured, fingers tangling into the ends of her hair as she tried to will the last of the heat from her cheeks.

"You could write it up again," Martha suggested.

"Yeah, better not, Will," the Doctor interjected, "There's still power in those words. Maybe it should best stay forgotten."

"Oh, but I've got new ideas," Shakespeare declared with a smile, "Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons, in memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet."

Martha blinked, brows rising, "Hamnet?"

"That's him," Shakespeare nodded.

"Ham-net?" Martha repeated with another blink.

"What's wrong with that?" Shakespeare questioned, mildly offended.

"Anyway," the Doctor cut in quickly as Sophie glanced away fingers idly curling the ends of her hair about them, "Time we were off. I've got a nice attic in the Tardis where this lot," he picked up the crystal containing the Carronites, "Can scream for all eternity, and we've gotta take Martha back to Freedonia."

Martha's gaze shot to him, disappointment hitting her rather forcefully, before she looked away again. Whilst Sophie looked down at the stage floor, brow scrunching slightly, disappointed herself, but it wasn't her decision. It was his Tardis after all, his home. She was just… rooming? She blinked as she thought about it. She actually was kind of homeless, wasn't she? She had a room in the Tardis, but no actual home… not really, no place to call her own on Earth, not anymore… she blinked again, though, she kind of liked to think of the Tardis as her home. It certainly felt like home, but that was kind of presumptuous, wasn't it?

"You mean travel on through time and space," Shakespeare corrected, snapping Sophie out of her thoughts as she gaped at him.

"Eh?" she muttered, wide-eyed.

"You… what?" the Doctor blinked gaping, stunned himself.

"You're from another world like the Carrionites," Shakespeare stated with certainty, "And Martha and Sophie are from the future," he smiled at them and shrugged as they stared brows raised, "It's not hard to work out."

"That's… incredible," the Doctor murmured, shock fading into awe, "You are incredible."

"We are alike in many ways, Doctor," Shakespeare murmured before he turned his eyes to Sophie, "Sophie it's been a pleasure," he inclined his head, before he turned to Martha, grinning, "Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse," he took her hand in his, "A sonnet for my Dark Lady," the Doctor blinked and then grinned, "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate…"

"Will!" one of the actors called as he and one of his fellows ran in from the street, drawing the fours attention.

"Will, you'll never believe it, She's here! She's turned up!" the second actor exclaimed, slightly out of breath.

"We're the talk of the town," the first continued, "She heard about last night! She wants us to perform it again."

"Who?" Martha asked.

"Her Majesty!" came the excited reply and Sophie's eyes widened, "She's here!" their gazes shot to the door as fanfare erupted.

"Queen Elizabeth the First!" the Doctor grinned as Her Majesty strolled in two pikemen either side of her.

Elizabeth the First stilled as her eyes landed on the giddy with excitement Doctor, her eyes narrowed in recognition, "Doctor?"

The Doctor stilled surprised and Sophie pulled her gaze from the Queen that had started to bristle to glance at him, "What?"

"My sworn enemy!" Elizabeth the First declared and Sophie's eyes widened in alarm, her gaze shooting back and forth.

"What?" the Doctor repeated stunned.

"Off with his head!" Elizabeth the First shouted the order.

"What?" the Doctor repeated as the pikemen ran forward.

"Never mind 'what', just run!" Martha shouted with alarm, "See you, Will, and thanks!"

Sophie nodded, turning quickly to the playwright, "Yeah, thanks for everything, and bye!" she exclaimed, before she and Martha grabbed at the Doctor's arms, the two pulling the stunned Time Lord into motion, "What is it with you and monarchy?!" Sophie exclaimed as they raced across the stage towards the stage exit and behind them Shakespeare laughed as the pikemen chased the three out onto the streets of Southwark.

"Stop that pernicious, Doctor!" Elizabeth the First demanded vehemently, hands fisting in her heavy skirts.

*O*O*O*

"Stop in the name of the Queen!" one of the pikemen called as the three fled through the street, running for the Tardis.

"What have you done to upset her?" Martha called as they approached the Tardis, relief filling her at the sight of it.

"How should I know?" the Doctor shrugged, "Haven't even met her yet! That's time travel for you. Still, can't wait to find out," he grinned.

"Only you!" Sophie groaned, shaking her head as he unlocked the Tardis and she darted inside after Martha.

"That's something to look forward to," he continued to grin, looking back, his eyes widening, "Oooh!" he slammed the door shut, an arrow embedding into the door with a solid thud. The three dashed for the console and a moment later archers, pikemen and alarmed but curious urchins watched stunned as the large strange blue box that they hadn't paid any attention too before dematerialised from sight with a groaning wheeze.

*O*O*O*

Sophie beamed a wide excited grin any exasperation she'd felt moments ago fading away to nothing as the Tardis entered the time vortex. She glanced at the Doctor who smiled at her knowingly before she turned from the console and dashed towards the stairs, swiftly disappearing up them and out of sight. The sound of her footsteps rapidly fading as she ran along the familiar corridors of the sentient ship.

Martha blinked after her, brows quirking at her swift and sudden exit, "Where's she off too?" she wondered aloud.

The Doctor looked away from the stairs to her, "To find a name in a photo album," he murmured and looked down at the console, fiddling with the knobs and switches. Hoping that he'd been right, that she would find the name, her name, on the back of them and nervous that he was wrong, that he'd gotten her hopes up for nothing.

"A name?" Martha blinked at him.

The Doctor glanced up at her again, and nodded, "If you wanna know more," he murmured, "You'd have to ask, Sparks."

Martha nodded slightly in acceptance of the answer, before she glanced away from him again. She let out a low sigh and she stepped away from the console and sank down quietly into one of the chairs, disappointment gnawing as home loomed. Her eyes went back to the stairs as the Doctor went back to fiddling with the console, his ears straining for the sound of Sophie's return to the console room.

*O*O*O*

Sophie dashed into her room, not bothering to shut the door behind her as she hurried over to the bookcase, her eyes on the spine of the photo album that was sploshed with purple. She pulled it down, sinking down into the chair at her age worn vanity, flicking through the first few pages of the album her parallel parents had compiled for her until she got to the photo of parallel baby her, cuddled between her parents.

She reached for it, fingers trembling with nervous excitement as she carefully removed it from its spot. She stared at it a moment, just gazing at the image, before she turned it around, her teeth nibbling her lower lip as she revealed the back of the photo. Her eyes widened and her heart seemed to freeze for a moment in her chest as she took in the feminine writing on the back of it, her parallel mothers she guessed. She beamed a positively giddy grin as her gaze swept over the writing taking in the words… the year the photo was taken. Her father's name. Her mother's name. And then finally hers…