"But how do you travel in time? What makes it go!?" Martha was questioning as the TARDIS shook in its violent ways as was the usual.
The Doctor, trying to 'pilot', actually jumped on the console. "Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything. Martha, you don't wanna know. It just does now hold on tight!"
"Hey, she's asking some very good questions that - AH!" The TARDIS had shaken far too violently that it threw all of us down.
Once the TARDIS came to a stop, the only sound in the room was our collective jagged breathing.
"Blimey!" Martha sat upright with a laugh. She looked terrified yet fascinated - the perfect combination for someone aboard the TARDIS. "Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?"
"Yes, and I failed it," the Doctor casually answered as he got up. He strode for the doors, licking up his trench coat on the way.
"Shocker!" I called to him while I helped Martha stand up. "How hard is it to drive a box?"
"Oi, it's a lot harder than you think," he threw me a sharp look as he fixed his coat.
"Aha...''
"Now make the most of it, Martha. You get one trip and one trip only," he explained once Martha and I joined him at the doors.
"I don't think she needs a reminder," I said serious, really not liking the way he said that. I knew he didn't want a replacement for Rose but did he really have to remind Martha about this one-trip deal? Martha wasn't at fault for the unfortunate ending of Rose.
"Where are we?" Martha asked as soon as we stepped out.
We were in an Elizabethan street in the dark night. People were off and about in their errands in the old street, not even realizing we'd literally came out of a box.
"Oh you're kidding me!" Martha gasped, "You're so kidding me!"
"We're really not," I chuckled at her. Her eyes looked ready to pop from her eyes. I wondered of this is what I (and Rose) looked like to the Doctor when we took our first trip.
"We actually time traveled! Where are we? No, sorry-" Martha shook her head, unaware that she was rambling too fast to properly understand her questions. "I gotta get used to this whole new language! When are we?"
"Hey, she sounds just like you now," I nudged the Doctor.
"Ha, ha," he rolled his eyes. He suddenly pulled Martha back as man above dumped out something from a bucket.
"Mind the loo!" the man yelled.
I stared in disgust, "Apparently we're somewhere before the invention of a toilet."
"I've seen worse. I've worked the late night shift at AE," Martha shrugged, not at all perturbed.
We smiled and continued to walk. However, she lingered behind a bit.
"But are we safe?" she made us turn around, "Can we move around and stuff?"
"Of course we can. Why do you ask?" the Doctor seemed somewhat confused as he looked back to the woman.
"It's like in the films. You step on a butterfly; you change the future of the human race," Martha looked around, genuinely worried.
I chuckled, "Then don't step on butterflies!"
"What have butterflies ever done to you?" the Doctor said and continued walking.
"What if, I don't know, what if I kill my grandfather?"
"You planning to?"
"No!"
"Well, then," the Doctor smiled, amused.
"This is London," Martha finally walked.
"This seems about late 1500s, right?" I asked, glancing about.
"1599 to be exact," the Doctor corrected.
"Not that far off," I said proudly, "I'm getting better at it."
"Oh, but hold on," Martha began once more, "Am I alright? I'm not gonna get carted off as a slave, am I?"
I turned around, frowning at such an idea, "Martha!"
"What?" she chuckled lightly, "Who do you think they're gonna take? The brunette with jade eyes and pop perfect peach-colored skin..." she signed, holding up her hand, "Or me?"
"They'd have to take us both of us," I moved beside her, "Because I wouldn't let anyone take my friend. And in any case, he's not even human," I gestured to the Doctor.
"Elizabethan England is not so different from your time," he explained, "Look, they even got recycling."
"So you two just...time travel?" she asked, glancing between us.
"Yup," the Martian and I answered.
"...together?"
"Okay, see, that right there," I pointed as I left her and moved up to the Doctor. We both shared an agreeing nod then turned to Martha. "Why does everyone ask that in that tone?"
"Mhm," the Doctor hummed in agreement.
"I don't get it."
"Do you think it has something to do with us?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, "How we interact? Or...I don't know," I scratched my head.
Martha raised a hand, as if to be picked on for the correct answer, "I don't know, it's just a bit...odd, that's all."
The Doctor and I shared a glance, before I spoke to Martha, "What is? The time travel, or the man and woman's friendship? If I were you, I'd go with the time travel."
"Humans," the Doctor shook his head, earning a whack from me.
"Okay, okay, I get it," Martha gestured with her hands, "I should be focusing on the whole time travel business. But cut me some slack," she walked up to us, "A couple of hours ago I thought you," she pointed to me, "were a school volunteer and you," she pointed to the Doctor, "were just a patient."
"Well I was, but then he," I gestured to the alien, "stuck his nose into my school work and found the hospital which apparently had plasma coils."
"Excuse me, I did not stick my nose into your work," the Doctor said defensively.
"Yeah, then what we're you doing reading my English journal?"
"...I got curious," he mumbled.
"And then I'm the one that causes trouble!"
"Leonardo Da Vinci," he spat, having the audacity to even be irritated.
" Oh, we're on that page, are we Martian?"
"What happened with Leonardo Da Vinci!? What? What?" Martha, excitedly, asked.
"Martha, there's one thing you have to know if you're going to travel with the Doctor. It's okay for all the women to fall for him but god forbid that one man falls for you."
"That's not true!" the Doctor was quick to yell.
"The painter had a crush on me," I explained, ignoring the Martian for the moment, "He wanted to paint me but the idiot over here ruined it and now the painter hates us...well, him more than me. There was a lot of running around that city."
"He was twice your age!"
"Says the man that's 903 years old!"
"You're 903 years old?" Martha blinked, staring at him in awe.
He looked between us, lost for words for either cause until, "Yes, but...Minerva!"
"Those women were what, 25? Maybe 30?" I raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk on my face as I knew I had won.
"So I get protective of my friends, is that a crime?"
"Well he's got you there," Martha nodded.
"Yes, okay," I agreed, "But, there is a difference between protective and overprotective. And you," I pointed to the Doctor, "have surpassed that difference."
He opened his mouth to retaliate when Martha's hand covered his, which I took as an advantage and opened my mouth to continue...when her other hand covered mine, "Are we just going to argue all night?" she asked, looking between us, "Because I'd really like to see something in this trip."
The Doctor pushed her hand down and nodded, "Yeah, of course we are," he turned and walked ahead.
"Sorry," I linked arms with her and followed the Doctor, "We tend to do that a lot, lately."
"No worries, you should see my brother and sister when they get started," she shook her head.
"If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark right next to..." the Doctor pulled us towards the corner of the street and turned us to find a...building? "Oh, yes, the Globe Theatre!" He exclaimed, "Brand new. Just opened. Though, strictly speaking, it's not a globe ; it's tetradecagon-14 sides-containing the man himself."
My mouth fell slightly open, "Do you mean Shakespeare is in there?"
"Oh yes!"
"Oh my god..." Martha looked as if she had just won the lottery, "He's really in there!"
"Would you ladies accompany me to the theatre?" he held out his arms for us.
Martha and I linked arms with him, "We'd love to!" I answered.
"Martha, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare when you get home," he said as we walked for the theater.
"Then I could get sectioned!" she exclaimed then laughed.
~0~
I don't think I've ever been so excited for a play. But it was just so amazing...and written by Shakespeare! I loved his plays! And it was mighty surprising that the Doctor managed to get through the entire play quietly. Usually he'd make remarks about whatever play we were seeing - I still hadn't forgiven him for ruining Othello - but this time, his lips were sealed.
"That's amazing! Just amazing," Martha praised when the play had finished and the actors were taking their bows. "It's worth putting up with the smell. And those are men dressed as women, yeah?"
"London never changes," the Doctor replied.
"Forget that, I wanna see Shakespeare!" I exclaimed, frantically searching for the man.
"Me too!" cried Martha, "Author! Author!" she chanted with her fist in the air, "Do people shout that? Do they shout 'Author'?"
A man beside us picked up her chant and soon, the whole audience picked it up.
"I guess they do now," I laughed, joining in on the chant as well.
And finally, the man of the hour emerged on stage, taking his bows and blowing kisses.
"It's Shakespeare!" I exclaimed, beaming, "It's really him!"
"Now there's a genius! The genius!" the Doctor said, "The most human Human that's ever been. Now we're gonna hear him speak. He always choose a the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words.
"Shut your big fat mouths!" Shakespeare yelled, sending the audience into laughter.
"Oh, well..." the Doctor frowned, disappointed.
I smiled, "Well they do say never meet your heroes."
"And yet, you're here," he reminded.
"I said I love the man's work, I never said he was my hero," I countered.
"You have excellent taste!" Shakespeare continued, "I'll give you that. I know what you're all saying. 'Loves Labor'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. All in good time. You don't rush a genius," he took another bow and suddenly stood right back up, almost like a jerked up, "When? Tomorrow night. Come tomorrow night for my brand new play. A sequel, no less, and I call it 'Loves Labor's Won'!"
As we exited the theater, I felt somewhat confused with Shakespeare's words. As far as I could remember, nobody in the present knew about the play he announced for tomorrow. "Uh, Doctor, I don't know if I'm right or not but...I don't really recall that new play 'Loves Labor's Won'. And I've read most of his plays..."
"It's the lost play. It doesn't exist," the Doctor replied, "It's in rumors. It's mentioned in list of his plays but never ever turns up. No one knows why."
"We could tape it," Martha suddenly said, "Sell it when we get home and make a mint."
The Doctor flatly looked at her, "No."
"That would be bad?" she asked, slowly getting it.
"Yeah."
"Um, so how come this play disappeared?" I asked, bringing their attention back.
"Well..." the Doctor looked between Martha and I, "I was just gonna give Martha a quick little trip in the TARDIS but I suppose we could stay a little longer."
I smiled at Martha, "Meaning we get to meet Shakespeare upfront."
~0~
"Hello!" the Doctor led us into the room that held the one and only, Shakespeare, "We're not interrupting, are we?"
"Oh, no, no, no, no. Who let you in? No autographs," Shakespeare was too engrossed in his writing to look up yet. "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 finally raised his head to give us the time of day. "Hey, nonny nonny. Sit right down here next to me," he gestured to Martha, his eyes gleaming at her, "And you two," he looked to the two men beside him, "Get sewing on them costumes. Off you go."
"Come on, lads. I think our William's found his new muse," a woman with a tray led the others out.
"Sweet lady," Shakespeare motioned for Martha to sit down. Martha smiled sheepishly and sat across his desk.
"I love your work," I walked up to his desk and plopped down beside Martha, "It's brilliant!"
He smiled, "And another sweet."
I smiled brighter, "Oh...thank you...you're very kind."
"Such unusual clothes," he observed both of us, "So...fitted."
Martha and I looked each other, examining our outfits. They were pretty normal for our time but perhaps not for the current era.
I wore a black, long-sleeved shirt tucked under a yellow and black plaid skirt with tights underneath and black flats. Martha, on the other hand, wore her party outfit that consisted of jeans, her brilliant red jacket, and a blouse underneath, with boots. Wise girl...
The Doctor moved up and held out his psychic paper to Shakespeare, "I'm sir Doctor of TARDIS and these are my companions, Minerva Souza and Martha Jones."
Shakespeare observed the paper for a moment then looked up, "Interesting, that bit of paper. It's blank."
"Oh, that's...very impressive," the Doctor blinked, looking to the paper, "That proves it. Absolute genius."
Martha took the psychic paper from the Doctor and studied it. She frowned at it seconds. "No. It says so right there. Sir Doctor, Minerva Souza, Martha Jones. It says so."
"And I say it's blank," Shakespeare smiled at her.
The Doctor took back the psychic paper, "Psychic paper. Um, long story," he frowned, glancing at me, "Oh I hate starting from scratch."
"I think it's nice," I countered, smiling at Martha, "It's refreshing to have another friend with us."
"Psychic," Shakespeare tested the word, "Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you? More's the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady?"
Martha's eyes widened, "What did you say?"
"Oops...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," Martha looked away.
"Maybe you should stop," I chuckled, "We're not from around here."
"They're from a far off land," the Doctor explained, "Freedonia."
"Excuse me!" a man barged into the room, "This is abominable behavior. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script. 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, Lynley," Shakespeare waved him off.
Lynley looked indignant, "I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine. The script, now!"
"I can't."
"Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled."
"It's all go, 'round here, isn't it?" I remarked.
"I'm returning to my office for a banning order. If it's the last thing I do, Love Labor's Won' will never be played," and with that, Lynley walked off.
"Mystery solved I guess," Martha resolved.
"I find that hard to believe," I muttered, walking for the doors.
"What?" the Doctor followed me.
I peered out into the corridor, "You're telling me 'Love's Labor's Won' is lost because of an angry boss? Please..." I scoffed.
"And why couldn't it be?"
"Have things ever gone so easy for us?" I whispered, making sure Martha or Shakespeare wouldn't hear.
He thought, already knowing the answer, "Well..."
Before he fully answered, there was a scream coming from the outside.
"There you go!" I exclaimed before running towards the scream.
We ran out into the street and saw Lynley on the ground, spitting out water.
"It's that Lynley bloke!" Martha exclaimed.
"What's wrong with him?" I frowned.
"Leave it to men, I'm a doctor," the Doctor ran for Lynley.
"Yeah, well I'm a doctor too!" Martha rushed after him, "Near enough."
With nothing to do to help, I watched over the two "doctors" that were examining Lynley. The Doctor stood around him and looked about in the street, like he was searching for something.
"Gotta get the heart going. Mr. Lynley, can you hear me?" Martha asked, "You're gonna be alright," she prepared to start mouth-to-mouth but water started pouring out from Lynley 's mouth.
"What is that?" My eyes widened in alarm.
The Doctor knelt beside Martha, "I've never seen a death like it. His lungs are full of water, he drowned and then...I don't know...like a blow to the heart, an invisible blow."
"Miss?" I called to the women of the inn. "What was your name?"
"Dolly Bailey, ma'am."
"Dolly, this man died of natural cause to the heart," I said the first words to come to mind, "Can we have some sort of officer or authority take him away?"
"Yes, ma'am," she nodded.
"I'll do it ma'am!" a young brunette girl offered and ran to do the task.
"Why did you tell them that?" Martha demanded from me, slightly irritated.
"No, she did the right thing," the Doctor nodded, "This lot still have got one foot in the Dark Ages. If we tell them the truth, they'll panic and think it was witchcraft."
"Okay, what was it then?"
"Witchcraft."
~0~
"I've got a room, Sir Doctor," Dolly Bailey smiled, "I'm afraid there's only one, however. Is that alright?"
"Just fine," the Doctor assured.
She nodded and left, leaving the Doctor, Martha, Shakespeare and myself to walk walked down the inn's corridors.
"Poor Lynley. So many strange events. Not least of all, this land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor?" Shakespeare looked at Martha, still bewildered.
"Where a woman can do what she likes," Martha nodded proudly, making me chuckle.
"So then, what are you?" the man moved onto me.
"Oh, I'm...more of free traveling girl," I said slowly, hoping that made sense.
"Ah..." he still eyed me, like he was just noticing something, "And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?"
"I do a lot of reading," the Doctor shrugged.
"A trite reply. Yeah, that's what I'd do. But you," he directed himself to Martha again, "You look at him like you're surprised he exists. He's as much of a puzzle to you as he is to me. And then Miss Souza, you look at her and notice such grief in her eyes."
"That's um...that's not true," I forced a dim smile.
"I don't mistake that grief because it's the same one I share, though I assume you're not a mother..."
"God no!" I shook my head, disliking the course in which this conversation was heading for.
"Martha, why don't you take Minerva and see that room, yeah?" the Doctor suggested, already moving me ahead.
"Sure," Martha nodded and we left for that room, "That Shakespeare, huh?" she shook her head with a smile of disapproval.
"Not liking the admirer?" I joked, hoping to forget the man's words fast.
"He's...different," she laughed softly, "Really twice my age now, huh?" she chuckled.
I opened the door to our room, "You're lucky the Doctor's not on your case about it. Still, not every woman can say, 'Shakespeare likes me!'"
"Hm, not very five star," she looked around.
It was a fairly small room with one bed that seemed rather old and two night stands on either side of it. There was a wooden table in the front of the only window with legs that were ready to snap at any moment. The dresser set on the opposite side seemed alright, but I wouldn't trust that my clothes wouldn't have wooden bits if I hung them there.
I headed for the bed, jumping for it and landing on my back, "I've seen worse!"
"You have?"
I nodded as I scooted up to one of the pillows and laid my head down. "I've been on the road and sometimes...there's no motels."
"Really?" she walked up to the foot of the bed.
"Sometimes, I'd settle for the great outdoors."
"Weren't you scared?"
"You wouldn't believe how beautiful the night is when you spend it outside. My favorite place so far is this desert I spent a night in. It was...different," I smiled. I wouldn't tell her that it had been the same night I witnessed a a strange man coming out of the box of wonders after seemingly crasremembering the strange man I had seen with a box of wonders like the Doctor's.
Then again, now that I was well informed, I knew that it was the same TARDIS and it was the same man, just one regeneration later. I gotta say, now that I knew it had been a future Doctor I'd seen, I wished I could've gotten closer to see how he looked. I was only granted a small glimpse of him; he wore bow ties and had nice hair. I wish I could see him again.
But the thing that made me the happiest about that day was the fact that he had called my name out. He wanted to get back to me and that meant we still traveled together. After two regenerations we still traveled together. And on the slight chance we didn't, he was still going back for me...
"You spent a night in the desert?" Martha's eyes widened, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Who did?" the Doctor walked in.
"Minerva!"
"Really?"
"Mhm," I nodded, propping my elbows on the bed and sitting up, "Something else you don't know, it was that same desert where I saw you."
"Um...I don't suppose any of you have a toothbrush?" Martha looked between us, the thought just striking her.
"Oh, wait," the Doctor patted his pockets and pulled out a brush, "Contains Venusian spearmint."
"Oh, thanks," she took it from him, "So, who's going where? There's only one bed."
I turned to the side, snuggling into the pillow, "You two can figure it out. I'm taking this side of the bed. In any case, we could just throw the Doctor to the floor."
"Hm, or we can just throw Minerva on the floor," I heard him mutter.
"No, because then Minerva will hurt you."
"Don't worry you menace, I don't mind the floor," he assured, the sarcasm just dripping from his tongue.
"You should think I'm a menace," I warned with a smirk.
"Um, I'm gonna go and use this," Martha said, assuming she meant the brush, "And, I don't really mind where I end up," I heard her footsteps then the door shut.
A moment later, the bed shuffled. I turned to the other side and saw the Doctor laying down with his hands behind his head.
"What are you doing?" I raised an eyebrow.
"I figured if I'm not gonna sleep here, I should at least get to feel how comfortable it is."
"I was only joking, Doctor. I'll be fine anywhere," I said, moving to sit up.
"No, don't worry about it," he stopped me. I laid back on the pillow, watching him in his thoughts, "I'm sorry for what Shakespeare said to you."
" Huh? Why are you sorry? Wait, what's there to be sorry about in the first place?" I frowned, severely confused.
"And I'm sorry for being so protective of you because you're right, I am overprotective," he shifted to his side, leaving us face to face, "I shouldn't be but I am."
"You know, Shakespeare is like twice the age Martha is, why haven't you acted the same?"
"Because I don't know her and frankly, as rude as it may sound, I don't care," he admitted, and it did sound rude but I awaited for him to explain himself before I snapped at him, "Minerva, I feel like you've been hurt enough and I took it upon myself to make sure that nothing and no one hurts you again."
That damn Martian always manages to escape that scold, doesn't he? I had to smile at him. "That's very sweet of you but I'm okay now. I've got a really good friend with me that makes me happy. Plus, I'm pretty sure Da Vinci wouldn't have hurt me. He just wanted to paint me."
He leaned closer and whispered, "Twice your age and never gonna happen."
"903 and alien," I reminded, "What would those women say, hm?"
"Nothing because they'd be too focused on my looks!"
I laughed, "And the ego rises to incredible levels! Focus on the problem at hand instead!"
"Yeah alright," he said and I assumed the only reason he moved on was to avoid bickering with me. Smart move. "Well, for starters, there is such a thing as psychic energy but a human couldn't channel it like that. Not without a generator the size of a Taunton and I think we've have spotted that."
"Maybe it's not human then," I offered the only logical reason.
"We're missing something, Minerva. Something really close, staring me right in the face and I can't see it."
"I...I don't know," I mumbled, feeling slightly lost in his eyes after he'd shifted closer. I never realized how deeply brown his eyes were. He always moved too fast for me to notice anything about his physical features on a deeper level. "Perhaps-"
"Rose would know," he said, oblivious to what I was thinking. Of course he'd be. "She'd say exactly the right thing."
Even though I tried hiding it, I had to frown, "Was she the only one who would said 'exactly the right thing'?"
"She'd definitely have the right words to calm to my ego," he chuckled, "She'd know what to do next."
"Only one, huh," I turned away from him, very irritated. Nice to know my input mattered to him, "Goodnight."
It doesn't even matter if Rose is stuck in another dimension. All my clever ideas, my words and ways would never suffice in comparison to Rose's. I would still and probably always be second best for him.
~0~
It was the middle of the night when we heard a shout from outside. I jumped out of bed and the Doctor already half way to the door. Martha and I quickly ran after him and entered Shakespeare's room to see Dolly Bailey on the floor, unconscious. Martha ran to the window while the Doctor ran to the woman.
"Her heart gave out. She died of fright," he looked up.
"She's dead?" I blinked, glancing to Shakespeare who was just waking up on his desk.
"Minerva? Doctor?" Martha called from the window.
"What is it?" I walked towards her.
"What did you see?" the Doctor asked.
"A witch."
"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey," Shakespeare sighed, making us turn to him, "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."
"Rage, rage, against the dying of the light," the Doctor walked back to the desk.
"I might use that."
"You can't. It's someone else's.."
"You know," I began thinking, looking straight to Shakespeare, "Lynley and Dolly both died the same day and they were both connected to you. That's a bit strange."
"Are you accusing me?" He quickly jumped on it with alarm.
"No," I shook my head, "It's just strange."
"Yeah, and I saw a witch out there," Martha pointed, "And you've written about witches."
"I have? When was that?" Shakespeare asked, confused.
"Not, not quite yet," the Doctor whispered to Martha,
"Peter Streete spoke of witches," Shakespeare announced.
"Who was that?" I asked.
"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."
"The Architect. Hold on," the Doctor smiled, "The architect! The Globe! Come on!"
~0~
"What exactly are we doing?" Martha inquired once we were near the stage.
I took a seat on the edge of the stage, letting my legs dangle below, "Not exactly sure, but I'm guessing we're about to find out.
"Why are we here?" Shakespeare asked, "I do not understand."
The Doctor had brought us to the Globe Theater with no explanation whatsoever. We watched from the stage as he looked round and round. It was his thought process only it was on speed. He was striding from one place to another, mumbling things under his breath.
"Is he ever going to talk to us?" Martha asked me after a few minutes passed by.
"It's just his way," I whispered. We watched for a bit more until he finally started asking questions out loud.
"The columns there, right?" he began, "14 sides. I've always wondered but I never asked...tell me, Will, why 14 sides?"
"It was the shape Peter Street thought best, that's all. Said it carried the sound well," Shakespeare responded.
"Why does that ring a bell? 14..."
"There are 14 lines a sonnet," Martha offered.
"So there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design. 14 lines, 14 sides, 14 facets...oh my head. Tetradecagon...think, think, think! Words, letter, numbers, lines!"
"This is just a theater!" Shakespeare exclaimed.
"Now hold on," I raised a finger, "A theater could hold much power if the right words are said. Capture the moment and capture the audience," the Doctor pointed to me, agreeing. I smiled, proudly.
"It's like your police box!" Martha exclaimed, "Small wooden box with all that power inside."
"Did I mention I like both of you?" he stopped pacing, "Tell you what, though. Peter Street would know. Can I talk to him?"
"You won't get an answer," Shakespeare shook his head, "A month after finish this place...he lost his mind."
"What happened?" I asked.
"Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. His mind was addled."
"Well, where is he now?" the Doctor asked.
"Bedlam."
"What's Bedlam?" Martha questioned.
"Hospital. It's the madhouse."
"Well I'll tell you one thing," I hopped off the stage, "Suddenly he's not looking so mad now, is he?"
"We need to go there. Let's go," the Doctor walked for the exit.
"Wait! I'm coming with you. I want to witness this at first hand!" Shakespeare cried, rushing to follow us. When he caught up, he wasted no time in flirting around with Martha.
"Do you really think Peter will talk to us?" I asked the Doctor, giving Martha and Shakespeare an occasional look back. Martha seemed very much entertained, although not very approving.
"It's like you said," the Doctor replied, "He might not be that mad."
"I was only suggesting..."
"But you're usually right."
"I am, aren't I?" I smiled.
"Whoah, Nelly!" we heard Martha, "I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country!"
"But Martha, this is Town," Shakespeare reasoned.
"Okay, come on, we can all have a good flirt later," the Doctor looked back.
"Is that a promise, Doctor?" Shakespeare smirked.
"Oh, 57 academics just punched the air," the Doctor frowned as I laughed softly, "Now move!"
~0~
This building was horrible. We passed what seemed like an endless amount of cells with patients who were nowhere near any humane care. All the screams and cries from the 'patients' were so heartbreaking. At least to me anyways because others...well...
"Does my lord, Doctor, wish some entertainment while he waits?" the jailer guiding us asked, "I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for ya!"
"No, I don't!" the Doctor snapped.
"Wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies," the jailer went off.
"This place is disgusting," I spat, "And I'm not talking smell-wise. How could people actually whip these, 'patients'-" I put my fingers in quotation marks, "-to entertain the public?" I shot look at Shakespeare, "You put your friend in here?"
"Oh, and it's all so different in Freedonia?" he raised an eye brow.
"But you're clever!" Martha exclaimed, "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?" I asked, fairly intrigued.
"You lost your son," the Doctor said softly.
"My only boy," Shakespeare looked down, "The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."
"We didn't know," Martha shook her head, "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 it down," I pointed, smiling.
"Hm," he considered it, "A bit pretentious?"
"This way, my lord!" the jailer called us.
We walked up to the cell and waited for it to be unlocked, "They can be dangerous, my lord. Don't know their own strength." the jailer opened it up.
"I think it helps if you don't whip them!" the Doctor said, fairly annoyed, "Now get out!"
"That's Peter?" I pointed to the man sitting against the wall, his legs in front of his chest and head covered with his arms.
"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him," Shakespeare said, staying back.
"Peter?" the Doctor slowly approached him, even placing his hand over Peter's shoulder, "Peter?" Peter looked up, completely silent. The Doctor placed his fingertips on the sides of Peter's temples, "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. Listen. That's it, just let go," Peter lied down on his cot, "Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."
"Witches spoke to Peter. In the night, they whispered. Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design! The 14 walls; always 14. When the work was done..." Peter laughed, "They sapped poor Peter's wits."
"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city?" the Doctor crouched beside him, "Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?"
"All Hallows Street."
"Too many words," an old lady suddenly appeared beside the Doctor. Quickly, he moved back to where we were.
"Who the hell are you?" I demanded.
"Just one touch of the heart," she ignored me, laying her hand on Peter's chest.
"No!" the Doctor yelled.
But Peter shrieked and died in less than a second.
"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!" Shakespeare cried.
"Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals," the woman turned around.
"Let us out! Let us out!" Martha turned to the door, struggling to open it.
"I don't think that's gonna work," I said, looking back, "We're in a madhouse. Everyone wants to get out."
"Who will die first, hm?" the woman pointed at us.
"Well, if you're looking for volunteers," the Doctor walked towards her without a moment's thought.
"Doctor don't! Don't you dare!" I yelled at him but he kept going. Of course he would!
"No mortal has power over me," the woman laughed, wickedly.
"Oh but there's a power in words. If I can find the right one...if I can just know you..." the Doctor stopped a few inches away from the old woman.
"None on Earth has knowledge of us," the woman assured.
"Then it's a good thing I'm here! Now think, think, think...Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy...ah, 14! That's it! 14! The 14 stars of the Rexel planetary configuration! Creature, I name you Carrionite!"
And just like that, she disappeared, crying out.
"What did you do?" I asked, confused just like everyone else was.
"I named her. The power of a name. That's old magic," he turned around with his usual grin on his face.
"But there's no such thing as magic," Martha stated.
"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."
"Use words for what?" Shakespeare asked.
"The end of the world."
"We should go," Martha said, "I don't think I want to spend another minute here."
When the jailer hurried on back and let us out, we walked with a hasty speed.
"I never wanna come back here," I muttered, almost shuddering.
"Hopefully, we won't," the Doctor said. I smacked him without even looking at him and took pleasure when he cried in pain. "What was that for!?" he frowned.
"For scaring me out of my wits!"
"Wha - I wasn't gonna actually die..."
"But I didn't know that! Next time, a little warning would be nice."
"Alright, sorry. "
"So what about these Carrionites?" Martha questioned, moving beside us, "What are they?"
"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe," the Doctor explained, "Nobody was sure if they were real or legend."
"Well, I'm going for real," Shakespeare nodded.
"But what do they want now?" I asked.
"A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."
"But how?" Martha asked, not sure if to herself or for us.
"I'm looking at the man with the words," the Doctor looked straight at Shakespeare.
"But I've done nothing!" he cried, indignantly.
"What were you doing last night when the Carrionite was in the room?" I asked, suddenly thinking.
"Finishing the play."
"What happens on the last page?" the Doctor questioned.
"The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual, except those last few lines..." he paused, "Funny thing is, I don't actually remember writing them."
"That's it. They used you. They gave you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. 'Love's Labor Won', it's a weapon!" the Doctor exclaimed, "The right combinations 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."
Shakespeare smiled, amused. "Very well."
We returned to Shakespeare's room and grabbed a map of the town. They placed it on the desk and began studying it for the street that Peter has given us.
"There it is," Martha pointed, "But...what now?"
"We're gonna track them down," the Doctor said, glancing to Shakespeare, "Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!"
"I'll do it!" he shook the Doctor's hand, "All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."
"Now don't complain," I smiled.
"I'm not. It's marvelous. Good luck, Doctor!"
"Good luck, Shakespeare," the Doctor replied, motioning for Martha and I to head for the door, "Once more unto the breach!"
"I like that. Wait a minute...that's one of mine!" Shakespeare exclaimed.
I chuckled, "I think you just made his day."
"Oh, c'mon!" the Doctor rushed out.
~0~
As we approached All Hallows Street, we looked around at the houses but found ourselves lost for which one it could be.
"This might take a little longer," I frowned, peering into a corner.
"Sorry, but there's something I think I'm missing here," Martha stopped walking, "Last time I remember, the world didn't end in 1599. I'm still here. And so is Minerva."
"Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux?" the Doctor threw his head back, thinking for a moment, "Oh! I know! 'Back to the Future'! It's just like that!"
"The film?"
"No, the novelization. Yes, the film!" he snapped, "Marty McFly goes back and changes history."
"And he starts fading away..." Martha whispered, 'Oh my God, are we gonna fade?"
"You two and the entire future of the human race. It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it."
"Oh great, and I had so many plans," I frowned.
"We need to find that house," the Doctor looked around, "But which one?"
Suddenly, a door to a house ahead of us opened up.
"I...think we found it..." I pointed a shaky finger at the house. Witches. These were actual witches we were going to go face off...
We headed for the house and as soon as we entered we found a familiar brunette woman standing across from us. It was the same young woman that had been there when Shakespeare's boss had died.
"I take it we're expected," the Doctor looked at the woman."
"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time," she smiled, almost taunting him.
"Right then, it's my turn," Martha stepped forth, "I know how to do this. I name thee, Carrionite!" she pointed to the girl but she remained standing, "What did I do wrong? Was it the finger?"
"The power of a name works only once. Observe," the girl pointed at Martha, "I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones."
Martha fell to the ground in that instant. I almost lost it and rushed to her side. "Martha!" I glared up at the girl who couldn't be more smug. "What did you do?"
"Only sleeping, alas. Curious, the name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time. And as for you," She now pointed at me, "For the one that called herself Joy-"
"We have done enough of this," the Doctor cut her off, "What are you doing here?"
The girl, scowling at being cut off, turned to him with a pointing finger, "Well, I guess you'll be next. Now you, Sir Doctor." She paused, seeming confused, "Oh...fascinating. With you, 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 naming won't work on me."
"But your heart grows cold. The north wind blows and carries down the distant..." she leaned closer, a smirk playing on her lips, "Rose."
That set him off. He angrily marched up to her, "Oh, big mistake 'cause that name keeps me fighting! The Carrionites vanished!"
"The Eternals found the right word to banish us into deep darkness."
"And how did you escape?"
"New words. New and glittering from a mind like no other."
"Shakespeare," I whispered in realization.
"His son perished. The grief of a genius."
"Of course, when someone you love dies, your words become powerful," I mumbled.
"Spoken by one that knows the pain," she remarked, making me quiet down immediately.
"Shut up," I muttered, keeping Martha's head off the ground.
"Behold, the one who could not forgive and lost a certain...Liv."
My eyes shot up, and I assumed the anger I felt flourish through my body was the same one that the Doctor felt when the stupid witch brought up Rose. "Shut up!" I jumped up to my feet. ""You better shut your mouth before I shut it for you!"
The Doctor grabbed my arm, pulling me back to his side. "What is that?"
"It's nothing," I tried charging for the girl but he had a good hold on my arm.
"Uh, yeah, definitely nothing. How many of you are there?" he demanded from the girl.
"Start with your name so that I know who I'll hurt," I spat.
She glared, "Just the three. I am Lilith. But the play 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 met her face to face.
"Oh, that should be a pleasure considering my enemy has such a handsome shape," she smirked, running her fingers along his face.
I glared, and when I caught myself I shook my head of it. What was that!?
"Now, that's one form of magic that's definitely not gonna work on me," he said, serious, and to his credit he only seemed irritated she was touching him.
"Oh, we'll see," she pulled a lock of his hair and backed away to the window.
"What did you do!?" he quickly flung his hands to his head.
"Souvenir!"
"Well, give it back!" He rushed after her but she flew out through the window, levitating herself outside.
"Now that's just cheating," he stopped at the windowsill.
I knelt down to Martha, seeing she was waking up again, "Martha? Are you alright now?" I sat her up, "Martha?" I looked back to the pair across from us.
All I saw was the Doctor letting out a shrill cry before falling to the floor. Quickly, I moved to his side, Martha right behind me.
"Oh my god!" I exclaimed, laying him on his back with the help of Martha, "Martha?"
"I've got it!" she listened to his heartbeat, "Hold on, mister." She sat him up, "Two hearts?"
"You're making a habit of this," he moved to stand. When he did, he nearly fell again if Martha and I hadn't caught him, "I've only got one heart working! How do you people cope?" he looked between us.
"'Cause we're not aliens!" I exclaimed, "We're just that good!"
He rolled his eyes, "I've got to get the other one started. Hit me! Hit me on the chest!" Martha did as told, "Ah! Other side!" This time, I hit him, "On the back! On the back!" Martha went again. "Left a bit!" she moved to the left, "Ah, lovely," we let him go and he stood perfectly, "There we go! Ba-da-boom! Well, what are you standing there for?" he looked between us, "Come on! The Globe!"
And we ran again. We were running down the street when he made a turn that we had not made before. I stopped running, out of breath, "We're going the wrong way!" I yelled.
"No, we're not!" he continued. I rolled my eyes and waited just a moment. He ran back and passed me, "We're going the wrong way!"
"You don't say?" I sarcastically gasped and rushed after him.
We stopped in front of the theater which held a red glow shinning up to the sky, Inside, the audience was screaming and scrambling to get out.
"What now?" Martha exclaimed.
"Back door!" the Doctor ordered, and we rushed again.
We ran in through the backstage and found Shakespeare rubbing his head.
"Stop the play! I think that was it," the Doctor rushed up to him, "Yeah, I said, 'Stop the play'!"
"I hit my head!"
"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald," the Doctor muttered. He turned at the sound of the screams that were growing louder, "I think that's my cue!" he ran to the stage.
"Not much of a people person right now, is he?" Martha asked, going to help Shakespeare.
I sighed, "He's a bit busy."
We both helped Shakespeare onto the stage where all the chaos was centered.
"Come on, Will! History needs you!" the Doctor grabbed him.
"But what can I do?" Shakespeare asked, helpless.
"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? I have none ready!"
"You're William Shakespeare!" I reminded, "You always have the right words."
"But these Carrionite phrases, they need such precision!" he shook his head, "I'm not sure if I can do this..."
"Trust yourself," I smiled, "Your words are perfect."
"You think so?"
I nodded, "Didn't I say? I loved all your work."
He smiled, looking out to the audience and sky, "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! Foul Caionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points..." he glanced at the Doctor.
"7-6-1-3-9-0!" the Doctor yelled.
"7-6-1-3-9-0!" And banished like a tinker's cuss, I saw to thee..." He looked to the Doctor for help again.
"Expelliarmus!" Martha suddenly shouted.
"Expelliarmus!" the Doctor joined.
"Expelliarmus!" I yelled afterwards.
"Expelliarmus!" Shakespeare finished it off.
"The deep darkness! They are consumed! Ahh!" Lilith screamed as she and the rest of her kind were sucked up into the cloud...but along with them went every script and copy of the play.
"The play..." I said, sadly, my curiosity of its words getting the best of me.
When the audience saw everything gone, they erupted into applauds and cheers. The Doctor took a bow, as if he were part of the play. The rest of the actors returned and also took their bows.
"They think it was all special effects," Martha looked around.
"Your effect is special indeed," Shakespeare glanced at her.
"Oh Shakespeare," I shook my head, "So many words and so not the right ones..."
~0~
"Okay, I just drank something and it tasted really good...but I don't know what it was," I plopped down in one of the theater's audience seat. Martha and Shakespeare laughed, both sitting on the edge of the stage, "I mean it. Perhaps the Doctor is right...I shouldn't drink everything offered to me."
"Good props store back there! I'm not sure about this though..." the Doctor walked onto the stage wearing a ruff collar and a skull in hand, "Reminds me of a Sycorax. Whaddya think Minerva?"
"Kind of," I shrugged.
"Sycorax. Nice word. I'll have that off you as well," Shakespeare said.
"Copyright it," I joked, earning back a smile from the Martian.
"How's your head?" He walked over to the pair.
"Still aching," Shakespeare sighed.
"Here, I got you this," the Doctor removed his collar and placed it around Shakespeare's neck, "Neck brace. Wear that for a few days till it's better."
I smiled, "Although, it does suit you. Might wanna keep it."
"What about the play?" Martha asked.
"Gone. I looked all over, every single copy of Love Labor's Won went up in the sky," the Doctor shrugged.
"My lost masterpiece," Shakespeare frowned.
"You could write it up again," Martha offered.
"Better not. There's still power in those words," the Doctor pointed, "Maybe it should best stay forgotten."
"I've got new ideas," Shakespeare announced, smiling, "Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons. In memory of my boy; my precious Hamnet."
"Hamnet?" I repeated.
"That's him."
"Hamnet?" I raised an eye brow.
"What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing," I held up my hands in defense, leaning back on my seat, "Nothing..."
"Anyways, time we were off. I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot can scream for all eternity," the Doctor held up the Carrionites' crystal, "And we've gotta take Martha back to Freedonia..."
My smile slightly faded. I didn't really like the idea of that.
"You mean travel on through time and space," Shakespeare corrected.
"You what?" the Doctor blinked, definitely not expecting that.
"You're from another world like the Carrionites and Martha and Minerva are from the future. It's not hard to work out."
The Doctor remained in place, dumbfounded, "That's...incredible. You are incredible."
"We're alike in many ways, Doctor. Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse," he took Martha's hand, "A sonnet for my Dark Lady. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate-"
"Will! Will!" one of the actors ran in, "You'll never believe it! She's here! She's turned up!"
"We're talk of the town!" another actor exclaimed, 'She heart about last night! She wants us to perform it again!"
"Who?" I asked.
"Her Majesty! She's here!"
And then, Queen Elizabeth I herself walked in! My mouth nearly hit the ground from excitement.
"Oh my god!" I cried happily, almost jumping my place. The Doctor held a hand out for me to take and get on stage. "Doctor, it's her! It's a Queen! She's a Queen! She's Queen Elizabeth!"
"I know!" the Doctor exclaimed and I dared to think we were sharing the same stupid grins on our faces. I'd have to ask Martha later on. "Queen Elizabeth I!"
However, when the Queen looked at us both her entire face fell into a deep fury. "Doctor!"
She, on the other hand, did not look so pleased to see him, "Doctor!"
"What?" the Doctor asked, slightly taken back.
"Uh...she looks mad. Doctor she looks mad - why?" I grabbed his arm, shaking him a bit until he shoved my hand off.
"Minerva, quit that!"
"Minerva?" the Queen suddenly glared at me now. "You're Minerva?"
"...I'm afraid to answer..." I admitted and might have grabbed onto the Doctor's arm again, this time out of fear. She looked infuriated with us - the both of us! I've never even met the woman!
"My sworn enemies!" she raged as loud as the wind would carry her voice.
"What!?" the Doctor blinked.
"What is she-"
"Off with their heads!"
"WAIT-" I exclaimed in utter shock but Elizabeth seemed like she'd already decided this a long time ago.
"Off with their heads!"
"Uuh...should we maybe run?" Martha called from below.
"M-Martha makes a good point, Doctor..." I pulled back a step but Elizabeth seemed to have found yet another reason to be angry.
"Martha Jones!?"
Martha froze like a deer caught in headlights.
"She just started traveling with us! Doctor! What did you do!?" I turn on the Time Lord fast, having half a mind to throw him to the Queen so Martha and I could make a run for it. (We'd eventually come back for him with the TARDIS...)
"RUN!" Martha had the good sense to yell at us.
"Right, argue later! C'mon!" I grabbed the Doctor's hand and ran us down the stage, leaving Martha to follow us.
"Stop that pernicious travelers!" We heard Elizabeth yell from behind.
"What just happened!?" Martha was probably scared but she was laughing like she couldn't believe it...and truthfully neither could we.
"No idea! We've never even met her!" the Doctor exclaimed.
"She sure seems to know all of us, though! Way to go you idiot!"
"She called your name too, let's not forget! How do I know it wasn't your fault!?"
"Because it's never my fault!"
"Oh!"
"You guys are hilarious!" Martha said as we reached the TARDIS.
We anxiously waited for the Doctor to unlock it. Elizabeth's guards were incredibly fast.
"You think maybe we could just talk - AH!" I ducked down the moment I saw an incoming arrow. It hit the TARDIS instead but it wasn't the last one coming for us.
"IN!" the Doctor grabbed my arm and shoved me inside. He quickly ran inside and closed the doors, making a hasty sprint towards the console. "Off we go then!"
"What is it that we supposedly did to her!?" Martha continued to laugh as we took off.
"I suppose whatever it was he hasn't done it yet," I shook my head, catching a smell from my hair that hadn't been there five minutes ago, "Oh..." I grabbed a strand of it and sniffed it, "Okay, no more drinking things."
"Told you," the Doctor smirked.
"I asked you to come with me! I don't know my way around drinks," I reminded, "But you wanted to play dress up on the stage."
"I was not playing dress up."
"Mhm," I turned around and headed for the corridors, "Anyways, if you two don't mind, I'm going for a shower. Doctor, if you mind, I'm going to raid the wardrobe again."
"This place has a wardrobe?" Martha asked, sounding shocked, "Really?'
"Comes in handy when you don't have clothes," I shrugged, "Reminds me, I'm gonna need to go back to Earth soon. I have so many things to do. I haven't even turned in my volunteering proof! I don't want to fall behind again."
"Sure," the Doctor said, oddly quietly despite the spectacle that had just happened to us.
"See you in a bit," I waved and rushed off.
Author's Note:
Hello!
Oh, who doesn't love Captain Jack? He's just...wow! .
Yeah, that was one aspect of Martha's season I didn't like, the 'rebound' feeling, oh dear...that's one of the reasons I love Donna most of all; she was one of the few companions that just saw the Doctor as a friend, a best friend. I know Amy was like that too, but not from the start. Ah, Clara...don't like her much, sorry, but I suppose she was also like Amy, crush in the beginning and now (present time) currently moved on.
Aw, really? Even when I haven't updated yet? You're so sweet! I feel special, thank you so much! .
If I make someone fangirl over a chapter then I feel really accomplished because that's what some of my fave authors make me do, eek! So thanks for telling me that!
Next chapter, we get quite the revelation of the guilt poor Minerva carries, wonder what it is, hmm...
Have a nice week and glad to hear your thoughts :)