A/N: I wonder if any of you noticed the major revelation coming up? Let's see how up to scratch your poetry knowledge is. Many thanks to the wonderful reviewers, especially to those who have reviewed multiple times: DoctorPeeves, Sunsetsoccer, Guest, beccaspad, Zarelyn, shtoops, iheartblueconverse, Valerie E. Mackin, Naenae12 and GryffindorGrl97. This chapter is short, guys, but it has a lot of clues that I needed to prepare for the next chapter. By the end of the next chapter, you're all going to hate me a little bit. Actually, maybe more than a little bit.

Chapter Ten: The Clues are in the Poetry

Rose helped Benjamin as he tried to clean up. She collected all of the glasses she could find and dumped them in the kitchen while Benjamin piled up the scattered papers covering the carpet. Afterwards, she made him sit on the armchair as she found a hairbrush and started combing out his haggard hair. He was looking much better already. The Doctor was still sitting on the sofa staring into oblivion as he appeared to be deep in thought. However, now and again he would moodily glance over to Rose and Benjamin as she tried to help the young man fix himself up, and then look away again, a deeper frown on his face than before.

The sun was now above the horizon as Friday the 23rd of December came into life. Tomorrow, not only was Christmas Eve, but the day the murderer would strike again, and if their predictions were correct, whoever it was would be visiting Benjamin's doorstep.

Except, they wouldn't – what was it Waters had said? All of the victims were found on the same spot in Justice Street. In that little alleyway leading down into the secret dungeon department. So, for now, the next question for the Doctor was: why and how do the victims get to be there?

Perhaps the murderer is incapable of travel and it lures its victims to their own death. Maybe it uses some hypnotic spell and knows it can control the evidence in a small little alleyway on an abandoned street, rather than searching to find the victim. But then, why was Benjamin's house circled in the newspaper? They were missing something; something big.

"Benjamin," the Doctor announced to the room. "You've investigated these murders, haven't you?"

He looked up from watching Rose in the mirror. "Yes, I have. I needed to. I wanted to know what kind of person – or thing – was coming after me next."

"So you're not, like, scared that it mightn't be human or anything?" Rose asked, looking down at him.

He shook his head. "Not at all. My father was Jonathan Primrose, the man who practically lived and breathed anything extraordinary. I grew up with bedtime stories involving extra-terrestrials and the idea of time travel. It became the norm."

The Doctor smirked and caught Rose's eye. She was beaming at him, sticking her tongue out teasingly. The Doctor responded with a wink, but lowered his voice as he asked a more serious question. "What did you find about how all the killings came to be in Justice Street? Surely there was something."

"There wasn't much to go on. My father was the only person who suggested they were lured to the location. Seen something they just had to follow. As if a powerful spell had been cast upon them."

Hmm. That caught the Doctor's attention. He envisaged the dungeon in his mind and searched the room for little details of some sort of mind control. He could see the shelves holding an assortment of jars, which in turn, held an assortment of horrible concoctions. Was that something similar to blood he could see? Also, that large glass of clear green liquid looked strangely familiar to something he had seen before; lardinour acid. A substance banned on some planets because it gives the user powerful hallucinations.

"Those jars we saw in the dungeon, Rose, what if they were ingredients? What if the murderer is using them to control the mind of the next victim? Leading them straight to Justice Street and straight to its lair like a moth to a light bulb!" the Doctor shouted out, in revelation. He turned to Benjamin and grinned. "Oh, you're dad was smart!"

Benjamin sat forward on his seat, his eyebrows pulled together. "What? What dungeon?"

"The Doctor and I – we found a secret dungeon type thing hidden in Justice Street, at the scene of the crimes," answered Rose. "It had shelves full of mysterious jars and a table with the names of all the victims, including the next ones. That's how we found you. If it wasn't for me dropping that Bronte book by accident, we would've been on a wild chase around London trying to guess who the next target would be."

The Doctor nodded, absentmindedly, his mind still searching for more details. But something Rose had said didn't make sense. His eyes widened and he jumped to his feet. He was over to Rose in an instant. "Bronte book? What Bronte book?"

Rose frowned, a little concerned by his reaction. "Back in the dungeon there was a Bronte book on the table and I accidentally knocked it over. When I went to pick it up again I noticed the newspaper circling Benjamin's name. Remember?"

"Yes, but you never mentioned a Bronte book!" the Doctor exclaimed. "What did it say, Rose? This is very important. What did it say?"

"It just said 'The Bronte's' and something about a selection of their poetry. It meant the Bronte sisters, right?"

The Doctor grabbed Rose's hand as the new revelation came to life. "Rose," he said, very slowly. "Charlotte Bronte, the oldest sister, isn't born until 1816. It's 1809, Rose. How could a book containing a selection of their poetry be in a dungeon in 1809 when they haven't even been born yet?"

"Oh," said Rose, quietly, but then her eyes widened as she realised what this meant. "Oh!"

She grabbed his arms as they hung onto each other, their faces mirroring the exact same expression.

"That means –"

"We've got a time traveller!"

As they both laughed in glee and joy, Benjamin stared at them incredulously, as if he had not witnessed something so incredibly weird. He spun around in his chair, his eyes flicking between the pair, trying to catch up with their conversation. Had they mentioned time travel? Something about poetry from 1816? Someone who hadn't been born yet?

"If I may interrupt," Benjamin began, raising his voice over the laughter. "What on earth are you talking about?"

While the Doctor stood, beaming, Rose let her smile drop as she leaned against the chair to get a better look at Benjamin. She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes and Benjamin found he couldn't look anywhere but into her face.

"We're sort of… time travellers," Rose explained, badly, "we are from the future. The twenty-first century, actually. Are you okay with that?"

Benjamin gaped. It was one thing for him to listen to his father's mad stories, but another for them to be true. Perhaps they were mocking him. But the more he thought about the pair, the more they didn't make sense and he found himself – against his own sanity – actually believing that is was possible. Benjamin stood up, his handsome face quizzical, only to find his legs failed him and he had to sit down again. When he next glanced at Rose, she was smiling, but in such a way that she was clearly amused and he couldn't help but stuttering out a response.

"Are you – are you… are you…" he couldn't think what to say. "Are you sure?"

Rose gave a delighted laugh while placing two supportive hands on both of his shoulders. "We're quite sure, yeah."

Benjamin sighed and rubbed his eyes. For his own sake, as he tried to come to terms with it, he asked, "How?"

"We have this big blue box which is bigger on the inside and it can take us anywhere in time and space," Rose told him, as if she was in awe, "imagine it, Benjamin. Anywhere."

He was now staring at the Doctor who was staring at Rose, and to him, it seemed the man didn't care as much as Rose about how their ship could travel 'anywhere' so long she was by his side. Benjamin had never seen someone more besotted than the man with no name.

"Not a bad life," said Benjamin. "Anywhere and anytime and you choose London in 1809?"

It was the Doctor's turn to step forward. "The TARDIS – that's our ship – chose the location for us. She must've wanted to help you and Elizabeth, Benjamin, because she landed on your sister's street."

Benjamin snorted. "On Lady Carson's street, you mean. Her house would never be a home to my sister. She's never been particularly fussed on Lady Carson."

"Why's that?"

"Probably because Lady Carson moved here two years ago, just before our mother died. When she and father became friends, I think Elizabeth thought Lady Carson wanted to be a replacement for our mother. It wasn't true, of course, but the resentment stayed."

That sparked a memory in Rose's mind. She spun around to face the Doctor, hands on hips and eyes narrowed. He immediately smiled when he recognised her 'deducting' face. "Lady Carson told us Elizabeth hadn't spoken since her father moved to Africa, but Benjamin here is saying she hasn't uttered a word since their mother died. Why would she lie?"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows; a little shocked he hadn't picked up on this sooner. "Good point, Rose. Very good point."

Just then a flicker of movement outside the living room window caught Benjamin's attention. As the Doctor and Rose muttered to each other, Benjamin went to look outside the window. A short and stocky little man in a blue metal suit with brown skin and a massive spherical head was wandering about outside holding some sort of flashing device. Benjamin jumped back in horror at the sight of such a creature. His hand grasped the curtain to keep himself from falling over.

"Benjamin, what is it?"

"Out there – there's a – a thing!"

Rose and the Doctor rushed over to the window. The little alien was now walking up the steps to Benjamin's house. Rose frowned and turned to the Doctor, her eyes scanning his face to judge his reaction. His face was twisted between a mixture of surprise and confusion with just a dash of fear.

Breaking the silence, the Doctor asked incredulously, "What the hell is a sontaran doing in 1809?"