SPACEMAN AND THE MOON ― doctor who

twenty-eight ; the shakespeare code part two

"There's a dodgy young woman who's just offered to call the constable, just thought I'd let you know," Luna informed the Doctor.

He nodded, pulling Luna gently away from Shakespeare, reaching down and intersecting their hands. "Good to know, oh, and I've just informed Martha -- that man died of witchcraft."

Luna nodded. "Would expect nothing less from a simple trip to Shakespeare. Trouble always finds you."

"Me?" The Doctor asked, flabbergasted. "That's not -- what about you? You can't go five minutes without a life and death situation."

Luna shrugged. "You're just rubbing off on me, have been since we met."

The four of them moved back towards the inn, the Doctor holding Luna's hand tightly. Shakespeare sat down at a table with a sigh, and Luna leaned her head on the Doctor's shoulder as they stood near the walls.

"I got you a room, Sir Doctor," the inn maid told them, "You and your ladies are just across the landing." The Doctor nodded and she walked off.

Shakespeare looked up at them in confusion, his eyes meeting Luna's. "Poor Lynley. So many strange events."

Luna's face softened and she let go of the Doctor's hand, moving to Shakespeare's side and pulling him into a hug. "It's alright, we'll figure out what happened to him," she promised.

"You three? How's that then?"

Luna shrugged. "We always do."

The Doctor's face remained impassive as Luna looked to him and Martha.

"Not least of all," Shakespeare spoke again. "This land of Freedonia, where a woman can be a doctor."

"Where a woman can be what she likes," Martha corrected.

Shakespeare looked between her and Luna with raised eyebrows. "You mentioned a school, earlier, are you a professor?"

Luna nodded. "Yeah," she said with a smile.

"And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?"

The Doctor stiffened, raising one eyebrow. "I do a lot of reading," he replied emotionlessly.

"A trite reply, yeah? That's what I do."

The Doctor's lips quirked up at Shakespeare's words and his eyes flickered to Luna, who still sat next to Shakespeare. Not a moment later, his smile fell, and his eyes moved back to Shakespeare. Luna frowned. What was that look for?

"And you," Shakespeare looked at Martha again. "You look at him like you're surprised he exists. He's as much of a puzzle to you as he is to me." He turned his head to look at Luna. "But not to you, you look at him as though he's the only thing you understand. You look lost, but when you look at him, you don't."

"I think we should say goodnight," Martha pitched in, looking between the Doctor and Luna.

Luna nodded, her mind reeling from Shakespeare's words. Lost? Did she really appear lost? She didn't feel lost...not all the time. She felt content with the Doctor, and even Martha, but at times, she did feel a bit overwhelmed. She could hardly remember Leia's face now, blurry and her voice sounded far-away. Perhaps she was a bit lost, but she didn't everyone else knowing it.

Martha left the room but the Doctor stayed, his hands in his pockets, face expressionless.

"I must work," Shakespeare patted Luna's back gently and she got up with a small smile. "I have a play to complete."

"Do you need anything else? You alright?"

Shakespeare nodded. "You'll be the first to know if I'm not. I've been through worse, but I thank you." He turned to the Doctor, standing up as the Doctor moved from the bookshelf. "But I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor, and I'll discover more about you and why this constant performance of yours."