Drake W. Loba, thanks for the tips and encouragement about writer's block!

As far as your question about Ianto being a bit novice-like, here are my thoughts on why I chose to write him the way I did. He's been very blase about the Doctor's habits and the situations they end up in, but he's basically acting like an old hand when he's only been a companion for a week and a half. At the moment he really is a novice, and the flippancy is only part of his mask while he's still trying to come to terms with everything. Now, the wiki said he was a researcher at TW1, and beyond that I don't really know what all he did, so you may be right in that he'd have some knowledge of different aliens. That said, reading about something in files is very different from actually experiencing it, and the Doctor is basically showing him that Torchwood had everything wrong when it came to life on other planets. Hope this helps clear things up; it made since in my head.

Thoughts, reviews and comments are always appreciated. Understatement, they're as addicting as Ianto's coffee.


Back in Shakespeare's lodgings, the Doctor was pacing again, and lecturing, again.

"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe. Nobody was sure if they were real or legend."

"Well, I'm going for real," Shakespeare commented.

"But what do they want?" Martha asked.

"A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."

"Perpetual Halloween," Ianto said calmly. "Sounds like fun. But how?"

"I'm looking at the man with the words," the Doctor said pointedly at Shakespeare.

"Me? But I've done nothing."

"Hold on, though." Martha followed the Doctor's gaze. "What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?"

"Finishing the play." All three of them stared.

"What happens on the last page?"

"The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual — except those last few lines." His eyes widened a bit. "Funny thing is... I don't actually remember writing them."

"That's it. They used you," the Doctor breathed. "They gave you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. 'Love's Labours Won' — it's a weapon!" His eyes took on the maniacal gleam. Ianto knew they'd be running again soon. "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 finished triumphantly, before spinning around. "And yes, you can have that."

The four of them pored over a map of the surrounding area.

"All Hallows Street. There it is. Martha, Ianto, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!"

"I'll do it." Shakespeare smiled and shook the Doctor's hand. "All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."

"Mind the ego," Ianto muttered under his breath.

"Oh, don't complain," Martha said out loud.

"I'm not. It's marvellous. Good luck, Doctor."

"Good luck, Shakespeare." The three of them ran for the door and the Doctor called out, "Once more unto the breach!"

"I like that! Wait a minute... that's one of mine." The Doctor poked his head back round the door.

"Oh, just shift!"


"All Hallows Street, but which house?" the Doctor thought aloud as they ran through yet another alleyway towards their destination.

"The thing is, though... am I missing something here?" Martha protested as he gazed around the street. "The world didn't end in 1599. It just didn't. Look at me and Ianto — living proof."

"Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux? I know! 'Back to the Future'! It's like 'Back to the Future'!"

"The film?" she clarified.

"No, the novelisation," he said acidly. "Yes, the film. Marty McFly goes back and changes history."

"And he starts fading away," she continued, then looked alarmed. "Oh my God, we're gonna fade?"

"You and the entire future of the human race." Gone was the irritation. Now he was intent and severe. "It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it. But which house?" A horse whinnied off to the right and a door creaked open. "Ah, make that witchhouse." Martha gave the Doctor a look that said 'are you serious?' Ianto offered her a light smile.

"End of the human race one moment, bad puns the next, he certainly does know how to keep you on your toes." Martha shook her head resignedly and they followed him into the house. The interior was all very appropriate, Ianto thought. Flickering candles, a cauldron perched over a pile of wood, cobwebs on the walls and what looked like dead rats hanging from racks. He wasn't terribly surprised to see the pretty maid, Lilith, from the inn, watching their approach. The Doctor looked unperturbed.

"I take it we're expected."

"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time," Lilith said coolly. Martha stepped forward confidently.

"Right then, it's my turn. I know how to do this." Martha pointed at her."I name thee, Carrionite!" Lilith gasped, but then gave a little snicker, unaffected. "What did I do wrong? Was it the finger?"

"The power of a name works only once. Observe. I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones."

Ianto choked hoarsely and caught Martha as she fell to the ground. "What have you done?" he growled.

"Only sleeping, alas." He breathed a sigh of relief as she continued. "Curious, the name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time." The Doctor helped Ianto lower Martha to the wooden floor, and the Welshman stood forward, glaring daggers at her.

"I name thee, Lilith," he retaliated, his accent thick and husky with anger.

The Carrionite looked almost pleased. "Such a clever, clever boy. And yet her fate shall be your own, now join in slumber, Ianto Jones." Ianto staggered, dazed, slumping next to Martha. The words had had even less impact on him than Martha, thanks to his training with mental barriers, but it still felt like a physical blow. "And as for you, Sir Doctor!" Lilith pointed at him, then froze. "Fascinating. There is no name. Why would a man hide his title in such despair?" The Doctor stared at her, still kneeling beside Martha and Ianto. "Oh, but look," she said silkily. "There's still one word with the power that aches."

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

"But your heart grows cold. The north wind blows and carries down the distant... Rose."

"Oh, big mistake." He rose to full height and advanced. "'Cause that name keeps me fighting! The Carrionites vanished! Where did you go?" he demanded.

"The Eternals found the right word to banish us into deep darkness," she said haughtily, spinning around and stalking a few paces away.

"And how did you escape?"

"New words. New, glittering, from a mind like no other."

"Shakespeare."

Her eyes flicked to an image floating in the bubbling cauldron. "His son perished. The grief of a genius. Grief without measure. Madness enough to allow us entrance."

"How many of you?"

"Just the three. But the play tonight shall restore the rest. Then the human race will be purged as pestilence. And from this world we will lead the universe back to the old ways of blood and magic."

"Hmm... busy schedule," he said casually, stepping towards her. "But first you gotta get past me."

"Oh, that should be a pleasure," she purred. "Considering my enemy has such a handsome shape." She grazed her cheek against his jaw and twirled her fingers in his hair. He stood there, unruffled.

"Now, that's one form of magic that's definitely not gonna work on me."

"Oh, we'll see." A soft click, and she scampered away with a lock of hair between her fingers.

"What did you do?"

"Souvenir." She waved the snippet of hair tauntingly.

"Well, give it back!" He started forward, but she spread her arms and cloak. The windows burst open and she soared backwards, suspended out of reach. "Well, that's just cheating."

"Behold, Doctor. Men to Carrionites are nothing but... puppets." She yanked a makeshift doll from under her cloak and wrapped the hair around it.

"Now, you might call that magic... I'd call that a DNA replication module." Ianto stirred and tried to shift himself out of his frozen daze. He rolled slowly onto his knees, trying not to attract notice, whilst nudging Martha awake. The Carrionite's attentions remained on the Doctor.

"What use is your science now?" She pierced the doll with a needle, and flew into the night, cackling. The Doctor gave a ragged cry and fell to the ground. Martha was on her feet in an instant, rushing to his side. Ianto pulled himself after her.

"Oh my God! Doctor! Don't worry, I've got you." Martha rolled him onto his back and pressed an ear to his chest. "Hold on, mister. Two hearts?"

"You're making a habit of this," he said blithely, trying to launch himself to his feet, only to give another strangled yell, stumbling as Martha and Ianto caught him on each side. "I've only got one heart working. How do you people cope?" His face was twisted into a pained grimace. "I've got to get the other one started. Hit me! Hit me on the chest!" Ianto obliged, thumping him firmly. He yelled, and protested, "Other side!" Martha hit him on her side. "Ow! On the back! On the back!" He slumped forward and Martha hit him again."Left a bit! Ahh, lovely!" He stood straight, bones cracking. Ianto grinned in relief. "There we go! Ba-da-boom!" He barely spared them a glance. "Well, what are you standing there for? Come on! The Globe!"

They ran. As usual. Until, as one, Ianto and Martha skidded to a halt.

"The map -"

"Yeah. We're going the wrong way!" Martha yelled ahead.

"No, we're not!" the Doctor insisted, pressing on.

"Aren't we?" Martha faltered, looking to Ianto, who stopped in the middle of the street and pulled out his stopwatch. Precisely eight seconds later, the tan coat flapped like a great pair of wings back in his direction, accompanied by a yell of "We're going the wrong way!"

A cyclone of red smoke swirled above the Globe Theater as people ran, vacating the streets. The priest that had accosted them earlier shouted in a mad triumph, "I told thee so! I told thee!"

"Stage door!" the Doctor shouted, and the three of them ran for the Globe. They skittered through the back hall and burst into the antechamber where Shakespeare was slouched and only just coming into consciousness.

"Stop the play! I think that was it. Yeah, I said, "Stop the play"! the Doctor berated him.

"I hit my head," he mumbled.

"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald." There was a crash and more screaming. "I think that's my cue!" Martha and Ianto grabbed Shakespeare by each arm and pulled him out on stage after the Doctor.

"Right in the thick of things," Ianto muttered to himself. The theater was a scene of chaos, gusts of wind scattering pages everywhere, and the audience pounding on the doors to be let out. Red lightening flashed and ragged cloaked figures swarmed in a spiral. "Look, Martha! Dementors." She shot him an incredulous look. The Doctor grabbed Shakespeare's arm.

"Come on, Will! History needs you!"

"But what can I do?"

"Reverse it!" he yelled over the wind.

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"The shape of the Globe gives words power, but you're the wordsmith, the one true genius. The only man clever enough to do it!"

"But what words? I have none ready!"

"You're William Shakespeare!" he shouted irascibly.

"But these Carrionite phrases, they need such precision!"

"Trust yourself. 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!" The Doctor took a step back, and Shakespeare took center stage, and spoke in ringing tones.

"Close up this den 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! Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points..." He trailed off and glanced at the Doctor, who prompted him, "7-6-1-3-9-0!"

"7-6-1-3-9-0! Vanish like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee..." He looked at the Doctor again, but the alien hesitated, at a loss. He stuttered, and looked to Martha.

"Expelliarmus!" she blurted out.

"Expelliarmus!" Shakespeare roared.

"Good old JK!" the Doctor yelled delightedly. The Carrionites screamed and wailed as the tempest spun ever faster, drawing pages and pages of the script into its midst, imploding upon itself and vanishing into a blink. "Love's Labours Won. There it goes." The audience breathed a collective sigh of relief and a hesitated clapping began somewhere in their midst. It grew to cheers, more and more thunderous.

"They think it was all special effects," Martha gasped when she caught her breath.

"Your effect is special indeed," Shakespeare said warmly.

She shook her head. "It's not your best line."

The Doctor ducked offstage and Shakespeare took Ianto and Martha by the hands, and they joined the actors in taking a bow. The show was over.


"And I say, a heart for a hart and a dear for a deer." Ianto slipped through the walkway of the Globe, journal in hand, watching with amusement as Martha and the great playwright sat in the middle of the stage, flirting and swapping puns.

"I don't get it."

"Then give me a joke from Freedonia."

"OK, Shakespeare walks into a pub and the landlord says 'oi, mate, you're bard.'"

He chuckled delightedly. "It's brilliant! Doesn't make sense, mind you, but never mind that. Come here." He wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned in.

She stiffened a bit, just slightly perplexed. "I've only just met you."

"The Doctor might never kiss you. Why not entertain a man who will?"

She started to lean in, but twitched back a bit and sighed. "I don't know how to tell you this, oh great genius, but your breath doesn't half stink." He looked a bit rueful and Ianto decided now was as good a time as any to make his presence known.

"Personally, I think you're passing up an opportunity to snog one of the greatest minds in history... but perhaps that's just me?" Martha jumped at his voice. He gave her an encouraging nod and a wink.

She bit her lip and smiled. "Well, when you put it like that..."

"Alas, she only loves me for my fame and genius," Shakespeare sighed exaggeratedly, and she giggled.

"Oh, I think we know that's not true. There's still your modesty to consider." He laughed heartily, and when she leaned in he planted a smacking kiss on her lips. She put a hand on his cheek and kissed him back. Ianto smiled and faded back to slouch up against the far wall as the Doctor came striding up to meet them, wearing a ruff and holding a large animal skull.

"Oi! Really, you two? I leave you alone for five minutes..." They broke apart from their enthusiastic snog at his voice, both looking decidedly unapologetic. "Good props store back there! I'm not sure about this, though...Reminds me of a Sycorax."

"Sycorax. Nice word. I'll have that off you as well."

"I should be on 10%. How's your head?"

"Still aching."

"Here, I got you this." He pulled off the white ruff and fastened it around the playwright's collar as Ianto sidled up to join them. Shakespeare looked surprised for a moment, while Martha smiled shrewdly and helped adjust it. "Neck brace. Wear that for a few days till it's better, although, you might wanna keep it. It suits you."

"I was wondering if there might be an exception to the 'no autographs' statement," Ianto said hopefully, holding his journal, together with a quill and ink he'd borrowed from a back room. Shakespeare's eyes danced as he took the quill.

"I'd be delighted to make an exception for you, Mr. Jones." He poised the quill over the page, took on a thoughtful look, and wrote swiftly.

"What about the play?" Martha asked.

"Gone. I looked all over — every single copy of 'Love's Labours' Won went up in the sky."

"My lost masterpiece."

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

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

"Oh, but I've got new ideas." A faraway look came into his eyes. "Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons. In memory of my boy — my precious Hamnet."

"Hamnet?" Ianto repeated curiously.

"That's him."

"Ham-NET?" Martha said again.

"What's wrong with that?"

"Anyway, time we were off," the Doctor cut in. "I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot can scream for all eternity -" Ianto frowned at him. "- and we've gotta take Martha back to Freedonia."

"You mean travel on through time and space," Shakespeare declared. Ianto's eyebrows raised to his hairline, and dropped again just as quickly.

"You what?" The Doctor looked at him warily.

"You're from another world, like the Carrionites and Martha is from the future. And Ianto is from the same future, only he's from Wales. It's not hard to work out."

"That's... incredible. You are incredible."

"We're alike in many ways, Doctor. Martha, Ianto let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my Dark Lady, and my Fair Youth." He pressed the journal into Ianto's hand and clasped their hands on each side. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" The Doctor's jaw dropped and he rubbed his eye with his finger, practically gobsmacked. Ianto's own eyes widened, and Martha mirrored the look as he continued, "Thou art more lovely and more temperate—" He was cut off as two of the actors dashed into the pit

"Will! Will! You'll never believe it! She's here! She's turned up!" they called. Ianto and Martha took advantage of the distraction to swap starry-eyed looks with each other.

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

"Who?"

"Her Majesty! She's here!" Trumpets blared a fanfare as a resplendently dressed woman entered the Globe.

"Queen Eiizabeth I!" the Doctor nearly squealed with glee.

"Doctor!" she hissed.

"What?"

"My sworn enemy!"

"What?" the Doctor squawked.

"Oh, for god's sake, what did you do this time?" Ianto grumbled affectionately. He turned to say goodbye while he still had a moment. "It's been an honor."

The Bard winked at him. "The pleasure was all mine."

"Off with his head!" Her Majesty ordered.

"Whaaat?"

Martha was already standing. "Never mind 'what', just run! See you, Will! And thanks!"

"Stop that pernicious Doctor!" The Queen and her guards gave chase as Shakespeare laughed merrily.

"What have you done to upset her?" Martha yelled as they peeled through the streets, back to the TARDIS.

"How should I know? Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you!" The TARDIS doors squeaked open and Martha and Ianto pushed past him, intent on getting away from the archers with their longbows and clothyard shafts. "Still, can't wait to find out. That's something to look forward to. Ooh!" He slammed the door closed as an arrow imbedded itself in the door, and they were off again.


The Doctor grinned when he ducked into the console room, flicking the controls to dematerialize as Martha and Ianto both looked a little dazed and ecstatic.

"Did that just happen? Did we just... Shakespeare's sonnets?"

"We're Shakespeare's bloody muses!" Martha squealed. "Oh, my god, I kissed him! I just snogged William Shakespeare!" She threw her arms around the Doctor's neck. "Thank you, so much, this was absolutely brilliant!" He laughed and lifted her clear off her feet. Ianto staggered into the console seat, staring at the pages of the journal.

She dropped next to him. "Come on, then, let's have a proper look."

Ianto read out loud in a cool, clear voice,

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date,

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed,

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed.

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,

Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

The Bard's signature was at the bottom. "Best. Autograph. Ever," Ianto declared.

"Right, then, Martha Jones..." They both looked up at the Doctor. "One trip, I said one trip in the TARDIS and then home." Martha nodded quietly. Ianto cocked his head to the side and raised one eyebrow, flicking his eyes towards her, than back to the Doctor's. The Doctor hesitated, glancing between the two of them, gave a brief affectionate eyeroll and continued, "Although, I suppose we could stretch the definition. Try one trip to the past, and one trip to the future. How d'you fancy that?"

Martha beamed. "No complaints from me!"

Ianto smiled placidly. "I'll make coffee."