Fate is Not The Boss of Me

by TheGirlWhoImagined

And my day had started out so normal too. Had I just stayed in bed it probably would have remained that way, but then again I was never one to listen to reason. My name is Echo and this is where my life gets wonky. OC/Doctor BTW Echo looks like the image on the left of course with curlier hair. RE-EDITED.

4. The Shakespeare Code

Disclaimer: I don't own doctor who. This amazing show belongs to BBC not me. But I do own my oc and promise to try to make the doctor who characters act as they are portrayed in the show. sorry about any spelling mistakes I'll make sure to fix anything you find that I missed.

Ps. sorry about the wait. ^_^ and sorry about and spelling or grammar mistakes, i'll fix anything found.

---

The ride was a bit bumpier than I thought it would be. Not that my first ride was smooth either, but this was a bit much. Especially when my back hit one of the pillars with a crack, ouch. That would bruise later, not that I didn't have any forming from our earlier excursion already. Just another to add to my morbid collection. Stumbling over to the console I gripped the sides harder than probably necessary, as I was tired of being flung about like some rag doll. Though I did so with a bit of trepidation. Martha had been asking the Doctor personal questions since the TARDIS started it's flight that I was afraid I'd get sucked into her twenty questions vortex.

Though I was finally relieved when she'd changed the subject. He was becoming more distant with each one and she was none the wiser of the effect it was starting to have. I was beginning to think he'd end the trip. "But how do you travel in time? What makes it go?"

"Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything! Martha," the Doctor hit a bell with a mallet before gazing at her from over the controls, "you don't wanna know. It just does. Hold on tight!"

He was practically on top of the console as he climbed onto it to stay upright, the shaking getting a bit much even for him. Seeing that Martha was a little put out by his answer I offered one of my own as I nearly fell into her, "I assume it has to do with some sort of highly complicated mathematical equations and scientific theories that would make our tiny minds explode. It's probably for the best he don't explain."

"I suppose your right," she smiled just as she had gotten knocked onto her butt as the ship heaved. The Doctor shortly followed after as he fell off the console with her, all limbs and arms. I, however, remain tightly attached to my perch by pure willpower when the TARDIS came to a halt. Martha stumbled up onto her feet, "Blimey! Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?"

The Doctor jumped up and raced to a coral pillar to snatch his coat, shrugging it on. A moment later he grabbed Martha's jacket and threw it back to her, "Yes, and I failed it."

"That's very reassuring," I whisper sarcastically in her ear. She giggled under her breath, trying not to let our designated drive hear. The Doctor dashed over to the entrance in a brown whirl, "Now, make the most of it. I promised you both one trip and one trip only. Outside this door…," he paused for added effect, spinning round to face us, "Brave new world."

Martha and I turned to each other excitedly, the possibilities eating us up. It really could be anything outside, like a mystery bag won at a fair you never know what it is till you open it. "Where are we," Martha asked. "When are we," I added, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

"Take a look," he smirked, opening the doors and gesturing us out with his head, "After you."

Martha beamed and promptly sprinted out the door, no longer able to contain herself. Pushing off I trailed after her not wanting to be the last out. As I past the threshold I stopped in awe. Outside, is what I assumed to be, an Elizabethan Street with people of all shapes and sizes milling about. Torch light, hanging from the sides of plaster walls, cascaded the scene with an unintended romantic atmosphere, casting stark shadows in seemingly all the right places. An atmosphere a couple over by a local tavern seemed to be taking advantage of. I chuckled at that, I guess things never change even when the times do. Quickly, I gazed up to see that same twinkling night sky, as if to check and make sure it would still be there, "Amazing."

"Oh, you are kidding me. You are so kidding me. Oh, my God! We did it. We travelled in time. Where are we? No, sorry. I gotta get used to this whole new language. When are we," Martha asked with vibrating enthusiasm. I snapped away from the stars and looked over expectantly for his answer, eagerly awaiting them. Before the Doctor could speak however something above caught his eye. They widened slightly as he instantaneously grabbed Martha and I pushing us back with him.

"Mind the loo," a man from a window above shouted as the contents of his bucket splashed to the ground. "Somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Sorry about that," the Doctor replied, his nose squishing from the smell. I scrunched my face at the odor myself, "Oh that's ripe."

Martha, bless her heart, didn't let that destroy her excitement and just waved it off, "I've seen worse. I've worked the late night shift at A&E."

Though I wondered what could be worse than excrement, I suppose if Martha could take the stench than so could I. Not that I'd have to deal with it much longer as we just stepped around the mess and continued on, the Doctor guiding us through the crowd. But some thought seemed to keep Martha's attention till she couldn't keep it in any longer and tugged his coat stopping us, "But are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"

"Of course we can," he answered with a bewildered look, "Why do you ask?"

"It's like in the films. You step on a butterfly; you change the future of the human race," she worriedly queried. I had briefly pondered the same thing, but considering the fact that I was still walking around that, that wasn't the case. The Doctor's brows knitted together in confusion, "Well, tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies. What have butterflies ever done to you?"

Now we were on the subject, now was probably a good time to get answers myself, "I've always wondered about that, not the butterfly part, but the fact that we're meddling in the past will it change the future. Well, obviously it does unless what we're doing was always supposed to have happened so we're not really changing anything. Or does the universe just compensate around the change so we don't really notice it's happened or-"

I tapered off at their collective faces of surprise, scratching the back of my head slightly embarrassed, "Sorry, I thought since we were on the topic I'd ask. I like learning new things."

The Doctor smiled, "Brilliant. I mean you're not right but you're not wrong either. It's a good simple explanation. I mean it's much more complicated than that, but not to far off."

Briefly I wondered how I was right and how I was wrong at the same time, but it looked like he wanted to continue down the road so I didn't push the discrepancy in logic. The real explanation of the effects of time travel would have to wait till later. Right now was time for adventuring. When we started to walk once more another idea came to Martha, "What if, I dunno, what if I kill my grandfather?"

The Doctor turned around to walk backwards so that he was facing her. "You planning to?"

"No," she stated curtly. He sent her a nod before swiveling forward, "Well, then."

"Hey, where are we anyways," I asked. Martha examined our surroundings, "London maybe."

He looked back, "I think so. Right about 1599."

"Oh, but hold on," Martha's eyes widened and she grabbed the Doctor's arm, "Am I all right? I'm not gonna get carted off as a slave, am I?"

The Doctor gazed down at her confused, "Why would they do that?"

"Not exactly white," she pointed to her face, "in case you haven't noticed."

Jimmeny, I hadn't even thought about that. But from what I've learned, not only from history class but TV, slaves weren't exclusively black during this period. Still it was something to watch out for. Quickly I linked my arm with hers, "Let em try. One good kick to the crotch and we run like hell. They'll never catch us. Hiyah!"

I emphasized my threat by giving a mock karate kick to the air. Martha smiled as at the gesture, glad I wouldn't just stand by to let her get hauled off. The Doctor chuckled, "Well I don't think we have to worry about that. I'm not even human. Neither is Adler. 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," he pointed to a man shoveling what appeared to be horse droppings. "They've got recycling."

He pointed out another similarity as we walk past a couple of men talking around a water barrel, "Water cooler moment."

A man dressed in black robes screamed at the passer-byers in front of us, his arm flailing around. With wild eyes he preached about the end of days, "...and the world will be consumed by flame!"

"Global warming," the Doctor pointed to the preacher who deflated at his comment. He didn't see the response as he was too busy jumping around excitedly. " Oh, yes, and... entertainment! Popular entertainment for the masses. If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark right next to…," he scanned the area looking for a familiar landmark before snatching Martha's hand and then mine in his grip. We laugh a bit as he dragged us along after him, racing down the dirt street. Turning a corner we came to a stop. Before us, rising like a mountain in a sea of houses, was a large circular structure—an elizabethan stadium basking in the moonlight and painted by torch light. The Doctor grinned with excitement, "Oh, yes, the Globe Theatre! Brand new. Just opened. Through, strictly speaking, it's not a globe; it's a tetra-decagon—14 sides—containing the man himself."

He twirled around to sway smugly from side to side, watching our combined reactions. Oh wow I'm actually going to meet someone famous! I mean I'm more of an Edgar Allen Poe girl, but still Shakespeare! Although it was agonizingly painful to read in high school as the class had the collective attention span of a fly, I'd finished the book by the time they were on page ten. But, here I was, actually going to see the plays when they were new. A whole new level of fan crossed my mind. Martha stared at the building in awe, "Whoa, you don't mean...is Shakespeare in there?"

"Oh, yes," the Doctor held out his arms to Martha and I, "Miss Jones, will you accompany me to the theatre?"

Martha appeared smitten, probably reading to much into the gesture, and linked arms with him, "Yes, Mr. Smith, I will!"

He then extended the same courtesy to me, "Miss Adler, fancy going to the theatre?"

Grinning like a cheshire cat I latched onto his arm, "I thought you'd never ask."

Making our way down the street to the globe we all walked arm in arm, looking like a bunch of odd dressed loons. Which gained us stares from the locals, though admittedly it probably wasn't due to us appearing crazy, but more with the fact that a man was accompanying not one but two women, they most likely assumed he was some roguish Rake. Admittedly he did slightly resembled one. And none the wiser of our surroundings he grinned on, "When you two get home, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare."

Martha laughed, "Then I could get sectioned!"

I looked across the Doctor to her and smiled, "Don't listen to him. He almost got himself sectioned for doing the exact same thing. Remember he was talking about Ben when you met for the second time."

He pouted as Martha and I snickered.

---

When we finally arrived at the globe theatre The crowd started funnel through the entrance moving us with them. As we approached the collectors a thought popped into my head, "Doctor how are we going to get in if we don't have any money?"

He looked down at me like the idea hadn't occurred to him till just then, "Oh I'm sure I'll think of something before we get to the collectors," he warily informed all the while patting down his brown jacket. He got his 'aha!' face and he pulled out what looked to be a few coins. When we got to the collector the Doctor asked, "How much?"

"A penny per person for the pit, if you wish to view from the galleries you'll put another penny into the collectors box as you pass him on the stairs. The higher you go the more it'll cost," the man replied.

"I think the pit should be fine, what do you think," he turned to the two of us. "Fine by me," I nodded. "As long as we get to go," Martha grinned. He threw three coins into the wooden box the man was holding and lead us down the hallway till it opened up into the pit. Which seemed to be aptly named as that's what it smelt like, arm pits. Although I don't think that's what they had in mind when naming it. As I examined the room I see that the three levels above us were just as packed with people is it was down in the dirt and hay covered pit. It appeared to be a full house tonight.

Beautiful red banners clung to the ceiling partially hiding some of the upper crowd. A few women were even wearing masks, which if I remember correctly only prosperous women wore to hide there identities at such occasions due to the stigma labeled on these play by the church. Gazing at the wooden stage I noticed there were no chairs set up on the side, indicating there were no rich nobles in the house. Pity, I was hoping to get a twofer and see possibly another famous person. What! I know a thing or two about history. Not only was it my favorite class I also have an awful addiction to period drama's, one that I seriously need to kick.

"So what play is on tonight," I ask excitedly, bouncing on my feet. Before the Doctor could get a word in the crowd started roaring with excitement as a man traipsed from behind the velvet curtains onto the stage. They hushed as he signaled with his hand for quiet, "Tonight for your entertainment we present to you Loves Labour's Lost written by our very own William Shakespeare!"

The crowd boisterously cheered as the man then exited to the left and a few stage hands added a couple props to the set before hurriedly rushing behind the curtains. "Well I guess that answers your question didn't it," the Doctor leaned down to smiled into my ear. I jump slightly as his breath tickled and cover said ear, brushing of any awkwardness brought about by his action, smiling back in return.

---

As the play came to a close, the performers took to the stage once more, filing from behind the curtains, bowing and waving to the cheering audience. Every body clapped exuberantly as Martha and I practically jumping up and down. The spectacle, the pageantry, the drama, I would seriously recommend traveling back in time to watch the original Shakespearean plays. It was the only way to go. I think once the Doctor dropped us back off to our respective homes I was going to divulge the rest of my life into making a time machine of my own, just so I can go and watch all of these plays. Maybe even go and watch a choice few other plays as well. Oh! Maybe even go watch Frank Sinatra sing his first hit live. That'd be an experience.

"Oh my god that was wicked awesome! Wait till I tell Alissa. She'll be so jealous," I laughed, squeezing the Doctors arm lightly. I'm so full of excitement at that moment I felt as if I could fly, not that I'd test out that theory. I'd most definitely hit the ground with a Splat! Damn gravity and messing with my mojo.

"I know that was amazing! Just amazing. It's worth putting up with the smell. And those are men dressed as women, yeah," Martha giggled from the other side of the Doctor. He grinned up at the stage, "London never changes."

I chuckled at that. "Where's Shakespeare? I wanna see Shakespeare," Martha shouted into the din. "Me too," I agreed. Raising our fists into the air we began cheering loudly, "Author! Author!"

The Doctor swiveled his gaze between us as we stop our chanting. I beamed having way to much fun while Martha on her part looked away sheepishly, "Do people shout that? Do they shout 'Author'?"

Then, as if to answer her question, a man behind Martha took up to chant the same word as we soon found it spread across the theatre. Everyone loudly called out for the man. The Doctor looked around, quirking a brow, "Well...they do now."

Suddenly the audience went wild as what could only be the man himself sauntering through the door in the middle of the stage background. He jumped up and took an exaggerated bow before blowing kisses to his fans. I have to say he looked nothing like his portraits. Though he had the same beard and mustache even that spiffy piratey earring but he had a full head of hair, that was more blonde than dark brown. He appeared altogether very roguish, in a good way of course. I decided to take a discreet picture or two, for scrap booking purposes of course. Nothing to do with the fact of using it to get Alissa to do my house hold chores for a month. After all it's not like Shakespeare was her 'most favorite author of all time' or anything.

Martha watched the man ham it up on the stage confused, "He's a bit different from his portraits."

I playfully tapped her shoulder, "Much better looking though, don't you think."

She smiled back, "Oh, most definitely."

The Doctor rolled his eyes at the two of us, "It's always about the looks isn't."

I continued watching Shakespeare as he waved to the crowd, "Not really. I'm more of a brains kind of girl myself. I like guys who can carry on a decent conversation, looks are just a bonus. Oh! And he's got to have a sense of humor. Although, it doesn't really matter on what my preferences are since I'm not really a romantic relationship person. Alissa say's I have commitment issues but I'm just a cautious person is all. I've had enough heart ache in my life, I'd rather not add to it."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Though, even if he wanted to, it would have been too hard to hear anything over the crowd as they bolstered in noise. So he turned back at the stage, saving the information for a more appropriate time. It was then Martha eyed the Doctor up and down when he wasn't watching, veiled lust hidden underneath the look, "Brains huh?"

Unaware of the feelings stirring next to him the Doctor leaned over to comment to me, grinning as he watched Shakespeare, "Genius. He's a genius - THE genius. The most human Human that's ever been. Now we're gonna hear him speak. Always, he chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words."

And, just like that, Shakespeare yelled over the crowd, shattering his belief, "Shut your big fat mouths!"

The room erupted with laughter, including myself. Oh, that was not what I had been expecting from him. I look over at the Doctor's crestfallen face and almost laughed louder. Poor guy, I don't think he was expecting that either. He sighed, "Oh, well."

Martha patted his shoulder in comfort, "You should never meet your heroes."

I grinned, "I don't know, I think I like Shakespeare even more this way. He's a hoot."

They both gazed at me questionably, "Hoot?"

"Oh, shut up," I playfully bumped the Doctor with my hip. That seemed to uplift his spirit a bit. "You have excellent taste! I'll give you that," Shakespeare pointed to a man near the front, "Oh, that's a wig!"

The crowd exploded with belts of laughter. The atmosphere reminded me that of the Rocky Horror Picture Show on a Saturday night. Loud, rambunctious, infectious, and loads of fun! I wondered if the Doctor or Martha have ever gone to one. Maybe I can get him to brings us to one showing at harvard square before he sent us home if he hadn't seen it. I bet he'd get a kick out of the 'time warp' song.

Shakespeare waved the crowd to lower their noise. "I know what you're all saying. 'Loves Labour's Lost', that's a funny ending, isn't it? It just stops," he snapped his fingers, "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 was halfway through a bow, ready to leave, but abruptly jerked upright. This caused the crowd to 'oo' before quickly going silent. "When," he paused, gazing at all the faces before him, "Tomorrow night."

The cast blinked from the sidelines stunned at the announcement, the audience however emitted into another round of cheers. I guessed they weren't expecting that, but neither was I considering the fact that this play doesn't continue on with a sequel. Shakespeare grinned, shouting over the noise, "The premiere of my brand new play. A sequel, no less, and I call it 'Loves Labour's Won'!"

The Doctor stared silently at the man while Martha clapped excitedly with the rest of the crowd. I just stare at the author confused. As the clapping continued the stage emptied, leaving a question hanging in the air. One that only tow of us were privy to. Soon we're funneled back out of the theatre as the rest of the crowd started leaving. "I'm not an expert, but I've never heard of 'Loves Labour's Won'," Martha pondered, turning her attention to the Doctor. "But wasn't it just a rumor though," I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. "Exactly — the lost play. It doesn't exist — only in rumors. It's mentioned in lists of his plays but never ever turns up. No one knows why," he frowned with a puzzled look. Somehow I felt another adventure coming on. Hooray, somehow my trip seem to keep stretching, not that I'm complaining of course. I guessed Ali was right, I am full of dumb luck.

"Have you got a mini-disk or something? We could tape it. We can flog it. Sell it when we get home and make a mint," Martha smiled with the idea. The Doctor turned to look down at her disapprovingly. "No."

"That would be bad," she asked, squirming underneath his disappointment. "Yeah," he answered, "Yeah."

She deflated at the admonishment. "Not that anyone would believe it's Loves Labour's Won. They'd just think it's a bunch of student actors making a rendition of what they perceived it would have been had the play ever been found," I told Martha, trying to make her not feel so to bad about the idea. After all, the thought may have cross my mind as well, it would be nice to not have to worry about bills but if making money off of things from our trips was a rule the Doctor had I'd follow it. Seemed only fair. And it would appear that my attempt at comfort worked since she chuckled in return. "Yeah probably," Martha paused, "Well, how come it disappeared in the first place?"

The Doctor sighed, as if he had been debating something and her question had finally decided it, "Well, I was just gonna give you a quick little trip in the TARDIS, but I suppose we could stay a bit longer."

I gazed up at the night sky and smiled. Knew it! Another adventure. "So what do we do now," I asked, trying to hide my excitement. "Well, find Shakespeare of course," the Doctor grinned, removing his hands from his pockets before racing off into the Old London night. I looked to Martha and she looked at me, with a quick smile we then chase after him.

---

Five taverns, three bars, two brothels, and one theatre later we arrive at the Elephant Inn; which a lovely lady of the night had told us was where Shakespeare happened to be staying. Although, I didn't exactly appreciate it when she insinuated I should get a job at her brothel stating as she put it, I'd make good coin. And I didn't think Martha like it so much when the lady started rubbing herself up against the Doctor. Not so sure how the Doctor felt about that, though he did awkwardly try to disentangle her from his side.

Moving up the steps, the Doctor raced up the rickety wooden stairs at an alarmingly fast pace. Briefly I had to wonder if he was part gazelle. When us girls finally reached the top the Doctor was already knocking on the frame of an open door, "Hello! Excuse me! I'm not interrupting, am I? Mr. Shakespeare, isn't it?"

Catching up Martha and I trailed in behind him. Although Martha admittedly was blocking my view. Shakespeare looked up with frustration. "Oh no, no, no, no. Who let you in? No autographs. No, you can't have yourself sketched with me. And please don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove—," he stopped as Martha peaked around the Doctor and he caught sight of her. "Hey, nonny nonny. Sit right down here next to me."

The Doctor looks between the two of them, giving me just enough space to see Shakespeare myself. Cool! He waved the two men sitting in chairs, rushing them out, "You two get sewing on them costumes. Off you go."

A woman, dressed in barmaid clothes, patted them both on the shoulders with a wry smile, "Come on, lads. I think our William's found his new muse."

Martha smirked at his approval approaching the table causing Will to sit to attention, "Sweet lady."

She sat down next to him as the Doctor and I took the other two open chairs. AS wood scratched against wood Shakespeare looked over and his eyebrows jump in surprise when he finally noticed my presence. His eyes, heated, wandered up and down my wiry frame. "How rude of me to not acknowledge such beauty as it glides into the room. And one so voluptuous too."

My voice cracked, "What?"

Was Shakespeare hitting on me! His gaze started to linger a little to long for my liking in a certain female area. "Oi! Eyes up here buddy."

He smirked, "Such unusual clothes. So...fitted."

Martha smiled at the attention he know placed upon her and quickly rattled off something, "Um, verily, forsooth, egads."

The Doctor's scrunched with disbelief as he leaned over shaking his head. "No, no, don't do that. Don't," he informed with a whisper. Pulling out a small black leather wallet he flipped it open to Shakespeare showing a him the paper inside, "I'm Sir Doctor of TARDIS and these are my companions, Miss Martha Jones and Miss Echo Adler."

Will rested his head smugly onto his folded hands, held up by his elbows on the table, and pointed to the wallet, "Interesting, that bit of paper. It's blank."

The Doctor looked astounded, glancing between the other man and his bit of paper, before smiling impressed, "Oh, that's...very clever. That proves it. Absolute genius."

Martha squinted her eyes at it, "No, it says so right there. Sir Doctor, Martha Jones and Echo Adler. It says so."

Deciding to give it a try, I peered over at it but was met with an array of things. One moment it said what Martha had stated, the next nothing, and then somethings I couldn't even make out, they were like a bunch of random shapes. It's like it was flickering. I had to look away as it was starting to make my eyes ache. Pinching them shut I rubbed them together. Stupid paper.

"Psychic paper. Um, long story. Oh, I hate starting from scratch," the Doctor bemoaned before turing towards me as he put the psychic paper away. "You all right Echo?"

"Yeah the paper just made my eyes hurt was all. Kept flickering between shapes and stuff," I blinked a couple of times banishing the pain away. "Really? Huh, that's a new one. It could have something to do with your unknown heritage. That'll help narrow it down."

Ah, and again I'm reminded of my new found alienness. Resting my head on my right hand I pouted. I'd almost forgotten to. Will just sat before us perplexed, "Psychic. Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you exactly? More to the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady and this fiery haired vixen?"

I furrow my eyebrows and mouthed the words 'vixen' to the Doctor. He just shrugged but I could tell he was slightly amused. Martha, on the other hand, appeared slightly appalled. "What did you say?"

Will looked caught, "Oops. Isn't that a word we use nowadays? An Ethiop girl? A swarth? A Queen of Afric…"

The Doctor emitted a puff of frustration and ran a hand threw his hair. I tried not to laugh at the scene taking place. Martha, finding it a bit entertaining, chuckled, "I can't believe I'm hearing this."

"It's political correctness gone mad," the Doctor rubbed his right eye thinking ups some lie, "Um, Martha's from a far-off land. Freedonia."

"And the fair skinned beauty, with her strange accent and colorful clothing, is she from there as well," he looked towards the Doctor. I smiled, it wasn't his fault that he asked the man of the group. After all that's just how the things went during this time period. "She has a name you know and can speak for herself quite well thank you," I quipped, "and to answer your question yes. I'm from a different part of Freedonia."

He leaned closer to me with a hungry smile, "Oh I'm sure you can say a lot of things with that mouth."

Speaking of mouths, the Doctor's was hanging slightly open at Will's insinuation while Martha tried not to appear so amused. I, however, could feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment, I've never really learned how to handle male attraction very well. Will on the other hand looked like the cat had that just caught a mouse, his smiling growing with my coloring. Scratching the back of my neck I shifted in my seat, starting to get a bit uncomfortable. So I turned to Martha pleading silently for help. Instead, I just received a great big smile from her. Wills eyes continued to roam my features so I turned to the only other person for help. But before the Doctor could do anything a man could be heard creating a ruckus in the hall. "Excuse me!"

A large wealthy male dressed in his finest robes bursted into the room quite upset. Hooray, saved by the fat man! "Hold hard a moment. This is abominable behavior. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mr Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."

Will scratched at his nose, insulting him, "Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it 'round"

"I don't work to your schedule," he bellowed, "you work to mine. The script, now!"

"I can't."

This didn't seem to be the right thing to say as the man stomped towards the exit, shouting as he went, "Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled!"

"It's all go 'round here, isn't it," Martha commented. The large man stood by the outside of the doorway and sneered. "I'm returning to my office for a banning order. If it's the last thing I do, 'Love's Labours Won' will never be played," he threatened, storming from view. There was an awkward moment of silence for a while, until I spoke up. After all I'm known as the killer of silence back home. I clapped my hands together, "Well, that was anti-climactic."

"Yes, I suppose it was," the Doctor sighed, thinking that it'd be something different that would end Love's Labours Won. "He wasn't very nice," Martha piped in. Shakespeare leaned back into his chair with a sigh, grabbing a cup of alcohol on his way. "Lynley can be a right bastard, but please don't let him spoil the mood."

His eyes shift between Martha and I as he drank from the cup, little beads of the drink spilling onto his beard. She took a swig from her mug, "Well, then...mystery solved. That's 'Love's Labours Won' over and done, thought it might be something more, you know...more mysterious."

A man screamed, piercing through the conversation and the echoes of his pain shattered the silence of the night. It was soon accompanied by a chorus of others, voicing their panic. Everyone in the room tensed, bolting out of their chairs with the loud scrapping of wood, rushing out the door. Racing down the stairs, descending the steps two at a time, we saw the rich man from earlier in a small town square holding his throat, spitting up water. Martha stared on in shock, "It's that Lynley bloke."

He shuffled towards us, reaching out with meaty fingers for help. I looked at him confused, "It's like he's choking, but the water won't stop coming up."

"What's wrong with him? Leave it to me—I'm a Doctor," he speed over to his side, realizing the man couldn't answer him. "So am I! Near enough," Martha, followed after, steadying Lynley's other side trying to keep him up. I sighed, feeling quite useless, and mumbling to myself, "It's situations like these that I regret going to school to be an artist."

The rotund man fell back onto the ground as his weight got the better of the two. The Doctor left his side to run down the street, searching for some invisible culprit, as Martha leaned over to listened for a heart beat on the victim. "Gotta get the heart going," she mused to herself, "Mr Lynley, c'mon, can you hear me? You're gonna be all right."

She prepared to give him mouth to mouth when water started spilling from it as she opened it. The Doctor took one last look around and came back to the scene, bending down to examine him. Martha jumped away as the water continued to spill forth, "What the hell is that?"

"I've never seen a death like it. His lungs are full of water — he drowned and then... I dunno, like a blow to the heart, an invisible blow," the Doctor stood up and and turned to the woman from earlier in the inn, the owner I believe, "Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural if unfortunate demise. Call a constable and have him taken away."

She nodded slightly shaken, "Yes, sir."

A young woman descended the stairs of the inn and gripped her shoulder, "I'll do it, ma'am."

The owner nodded her consent and sent the girl off who scurried to retrieve a constable. I approached Martha as the Doctor crouched back down next to the body. "And why are you telling them that," Martha asked skeptically. After all that was far from how the man died. The Doctor looked at both of us grimly, "This lot still have got one foot in the Dark Ages. If I tell them the truth, they'll panic and think it was witchcraft."

"Thanks, rather not have a witch hunt. I don't suppose it'd be much fun after all," I crouch over so only they heard my response. Martha nodded in agreement before looking back down at the guy, "Okay, what was it then?"

He gazed at both of us very seriously and paused, "Witchcraft."

I let out I low groan of frustration, of course it was.

---

Once we filed back up the staircase of the inn, we followed Shakespeare into his room. Tiredly walking over, he sat back in his chair as the three of us stood next to the book case. The female owner from earlier passed the doorway and addressed our designated driver. "I got you a room, Sir Doctor. You, Miss Jones and Miss Adler are just across the landing," she smiled as she gestured back towards the stairs. When I realized the Doctor wasn't going to reply, I smiled back at her with appreciation, "Thank you."

She grinned, happy for the acknowledgement, and bowed her head lightly before leaving the room with it's hanging silence. Nobody talked. The Doctor silently brooded, going though his database of a mind for answers. Martha watched him worriedly with a tight expression crossing her arms over her chest, most likely miss reading his face. I, in turn, gazed out the crosshatched windows, watching the candle light dance across the panes. That guy may have been a jerk, but it didn't mean he deserved to die.

Shakespeare sighed taking a swig of grog, "Poor Lynley. So many strange events. Not least of all, this land of Freedonia, where a woman can be a doctor? Or even be educated to become an artist?"

Martha smirked unfolding her arms, "Where a woman can do what she likes."

"Live however she likes," I added. Will, changed his line of inquiry, homing in on the Doctor, "And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?"

"I do a lot of reading," he stated with a monotone voice. "A trite reply," the playwright nodded, "Yeah, that's what I'd do."

The Doctor smirked a little at that, sending the other man a wink. Will then swiveled his attention over to Martha, "And you, you look at him like you're surprised he exists. He's as much of a puzzle to you as he is to me."

His gaze then fell upon me, baring down with sharp eyes. I stiffened knowing it was now my turn. "And you who hides so easily with a smile, keeping those around you at arms length, but never letting them know it. You even go so far as to hide from yourself. Leaves one to wonder why?"

Martha became a bit upset with his revelations, not liking that someone could dissect her thoughts so easily, "I think we should say good night."

I followed her out, feeling the same sentiment. I don't think I could take the collective stares of the men in the room trying to unravel my soul. Gulp.

---

When we find our room Martha took one look, noting the worn wooden furniture and musty smell, before sarcastically making a comment, "Well isn't this posh."

I chuckled with agreement before running over to the bed to jump onto it, "Oh yeah."

Snuggling onto the top layer, I try to get comfortable on the straw mattress, which was a slight step up from the hospital chairs. Even with the blankets being a bit scratchy. Martha started wandering the room, picking at something on the wall, "So…," she trailed off looking for small talk, "How'd you meet the Doctor?"

Leaning up, onto my elbows, I watched her move about, "He broke into my apartment and woke me from a dead sleep. Scared the bageezus out of me, I had thought he was a murderer. Almost jumped out a third story window to get away. But then found out he was ok. Ended up running from human melting fog. Found out I was an alien. Then wrapped it all up by kicking some cybermen ass and saving his life. And that about sums it up."

"That's it, nothing else," she asked doubtfully. I got the feeling she was subtly hinting at some hidden subtext, but I couldn't quite make out what that was. "That's it," I shrugged.

"Well, what about you?"

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, "What about me?"

"Do you have-well I don't know. A boyfriend or girlfriend? Are you in a relationship is what I'm asking."

Well. That was kind of personal, but I figure she was trying to bond so I answered anyways, "Nope, never been in one. Why are you looking for one?"

It was a joke but she hadn't gotten it as she sputtered and freaked trying to find something to say, that was till I smiled that is. Martha shot me a half reprimanding half amused look shaking her head at the jest. But then the other part of my sentence sunk in and her features changed to astonishment, "Never? Really?"

"Why do people find that so hard to believe," I bemoaned with a huff, falling back into the bed. "Have you ever looked at yourself," she pointed, "Makes it a little unbelievable."

At that prompt I began inspecting myself, gazing down at my limbs, still the same as always. Still wearing the same clothes since I'd first left the TARDIS, not my fault. Wasn't much time to change outfits earlier. If I was honest with myself I'd have to say I was too pale, but that's what happened when you spent all your time indoors. Truth be told I didn't blame Will for staring at my chest earlier since this bra, now that I noticed, seemed to create a hefty amount of cleavage. My bad Will.

Now I was never one to care for vanity, so I'd never say it out loud, but I was no plain Jane. Not to say I'd categorize my self as a 'beauty' either, but in my opinion I was 'ok' to look at. Of course, seeing as I saw this face and body all the time it kind of desensitized my opinion on the matter, to the point that now all I see is just a person staring back at me in the mirror. Nothing else. A feeling I think everyone eventually reached. So I guessed my opinion wasn't worth jack. Finally figuring out a reply I shrugged my shoulders at her, "Meh."

Martha just rolled her eyes before plopping down at the edge of the bed. "Well, since we're gossiping on the topic. Have you ever...you know..."

She made a few random hand gestures, like some sort of improper sign language. I wasn't quite following her logic, "No, I don't know. Are you asking if I've played charades?"

She looked exasperated before sheepishly leaning closer to me scanning the area as she moved to check if anyone was walking past the room, "you know...had sex."

I jumped away from her as if the question burned, which it sort of did since romantic relations of any kind were my kryptonite. "What! No!"

Blood rushed to my face as she looked at me with disbelief, "I thought all Americans had once they reached high school?"

"Hey," I shouted offended, "that's stereotyping! Besides that's obviously not the case as you can plainly see."

She waved her hands around in surrender, "Sorry, sorry. How 'bout we change the topic then."

I sigh with relief, settling back down onto the bed, "Sure, sounds good. What do you wan to talk about then?"

"Alright, how do you feel about the Doctor then," she smiled coyly, like she'd been waiting to ask that all day. "He's cool."

She blinked shifting a bit, like she was gauging my answer as she got up to walk over to the wardrobe and examined it, "I mean do you like him?"

"Well, obviously, I said he was cool," I pointed at her, "I like you too."

"No, I mean do you 'like' him 'like' him."

Didn't seem like we changed topics very much as we're now back on the romantic train. I have a feeling Martha was asking all these questions specifically to see how much of a threat I would be in an endeavor to seduce the Doctor, should she try. Before I could appropriate a proper response however said man decided now was a good time to come in. If only he had came in sooner.

She shot me a face that clearly stated 'I will get my answer later' as she turned to greet the Doctor, "It's not exactly five-star, is it?"

He closed the door firmly behind him, needing only a millisecond to take in the room, "Oh, it'll do. I've seen worse."

Martha tilted her head at him, "I haven't even got a toothbrush."

The Doctor, at her statement, patted himself down. "Ooh," he pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Martha, "Contains Venusian spearmint."

She smirked at the item before taking a glance towards the bed, "So, who's going where? I mean, there's only one bed."

"We'll manage. C'mon," Climbing over me he flopped into the middle of the bed. I skooched a little to give him more room, not that there was much to give on my side to begin with. Martha's eyes glitter suggestively, as she stared at him, gaze dancing across his body, the Doctor all the more oblivious. Not that I was one to criticize, I'm captain oblivious after all.

Sauntering to the only open side but stopped as there wasn't enough room. "So, magic and stuff. That's a surprise. It's a little bit Harry Potter."

The Doctor finally stopped staring into space and looked over at her and smiled, "Wait till you read Book Seven. Oh, I cried."

I laughed, "I holed myself in my room for a week. Didn't come out till I ran out of fruit loops."

"But is it real, though? I mean, witches, black magic and all that, it's real," Martha asked expectantly. "'Course it isn't," the Doctor scoffed at her. "Well, how am I supposed to know," she argued, staring up at the slightly cobwebbed covered ceiling, "I've only just started believing in time travel. Give me a break."

"Looks like witchcraft, but it isn't. Can't be," he looked at her questioningly, "Are you gonna stand there all night?"

Martha climbed in next to him on the bed, "Budge up a bit, then."

We both moved over as much as we could to the point that we're all laying down shoulder to shoulder. She promptly pivoted towards the Doctor ogling him, "Sorry, there's not much room. Us tw-three here, same bed. Tongues will wag."

I almost felt bad for her as she curled up to his side but the Doctor was clearly oblivious to the fact she even spoke, "There's such a thing as psychic energy, but a human couldn't channel it like that. Not without a generator the size of Taunton and I think we'd have spotted that."

He shifted over so Martha and he were face to face. There wasn't much space between them save air. Oh, she must be enjoying that. I chuckled quietly to myself and shut my eyes, listening to the conversation.

"No. There's something I'm missing, Martha," he halted, "Something really close, staring me right in the face and I can't see it. Rose would know. A friend of mine, Rose. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing."

I felt the Doctor abruptly move away from her, his shoulder bumping mine. "Still, can't be helped. Your both novices, never mind. I'll take you all back home tomorrow."

I heard Martha huff and blow something out, "Great!"

Well, if I thought it had been awkward before now I knew was clearly wrong. Was I gonna let that keep me from sleep? Hell no! God how I miss sleep.

---

I had no idea how long I slept, but the next thing I knew a scream pierced the night and my face kissed the floor. I groaned opening my eyes, "Urgh, damn floor, we have got to stop meeting like this."

"Sorry," the Doctor called out as his feet disappeared out the door. Scrambling up I chased after Martha as she made it out of the room before me. I scurried after them, down the hallway, back into Shakespeare's room. I stumbled in to find the Doctor leaning over the innkeeper lying dead on the floor.

"Wha'? What was that?" At Martha's gasp I followed her point of view out an open window. There, riding into the glow of the full moon, was something I always thought I'd see in Salem. I heard a cackle as a stereotypical witch rode off on her broom. Of course my only thought was if England had Halloween?

The Doctor checked the woman's pulse, "Her heart gave out. She died of fright."

"Doctor," Martha called out. At her urgency he rushed over to join her by the window. I walked over and grabbed a chair by the table trying to keep my eyes awake. I still wasn't quite alert. "What did you see," the Doctor asked.

"A witch."

---

After a constable had came to take the innkeeper away, at Shakespeare's behest we had went back to our room and slept for two more hours till the sunlight had started flittering in. The Doctor, who I had a feeling never went to sleep, woke us promptly, not being able to sit around anymore, and ushered us back to Will's room. It didn't look like he'd slept any either. In fact, he was just staring out the window, brooding. Not that I could blame him. Someone did just die in his room last night after all. It looked like they may have been close too.

The rest of us sat at the table, mulling over last nights events when Will finally spoke up, "Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey. She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place. We all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit."

He came to sit down across from us, his once bright blue eyes filled with mourning. The Doctor wiped his face with frustration, "Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Will looked pleasantly surprised at his words, "I might use that."

"You can't. It's someone else's."

"But the thing is, Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright and they were both connected to you," Martha pointed out the facts. Will turned to her clearly upset by her allegation, "You're accusing me?"

"No, but I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."

Will's face scrunched up with confusion, "I have? When was that?"

Now there was a spoiler alert. Leaning over the Doctor whispered into Martha's ear, "No, not quite yet."

Leaning back into his chair, paying no mind to the earlier comment, a memory popped into Will's head that he shared with the room, "Peter Street spoke of witches."

"Who's Peter Street," Martha asked. Oh, I knew this one, finally years of listening to Ali's obsession with Shakespearean facts came in handy, "He's the Architect."

Will nodded, "Right, he was our builder. He sketched the plans for the Globe."

The Doctor put on his thinking cap, mulling over things in his head till he could no longer keep them in. "The architect. Hold on," light bulb, "The architect! The architect!"

He slammed his hand on the table with success. "Oh, you're brilliant," reaching over he grabbed my face and proceeded to kiss my forehead before jumping up, "The Globe! Come on!"

He rushed out of the room in a brown blur of excitement. Martha got up and shot me what I believed was a jealous look before following him out. I didn't even know what I had done. Of course that probably wasn't true, there was one thing that happened. I scrunched my face up and rubbed my forehead, it's not like I had wanted him to do it, geez. Since I wasn't moving fast enough Shakespeare helped me up and pulled me out the door. Well, off to the globe. Again.

---

When we arrived Will thrust the front doors open leading us into the pit. Not a single soul was in the empty theatre. So I took the opportunity to snap a few pictures, but had to immediately stop when I noticed Will staring at me from up on the stage. Hurriedly I put the device away. Don't know how I'd explain a camera to a man from his century.

Martha and I moved up the steps to join him though. She went to stand next to him, gazing up at the balconies above while I plopped myself down and hung my feet off the stage. I absentmindedly swung them about watching the Doctor examine the room from in the pit. He spun around gazing at the structure, "The columns there, right? Fourteen sides. I've always wondered but I never asked...tell me, Will, why fourteen sides?"

"It was the shape Peter Street thought best, that's all," Will reasoned, "Said it carried the sound well."

"Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen…," the Doctor mumbled in thought, the sound carrying up the stage. "There are fourteen lines in a sonnet," Martha piped in, trying to be helpful. "So there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design," he started pacing as his thoughts raced from his mouth, "Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets…Oh, my head. Tetradecagon... think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!"

"Well words have power," I pointed out collapsing back onto the stage, outstretching my arms. As they talked I watched the clouds traveling by overhead, changing and evolving into new creatures, all the while listening. "This is just a theatre," Will stated.

"Oh, but a theater's magic, isn't it? You should know. Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis a the right time...Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy, change them. You can change people's minds just with words in this place. Like Adler said words have power and if you exaggerate that…," the Doctor trailed off once more in thought, as if he were on the precipice of the answer but couldn't quite reach it. "It's like you're police box. Small wooden box with all that POWER inside," Martha smirked. The Doctor swiveled around to grin up at her, "Oh. Oh, Martha Jones, I like you. Tell you what, though. Peter Street would know. Can I talk to him?"

Will exhaled deeply, gazing down at the wood paneling, "You won't get an answer. A month after finishing this place...lost his mind."

"Why? What happened," Martha turned to him confused. He looked up, "Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. His mind was addled."

"Where is he now," the Doctor asked, though his face looked as if he already knew the answer. Will's face slightly hardened as he spoke the name, "Bedlam."

Martha looked at Shakespeare as if he had just spoke gibberish, "What's Bedlam?"

I turned my head towards her. I thought she was supposed to be a medical student. How could she not know what bedlam was. Hell, I lived in America and even I knew what it was. "It's the wacky waffle house."

She just looked down at me confused as did Will at my explanation, so he gave one of his own, "Bethlem Hospital. The madhouse."

I lifted my arm up, "Like I said, the crazy farm."

"We're gonna go there. Right now. Come on," the Doctor raced up to the stage and grabbed my arm to pull me off, onto my feet. "Wait! I'm coming with you. I want to witness this all first hand," Will shouted, following after Martha as she jumped off. As we left two actors came waltzing into the pit and Will handed them the script he wrote last night, "Ralph, the last scene as promised. Copy it, hand it round. Learn it. Speak it. Back before curtain up. Remember, kid, project. Eyes and teeth- ."

What ever he said next I didn't hear as the Doctor, Martha and I exited the building onto the crowded street. As we slipped into a smaller side street, still just as busy as the other, Will managed to catch up with us and popped himself right between Martha and I. He gave an approving glance to the leather jacketed medical student, "So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors, writers, actors, even receive formal training to be artists."

"This country's ruled by a woman," Martha interjected, trying to make a point. Will scoffed, "Ah, she's royal. That's Gods business. Though you are a royal beauty."

Martha stopped, but still smiled all the while flattered, "Whoa, Nelly! I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country."

Oh, Martha he's from a different time. Most men have a little something on the side and it wasn't even looked at twice. In fact it would be considered the woman's fault should the affair come to light in the public. "But Martha, this is Town," Will smirked. She couldn't help but look flabbergasted by his je ne sais quoi. The Doctor turned around, fed up with the chatter slowing the group down, and stalked over to us, "Come on. We can all have a good flirt later."

Will examined the him up and down, "Is that a promise, Doctor?"

I slapped my hand over my mouth to muffle the laughter threatening to spill out. It appeared Will's sword swung both ways. The Doctor rolled his eyes, "Oh, 57 academics just punched the air. Now move!"

The rest of us smirked to each other and ran after him, shadowing the Doctor like baby ducks. Ha! That would make the Doctor the mama duck. Cute. Of course it was that thought that reminded me of a pair of PJ bottoms that were probably lost within the farthest depths of the TARDIS by now. I'm never gonna get them.

---

For the fifteen minutes it took us reach bedlam Will and Martha decided to play twenty questions, which the Doctor didn't participate in since he was ahead of us the whole time, and I had tried my hardest to stay out of.

I almost cried in relief when we'd made it to bedlam. Will affections, though nice, were starting to not only make me uncomfortable but were getting irritating. Once in the building the Doctor flashed his psychic paper at the gent in the lobby like area to let us see Peter. When we entered the 'wards' we were met with the loud haunting screams that echoed down the stone corridors. A jailor appeared seemingly out of no where to escort us, "Does my lord, Doctor, wish some entertainment while he waits? I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for yah. Bandog and Bedlam!"

"No, I don't!"

The jailor shrugged, not caring that he refused his generous offer, "Well wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies."

He sulked away down the hallway, leaving us alone. The 'patients', and I use the term loosely, screamed and shouted at us to set them free. Their soiled and worn hands reached out from behind their barred rooms, grasping for us. I felt bad for the poor souls. People during this time didn't know how to treat the mental health issues they had. Some didn't even have anything really wrong with them either. If you had a 'behavioral' problem you could end up there, they'd think you possessed. Or maybe they were a dirty little secret a noble family wished to make go away. Either way not everyone deserved to be in there.

The Doctor leaned on the wall while we waited, deep in thought. Martha, however, rounded onto Will upset with the scene unfolding, "So this is what you call a hospital, yeah? Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?"

Will rolled his eyes, "Oh, and it's all so different in Freedonia."

"But you're clever," she argued, "Do you honestly think this place is any good?"

"I've been mad," he shouted, upset she thought he had done this for the wrong reasons, "I've lost my mind. Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose."

"Mad in what way?"

I gently grasped her shoulder, trying to stop her. "Martha," I shook my head warningly. She really shouldn't pry so much, couldn't she see he was hurting. "You lost your son," the Doctor interjected softly, finally speaking up. Will's face crumpled with grief, "My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."

Martha stiffened realizing what she had brought up, "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be...oh, that's quite good."

"You should write that down," the Doctor smirked, hearing the famous quote. Shakespeare looked over, "Hm, maybe not. A bit pretentious?"

The jailor called from down the corridor, "This way, m'lord!"

Walking forth, we followed him to a cell near the end. The jingling of keys could be heard as the door is unlocked with a loud metallic click. In the middle of the room a man sat on a barren straw cot, the only thing keeping him warm were the dirty torn rags he wore. He faced away from us, staring at the floor catatonic. He rocked back and fourth in small movements. We entered in behind the jailor, "They can be dangerous, m'lord. Don't know their own strength."

The Doctor glowered at the man, raising his voice "I think it helps if you don't whip them! Now get out!"

The jailor looked upset, but left all the same, locking the door behind him, and us in. The jingling of his keys faded away into the maddening screams of Bedlam. The Doctor slowly approached poor Peter. The straw, thrown all over the floor, crunched beneath his feet. "Peter? Peter Street?"

He walked around Peter to crouch down to his eye level, though the other man made no move to look up from the spot he stared at. Will sighed sadly at the sight, "He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him."

The Doctor just watched the poor unresponsive fellow. Like he was weighing options on how to proceed. Finally he came to some decision and reached out, grasping the man's shoulder, "Peter?"

I jumped when his head shot up, eye's crazed and full of fear, his body shook like he wanted to say something but couldn't, as if some unknown force was preventing him. It was like he wasn't sure what was reality and what wasn't. The Doctor studied him grimly as he softly placed his hands on ether side of the man's skull. Peter's body began to slightly quiver but he made no move to pull away. The Doctor closed his eyes in concentration for a moment before opening them. "Peter, I'm the Doctor. Go into the past, one year ago. Let your mind go back, back to when everything was fine and shining," Peter sucked in a breathe of air, "Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story. A winter's tale. Let go. Listen. That's it, just let go."

Gently the Doctor began to lower the man to the cot before standing up, Peter stare up at him like a scared lost child. Martha covered her mouth in sympathy, while Will looked on in interest and hope. I stood by the corner silent as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. "Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."

Peter's eyes widened and then he shakily nodded his head. Staring into nothingness he wetted his lips a couple of times, "Witches spoke to Peter. In the night, they whispered," he wiggled his fingers in his ears frantically, "Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. THEIR design! The fourteen walls — always fourteen. When the work was done-."

He laughed hysterically, "They sapped poor Peter's wits."

"Where did Peter see the witches," the Doctor inquired, "Where in the city?"

Peter looked so small and terrified by that point, he pursed his lips as if to hold the answer back. The Doctor crouched down again imploring him, "Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?"

My stomach churned in knots as the air became heavy. A horrible sense of foreboding clung to the room. Especially as the man took in loud shallow breaths and turned to the ceiling, "All Hallows Street."

I gasped, where once had been thin air now was a witch, appearing right next to the Doctor. She sent Peter a malicious smile, "Too many words."

The Doctor bolted up and rushed over near Martha and Will. "What the hell," Martha backed up to the door. I went to join her but stopped when the witch started rolling her index finger in the air, "Just one touch of the heart."

And with that said she laid her hand upon Peter's chest as the Doctor screamed, "Nooooo!"

Peter let's out a shriek of pain as his body seized on the cot, the witch gasped in content. Almost as if her draining his life away gained her some sort of physical pleasure. Peter's eyes glossed over as he lets out a pitiful squeal, then as his last breath left him, ceased to be. My heart clenched in pain. Why'd I just stand there and watched him die. Why didn't I do anything?

Shakespeare almost laughed at the creature before us, "Witch! I'm seeing a witch!"

The woman squirmed in place, lifting her hands up once again, "Who would be next, hmm? Just one touch."

I clenched my fists at my side, my knuckles grew white with the force, "Why? Why did you kill him! He wasn't a threat to you. You didn't have to do that."

The witch just sneered, "He'd out lived his use. He was lucky we even let him live this long."

A heat began to bubble up from inside me, bubbling and boiling, "Lucky! You call that luck. You broke his mind, shattered his psyche and hollowed him out. Then you trapped what ever was left over in madness. That isn't luck that's hell."

By the time I'd finished talking my blood ran hot through my veins, searing it's way through my body. My heart thundered in my head, it was so loud I swore everyone else must have heard it as well. My fists were clenched even tighter than before, they felt like the skin would rip off. And that heat from earlier just kept on rolling up, building and building. It took all my will power not to jump over there and start beating her. And that freaked my out! I've never wanted to hit someone before. Why was I getting so angry? I didn't even know the man! And yet that look of pure terror was forever ingrained in my mind!

Suddenly a cool hand landed on my left shoulder. I peered over to see it was the Doctor. He gave off the impression of being slightly worried, but I couldn't be sure. I was never very sure about anything. It was then I notice Martha and Will looking at me startled. Looking slightly apologetic I let the Doctor pull me behind him. I frowned. "Sorry, I don't know where that came from."

He didn't say anything, just continued glaring at the witch. She cackled, "Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals."

Martha's face crumpled with fright as she ran for the doors, gripping the bars hard and shaking them frantically, "Let us out! Let us out!"

The Doctor didn't even bat an eyelash at her, "That's not gonna work. The whole building's shouting that."

The witch examined her jagged nails, waiting for the hysterics, "Who will die first, hmm? Will it be you?"

She jabbed a boney finger at me, her mouth curling into a malevolent smile. The Doctor stepped toward her, "Well, if you're looking for volunteers."

Martha yelled in protest, "No! Don't!"

Will didn't take his eyes of the crone, afraid she might appear next to him should he look away, "Doctor, can you stop her?"

Watching his somewhat confident stride a glimmer of hope sparked in my chest, "You have a plan right?"

"No mortal has power over me," She growled. The Doctor stuffed his hands into his coat as an almost angry excited look painted his countenance, "Oh, but there's a power in words. If I can find the right one—if I can just know you…"

"None of Earth has knowledge of us."

Ha! That's right none of earth, but the Doctor's not from earth so booyah. In your ugly shriveled up face. The Doctor seemed quite confidant now as the witch grew ever unsettled. "Then it's a good thing I'm here. Now think, think, think...Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy...ah, fourteen! That's it! Fourteen," he yelled. The old crone looked caught, she tried to talk, destroy his spirit before he could finish, but the Doctor wouldn't let her get a word in, "The fourteen stars of the Rexel planetary configuration! Creature, I name you Carrionite!"

She let out a high pitched screech as she faded into herself, convulsing at the name. Wow. Glad I don't think of the plans or we'd be dead. I would've went with the stereotypical water since she looked like a witch.

Martha watched him with awe, "What did you do?"

"I named her. The power of a name. That's old magic," the Doctor smugly answered, over annunciating the c. Now I could tell Martha was upset, after all the he had scoffed at her for believing it was real earlier, "But there's no such thing as magic."

"Well, it's just a different sort of science. You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead."

Well, that's not fair. I could use words, but not like that. And it wasn't not like I was smart enough to build a sonic screw driver. All I've got to defend myself is my SLR, some pencils, a sketch book and a slim jim. Oh and my extreme conditions survival guide. Never know when I'd need that, although I didn't think it quite covered Carrionites. Hmm...If I survive, I'd have to make a survivor's guide of my own. I'd call it 'The time travelers guide to surviving the universe.' Although it'd only market for a very small demographic.

"Use them for what?"

Oh right people were talking. Oops, my thoughts always seem to get away from me. Sorry Will. The Doctor got very quite, his face devoid of any emotion, "The end of the world."

The atmosphere tensed as silence loomed. The situation made quite clear. "Well, that sounds pleasant. Maybe we should go back to home base and problem solve there. Cause I don't know about you but I think I've had enough of this lovely scenery," I stated sarcastically, wringing my hands on my shoulder strap patiently waiting for the Doctor to open the cell. He ran a hand through his hair exasperated and saw Martha and Will looking about done with the place as well. Rummaging through his pocket he pulled out the screwdriver and soniced the door. We rushed out of that place faster than you could say AH.

---

Once back on the street, the sun now setting to the east, the horrible facility was safely behind us. Martha and Will took to walking ahead a few yards, quietly talking to each other. Enough so that I couldn't quite make out there conversation. The Doctor however, instead of leading the pack, decided to hang back with me. I was to scared to even look over at him. I mean, I didn't do anything wrong, it's just I'm sort of embarrassed about my outburst. I very rarely get angry. Mainly because I'm a go with the flow kind of person and because when I did get angry it freaked people out. After all I'm such a smiley person.

"Echo."

I flinched. Ah, I thought he was deep in thought. Guess not. Plastering on a smile I looked over to the Doctor, "Yep?"

"Are you all right?"

"Of course I'm all right. I'm ok, really. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be."

He raised his eyebrow but didn't say anything. "What I am."

He continued to stare. Eyebrow firmly in place. "I am."

Brown eyes met blue not backing down. "Really."

He gave me that same look. My resolve slowly cracking. "I-I am!"

I pursed my mouth. Must. Look. Away. Can't. Keep. This. Up. Much. Longer. "Alright! Fine! I'm fine now but earlier I was upset. There you happy now," I groaned crossing my arms. He looked at me sort of amused, eyebrow still in its perch. I sighed and let my arms fall to the side. "All right I was more than upset. But they destroyed him. What if he had family. What if he was happy. And then they just took that all away like it was nothing. What really pissed me off was the fact that they just threw him away like some old toy. Like his life meant nothing. I won't apologize for what I said because that's how I feel. But I'm sorry if I upset anyone."

He stared, "Do you often get angry?"

I smirked, "Nope. Agitated, yes. Angry, no. I'm actually proud that I can count the times I've been truly angry on just one hand. Current incident included. Are you angry?"

"No, should I be?"

"No."

"Well, there you go."

A comfortable silence fell over us as we turned back ahead. Martha and Will still quietly chatting. I'm glad he wasn't mad, that would've put a damper on the outing. More so than the looming threat of the end of the world. I could deal with that, that's always happening from what I see on the news, but friends being upset with me, nope not so much. I smiled to myself. I wondered when I'd started thinking of him as a friend. Well, I guess it's not that hard he's a likable guy after all.

"Although," the Doctor leaned over to my ear, "I think you scared Martha and old Shakespeare there. Even the Carrionite. Well, maybe for a minute. Well, more like a second. Well, maybe a millisecond. But she was definitely scared."

I chuckled quietly. "I wasn't trying to scare anyone. Honest. A couple of my poor friends had the unlucky honor of seeing me angry once. Scared them too. Apparently when someone who's usually so mellow and childish gets angry it scares most people. Admittedly after that they never touched my soda. Not that that was why I was angry. They just figured it'd be something I would blow up over."

He smiled and patted my head affectionately. Next thing I knew he's run up ahead of Martha and Will yelling back to us, "Let's go. No more dawdling you three. World to save and all."

I snickered under my breath, wasn't he just dawdling as well. We hurry after him the rest of the way back.

---

Once we entered Will's room I immediately plunked myself down at the table again. Martha however leaned on a cabinet as Will moved over to a bowl of water and splash it onto his face. Probably from running or to wash away the image of Peter's unfortunate end. The Doctor, the only one of us who never seemed to have to catch his breath, paced the room. Thinking. Maybe I could get the ball rolling, "Doctor what happened to the Carrionites?"

He racked his brain for a few seconds as if searching for a mental file, "They disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe. Nobody was sure if they were real or legend."

Will turned around wiping his face with a cloth, "Well, I'm going for real."

"I second that," I announced raising my hand up. Martha appeared confused, "But what do they want?"

"Oh, what does any bad guy want," I scoffed, "To take over the world."

The Doctor nodded in agreement, "Adler's right. A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."

Martha rolled her eyes, "But how?"

The Doctor set his sights on Will, studying him expectantly, "I'm looking at the man with the words."

"Me," Will asked affronted, "But I've done nothing."

Martha examined him, "Hold on, though. What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?"

"Finishing the play."

The Doctor appeared to have thought of something, "What happens on the last page?"

All eyes fell onto Will who relented and spoiled the ending. "The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual," he paused as he thought about his script, then looked up surprised, "except those last few lines. Funny thing is...I don't actually remember writing them."

The Doctor had an 'aha' moment and shouted, "That's it. They used you. They gave you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. 'Love's Labours Won' — it's a weapon! 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! And yes, you can have that."

Will smiled at his last comment. He must be receiving a lot of inspiration from the Doctor so I'm sure he was enjoying all of this to some extent. I clapped my hands together and stood, "Well if we're going to stop an invasion I think we're gonna need a map. Unless Will knows where Hallows Street is located."

"No sorry I don't. But," he walked over to a desk and rummaged through till he found what he was looking for. He came back over the table with a long scroll unfurling it, "I do have a map."

We all gathered around as the Doctor started searching for the street, eyes rapidly scanning names. He tapped the paper, "All Hallows Street. There it is. Martha, Adler, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!"

"I'll do it," he reached over the table to shake the Doctors hand, "All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."

Martha smiled, "Oh, don't complain."

Will Laughed heartily, "I'm not. It's marvelous. Good luck, Doctor."

The Doctor nodded and zoomed around us, Martha and I trekking behind him, "Good luck, Shakespeare. Once more unto the breach!"

Will called after us as we left, "I like that. Wait a minute...that's one of mine."

The Doctor turned around to poke his head back into the room, "Oh, just shift!"

---

After we'd split up with Will we'd legged it through the deserted back allies of London till we came out to our destination. The Doctor, to his credit, only got us lost once. Well, he said we just got turned around but that's just a different way of saying your lost. As we scanned the street for a house that screamed 'witches live here' I couldn't help but shiver, nightfall had painted quite an ominous tone to the properties around us. They loomed like an ever present shadow. That didn't exactly sit well with my gut.

"All Hallows Street, but which house," the Doctor turned in a circle scanning the surroundings. "The thing is, though...am I missing something here? The world didn't end in 1599. It just didn't. Look at me — I'm living proof," Martha waved her hands. "Time can be re-written though. We could be here one second and then gone the next," I uncrossed my arms and examine the houses before us. The Doctor beamed at me, "See Echo gets it."

Martha frowned, her lip pouting fourth as she sent a dirty look my way, "Yeah but I'm not Echo so explain."

The Doctor sighed, "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?"

"No, the novelization," he mocked sarcastically, "Yes, the film. Marty McFly goes back and changes history."

"And he starts fading away," her eyes widen with the realization, "Oh my God, am I gonna fade?"

"You and the entire future of the human race. It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it. But which house," he stated, reinvestigating the area again as Martha joined him. Then, as if by it's own hand, a door opened to a two story home. Conveniently it's the house closest to me. I pointed it out, "Doctor."

He spun in my direction seeing the clue, "Ah, make that WITCH house."

I laughed at his bad pun, which caused a boyish grin to be sent in my direction before the he waltzed into the open house that was most likely a trap. Martha and I entered the threshold right behind him. Instead of searching the bottom floor the Doctor headed straight for the stairs. Although, from what I could see of the bottom floor, it was sparsely furnished. Nothing witchy. So upstairs seemed like the logical choice which was why we absconded up the staircase.

At the top there was a doorway covered with a dirty raggedy cloth obstructing the view. The Doctor pushed it aside and stepped through. Once in the room it had all the furnishings one would expect from a stereotypical witch. Cobwebs in the corners, check. Big black bubbling cauldron in the middle of the room, check. Ingredients hanging on racks and ceilings, check. Candles everywhere, check. Creepy atmosphere, check. Ugly witch….ok normal looking witch, check. Actually the witch, upon second look, appeared similar to the woman sent to get the constable when Lynley died. Holy crap she was that woman. Christ, she'd been that close to us the whole time.

"I take it we're expected," the Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets. His best intimidating impression in place. The witch eyed him, "Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time."

Martha lightly smacked my shoulder and whispered to me, "Watch this."

"Right then, it's my turn," she stepped forward. "I know how to do this," she pointed at the witch smugly, "I name thee, Carrionite!"

The witch emitted a fake gasp then she froze. A nasty smile graced her features. Martha looked on confused, "What did I do wrong? Was it the finger?"

The young witch sauntered closer to Martha, "The power of a name works only once. Observe."

She pointed at Martha haughtily, "I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones."

Her eyes roll up into her head as she drew in a sharp breath, falling back. Before she could drop completely the Doctor caught her. "Martha," I sprinted over to her as the Doctor gently lowered her to the floor. "What have you done," the Doctor yelled, face contorting with rage as he turned upon the witch.

She pouted retracting her digit, "Only sleeping, alas. Curious, the name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time."

Her sharp gaze then set itself upon me, "Now how about you. Lets see, Oh! A lonely toddler with no home, no mothers milk or rattler I name thee Echo Adler."

I stumbled back, smacking to the floor, clutching my chest as I struggled to take in air. The Doctor panicked and rushed to my side. His eyes quickly inspected my frame, trying to find some way to fix me. He twirled around to the witch with a roar, "Stop it!"

She appeared even more upset than the last outcome, "Strange. It seems her name is somehow lost, no matter."

I attempted to furrow my eyebrows, but failed as I was still gasping for air. What does she mean lost, my name isn't lost. If it was I wouldn't have a name. She was just making up excuses for failed murder attempt. The witch suddenly leaned down and jabbed her finger at the Doctor, "And as for you, Sir Doctor!"

She paused cocking her head to the left, "Fascinating. There is no name. Why would a man hide his title in such despair? Oh, but look. There's still one word with the power that aches."

The Doctor gave her a grim look of warning, "The naming won't work on me."

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

The Doctor bolted up furious and stalked forward, looming, "Oh, big mistake 'cos that name keeps me fighting! The Carrionites vanished! Where did you go?"

The witch got huffy and spun around, upset that her powers failed once more, her black cloak hitting the Doctor, "The Eternals found the right word to banish us into deep darkness."

I kept fighting for air watching as things unfurl. I briefly wondered what an eternal was, but it was becoming increasingly hard to think what with the lack of oxygen. The Doctor briefly glanced back at me to make sure I was still alive. "And how did you escape?"

"New words," she smiled gleefully, "New and glittering from a mind like no other."

"Shakespeare," the Doctor frowned with realization, peering into the cauldron. The witch leered and moved towards the window, "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...but first you gotta get past me," the Doctor marched right up to her so that they stood face to face. She reached a hand out to caress his features, rubbing hers suggestively against his to illicit a reaction, "Oh, that should be a pleasure considering my enemy has such a handsome shape."

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

"Oh, we'll see," She quickly yanked out a lock of hair from his head and retreated away. The Doctor grabbed the back of his skull confused and in pain, "What did you do?"

She smirked, "Souvenir."

"Well, give it back," the Doctor demanded. The window blew open by the hand of an unseen force as she opened her arms wide to fly out them backwards. She held his hair in the air levitating in place. The Doctor pushed up to the window sill, "Well, that's just cheating."

"Behold, Doctor. Men to Carrionites are nothing but puppets."

She reached behind her back to pull out a straw voodoo doll and promptly wrapped his hair around it. Martha groaned beside me, beginning to stir as I started to settle down, if only a little. Air began to circulate through my lungs finally but not enough that I could easily move. It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me coupled with a panic attack.

"Now, you might call that magic…," the Doctor explained, eyeing the doll, "I'd call that a DNA replication module."

She scoffed, "What use is your science now?"

To make her point she stabbed the doll with a dagger. Crying out, the Doctor clutched his chest as he crumpled to the floor. The witch cackled triumphantly and flew off into the night. I scrambled, poorly hefting myself over to the Doctor, when Martha finally full awoke just as I landed next to him, "Doctor!"

Upon hearing the name she turned to see his unmoving form lying face first on the wood floor. She rushed to his other side, "Oh my God! Doctor! Don't worry, I've got you."

She rolled him over onto his back and listened for a heart beat. She leaned up and smiled, smacking his arm "Hold on, mister. Two hearts?"

He opened an eye before grinning, "You're making a habit of this."

He proceeded to stand up but fell back as he clutch his chest, "Aahh!"

Martha moved to try and support him, keeping him upright. "I've only got one heart working," he looked down then up at Martha with disgust, "How do you people cope, I've got to get the other one started. Hit me! Hit me on the chest!"

She whacked him like he asked. "Aahh! Other side," he reprimanded, she obeyed with a good thwack, "On the back! On the back," he yelled next, almost as if he had an itch, "Left a bit!"

Smacking him one more time she let go before he steadied himself. "Ahh," he moaned with relief, "lovely. There we go! Ba-da-boom! Well, what are you standing there for? Come one! To the Globe!"

He bounced up and raced out the door, Martha hurriedly followed after. I tried lifting myself up but found I had difficulty and fell back like dead weight. Don't worry about me, I'll just wait here till it's all over I guess. Maybe I'll take a nap or something. Suddenly I heard loud feet climbing up the stairs and red converse sneaks magically appeared. "Oops, sorry."

I lift my head slightly to watch the Doctor run across the room. Quickly he leaned down and scooped me up, gathering me in his arms. My mouth flailed about with embarrassment, but word failed as oxygen still eluded me, "Wa-….sto-….I'm fi-...ju-lea-."

"Shush, just try and breath. I can't just leave you here, they might come back."

I went to protest but he just stare down, with a look that said so there-is-no-room-for-debate, so I shut my trap. He smiled, winning, and jogged back down the stairs. The action caused an embarrassing physiological reaction, bouncing my chest up against his, and brushing his hand against my rear. Not that he noticed, thank god. It would have made thing that more awkward. Though Martha was going to hate me. But I didn't ask him to pick me up. It's mortifying! Why would I want him to. I love how one simple gesture could make me feel like such a useless idiot. Why was Martha fine and not me. This sucked.

As predicted Martha shot me another withering look once we got outside, but stopped when she realized something was wrong. Her medical training kicked in as she walked over. "What happened?"

"She was named just like you."

"Well obviously not, why is she like this. I just passed out," she frowned checking my pulse. I wished I knew myself, passing out would've been much preferable.

"Different reactions for different people I suppose."

Martha pulled her hand away, "Well, I think she's having a panic attack. You wouldn't happen to have a paper bag on you by chance?"

The Doctor appeared thoughtful, "I might have one. Check my right jacket pocket. "

Reaching in she pulled out a spanner, so she went back in. This time it was a Nobel peace prize for Einstein, but she still continued the search. After a couple of minutes and many strange items later she pulled out a brown bag. I think his pockets may have been bigger on the inside, it wouldn't surprise me. She looked in it and picked out a blue ball of string. We both sent him a weird look to which he just smiled at the item, "Oh, my favorite ball of string."

She raised an eyebrow, but put it back into his pocket. She handed me the bag after turning it inside out, so as to keep the lint from out of my lungs. "Just breath into its slowly till your breathing returns to normal."

I nodded my head in understanding and did as I was told. What ever helps. The Doctor shifted me a bit in his arms to get a better grip, "Alright, no more standing around! We've wasted enough time. Let's go."

I almost let out a yelp as he started running through the streets, I was surprised I didn't even slow him down. "We're going the wrong way," Martha shouted behind us.

"No, we're not!"

Suddenly he turned about and race back the other way, "We're going the wrong way!"

---

Sprinting through the streets we grew ever closer to the theatre, and with a couple of corners the Globe was within clear view. The Doctor stopped. Before us people were running through the streets. Screams from the Globe could be heard as a red pinkish glow of energy poured out the top like fire, the wispy tendrils reaching for the sky. I observed on in horror as a strong gust of wind burst out, emanating from the building.

That preacher we had first past at the beginning of our trip when we arrived looked on the spectacle excited, waving his hands around, "I told thee so! I told thee!"

The Doctor gazed down at me, "Do you think you can run own your own now?"

I gave a nod, I'd have to since he'd be needing his hands soon, gently he set me down. Lightning and thunder mixed into the chaos ahead as it picked up. He looked on ahead and raced forward, "Stage door!"

Martha and I galloped after him, though admittedly I was farther behind them. What, I was still having trouble catchin' my breath, I think I was doing pretty good. Thank you very much.

Bursting in backstage we spot Shakespeare sitting in a chair clutching his noggin, groggily peering around. He seemed confused. The Doctor however looked increasingly upset, "Stop the play! I think that was it. Yeah, I said, 'Stop the play'!"

Will groaned, "I hit my head."

"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald," He jibed as the screaming increases from on stage, his head jolted towards the sound, "I think that's my cue!"

He ran off in the direction of the stage, right into the thick of it. Martha grabbed Wills hand and pulled him up, rushing off after him. I took a moment more to catch my breath before jogging after.

I scurried out onto the stage. The poor audience was desperately trying to get out the doors, stampeding over each other to do so, but they wouldn't budge. Wind wiped all around us as if a monsoon was beating down overhead. As I stepped onto the middle of the platform a glowing orb caught my attention from one of the upper levels of the theatre. Three witches cackled and lifted it toward the sky as the energy I saw earlier poured out from it, feeding the havoc. Little black things started darting out, flying fourth getting bigger as they spun around the cyclone of red energies. Crap. The Carrionites had arrived. We were to late!

Will began to back up from the scene, fear edging him out, but the Doctor grabbed hold of him keeping him steady, "Come on, Will! History needs you!"

He looked up at the chaos so lost. "But what can I do?"

"Reverse it!"

"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," he desperately shouted, eye's roving the pink tornado with panic, "I have none ready!"

The Doctor tapped the man's chest, "You're William Shakespeare!"

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

Feeling a little better I tried to yell over the din, "Will! You can do it. Why do you think the witches used you. There's never been someone with such a mastery of words. If there's anyone who can stop this it's you!"

Will looked at me surprised by the compliment, not expecting it. The Doctor nodded, "She's right. 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 stepped back giving him room. Will turned his steady gaze upon the wraith like Carrionites flying around the Globe. He rubbed his chin with exasperation. Suddenly he tore his hand away and yelled skyward, "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!"

His words reverberated through out the fourteen walls. I snapped my head towards the younger witch, holding the crystal globe, as she screamed. "No! Words of power!"

"Foul Carrionite specters, cease your show! Between the points…," he turned to the Doctor for the rest.

"7-6-1-3-9-0!"

"7-6-1-3-9-0 and banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee…," he turned once more a loss for words, so too was the Doctor. Oh that's a hard one. What rhymes with cuss and doesn't sound bad. Guss, pus, bus, Russ….um. "Expelliarmus," Martha shouted on a whim. Everyone looked to her surprised. Oh, I never would have thought of that, I grinned shout along, "Expelliarmus!"

The Doctor shouted it as well, "Expelliarmus!"

Will and one of his actors bellowed upwards to the blackened creatures, "Expelliarmus!"

The Doctor laughed over the wind, "Good old JK!"

The Carrionites began to scream as they were sucked into the black eye of the storm above. A witch from the over hang screamed helplessly. "The deep darkness! They are consumed! Ahhh!"

The copies of the play were suddenly siphoned upward, following the shrieking Carrionites up in a tornado like fashion into the clouds. I sighed. There went the play. The Doctor seemed to have the same thought. "Love's Labours Won. There it goes."

The storm dissipated in a flash, disappearing into the darkness of night. There was a collective sigh of relief throughout the audience. Silence encompassed the room. No one knew what would happen next. Then, when the audience turned their wide gazes to the stage, a slow clap started up. First it was one, then it was four and soon the room turned into a roar of applause. We all looked at each other and smiled. The Doctor, unbeknownst to the others, ducked out and disappeared behind stage. The actors had no real clue of what so they went along with it, taking bows just going with the flow. No one any the wiser of the falsehood.

Martha scoffed amused leaning over to Shakespeare's ear, "They think it was all special effects."

Will smirked, raking his gaze across her beautiful skin, "Your effect is special indeed."

I laughed to myself. Nothing stopped him did it. Martha shook her head, "It's not your best line."

They chuckled at each other before pulling me over to bow with the rest of the actors. It was all laughs and smiles from then on. Giving one last bow I detached myself from the merry group and walked off back stage.

---

We stayed at the globe for the rest of the night, all the way till the sun was high in the sky and the birds were singing. The Doctor I believed went checking the area for copies of the play, making sure there were no more lying around. Always better to be safe then sorry I supposed. Didn't need any repeats of last night's performance.

I slept on one of the prop beds backstage as Martha and Will wandered off, they were considerate enough to flirt else where. Left to blissful silence. While deep in my dreams solar surfing in the Andromeda galaxy, which would be cool if it were a real thing, a voice started calling out to me, beckoning me fourth. I shook them off trying to ignore them, going on about my way, stretching a hand through the star dust, paying with the sparkly particles. Suddenly the surfboard bellow my feet disappeared, I tried to grab something, but there was nothing to grip. I fell, stars passing me by, planets zooming past, nebulas falling around me. I found myself plunging through time and space. All the while the voice getting louder and louder. The world around me shook. Echo. Echo. Echo, it chanted.

I jolted in an instant of awareness up from the bed, smashing my skull against something hard. "Shit!"

"Ah! You have a very foul mouth do you know that."

I looked over to see the Doctor grabbing his forehead. "Yeah, just how I was raised. What exactly were you doing in front of my face?"

"Waking you up. You sleep like the Bolturains of Naserath. I've been trying to wake you up for five minutes."

I rubbed my sore forehead, "Well, I'm awake now. But I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Why are you wearing that ruffled collar."

He smiled playing with the thing on his neck, "Oh this I got it for Shakespeare. For his neck."

I giggled, "Good, I was worried it was a new accessory piece."

He pouted and examining it, "Why? What's wrong with it?"

I chuckled, "It's just not you that's all."

He straighten his lapels, "Well, I think I look dashing."

"I'm sure you do."

He gave me a mock sour look before smiling, "Well, we should probably find Martha."

"Shouldn't be too hard just listen for flirting," I smirked as I lumbered off the bed and stretch my arms. He raised his eyebrow, oh not that again, "Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"

I scoffed, "No. If anything I'm relived. Not that I didn't like interacting with the Shakespeare. Don't get me wrong. But his…'affections' were making me uncomfortable."

He laughed lightly. "Oh, it's not funny." He continued to laughed. "It's not."

I tried to fight off a smile. "All right it's kinda funny."

Moving on, we walked over to the stage door when the Doctor spotted an animal skull on a table. So of course he had to pick it up. He smiled at item with some far off memory before it turned to ruin and he frowned, but still brought it with us. He pushed through the doors.

On stage it looked like Will and Martha were about to kiss, but the Doctor ever oblivious to the moment decided to shatter it. "Good props store back there! I'm not sure about this though," he looked at the skull, "Reminds me of a Sycorax."

They break apart, slightly flustered, and Will turns to the man, "Sycorax. Nice word. I'll have that off you as well."

"I should be on 10%," he commented, "How's your head?"

"Still aching."

The Doctor took off his ruffled collar and clipped it around Will's throat. "Neck brace. Wear that for a few days till it's better, although you might wanna keep it. It suits you."

Martha touched it, remembering all the pictures she'd seen of the accessory, and smiled. Now he looked like proper Shakespeare. "What about the play," she asked.

"Gone. I looked all over — every single copy of 'Love's Labours' Won went up in the sky," the Doctor gazed at the blue sky. No sliver of

Will sighed, "My lost masterpiece."

"You could write it up again," Martha said, trying to cheer him up. I patted his shoulder, "You probably shouldn't."

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

Will gazeed up at the Doctor, "Oh, but I've got new ideas. Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons. In memory of my boy — my precious Hamnet."

I stared in shock, "Hamnet?"

He looked back to me, "That's him."

"Ham-NET," Martha emphasized. Will twirled his head towards her confused with everyones surprised voices, "What's wrong with that?"

"Anyway, time we were off. I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot," the Doctor held the carrionites crystal ball from earlier up, where the three witches appear trapped shouting and banging on the glass, "can scream for all eternity and I've gotta take Martha and Echo back to Freedonia."

"You mean travel on through time and space," Will stated. The Doctor's mouth hung open, appearing as flabbergasted as the rest of us, "You what?"

"You're from another world like the Carrionites and Martha and Echo are from the future. It's not hard to work out."

"That's...incredible. You are incredible," He gushed. Will smirked at the compliment. "We're alike in many ways, Doctor. Echo it has been a pleasure. Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse," he grabs her hand delicately. The Doctor waggled his eyebrows at Martha as I cover my mouth with a hand to stifle a laugh. He just won't quit. "A sonnet for my Dark Lady. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate—" he didn't get to finish, one of his most famous sonnets, as he was interrupted by one of the actors running up to the stage. "Will! Will! You'll never believe it! She's here! She's turned up!"

The other actor beside him beamed excitedly, "We're the talk of the town. She heard about last night! She wants us to perform it again."

Martha perked up, "Who?"

"Her Majesty! She's here!"

Trumpets sound as the monarch herself walks in, her royal guard close behind her. Hooray I did get a twofer after all! It appeared the Doctor was just as excited as I, "Queen Elizabeth the 1st!"

Her eyes swiveled over the to Doctor and scrunched with a look of agitation, "Doctor!"

He appeared startled by her tone of voice, that and she knew him, "What?"

"My sworn enemy!"

Now he just looked baffled, "What?"

"Off with his head!"

Martha shot up from the edge of the stage, "Never mind what, just run! See you, Will! And thanks!"

"Oh shit," I scrambled after them. A loud clinking sound followed after us. Peeking back the guards were giving chase. Will just sat where he as and laughing at the sight. Oh, it's all fun and games when you're not the one being chased by knights. We burst out the back and onto the streets. If I take an arrow to the knee I'm going to kill someone. That joke was only funny the first time.

Thankfully the TARDIS wasn't parked far away. Scurrying up to the Doctor I yelled at him, "What hell did you do to the Queen?"

Martha eyeballed him as well, "She looked really upset!"

He dashed up to the TARDIS, shoving in the key as fast as he could, and unlocked her, "How should I know? Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you! Still, can't wait to find out."

Martha and I race inside as he took one glance back out the blue doors, "That's something to look forward to. Oh!"

He quickly ducked inside as the archers fired, arrows heading straight for him. He hastily locked the door. A thud and a spring could be heard throughout the room as he sprinted up to the controls and sends us flying once more through time and space.

I instantly tumbled over to my perch and grabbed ahold, ready for the ride. Martha followed suit. We all looked at each other from across the console in silence, the only noise was of the rotor in the middling whooshing up and down. Suddenly the room broke out into fit of laughter as we're spun through time. No one wanting the moment to end. Unfortunately all things have to end some time other, else we'd never have any beginnings. And there would truly be no concept of time.

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