Series 3 AU with Rose! This is a sequel to my stories, "The Girl in the Stalking Spaceship", "Age of Bronze", "Lantern Extinguished", "Gravity Schmavity", "Love and Monsters", "Show Her, Tell Her", "Ghost of a Chance", "Doomsday Averted", "Runaway Bride", and "The Smiths and Miss Jones".

This is NOT a complete rewrite, but meant for those who want to re-watch the episode--with Rose.

This is as yet un-beta'd. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: Surprise, surprise, I don't own Doctor Who or Harry Potter. Nor do I get anything from writing these stories--except wonderful, constructive reviews! Wink, wink; nudge, nudge ;)

--

Let me just say, you're lucky to be getting this chapter today. After the series 4 finale, I've got way too many plot bunnies hopping through my brain!

--

Chapter 1, Brave New World

Rose watched as the Doctor danced around the console, dodging Martha and sending occasional commands Rose's way.

Martha was holding on for dear life, but marveling aloud at the TARDIS. "But how do you travel in time?" Martha asked. "What makes it go?"

"Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything," the Doctor replied sarcastically, holding his foot on one button, stretching to press another with his elbow, and wiggling his finger at Rose, telling her to release the switch she'd thrown a moment ago. "Martha, you don't wanna know. It just does." He threw a lever. "Hold on tight!"

The TARDIS jerked to a halt, knocking Martha onto the floor, completely dislodging the Doctor from the console, and throwing Rose forward over the controls. She just barely kept herself from pressing any dangerous buttons.

"Blimey!" exclaimed Martha, climbing to her feet. "Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?"

"Yeah," Rose told her, laughing as she pushed herself upright, "and he failed it!" she added, smiling brightly at the Doctor.

"Now, make the most of it," he replied with a wink towards Rose, shrugging into his coat and tossing Martha's jacket to her. "We promised you one trip, and one trip only," he said, striding to the doors. "Outside this door . . . brave new world."

"Where are we?" Martha asked.

Rose didn't know either, but she'd learned to stop asking. No point in getting your hopes up, until you go out there and see when and where you've actually landed.

"Take a look," The Doctor told her, opening the doors. "After you."

Rose smiled, watching Martha's first, tentative steps, remembering making footprints in the snow, so long ago. She glanced up at the Doctor to see him grinning at her, and she bet he was thinking the same thing. She squeezed his hand, and they followed after Martha.

"Oh, you are kiddin' me," Martha was saying, standing just outside the TARDIS. "You are so kiddin' me. Oh, my God! We did it. We travelled in time." She turned back to them. "Where are we? No, sorry. I gotta get used to this, whole new language. When are we?"

A window opened above them, and the Doctor reached out to pull Martha back towards the TARDIS.

"Mind the loo!" a man shouted from above, as he emptied the contents of a bucket onto the street below.

"Nice," said Rose.

"Somewhere before the invention of the toilet," the Doctor said in answer to Martha's question. "Sorry about that."

"I've seen worse," Martha said, excited and dismissing it easily. "I've worked the late night shift at A&E."

Rose patted her on the shoulder. "Looks like you'll get along just fine, then," she told her, as she and the Doctor began moving down the street. "That almost qualifies for the top ten most disgustin' things I've witnessed with him," she added, elbowing the Doctor.

"But are we safe?" Martha asked, walking next to Rose. "I mean, can we move around and stuff?"

"Of course we can," answered the Doctor. "Why do you ask?"

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

"Well, tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies," he answered. Then, looking across Rose at Martha, "What have butterflies ever done to you?"

She and Rose both laughed a bit at that.

"What if, I dunno," Martha went on, "what if I kill my grandfather?"

"You planning to?" the Doctor asked, lightly.

"No," Martha answered.

"Well, then," said the Doctor, as if that settled things.

So many questions, thought Rose. Things she had taken for granted, just running off, hand-in-hand with the Doctor--until she'd learned the hard way to take this stuff seriously.

"This is London," said Martha, amazed as she looked around at the street.

"I think so," the Doctor said, "right about 1599."

"Oh, but hold on. Am I alright?" Martha asked, halting them with a hand on Rose's arm. "I'm not gonna get carted off as a slave, am I?"

"No," said Rose, but looked questioningly at the Doctor. "Right?"

"Why would they do that?" asked the Doctor.

"Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed," Martha answered.

"I'm not even human," the Doctor replied with a shrug, continuing down the street. "Just walk about like you own the place. Works for me. Besides, you'd be surprised. Elizabethan England? Not so different from your time. Look over there." Rose followed his finger to a man shoveling manure. "They've got recycling," he said. And as they passed a couple of men conversing by a water barrel, "Water cooler moment."

They passed a preacher announcing, ". . . And the world will be consumed by flame!"

"Global warming," the Doctor continued his list, then, "oh, yes, and entertainment! Popular entertainment for the masses," he said, swinging Rose's hand. "If I'm right," he said, looking around, "we're just down the river by Southwark right next to . . ." he pulled Rose along around a corner, Martha following close behind, "oh, yes, the Globe Theatre!" he exclaimed, the distinctive building now in plain view. "Brand new, just opened. Through, strictly speaking, it's not a globe," he added, "it's a tetradecagon—14 sides—containing . . . the man himself."

"Whoa, you don't mean--" Martha began.

"Shakespeare?" Rose asked. "Really, Shakespeare?"

"Oh, yes," the Doctor answered, grinning. He held out his free arm to Martha. "Ladies, would you accompany me to the theatre?"

"Yes, I will," answered Martha, linking her arm with his.

"Absolutely," said Rose, letting go of his hand to mirror Martha's grasp.

"When you get home," the Doctor said to Martha, "you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare."

"Then," she replied, "I could get sectioned!"

--

"That," said Rose, applauding at the conclusion of the play, "was the first time I actually, totally followed one of Shakespeare's plays! The TARDIS wasn't translatin' was she?"

"Nope," he answered. "It's just that modern readers, meaning from your time, don't appreciate that they were written specifically for audiences like this. You've gotta have the crowd clamoring at the foot of the stage to understand the interaction."

"It's amazing!" said Martha, "Just amazing. It's worth putting up with the smell!"

"Just about," answered Rose, laughing.

Martha pointed up at the players on stage. "And those are men dressed as women, yeah?"

"London never changes," said the Doctor.

"Where's Shakespeare?" Martha asked. "I wanna see Shakespeare. Author! Author!" she chanted. Rose joined in, fists raised as they called out. Martha asked, "Do people shout that? Do they shout 'Author'?"

Rose stopped along with her, but a man behind them immediately picked up the chant. "Well, they do now," she answered Martha with a smile.

As if in answer to their call, Shakespeare himself appeared on stage, bowing and blowing kisses to the audience.

"He's a bit different from his portraits," said Martha.

"A bit less bald," said Rose

"Genius," said the Doctor, applauding in earnest now. "He's a genius—the genius." Present company excluded? wondered Rose. "The most human Human that's ever been." Ah, she thought, typical--genius for a human. "Now we're gonna hear him speak," the Doctor continued, in eager expectation. "Always, he chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words."

"Aw, shut your big fat mouths!" Shakespeare shouted, to the crowd's amusement.

"Oh, well," said the Doctor, obviously disappointed.

"You should never meet your heroes," Martha told him.

"You have excellent taste! I'll give you that," Shakespeare continued. "Oh, that's a wig!" he said, pointing out a man in the audience. "I know what you're all saying," he went on, "Loves Labours 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 said, bowing.

Suddenly, he jerked upright.

"When?" he asked. "Tomorrow night!" he declared, to the delight of the audience. "The premiere of my brand new play. A sequel, no less, and I call it Loves Labours Won!"

--

As they followed the crowds out into the street, Rose said, "Well, that was weird, that bit at the end."

"I'm not an expert," added Martha, "but I've never heard of Loves Labours Won."

"Exactly—the lost play," the Doctor answered, deep in thought. "It doesn't exist—only in rumors. It's mentioned in lists of his plays, but never ever turns up. No one knows why."

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

Rose had a momentary fear that they'd accidentally picked up another Adam.

The Doctor simply told her, "No."

"That would be bad?" Martha asked.

"Yeah. Yeah," he told her.

Rose relaxed as it seemed the issue was forgotten. "Well, how come it disappeared in the first place?" she asked.

"Well," answered the Doctor, then looked over at Martha, "I was just gonna give you a quick little trip in the TARDIS, but I suppose we could stay a bit longer."

--

To be continued.