Hello! Sorry I haven't written for a while, been very busy with revising for mocks and just life in general. Hope you are all okay and enjoy this chapter.
"Well, make yourself at home," spreading out his palms the Doctor gestured flamboyantly to a precarious, leather stool in the corner of the control room. "Only one trip mind, just one trip to say thank you," he murmured to himself as he began to fiddle, anxiously with numerous controls. Martha turned slightly as he spoke, catching Rory's attention with a quick raise of her eyebrow. Perching on the stool he laughed breathlessly, watching as Martha started circling the controls in interest.
"Can you fly this thing then?"
The Doctor looked up, affronted, "of course!"
"On your own? No crew or anything?"
"I used to have a friend, she gave me a hand. She's gone now." He added, ending the conservation with a powerful pull of a lever. "So where do you want to go?"
Martha glanced across to Rory and he shrugged, happy to let her choose, "Past. I think the past would be good."
"Okay then," the machine began to stir, murmuring and trembling until it was in full flight. They stood back, watching in amusement and awe as the Doctor danced around the controls, running his fingers amongst the buttons.
As suddenly as it started it was over, a faint bump confirmed their landing and the Doctor threw open the doors. Excited, Martha grapped Rory's hand, pulling him towards the outstretched doors, "where are we?" she asked peering outside.
"Elizabethan England, well London, just south of the Thames," the Doctor smiled proudly from outside, as if Elizabethan England was his creation.
"Can we go out in this?" Rory gestured questioningly at his attire, "won't people stare?"
"Yes, of course! Well that's if you don't want to change. You can if you want." The Doctor shrugged, and both men turned to Martha who was looking up at the area in fascination.
"May as well. This being a once in a lifetime trip and all," She ducked back into the TARDIS and began to stride forwards before suddenly she glanced back, "forgot to ask, where's the wardrobe?"
After the Doctor had given them directions, retold them and finally delivered them himself to the wardrobe, he left them alone, miniaturised by the twisting floors of clothing.
Delving into the first bundle of outfits, Martha fished out a bright, black and white striped shift dress. Throwing it over her shirt and twisting her hair into a slumped bun she turned to face Rory with a flourish. "Ta da! What to do you think? Pretty sure this will go down just fine in the 1600s!" fingering the hem she twirled, humming a muddled version of Suspicious Minds.
Rory began to search frantically in another rack, hiding his flush with a loud, braying laugh. Grapping a garish pair of flared trousers he faced her with a twirl. "I can't believe people actually used to wear these things." He sniggered, kicking his heels.
"I don't know, they're quite sexy," Martha winked, rummaging in her pile before pulling a metallic, turquoise shell-suit over herself. "But just not quite as sexy as these!" Laughing she began to climb up to the other levels. Running her fingers over the outfits she'd occasionally shout down an amused comment, until finally she found what she was looking for. With a flourish she threw some flaring clothes down to Rory, watching as they floated and weaved until they were laid across his feet. "I'll be down in a sec," she called, disappearing into a mist of outfits.
With care he placed on a shirt, its scarlet silk comforting against his skin. As he pulled on the jacket he thought of the bizarre day he'd had. He'd never spoken to neither Martha nor this Doctor until this morning, and suddenly he was off travelling. Everyone would think he was mad if he ever mentioned this. Even the Judoon and the moon were being covered as a hoax. As he laced the buttons tight, he drew himself up from his crouched position, wandering towards the control room.
The Doctor was fixed on the screen as Rory entered the room. His fingers tracing its illegible writing in concentration. He glanced up only when Rory cleared his throat to signal his presence.
"You look nice," The Doctor complimented obligingly, before peering into the darkness behind him, "where's Martha?"
As he spoke she entered the room, slowly and stately, the grand clothes taking a toll on her character. Following the Doctor's stare Rory turned to face her, his eyes drawn into her slim waist accentuated by the golden edge corset.
"Very regal," Rory stuttered, recovering from his moment of silence. "I mean, you look very nice, I mean the dress is nice. The dress is nice," he repeated, gesturing hopelessly at her maroon gown.
"The colours suit you," was all the Doctor muttered, averting his eyes and motioning towards the door. "Shall we?"
Martha nodded, clutching at her skirts she followed them into the hectic street. "Are we safe? I mean can we move around and stuff?" she asked, glancing up at timber buildings and their vocal inhabitants. "What if I step on a butterfly and kill my grandfather?"
The Doctor spun round and cocked an eyebrow, "are you planning to?"
"No! But-"
"Well then," he smiled, amused, "there's nothing to worry about."
Martha smiled, falling back in line with Rory. Together they glanced around the street, nudging each other as they caught people's dramas. A man perched on a barrel lecturing anyone around him on the worlds pending extinction. A young child dodging the contents of pot being deposited from an upstairs window.
"Do you think I'll be alright?" Martha ran her hands along her figure, before gesturing towards the others in the street. "I mean I'm not exactly white, if you hadn't noticed. What it I carted off as a slave or something?"
"Well he's not even human, is he? And he's fine."
Pausing for a moment the Doctor dipped into their conversation, "Just walk about as if you own the place. It works for me. Anyway you'd be surprised. This place, it's not so different from your time. You've got recycling," he pointed to dishevelled man shovelling endless piles of manure into a heaving bucket. "A water cooler moment," he smirked, gesturing towards two men leaning in deep conversation over a large wooden barrel, "and of course entertainment. If I'm right, just over there," he began to scamper through the street; skidding to a halt in front of river he twirled to face a looming building.
"The Globe." Rory breathed, gazing up at the theatre. "That actual Globe. Do you think Shakespeare's in there?"
Hooking his arm around Martha's, the Doctor stepped forward, "Miss Jones, Mr Williams, would you care to company me to the theatre?"
"Why yes Mister Smith, I would," she wrapped her arm around Rory's, pulling him with them as they began to wander towards the Globe. The huge whitewashed building loomed in front and they drew to a halt at its crowded entrance. Together they weaved between the audience, making their way to the middle swarm. There they resided, watching the play until the actors eventually departed from the stage.
"That was amazing! Just fantastic!" Rory grinned breathless at Doctor, his hands raw from endless clapping. "Where's Shakespeare?"
Pulling herself up Martha peered across the crowd, "I want to see Shakespeare. AUTHOR, AUTHOR!" She glanced across at the Doctor, "do people shout that? Do they shout author? "
From further back in the crowd came the raucous cry of "author" and then again closer, and then beside her. Suddenly the whole audience were chanting. Laughing Martha turned to watch the crowd mimicking her call. Together Rory and the Doctor turned with her, "well they do now!" Rory looked up in amazement.
Striding onto the stage Shakespeare beamed across at the crowd. Spreading out his palms he paused taking in the rowdy audience. The Doctor watched on in anticipation. "He's a genius. The genius. The most human human there has ever been. Now we're going to hear him speak. And he always chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words. And we're going to hear him speak."
As the crowd roared Shakespeare motion for them to quieten with a flamboyant hand gesture, "ah shut your big fat mouths!" he grinned, waiting for the laughter to die down, "you've got excellent taste, I'll give you that."
Listening the Doctor raised his eyebrows in disappointment, and Martha let a giggle slip. "What's that they say? Never meet your heroes."
"Tomorrow night," Shakespeare continued, "the premiere of my brand new play. A sequel, no less, and I call it Loves Labour's Won." The audience cheered and the applause continued for a while before they began to file out. The whole theatre alive with talk of the new play.
A cool breeze made a nice change to the heat of the busy theatre and the group leaned against its clay walls, waiting for the crowd to die down. As they waited Rory turned to the Doctor, "I'm not exactly an expert, but I've never heard of Loves Labour's Won."
"Exactly. It's the lost play. It doesn't exist. Well, only in rumours. It's mentioned in lists of his plays but never turns up. No one knows why."
"We could tape it, flog it, make a mint when we get home," Martha laughed; staring into the sky she watched the stars with interest, only half paying attend to their conversation.
Glancing across at Martha Rory turned back to the Doctor, "how come it disappeared in the first place?" he asked with interest.
"Well," the Doctor pulled himself up and moved in front of the two, "I was only going to give you a quick little trip in the TARDIS, but I suppose we could a bit longer?" He nodded towards the direction Shakespeare had taken. "Let's go and talk to the Bard himself."
The room they entered was dark and damp. The only light a flickering candle perched beside a mound of curling paper. In the corner Shakespeare was crouched over a manuscript, writing furiously he barely looked up as they entered the room.
"Hello!" The Doctor strode over to the desk, leaning against the wall in an interested pose. "Excuse me, not interrupting, am I? Mr. Shakespeare, isn't it?"
Shakespeare glanced up, irritated, "oh no. Who let you in? No autographs. No, you can't have yourself sketched with me. And please, no, don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest, but I'm a busy man-" he began to write again, only looking up when Martha moved to his side.
"Um Mr. Shakespeare?"
"What?" He glimpsed up, pausing to take her in. "Oh," he breathed in anticipation, "hey nonny nonny. You sit right down here next to me." He patted the end of his bench and amused Martha perched beside him.
As Martha sat down the Doctor drew out his psychic paper, presenting it to Shakespeare with a polite smile, "I'm Sir Doctor of TARDIS and these are my companions, Miss Martha Jones and Mr Rory Williams," Hovering beside the Doctor, Rory raised his hand in a brief hello, and Shakespeare acknowledged him in a slight nod, before scrutinising the paper.
"Oh interesting. That bit of paper, it's blank."
"Oh," the Doctor's lips stretched into a huge grin and he thrust the paper at Rory, "that just proves it. Absolute genius!"
"But I can see," Rory pulled the psychic paper from the Doctor's fingertips, examining it in confusion. "It says so right there. Sir Doctor, Martha Jones and Rory Williams. I can see it,"
Shakespeare flicked another look at the paper, "I'd say it's blank."
"It's psychic paper. It's a long story, well-"
"Psychic?" Shakespeare repeated the word in amusement, "I've never heard that word before, and words are my trade. Who are you exactly?" He peered for a moment at the Doctor before returning his attention back to Martha. "More to the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady?"
Martha's jaw dropped and behind her Rory spoke up in indignation, "what did you just say? What did you just call her?"
"Oh, isn't that the word we use nowadays?" Shakespeare asked his eyes still on Martha, "An Ethiop girl? A swarth? A Queen of Africa?"
"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" she laughed, catching Rory's eye in amusement, and he glanced in disgust at the Doctor who raised his palms in a shrug.
"Martha's from a far-off land. Freedonia. We all are actually."
"Freedonia? Sounds marvellous," Shakespeare curled her dark strands round his fingers as he spoke and she raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "You must tell me more about it."
So that's it for today, hope you enjoyed it. Please, please review it really does make me post for frequently and I love getting feedback. Hope you have a lovely rest of week.