"Reading, Your Majesty?"

Victoria looked up from the book she was examining, a treatise on morality from some dry old man, and she smiled. Lord Melbourne came sauntering rather casually into her library, and she shrugged as she rose.

"What better to do on a rainy day like this?" She held out her hand for him, and he immediately sank to one knee and kissed her skin. He was delicate and careful, just like always, and Victoria's heart raced. Just like always. As Melbourne rose, he smirked a little at her and said,

"I thought I might find you in here, Ma'am. I know you do like your solitude."

"I do not mind at all having it broken if you are the company, Lord M." Victoria smiled more broadly at him, feeling grateful that he had agreed to stay on as her prime minister. How she would go on without him, she'd had no idea at all. The conversation at Dover House where he'd rejected her outright was still vivid and fresh in her mind, and she swallowed hard as she studied his green eyes.

"I am very glad you are still here, Lord M," she said quietly, and he replied,

"Where better to be on a rainy day like this, Ma'am, than in a library?"

Victoria held up the book she'd been reading and complained,

"This one's terrible. I'll find something else. Something more exciting."

Melbourne followed her over to the tall bookshelves, and he began scanning them with his finger. He paused and suggested,

"Macbeth?"

"I've read it so many times before," Victoria complained. "I need something new."

"New," Melbourne repeated. He dragged his eyes across the shelves and finally grinned a little, gesturing to a miniature red tome. "This one's called The Perils of Modernity. Is that new enough for you, Ma'am?"

"Ha! I've never heard of that one. Let's see it." Victoria strode over to him, her lacy cream dress dragging a bit on the parquet flooring. Melbourne pulled the little book out, and Victoria stood very close to him as he opened it.

Then, all of a sudden, everything went white and hot.

She'd fainted, Victoria thought immediately. She'd lost consciousness. Her ears were ringing and she was blinded, and all she could hear was a loud, vivid whoosh.

"Your Majesty? Ma'am?" Melbourne sat up frantically and crawled across the strange floor to where the queen lay flat on her back. He immediately rushed to help her sit, and he patted her back as she coughed a few times. Finally she blinked her eyes open, and then the both of them looked around.

"Lord M?" Victoria said, her voice shaking, "What is this place?"

"I... I do not know, Ma'am." Melbourne studied the stark blue walls, the wispy white curtains, the angry boxy furniture, and he slowly rose. He extended a hand to help Victoria up, and then he was rendered silent. He strode to the expansive, simple window and pressed his hands to the glass, staring down an enormous height to see strange vehicles crawling through the streets like insects. There were people walking down below, their clothing bizarre to Melbourne's eyes. There were tall buildings, signs plastered to walls in unfathomable colours with enormous words. One banner advertised something called an iPhone, and when Melbourne realised he had no idea what that was, he whispered to Victoria,

"Something very strange has happened, Ma'am. We need to get you back to the palace immediately."

"Wait. Is this... is this London? Those are the Whitehall Gardens!" Victoria stared out the window and pointed across the street. Melbourne nodded and breathed,

"I have heard philosophers wonder about traveling through time. Have we done that, I wonder? What an impossible suggestion. What a ludicrous hallucination we must be experiencing."

"Time? You think this is the past?" Victoria seemed shocked, but Melbourne shook his head, looking again at the crawling vehicles and the angular buildings.

"Future, Ma'am," he said, "if it is anything more than a strange dream."

"We were in the library at Buckingham," Victoria whispered, and Melbourne nodded.

"Then everything went bright and hot."

They both gazed out the window then, and Victoria put her hands to the glass as she murmured,

"I think those are women down there. Wearing breeches. How very strange. What are those moving things? The black ones and the silver ones? They're some sort of machine."

"I have no idea, Ma'am," Melbourne admitted. "I confess I am a bit afraid to go out there."

There was the sound of knocking behind them then, and Victoria gasped as she said firmly,

"Enter."

Melbourne shot her a look, for that did not seem like the right response to a strange knock on a strange door in a strange place. He walked across the cropped black carpeting toward the door, and he tried to open it. Finally he realised he had to turn an oblong lock on the door, and when he did, he found himself staring at a very plump woman in a tunic and trousers. She shot up an eyebrow, especially when she saw Victoria behind Melbourne, and she said,

"Just housekeeping, sir. I'll come back later. Nice costumes, by the way. Have a good day, sir."

"Wait, please." Melbourne watched the woman whirl back around, and he asked carefully, "How far is it from here to... to Buckingham Palace?"

The woman grinned. "You got some sort of event there? That makes sense. Less than a twenty minute walk straight down the Mall, sir, but you'll get all sorts of looks in those costumes. Maybe take a Black Cab."

"A Black Cab," Melbourne repeated. "You mean those black vehicles I see outside."

The woman laughed and shook her head. "Now you're playing with me, aren't you? You're a funny one, sir. I'll clean later. Thanks for choosing the Corinthia."

Melbourne shut the door as the woman walked away, and as he turned, he saw Victoria holding a blue leather bag with a strange closure. She held it up to him and said,

"This was on the bed. It's filled with... well, I think it's money. Bank notes. They say they're pounds. So many of them."

Melbourne stalked quickly over and sorted through the bundles of bills. They were in many denominations - five pounds, ten, twenty, and fifty. They looked very different from anything Melbourne had seen, so he pulled a twenty pound note out and studied it.

"E II R... Queen Elizabeth II," he murmured, pointing to the portrait on the colourful note. Victoria studied the crowned woman and wondered,

"Would she know who I am, do you think?"

"I have no idea if it would be safe to reveal who you are, Ma'am. I suspect not. Who knows; if we go around declaring you to be the Queen of England, we may wind up in a jail cell."

"How absurd. I am the monarch of this country," Victoria snapped. "Or, I was. This Elizabeth II, she will know of me."

Melbourne shot Victoria a withering look. "Do you really think anyone is going to believe us, Ma'am? You saw that woman, that... housekeeper, apparently. She thought we were in costume for something. They won't believe us if we say who you are. We must get different clothes, and quickly."

"All right," Victoria nodded, the colour suddenly draining from her face. She breathed quickly then, and she whispered, "I am frightened, Lord M."

"So am I, Ma'am," he confessed. He stared at the bag of money and shrugged. "I have no clue how much of this we'll need. We'll take the whole thing and hope no one robs us, I suppose."

He zipped up the leather bag and slug it over one shoulder. Victoria handed him a little envelope and said,

"This was on the bed, too, Lord M. Room keys, it says. We're at the Corinthia Hotel."

"Room keys." Melbourne frowned and pulled out the little hard cards inside the envelope. He shook his head and held one up to study it. "This is not a key."

"Apparently it is. We ought to take them with us, probably." Victoria knitted her hands together in front of her and fretted, "I haven't got a bonnet or gloves."

"I don't suppose that will matter much here, Ma'am." Melbourne huffed out a breath and told her firmly, "If anyone asks, we are Victoria and William Lamb. Simple as that."

"Victoria Lamb. I rather like it." She smiled weakly, and Melbourne shut his eyes as he listened to the strange sounds coming from outside. A low constant roar, a sort of goose-like honking here and there... the rush of something going overhead. This was a strange new world, he realised, and they were about to jump into it head-first.

"Could I get a photo with you? You look so pretty!"

Victoria turned round at the sound of the young woman's voice. She was trying her best not to hyperventilate as they walked down the street, surrounded by vehicles that seemed possessed to drive themselves and people who were talking into little bricks beside their faces. Victoria nodded quickly, not really understanding the young woman's question. The woman came barging up in between Victoria and Melbourne and grinned, and another young woman aimed a little black rectangle at them and grinned.

"Thank you!" The young woman exclaimed. "Are you guys part of that Dickens tour or something?"

"Dickens. You know the work of Mister Dickens?" Victoria asked quickly, and the girl flushed.

"I was supposed to read Great Expectations in school, but I just did the Cliffs Notes."

"I am unfamiliar with that particular work," Victoria said breathlessly. "Perhaps it was after my time."

"Victoria, I think we should go," Melbourne said quietly.

"Victoria! Are you dressed up as Queen Victoria?" The young woman nodded. "When she was young. I get it now. Brilliant, bloody brilliant. You look just like her, too!"

"Thank you." Victoria watched as the young women rushed away, and she turned her face up frantically to Melbourne.

"They knew who I was," she said. "When she was young, they said. That means they know of me old. They knew Dickens."

"It means we must find out way back, if they mentioned you being young," Melbourne said, tipping his head a little. "It makes it that much more important that we remain in cognito and get out of these clothes quickly."

"But I will need help undressing," Victoria said, her cheeks flushing very hot. "I haven't got a dresser here."

Melbourne held his hands out a bit and muttered, "Meet your new dresser, Ma'am."

Her mouth dropped open. Two dark-skinned young men walked by, and one laughed,

"Brilliant costume, mate."

Melbourne flicked his eyes to the young man and nodded. Victoria gasped as one of the vehicles whizzed by them on the street, and her heart pounded as she asked,

"What are they called?"

"I saw what looked like a newspaper a block back," Melbourne said. "It was an advertisement for something they called 'used cars.' The pictures looked just like what's driving by."

"Cars. They move so very quickly," Victoria fretted. She looked around the busy street and gestured to a shop just up the sidewalk. "There. That looks like a clothier. Sort of."

"H&M," Melbourne mused. "I wonder what that stands for."

"It doesn't matter; they appear to have the same scraps everyone's wearing," Victoria said. She licked her lips and lowered her eyes. "The women are practically naked. I can't be like that."

"We'll cover you up, Ma'am," Melbourne said carefully. He took her elbow gently and guided her up the street. More people aimed their rectangular devices at them and smiled, and Victoria wondered desperately what they were doing. 'Getting a photo,' the young woman had said.

H&M was filled with thudding music that seemed to be coming out of the ether. Victoria could not see the instrumentalists playing the deep, pounding music with its screeching overtones. She looked up at the blinding white light that was emanating from the ceiling, and her eyes burned.

"Erm... hello! Welcome to H&M." A tall woman in what looked like a tight black chemise came up to them and joked, "Anxious to get out of the fancy dress?"

"We just need a few items," Melbourne nodded, and Victoria had never seen him so frightened.

"Well, if you need any help, let me know. I'm Bailey." The young woman smiled and walked away, and Victoria marveled at the height of the heels on her shoes, at her bare legs that looked shaven. She blinked a few times and started to walk through the shop, clutching her hands together before her and feeling terrified of the racks of identical-looking clothes.

"How about this, Ma'am?" Melbourne whispered, and he picked up a long red dress. It looked strange in the way it was obviously meant to cling to the form, and Victoria whispered,

"That's an undergarment."

"It would seem as though - judging by what I saw on the street - this is quite conservative, Ma'am." Melbourne held the dress up to her and frowned. "It's too long. We'd have to find a seamstress to shorten it."

Victoria shut her eyes and murmured, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do."

She spent the next ten minutes picking out skirting that didn't reach her knees, blouses that seemed awfully revealing, and a few pairs of shoes that were actually small enough for her feet. None of it seemed like real clothing; it was garish and seemed fit for only the most ribald prostitute. Melbourne wound up with some strangely collared shirts, a few pairs of rough trousers that were apparently called 'jeans,' some decent-looking black trousers, and a pair of black shoes with thick white laces. They made their way back to Bailey, the girl that had welcomed them into the shop, and they stared at one another, unsure of what else to do.

"Did you find everything all right?" Bailey asked, and Victoria just nodded. She set her clothes on the shiny metallic table between them, and then Melbourne did the same. Bailey began using a handheld device to aim a blinding red light at the little tags on each item, which seemed to trigger something on the machine to her right. After awhile, she folded and stuffed the clothes into a few large, shiny white bags that read "H&M," and she said, "That'll be one hundred and two pounds even, please."

"A hundred and two. Right." Melbourne bent down and surreptitiously unzipped the leather bag of money.

"Is there somewhere round here to buy... soap?" Victoria asked. "Hairbrushes? Things like that?"

"Sure thing; there's a Tesco Express just down the road a bit. You from out of town?"

Bailey took the two fifty pound notes and a five from Melbourne, who answered, "You could say that."

"Where are you staying at?" Bailey asked. Victoria gulped; she had never been spoken to like this by anyone in her entire life.

"The Corinthia," Melbourne answered for her.

"Well, if you're looking for somewhere quick and easy for dinner, there's a Garfunkel's just here off the Strand," Bailey said. "Otherwise... seeing as you're still in costume, maybe just room service, eh?"

"Room service," Melbourne repeated curiously, and Bailey cocked up an eyebrow.

"You know, where you call down to the front desk in the hotel and they send up food for you?"

"Thank you," Victoria muttered. She was shocked when the girl handed her the two large shiny bags. Melbourne immediately took them, knowing that even in this time and place, he could not allow her to carry her own shopping. He bowed his head politely to Bailey, who looked more than a little confused as she said,

"Have a good night, you two."

As Victoria and Melbourne left the shop, Victoria could swear she heard Bailey say behind them,

"Completely fucking mental, that pair."

Author's Note: Ohhhh, this one's gonna be fun. :} I promise there will be lots of adventure, mayhem, and some good slow-burning Vicbourne, too. This ain't Regina in Caritate, but if you're migrating from there, WELCOME and thanks for sticking with my writing. I'd absolutely love to hear from you in the comments.