"Martha Jones," she said, holding out her hand for me to shake.

I took it and turned to the Doctor. "Oh, I was hoping it'd be you and me for a while."

"She saved my life."

I turned to the girl, flashing a smile. "Thank you for keeping this idiot safe. I really appreciate it."

"Not a problem. He saved me too, and a hospital full of people."

"Well then, welcome aboard the Tardis. I'm Rys."

"Nice to meet you."

I glanced at the Doctor, watching as his eyes scaled my body, taking in my appearance. "What are you wearing?"

"Lace top, leather everything else."

"I can see."

"You like?"

His cheeks turned red as his eyes met mine and quickly looked away. "I promised Martha here a trip so we should be off." I let out a laugh before wincing a bit. He rushed over, grabbing my arm as Martha looked on. "Are you alright?"

"Yep. Never better. I'm just a bit sore. No worries."

"When you say that…" I placed my hand on his cheek, stopping him.

"I'm fine." He nodded and returned to the console as I went to sit in the jump seat, noticing Martha watching us intently. "So, what's happened since I've been asleep?"

"Oh, you know, same old thing as usual."

"So getting into trouble, huh?"

"Well, you know me…" he replied as he rubbed the back of his neck and turned to the console.

As he pulled levers and pressed buttons, the Tardis began to buck. I let out a laugh as Martha held onto the console. She had been asking questions about the Tardis, what makes it go and whatnot, much to the Doctor's dismay. I on the other hand found it a bit endearing that she was so curious. "But how do you travel in time? What makes it go?"

"Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything. Martha, you don't want to know. It just does. Hold on tight!" The Doctor said, putting his Chuck Taylor clad foot onto the console.

"Don't do that. She hates when you dirty up the console." He glanced at me before giving me a quick eye roll. I returned it and stood, making my way to the other side of the console. Pulling a lever, the Tardis jolted to a stop, agreeing with what I'd said and the Doctor and Martha fell to the floor.

"Blimey. Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?" Martha asked as she stood up.

"Yeah, but he failed miserably," I answered as I moved to the railing and grabbing his jumper. He glared at me and began to chase me around the room, trying to get it back.

"None of the Tardises were right. They were all so dull and without life. Besides, not everyone had big doe eyes," he practically whined.

"My eyes had no part in me passing my test."

"You're right. It was the curves."

I stopped and placed my hand on my hips and giving him a sly smile. "So, you were looking?"

"Yes," he hastily answered before catching himself, his ears turning pink. "No. Give me that," he said, snatching the jumper from me and putting it on. "Anyways, Martha! Now, make the most of it. I promised you one trip and one trip only." He grabbed my hand and raced to the door. "Outside this door… brave new world."

"Where are we?"

"Take a look." The two of us walked to the door and he pushed it open. "After you."

Martha walked out with me following. Looking around, I saw washing hanging on lined below overhanging eaves, scruffy urchins running around, and wooden houses with thatched roofs. "Oh, you are kidding me. You are so kidding me. Oh, my God, we did it. We travelled in time. Where are we?" she asked excitedly. "No, sorry." She held her hand up to keep us from answering. "Got to get used to this whole new language. When are we? "

"Mind out!" the Doctor said as he pulled Martha back. I stepped to the side as a man emptied his slop bucket from an upstairs window.

"Gardez l'eau!"

I grimaced a bit. "Obviously somewhere without toilets."

"Sorry about that."

"I've seen worse. I've worked the late night shift A+E." I shrugged and looped my arm around the Doctor's and the pair of us began to stroll off. While the Doctor figured Martha was following us, I turned to see her standing in the same spot and gave her a questioning expression as I pulled the Doctor to a stop and we walked back over to her. "But are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"

"Of course we can. Why do you ask?"

"It's like in the films - you step on a butterfly; you change the future of the human race."

I let out a small laugh. "You watch way too many films."

"Tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies. What have butterflies ever done to you?" He began to stride off again, hands deep in his pockets.

"What if, I don't know. What if I kill my grandfather?"

The Doctor turned and faced her, all the while still talking. "Are you planning to?"

"No."

"Well, then."

"And this is London?"

"Yep. 1599," I riposted. I was relishing in the scenery. It was in no way beautiful in normal standards but it was all the same.

"Oh, but hold on. Am I all right? I'm not going to get carted off as a slave, am I?"

"Why would they do that?" I stared at the Doctor in slight disbelief. While skin colour didn't matter, it was obvious Martha was of a darker complexion. I shared a look with the woman and shook my head at the Doctor.

She held up her hand. "Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed."

"We're not even human. Just walk about like you own the place. Works for me."

"And that tends to get us in trouble."

He shot me a mock glare but continued. "Besides, you'd be surprised- Elizabethan England, not so different from your time. Look over there. They've got recycling." He pointed to a man shovelling horse manure into a bucket. "Water cooler moment." Two men were talking by a water barrel.

"And the world will be consumed by flame!"

"Global warming. Oh, yes, and entertainment. Popular entertainment for the masses." He began to look around. "If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark, right next to…" He stopped talking and took off running until we passed Southwalk Cathedral. "Oh, yes! The Globe Theatre! Brand new. Just opened. Though, strictly speaking, it's not a globe. It's a tetradecagon, fourteen sides, containing the man himself."

"Whoa, you don't mean…" Martha said wide eyed. "Is Shakespeare in there?"

"Oh, yes. Miss Jones, will you accompany me to the theatre?" He held up his arm for her and she quickly took it. I stared at her for a moment before looking away, feeling a bit uncomfortable by her enthusiasm before shaking my head. She was his companion. He didn't mean anything by that, and she was obviously smart enough to take a hint, especially since the Doctor and I weren't shy about displaying our affections.

"Mister Smith, I will."

"When you get home, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare."

"Then, I could get sectioned," was Martha's sarcastic reply. I chuckled at the pair as they began to walk off, feeling a bit left out but ignoring the feeling and the growth of my insecurities. It was her first trip and while I knew the Doctor wouldn't admit it, he was excited to show her around, especially since he was such a huge fan of Shakespeare.

"You coming, Rys?" I glanced up to see the two waiting for me, the Doctor's free arm outstretched, his hand waiting for mine. Smiling up at him, I walked over and reached to take it only for it to be pulled from my reach and his arm to snake around my waist. Kissing the top of my head, the Doctor led Martha and me to the Globe.

We watched the performance in the vast and beautiful theatre and once it was over the crowd erupted in applause. The Doctor beamed, excited to have seen a performance of one of, if not his favourite, playwright's work. "Did you enjoy it?"

"I did but Charlie will always have a place in my hearts." He scowled thinking back to that adventure most likely. It was one of the more frightening ones for me, even more so since Rose had been kidnapped and no one seemed to listen to my warnings. But I did enjoy meeting Charles Dickens. While the Doctor preferred Shakespeare, I was extremely excited about meeting the Charles. He had been one of my favourite authors. Chuckling at the Doctor's expression, I gave him a quick peck on the cheek before reassuringly placing a hand on his cheek.

"That's amazing! Just amazing," Martha spoke happily as she clapped on with the crowd. "It's worth putting up with the smell. And those are men dressed as women, yeah?"

I nodded, resting my head on the Doctor's arm as he spoke. "London never changes."

"Where's Shakespeare? I want to see Shakespeare. Author! Author!" she exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air before turning to us. "Do people shout that? Do they shout Author?"

"Author! Author!" a man repeated and soon the crowd of three thousand are chanting.

I chuckled. "Well, they do now."

Shakespeare then came onto the stage, an air of arrogance surrounding him. As he walked centre stage, he waved a hand, placing it to his lips each time. Subsequently, there was more applause as he did so.

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

"Genius. He's a genius. The genius. The most human human there's ever been. Now we're going to hear him speak. Always he chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words."

"Don't get your hopes up, sweetie."

"Ah… shut your big fat mouths!" the man said, earning laughter from the audience.

"Oh, well." I chuckled at his disappointment and dropped another kiss on his cheek.

"You should never meet your heroes."

I shrugged. "Maybe but some are quite nice. I think Shakespeare's just a bit full of himself."

"You've got excellent taste, I'll give you that." He pointed to a man in the crowd. "Oh, that's a wig. I know what you're all saying. Love's Labour's Lost, that's a funny ending, isn't it? It just stops. Will the boys get the girls? Well, don't get your hose in a tangle, you'll find out soon." He paused, and in the midst of it, the audience called out "when", each person eager to know what was to come next. "Yeah, yeah. All in good time. You don't rush a genius." He bowed and suddenly the man went snapped upright, staggering back a bit and as rigid as a pole and his expression blank. A shiver ran down my spine as an uneasy feeling enveloped me. It was enough to make me scan the theatre, looking for what had caused the change. When finding nothing, I stared at the man, scrutinising every detail. "When? Tomorrow night." With that said, the crowd cheered happily. "The premiere of my brand new play. A sequel, no less- and I call it Loves Labour's Won!"

"I'm not an expert but I've never heard of Love's Labour's Won," Martha commented as we filed out of the theatre with the rest of the patrons. My hand was firmly in the Doctor's, needing it as to not be separated as my mind was preoccupied. Back home, the moment my mind was in deep thought, I often disregarded everything around me. That usually led to me getting hurt in some way or form, something that the worried the Doctor endlessly. If anything could be said, even during those times, I never neglected our children which was one worry off his shoulder. A squeeze of the hand brought me from my musings and back to the conversation.

"It's the lost play. It doesn't exist, but there are rumours. It's mentioned in lists of his plays but never turned up," I explained, "and no one knows why."

"Have you got a mini-disc or something? We can tape it. We can flog it. Sell it when we get home and make a mint." I stared at her for a moment before realising that she wasn't serious.

"No," the Doctor deadpanned.

"That would be bad."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Well, how come it disappeared in the first place?"

"Well, I was just going to give you a quick little trip in the Tardis, but I suppose we could stay a bit longer." I forced a quick smile and glanced back at the theatre; Shakespeare's abrupt change still not sitting well with me. Sighing, I went silently walked with them as we made our way through the streets.

A short stroll later we were at the Elephant, a courtyard tavern, looking for Shakespeare. When we found him, he was speaking with two men who seemed to be complaining about the next night's performance. The Doctor knocked and pulled me through the door, leaving Martha to follow. "Hello! Excuse me, not interrupting, am I? Mister Shakespeare, isn't it?"

"Oh, no. No, no, no. Who let you in?" he questioned almost exasperated and held his hand out, not sparing us a glance. "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 then looked up and saw Martha and me.

"Hey, nonny nonny. Sit right down here next to me. You two get sewing on them costumes. Off you go." The two men glanced at the playwright in shock, looking up at the innkeeper as she began to usher them out.

"Come on, lads. I think our William's found his new muse."

"Sweet ladies." Martha moved from behind us and took a seat while I remained by the Doctor. "Such unusual clothes. So… fitted."

"Er, verily, forsooth, egads." I groaned a bit as I shook my head at her. The Doctor released my hand and sat in the other chair.

"No, no. Don't do that. Don't." The Doctor told Martha before reaching into his pocket and retrieving the psychic paper. "I'm Sir Doctor of Tardis, Dame Cerys of the Powell Estates, and this is our-"

"Your," I corrected. While I had no problem with Martha, she wasn't my companion. The Doctor had asked invited her into the Tardis. Even still, I hoped she would become a friend. I was nowhere near ready to take on a companion of my own, not yet at least. I was looking forward to that day, though.

"Right. My companion, Miss Martha Jones."

"Interesting, that bit of paper- it's blank."

"Oh, that's… very clever. That proves it- absolute genius."

"No, it says so right there," Martha announced, taking the wallet. "Sir Doctor, Dame Cerys, Martha Jones. It says so."

"And I sat it's blank."

"Psychic paper. Um, long story. Oh, I hate starting from scratch." He flipped it close and returned it to his pocket. I chuckled a bit at his disdain.

"Psychic? Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you, exactly? More's the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady and your ravishing enigmatic peeress?"

"You aren't my type," I chuckled, catching the glare the Doctor shot him as he spoke to me. "Besides, my heart belongs to another." Smiling, I pressed a kiss on the Doctor's cheek, taking his attention off William, who nodded and turned his attention to Martha.

"What did you say?" Glancing at the woman, I realised she didn't know whether to be offended by his words.

"Whoops. Isn't that a word we use nowadays? An Ethiop girl? A swarth? A Queen of Afric?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this."

"It's political correctness gone mad," I noted, explaining he meant no offence.

"Er, Martha's from a far-off land. Freedonia."

Just then, a man in expensive clothes entered the room, his gold chain rattling against his large abdomen. "Excuse me! Hold hard a moment. This is abominable behaviour. A new play with no warning. I demand to see a script, Mister Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."

"Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it 'round," Shakespeare responded.

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

"I can't."

"Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled."

"It's all go 'round here, isn't it?" Martha questioned.

"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." The man soon left the room, leaving nothing but the sound of his footsteps on the stairs and the clanging of his chains.

"Well then," Martha started, taking a sip of her drink, "mystery solved. That's Love's Labours Won over and done with. Thought it might be something more, you know, more mysterious."

I shook my head, feeling that wasn't the case. Sighing, I reached for the tankard in front of me only for the Doctor to push it further away from me. I turned and pouted, really wanting something to quench my thirst. When he hadn't wavered, I returned my attention to Martha and William. "Things are never that simple," I commented before a man's voice rang through the air. We all ran out to investigate, hearing women scream for help as we did.

Lynley, the official censor of the area and the man who had yelled at Shakespeare staggered around, with his hands on his chest, profusely spewing up water.

"It's that Lynley bloke."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Does it really matter? He's dying!"

"Right, leave it to me," the Doctor replied as I pushed him forward. "I'm a doctor."

"So am I, near enough," Martha added, grabbing hold to his other arm. Forcing out one more mouthful of water, he groaned and collapsed to the ground. Instead of aiding Martha, the Doctor looked around to look for the source. "Got to get the heart going. Mister Lynley, come on. Can you hear me? You're going to be all right." I stood back as the Doctor returned to help her, watching the two of them try to save the man. Nothing made sense to me. Love's Labours Won is the rumoured play and at this point, it seemed as if someone were trying to get it out, as if they were going after those intent on stopping the performance. Something was at work and whatever it was, it didn't have good intentions. As Martha began to clear the man's airways, water gushed from his mouth. "What the hell is that?"

"I've never seen a death like it. His lungs are full of water. He drowned. I don't know, like a... blow to the heart? An invisible blow," the Doctor said before standing and turning to the innkeeper who had called for assistance. "Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural, if unfortunate, demise. Call the constable, have him taken away."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll do it, ma'am," a girl in a dark dress said. She had only just come from upstairs, something that seemed extremely odd to me since everyone else was outside. I watched her as she left, my suspicions arising as I caught the slight formation of a smile. I frowned at the action, feeling and knowing she had something to do with the man's death.

"And why are you telling them that?"

"This lot have still got one foot in the Dark Ages. If I tell them the truth, they'll panic and think it was witchcraft."

"Okay, what was it, then?"

"Witchcraft."

When we returned to Shakespeare's room, the man plopping himself in his chair. I sighed, leaning against the Doctor. I was exhausted, mainly from the regeneration. It had started to go wrong in the beginning, an effect from my mixed blood and the cocktail I'd taken. Out of all my regenerations, this was by far the most painless and less taxing. Looking up, I noticed him watching me, worried. Even if I couldn't hear his thoughts, something that I missed greatly, I had known him well enough to decipher his faint expressions. "I got you a room, Sir Doctor, as well as you Dame Cerys and Martha. You are just across the landing and the ladies are next door."

"Thank you, Dolly but I think I'll share with the Doctor."

"Of course."

"We can all fit in one room. None of us are too big." I shot Martha a glance, which she returned, shrugging. It seemed as if the Doctor had made an impression on her. I wasn't the jealous type… at least I thought I wasn't. It seemed as if this incarnation was a bit more possessive of him.

"Then your room is across the landing."

"Poor Lynley. So many strange events. Not least of all, this land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor?"

"Where a woman can do what she likes," Martha told him proudly. I couldn't help but chuckle at the fact he brought the conversation to her, especially after the death of a man.

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

"I do a lot of reading."

"A trite reply. Yeah, that's what I'd do. And you," he said his attention back on Martha, "you look at him like you're surprised he exists. He's as much of a puzzle to you as he is to me. But you, Dame Cerys, are attuned to him, as he is you."

"I should hope so."

"But there's sadness in your eyes as well as fear… a fear of being loved, perhaps?" I took in a breath of air in shock. While I was impressed, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread, as if I had been left before a crowd stark naked. While my secret hadn't been revealed, I knew that the Doctor would want to know the reason for the man's words.

"I think we should say goodnight," Martha stated before leaving the room.

Shakespeare nodded, agreeing with her. "I must work. I have a play to complete. I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor, and I'll discover more about you and why this constant performance of yours."

"All the world's a stage."

"Hmm. I might use that. Goodnight, Doctor, Cerys."

The Doctor moved his arm from my waist to around my shoulders. "Nighty night, Shakespeare." We then made our way to the room we were sharing with Martha. "You wanted to share a room with me?"

I blushed, thinking of just how it came off. While I was in no way averse to sharing a room with him, I wasn't ready for that step yet. I was too afraid and I hadn't truly let him in. Hell, we couldn't even connect. Just because I had regenerated hadn't meant my prior insecurities had dissipated. There was always that nagging sensation that even though we were bound, I wasn't good enough for him, no matter how much he said or did to convince me otherwise. Still the fact that he had brought up what I had said so happily, I couldn't help but feel somewhat embarrassed. "Shut up."

"Rys..."

I pulled away from him, trying to hurry back to the room in an attempt to conceal my red cheeks. "Shut up." Before I had gotten too far, he stopped and grabbed my arm, turning me to him, hungrily pressing his lips to mine. It was the only moment we had alone since I'd regenerated and as it deepened, I was pushed into the wall, his body pinning me to it. I ran my hands through his hair, revelling in its softness and earning a low moan from him. Pulling away, I tapped his nose, smiling up at him. "We should do this more often." He gave a throaty laugh and pulled me into the room.

Once inside, I jumped onto the bed, sprawling myself on the left side. Martha stood by the Doctor, holding a candle. Something about how close she was to him irritated me. I shook the thought away, chuckling at myself. This one was definitely more possessive than any of the others.

"It's not exactly five star, is it?" Martha asked as she closed a cupboard.

The Doctor shut the door. "Oh, it'll do. I've seen worse."

"I haven't even got a toothbrush."

"Oh, um…" He patted his pockets and produced one. "Contains Venusian spearmint."

"So, who's going where? I mean, there's only one bed."

"We'll manage. Come on."

"No, she's right. You can sleep on the floor."

"What, and let Martha keep the bed?"

"I was going to sleep on it as well."

"If I'm on the floor, you are too."

"Fine, I'll sleep on the floor."

"You're on the bed. The three of us." I grumbled but agreed, interjecting that it would be a tight and uncomfortable fit.

"So, magic and stuff. That's a surprise. It's all a little bit Harry Potter."

"Wait till you read book seven. Ohh! I cried." I smiled, making a note to read through the series.

"But is it real, though- I mean, witches, black magic and all that- it's real?"

"Course it isn't." He came and scooted me over so that he was on the end. It left me in the middle of him and Martha, not that I minded. Although I had no misgivings against her, I didn't want her anywhere near the Doctor.

"Well, how am I supposed to know? I've only just started believing in time travel. Give me a break."

"Looks like witchcraft but isn't," I explained.

"Can't be," he finished before looking up at the woman. "Are you going to stand there all night?"

She walked over and placed the candle on the end table. "Budge up a bit, then," she said to me as she squished in. I grumbled and pushed the Doctor off the bed. There was no way the three of us would fit on the tiny cot. "Sorry, there's not much room. Us three here, same bed. Tongues will wag."

"Highly doubt that one. While this is London, most would think he slept on the floor, you know, being the gentleman he is," I replied as the Doctor stood from the flooring glaring at me. Smirking, I blew him a kiss.

He ignored my quip and went to sit in the arm chair. "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. No. There's something I'm missing."

"Yeah, like something's staring you in the face and you can't see it. I'm getting that too."

"Rose would know. A friend of mine, Rose, her sister. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing."

"Or say something that would have us at outs for a few adventures. Besides, even Rose would have a bit of a problem figuring this out."

He smiled at me, silently agreeing to my comment. "Still, can't be helped. You're a novice, never mind. I'll take you back home tomorrow."

"Great," Martha deadpanned before she then blew out the candle and got comfortable.

A few hours later, I sat up, feeling as if something major was going to happen. Rushing past the Doctor, who had also been awake, I ran to the door, not noticing his watchful eyes. Just as my hand touched the doorknob, a scream cut through the early morning air. Without waiting for the pair, I raced out of the room, leaving them to follow me to Shakespeare's chamber.

The man was standing, his eyes wide, terrified and confused. "What? What was that?"

I looked down to see Dolly lying on the floor, dead. The Doctor and Martha finally joined us, the two trailing my gaze. The former couched down, inspecting the deceased woman. "Her heart gave out. She died of fright."

As he said that, I travelled to the window, seeing the silhouette of a woman against the moon. It looked like the stereotypical witch flying across the sky cackling, something that didn't calm my suspicions or worries. "Doctor?" I called, the man in question joining me a moment later.

"What did you see?"

"A witch. It was laughing as it flew away on its broom." I turned to face him, not truly believing what I saw. Whatever we were dealing with, wanted us to believe they were witches… and that didn't sit well with me. With a quick squeeze to the Doctor's hand, I left the room, deep in thought.

When I returned, the sun had begun to rise and I found Shakespeare sitting at his desk, Martha leaning against it and the Doctor against the wall. Shakespeare seemed to be in despair, the loss of Dolly a blow to him. "Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey. She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place when we all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so?" The man took to his chair. "She had such enormous spirit."

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light," the Doctor recited, quoting Dylan Thomas, distracted as he tried to solve the mystery before us. I joined him by the wall, leaning back against his body. When I was comfortable, he wrapped his arms around my torso and rested his chin on the top of my head.

"I might use that."

"Can't. Someone else's words," I told him absentmindedly as I played with the Doctor's fingers, still thinking.

"But the thing is," Martha started, "Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright, and they were both connected to you."

"You're accusing me?"

"No, but Rys saw a witch flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."

"I have? When was that?"

"Not yet," I informed her, giving a bit of an eye roll. I wasn't really upset with her, or annoyed even. It was the situation that bothered me. I could feel the answer staring me in the face but for the life of me I couldn't grasp it. I hated that feeling, the one of knowing but not knowing. Moments as such often left me in a fit of rage until I figured it out, wanting to be alone with my thoughts until I did. Yet in this situation, locking myself away would do nothing to help the situation.

"Peter Streete spoke of witches."

"Who's Peter Streete?"

"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."

"The architect. Hold on." The Doctor pushed forward, keeping his grip on me as he did. If he hadn't, the sudden movement would have sent me to the floor. Glancing at him, I waited for him to continue his thought. "The architect! The architect! The Globe! Come on!"

We stood on the stage of the Globe Theatre. While Martha and Shakespeare stood on the stage, the Doctor was in the pit while I wandered around, pondering the atmosphere of the place. As I reached the side of the stage, realization hit me. I let out a low groan and walked back to the Doctor, only for him to start pacing. "The columns there, right, and fourteen sides. I've always wondered, but I never asked. Tell me, Will. Why fourteen sides?"

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

"Fourteen. Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen."

"There's fourteen lines in a sonnet," Martha offered.

"So there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design. Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets. Oh, my head!" He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up. "Tetradecagon. Think! Think! Think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!"

"Don't strain yourself, dear. And stop hitting yourself."

He glanced at me, realizing what I had said. "You figured it out? Tell me."

"No."

"Please?" I smirked, shaking my head.

"This is just a theatre."

"Just a theatre?" I questioned, shaking my head. "Maybe to you but it's also magic. With the right words, the right emphasis, and the perfect timing, you could make a person weep with sorrow or cry with joy. The theatre changes them, their minds. All it takes are the right words."

"You are brilliant."

"Tell me about it later."

"It's like the police box. Small wooden box with all that power inside."

"Oh. Oh, Martha Jones, I like you. Tell you what, though. Peter Streete would know. Can I talk to him?"

"You won't get an answer. A month after finishing this place, lost his mind."

"Why? What happened?"

"Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. His mind was addled."

"Where is he now?"

"Bedlam."

"What's Bedlam?"

"Bethlem Hospital. The madhouse."

"We're going there. Right now. Come on."

"Wait! I'm coming with you. I want to witness this at first hand." As we walked out, two men entered the theatre. "Ralph! The last scene as promised. Copy it, hand it round, learn it, speak it. Back before curtain up. And remember, kid, project. Eyes and teeth. You never know- the Queen might turn up. As if. She never does." Once done, he joined us as we walked down Southwark. "So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors, writers, actors."

"This country is ruled by a woman."

"Ah, she's royal. That's God's business. Though you are a royal beauty." I chuckled and pulled the Doctor to a stop, noticing that the pair had come to a halt behind us.

"Whoa, Nelly! I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country."

"But Martha, this is Town."

"Come on. We can all have a good flirt later."

"Is that a promise, Doctor?"

"Oh, fifty seven academics just punched the air."

I laughed at his musing. "Probably not, Will. He's only allowed to flirt with me."

"And why is that?" Martha questioned. I glanced at her wondering whether I should be worried before realising that she was genuinely curious.

"You ask him. You are his companion," I teased, giving her a smile so that she'd know I wasn't being serious.

"Doctor?" As we shared a glance, I realised she was doing so as well, hoping to get a bit of fun.

"Oh, we don't have time for this. Now move!" I laughed knowing she wouldn't get an answer and grabbed his hand, smiling as he squeezed it.

When we reached Bethlem Hospital, I stopped at the door, not really wanting to enter. I knew it was a madhouse and I knew the emotions that permeated the place but I didn't want to feel it. It would hurt too much. I felt arms encircle my waist as I was pulled towards the Doctor. Finding comfort, I cleared my mind and built my mental walls so that I would not be affected by the emotions. When it was done, I pulled out of his arms and tapped his nose, thanking him. Smiling, he took my hand and we entered the hospital.

"Does my Lord Doctor wish some entertainment while he waits?" the keeper asked as we walked past a cell with a man frantically reaching out. "I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for you. Mad dog in Bedlam."

"No, I don't."

"Well, wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies." The Keeper walked away, slamming a hand against one of the doors to silence the person behind it.

"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?"

"Oh, it's all so different in Freedonia."

"But you're clever. Do you honestly think this place is any good?"

"I've been mad. I've lost my mind. Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose."

"Mad in what way?"

"You lost your son," the Doctor said, his face emotionless to the others but I knew what he felt. The pain that came with losing a child was worse than anything. For our people, it was second to losing an Ame Soeur but it was just as painful. I rested my head against his arm, thinking of our child. He would have been 482 if he were alive. A stray tear fell as I thought of the man he could have been.

"My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."

"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."

"Write that down," I said with a small smile.

"Maybe not. A bit pretentious?"

"This way, my lords!" We walked to the end of the corridor, the wails of the people imprisoned suffocating me. We came to a stop when we reached Peter Streete's cell. Walking into the cell, we saw the man was hunched over in a corner, with rags for clothes and his back to us. "They can be dangerous, my lord. Don't know their own strength."

"I think it helps if you don't whip them. Now, get out!" The keeper hastily left after the Doctor's outburst as I grabbed his face, looking into his eyes until he calmed. Martha watched from the side, a glint of awe in her eyes. It was almost as if she couldn't believe one gesture could calm his rage. Finally calm, we walked over to huddled mass. "Peter. Peter Streete?"

"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him."

I ignored him and walked over, crouching as well. "Peter?" I gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Peter looked up, staring at me, wide eyed. Exchanging a glance with the Doctor, I stood and moved aside, allowing him to do what he could. Watching, he placed his fingers on Peter's temples, entering his mind, just as he had with Rinette. The memory of that adventure brought up an unpleasant feeling that I quickly pushed away. There was too many suppressed feelings from those adventures and it seemed the longer they remained that way, the more it eat at me. Even still, I didn't want to dwell on that. I was with the Doctor and it made me happier than anything to just be with him. I didn't want to worry or give in to my insecurities. I didn't want to be that person anymore. I refused to be her.

"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. Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story, A Winter's Tale. Let go. That's it. That's it, just let go." He laid Peter onto his cot. "Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."

"Witches… spoke to Peter. In the night, they whispered. They whispered." He began to wildly gesture at his ear as if he were hearing something. "Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design. The fourteen walls. Always fourteen. When the work was done…" he began to laugh. "They- they snapped poor Peter's wits."

"Where did Peter see the witches, where in the city?" The Doctor knelt down so that they were eye to eye. "Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me, where were they?"

He began to pant. "All Hallows Street."

Suddenly a witch appeared, leaning over the Doctor's shoulder. "Too many words."

"What the hell?"

"Just one touch of the heart."

"No!" Ignoring the Doctor, the creature tapped Peter's chest and with a scream of pain, he took his final breath.

"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!"

"Now, who would be next, hmm? Just one touch. Oh, oh! I'll stop your frantic hearts," she mocked. "Poor, fragile mortals."

"Let us out! Let us out!"

"Honestly, Martha, do you think that's going to work? The entire building's screaming that," I verbalized to the terrified woman. I could understand the reaction but even in her fear, she should have known that wouldn't work, especially not in this place.

"Who will die first, hmm?"

"Well, if you're looking for volunteers," the Doctor answered, taking a step towards her.

"No! Don't!"

"Shush."

"Doctor, can you stop her?"

"No mortal has power over me."

"Oh, but there's a power in words. If I can find the right one. If I can just know you… although she has probably figured this out."

"I have."

"None on Earth has knowledge of us."

"Then it's a good thing we're here. Now think, think, think- humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy. Ah! Fourteen!" the creature gave an indignant sigh and backed away. "That's it! Fourteen!"

"Think the fourteen stars of the Rexal planetary configuration," I added, smiling as I watched him work it out.

"Creature, I name you… Carrionite!" The creature screamed and disappeared in a flash of light.

"What did you do?"

"I named her. The power of a name. That's old magic."

"There's no such thing as magic."

"Of course there is," I said. "It's just a different kind of science. Humans chose mathematics and the Carrionites use words."

"Use them for what?"

"The end of the world."

Hey all! So, this update is a bit late and my apologises. I've been working 30 hour weeks while going to school full time so I haven't had much time to post the new chapter. I also ended up in the hospital again. But anyways, they are adorable. When I first wrote these first few chapters, I was going to make Martha try to pursue the Doctor even with the obvious love between the Doctor and Rys but considering how Martha's family was broken up in a similar way, it didn't seem to make sense. Honestly, I like this version a lot better, especially since Rys is coming into her new body and discovering what type of woman she is. So far we have her discovering that is actually quite possessive of our travelling Time Lord. We'll see how this plays out throughout the season. And what did you think of Time Heist? I honestly wanted more of Clara, as well as to know about her and Danny's date. They're so friggen cute together. It was an episode I enjoyed (although I enjoy most of them) and the 'twist' at the end was great. But let me know what you think. With that said, I want to thank all who followed and reviewed the story. It makes me so happy. I can say that Her Secrets has hit the hundred review mark YAY! ^.^ I think just because, I'll leave a s surprise after the reviews.

NicoleR85: That's exactly what I meant. 'Cerys' has died, it was a part of her that held all of her insecurities and doubts. Compared to Rys, she was so emotionally unstable and had so many problems. With the new body, came a new personality, a new resolve. She's confident and doesn't want to be the person who pushes him away, who won't let her insecurities get to her. She still has them, something that's seen in the beginning of the chapter, but she decides not to let it affect her as it would in her previous body.

geogirl2014: The addition of Donna will definitely be a trip. Thanks so much and I'm so glad you're enjoying the story.

I'm-a-Klaus-addict: I totally killed her. I had no choice. Rys held me at gunpoint :'( Honestly, your hair, although it was a seemed to be a bit of a mishap, sounds awesome. I'd love my hair to be that colourful and am hoping to go half Tardis blue and half Lilac, depending on if I can get a better job since mine only accepts "natural" hair colours. Her new appearance will definitely bring on a badass sort of attitude... well kind of, I hope. I've been trying to get my dad to watch Doctor Who with me but he keeps flaking. I did find someone I could watch the show with but I've only just made their acquaintance so I won't be visiting their house anytime soon. But things are getting a whole lot interesting between the lovers.

So, I promised a surprise, so here it is. I give you a sneak peak into an upcoming chapter.

After making our way over the river, we ended up in Central Park. As we walked through, I couldn't help but giggle like a young girl as I took in the beautiful surroundings. Excited, I took off ahead of the two, running around in pure elation. Behind me, I could hear the Doctor and Martha laughing at me. I turned and stuck my tongue out at them before running up to the Doctor and slapping his arm, winking as I ran away. Almost immediately, he took off after me.

As I ran through the trees, I saw Martha watching us, an amused expression on her face as she sat on a bench. Removing my gaze from her, I turned to see the Doctor quickly gaining on me. Letting out another giggle, I took off into a maze of trees, trying to evade him as stealthily as possible, which didn't happen. As I hid behind a tree, I didn't notice him sneaking up behind me until his arms were around me waist. "I win," he muttered, his breath tickling my ear. I turned and faced him, a sultry smile on my lips. Without saying a word, I grabbed the lapels of his coat and pulled him closer, his lips meeting mine without hesitation. After a great snog session, I pushed him away, giving him a quick peck as he pouted. Once we were straightened up, we made our way back to Martha.