Chapter Two: The Shakespeare Code Part One

Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or Doctor Who.

"Somehow I pictured this going…smoother," Shawn remarked as the TARDIS rattled around.

"Yeah, I don't mean to complain but what kind of transportation is designed to be this haphazard?" Gus asked. "Surely if they can manage to make it so much bigger on the inside than the outside and disguise it as a 60's police box – which doesn't seem like it'd come in handy much outside the 60s – then they can make it more stable."

"What does any of that have to do with ride stability?" Shawn wondered.

Gus rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean, Shawn. Sufficiently advanced technology in one area would lead you to expect it in another."

"You're right," the Doctor told him. "It can be flown more smoothly."

"Then…why aren't we?" Shawn asked the obvious question. "More fun this way?"

"Well, there's that," the Doctor agreed. "And then there's the fact that it's supposed to be flown with six people and not just one."

"So…do you want us to help fly it or something?" Gus inquired. "I mean, surely three people flying it would make it more stable than one?"

"It would," the Doctor agreed. "But then I'd have to go teaching you how all the buttons work and I'm not positive about that myself. Trust me, it's just easier this way. Come to think of, the fact that I failed the test to operate this might have something to do with the rattling around…"

Gus turned to stare at the Doctor in horror. "Please do not tell me that I just went off with another Shawn!"

"Hey!" Shawn protested. "You like me, remember?"

"But the thought of having two of you has been a recurrent nightmare of mine since roughly five minutes after we met," Gus explained.

"Why?" Shawn demanded. "I think it would be awesome. Of course, the thought of having two of you freaks me out a little. The way I see it, there's an equally good chance of the two of you teaming up and outvoting me so we never did anything as there is one of you coming with me and being awesome while the other went to your other job."

"I think the thought of having two of anybody is a disaster waiting to happen," the Doctor spoke up as the ship came in for a landing (or so they assumed the sudden stop meant). "It wouldn't have been so bad before the…well, before but now…let's just say I've seen two of somebody nearly destroy all of existence. Would have destroyed all of existence if not for one very brave man."

"So what would you do if there were two of you?" Shawn asked him.

"Hm…probably find a way to send him to a parallel universe," the Doctor decided. "It would be tricky to pull off but even if it weren't for the universe-destroying potential, I just don't think that this universe is ready for two of me. Many places aren't even ready for one of me, after all."

"Assuming that your other self doesn't have the same idea and sends you to a parallel universe," Gus pointed out.

The Doctor tapped his chin. "I hadn't actually thought of that…I guess I'll have to make sure to strike first. Assuming it's not a past or future version of myself because that would be bad…But anyway, here we are!"

Shawn and Gus exchanged a look.

"Where are we?" Gus asked.

"Inside of the TARDIS, the same place we've been for the last twenty minutes," Shawn reminded him. "Don't you ever listen?"

Gus ignored the mock-rebuke. "I mean, where are we outside of the TARDIS? Surely not still Santa Barbara in 2007?"

"No, that much I can promise you," the Doctor replied. "It is not Santa Barbara nor the year 2007. Other than that…well, that would be telling, now would it? And remember: this is just one trip. We're going to have a little adventure here and then you're both going right back home. Understand?"

Shawn and Gus turned around to confer.

"Dude, there is no way we're going home after just one trip," Shawn declared.

"Unless we don't like it," Gus told him. "If we don't like it then we're most certainly going home."

Shawn nodded. "Granted but if the Doctor really didn't think we'd like it then why would he make such a big deal about it being only one trip before we even start?"

"He clearly likes it or he wouldn't keep doing it," Gus reasoned. "And so he probably assumes that other people would like it, too, but that doesn't mean that we necessarily will."

"We probably will," Shawn told him.

Gus snorted. "You mean you probably will."

"Gus…time travel! Name one time that's ever been bad," Shawn challenged.

"Back to the Future, Terminator, the Butterfly Effect, the Time Traveler's Wife…" Gus listed off.

"Now you're just making things up," Shawn accused. "Admit it. You're excited to be here."

"I couldn't possibly bring myself to leave you unsupervised with access to a time machine," Gus claimed.

Shawn laughed. "Just keep telling yourself that, buddy."

"So…how are we going to get around this 'one trip' thing?" Gus asked.

Shawn shrugged. "Make use of any and all opportunities to stall?"

They turned back around.

"Are you ready?" the Doctor asked, an eager grin on his face.

"We were born ready," Shawn confirmed.

The Doctor opened the door and gestured dramatically towards it. "Outside this door, a brave new world. After you."

Gus and Shawn stepped out of the TARDIS to see what could only be described as the distant past. It smelled something fierce, the people in it looked dirty, and it all have a very small village vibe.

"What are we, colonial era?" Gus asked.

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'when' are we," Shawn corrected. He spied something out of the corner of his eye and quickly stepped back.

The Doctor pulled Gus back as well and the contents of a privy just barely avoided landing on his head. "Somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Sorry about that."

"You could have warned me, Shawn!" Gus cried out.

Shawn nodded. "That is probably true."

"We're in London at around…1599," the Doctor announced.

"That's oddly specific for an 'around'," Shawn remarked. "Most people would have gone with a nice even 'around 1600.'"

"Why London?" Gus asked. "I mean, I guess there wouldn't be much we'd recognize going on in America right now but…"

The Doctor shrugged. "I've always been partial to London. So much so that this time around I've even got one of their accents."

"This time around?" Shawn asked curiously.

"Oh, when I'm dying I regenerate," the Doctor explained airily. "I look and sound completely different and have a new personality though I keep the same memories. I've regenerated a little over nine times so far but I've yet to manage to be a ginger…"

"Don't feel bad," Shawn told him. "In my experience, red hair looks infinitely better on women than it does on men."

"How do you regenerate 'a little over' nine times?" Gus wanted to know.

"One time it was just a hand after mine had been cut off in a duel. I never did find the original, come to think of it. Well, shall we be off?" the Doctor asked, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. He started to walk away from the TARDIS. Shawn followed him but Gus stayed right where he was.

"Wait…is this even safe?" Gus asked.

"Oh, don't tell me you think the locals are going to murder you," Shawn said, shaking his head in disbelief. "If that's your attitude, you'll never have any fun."

"Well they might," Gus said stubbornly. "The first major European witch prosecution took place in 1563 in Germany and in 1542, England enacted a Witchcraft Act that regulated the penalties for witchcraft. And let's not forget the North Berwick witch trials of 1590 which ran for two years and implicated seventy people all because King James I – currently king of Scotland – had bad weather on his return trip from Denmark where he got married!"

"I would love to know how you know that," Shawn told him. "Actually, wait, no I don't. Because it's kind of disturbing that you do and I'd like to pretend that I don't know that about you."

"We're not even dressed in period clothing," Gus pointed out. "You know any future technology like the Doctor's screwdriver will make them think witches. And I'm black, Shawn! What if they try to cart me off as a slave?"

Shawn was quiet for a moment before deciding to pass the buck. "Doctor?"

"I've never had any problems – well, I shouldn't say never, really, but I've been around a long time. I rarely ever have problems and I've only had the locals attempt to enslave me three times and it was never on Earth even though I'm not even human," the Doctor rambled. He could see that wasn't doing much to reassure Gus.

"You look human," Gus pointed out. "And you look like a white guy."

"Just walk around like you own the place," the Doctor advised. "Always works for me."

Still, Gus didn't move. "Is this really safe? I mean…what if I crush a butterfly or something and end up screwing up the present? Or kill someone important? Or someone whose descendent is someone important? Or one of my or Shawn's ancestors?"

"I…would recommend not doing any of that," the Doctor replied. "I'm not much of a fan of killing people in general and I doubt that it will come to that. This is just a short trip, after all. Even if those do have a knack for spiraling out of control…But that's not the point. The point is that I've done this many, many times and have yet to accidentally ruin the future or kill one of my companion's relatives. Well, except for that one time but she was already born by that point and he was supposed to die anyway…"

Gus stared at him for a moment. "I don't want to know, do I?"

"Probably not," the Doctor agreed. "And it all could have been avoided by not going back to our own timelines and changing them. So if we were to ever, I don't know, see our past selves but have no memory of meeting our future selves, we really shouldn't interact with them or it could destroy the entire universe."

"But you're only taking us on one trip," Shawn said skeptically.

The Doctor nodded. "Exactly."

"Oh," Shawn said suddenly. "Oh, oh, oh! You're talking about that stupid story we had to read in middle school, aren't you? Cry of Thunder or something like that?"

"It was 'A Sound of Thunder', actually," Gus corrected. "And maybe."

Shawn groaned. "Dude, that story was so stupid. It was a freaking butterfly."

"That's what makes it so terrifying, Shawn! You never know!" Gus exclaimed.

"A butterfly," Shawn repeated as if that was all he needed to say. "I mean, I could see how if he killed a mammal or something he could prevent the human race from existing but a butterfly? Since when has a butterfly ever been historically significant?"

"You never know," Gus insisted. "It's called the ripple effect, Shawn. A single butterfly flapping its wings might cause a tornado somewhere."

Shawn sighed. "Gus, you know I hate it when you force me to be the rational one in this relationship."

"Those are perfectly valid scientific theories," Gus argued.

"Yeah, well so is string theory and, I ask you, why do we need a scientific theory about string?" Shawn demanded. "Now you can either come along or stay in the TARDIS and hope I don't step on any butterflies just to prove you wrong."

That settled it and Gus quickly hurried after the duo.

"It's like we've stepped into an alien world," Shawn breathed. "I bet that not one of these people have basic cable."

"Don't mind him," Gus told the surprised Doctor. "His idea of roughing it involves a lack of TiVo."

"Oh, I don't know that it's medieval England is that much different than your time," the Doctor said slowly. "I mean, look over there. They've got recycling." He pointed to a man shoveling straw. "The water cooler." Three men were gathered around a barrel of what was probably ale and a fourth was preaching about the end of days and the fiery pits of hell. "Global warming."

"I'm not sure if I should be relieved or depressed by this," Shawn confided.

"Well, how about some entertainment to cheer you up?" the Doctor suggested. "Popular entertainment for the masses." He glanced around and his eyes widened. "Oh my. We're just down the river from…that makes us right next to…oh yes!" He took off running and Shawn and Gus were forced to start running as well to catch up with him. "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."

"The what theater?" Shawn asked blankly.

"The Globe Theater," Gus repeated.

"I heard him the first time," Shawn said irritably. "I just don't see the significance."

"Shawn," Gus said reverently. "Shakespeare is in there."

"Yeah, still not seeing the significance," Shawn announced.

Gus smacked his forehead. "Shawn, I refuse to believe you don't know who Shakespeare is."

"Gus, don't be the only cheeseburger at a kosher restaurant," Shawn chided. "Of course I know who Shakespeare is. Eighth grade, Hamlet. Ninth grade, Romeo and Juliet. Tenth Grade, Much Ado About Nothing. Eleventh Grade, Macbeth. Twelfth Grade, Hamlet again and Henry V. I still don't see why I should be excited about this."

"We're probably going to get to see an actual Shakespeare play directed by the man himself!" Gus exclaimed.

The Doctor nodded. "It should be quite the experience."

Shawn made a face. "Do we have to? I'm sure we could find some nice butterflies to squash instead."

Gus grabbed his arm and dragged him along. "Come on."

"Is it over?" Shawn asked, holding a hand to his mouth to cover a yawn. "Please tell me it's over."

"You seriously didn't like it?" Gus asked, annoyed.

"Well, this isn't usually the reaction something like going back in time and watching an original Shakespeare production usually gets," the Doctor remarked, puzzled.

"That ending sucks. I mean, so what if the men failed to keep their oath? It was three years of celibacy. It was a stupid plan in the first place. Now the women won't have anything to do with them unless they stay celibate for another year? SO not worth it," Shawn declared.

"It's a different time," the Doctor attempted to explain.

"Well unless they have a different way of measuring years then it's still not worth it," Shawn insisted.

"You've just never been in love," Gus accused.

"If I were in love and didn't see her for an entire year, I'd probably make great strides in something I like to call 'moving on.' They so just don't want to marry these guys. Or maybe they don't want to get married at all. Not that I can blame them for that. And is it just me or are none of those women actually women?" Shawn demanded.

"Women weren't allowed to perform on stage, Shawn," Gus informed him.

The Doctor smirked. "Men dressed as women. London never changes."

"I am not going to allow your complaining to ruin this for me, Shawn," Gus decided. "AUTHOR! AUTHOR! Wait…do people call for the author in this time period?"

The people around them had taken up Gus' call for the author and soon the entire crowd was shouting out for Shakespeare.

"Well if they didn't before then they do now," the Doctor said with a grin.

"Oh look, you might have changed history," Shawn said dryly. "I sure hope we don't come back to a world with President Peroutka because let me tell you right now, I'm not sure I'm pronouncing that right."

The shouts of 'author' died down as a beaming bearded man stepped out onto the stage and a thundering applause took its place.

"Genius. Pure genius," the Doctor gushed. "He's the most human human there's ever been."

"Now our very human-ness is in question?" Shawn complained. "Now that's just not fair."

"Now we're going to hear him speak!" the Doctor continued as if he hadn't heard Shawn. "He always chooses the best words! New beautiful brilliant words!"

"I'm not sure I like the thought of him using new words," Shawn said, frowning. "What's the point if we're not going to understand them?"

"New words for the day," Gus clarified. "We know them all by now, of course. Amazement, bedroom, dawn, eyeball, gossip, label, lonely…"

"Seriously, you're scaring me," Shawn told him. "So he just made things up and put them in his play? That would be like if I wrote a play and inserted the word 'globenheimen' in it."

"Not quite the same," Gus countered. "Because you're not Shakespeare."

"What if we accidentally use a word that no one knows yet because Shakespeare hasn't invented it?" Shawn wondered.

"Now who's worrying too much?" Gus asked triumphantly.

"Um…that would still be you," Shawn replied.

"Sh, he's starting!" the Doctor hushed them.

"Shut your big fat mouths!" Shakespeare shouted out, causing a roar of laughter.

The Doctor frowned, his enthusiasm clearly dampened.

"And that is why you should never meet your idols," Shawn declared. "Unless, of course, you're like me and have awesome idols."

" You've got excellent taste, I'll give you that," Shakespeare told the crowd. He pointed to someone in the third row. "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?"

" 'Funny' isn't quite the word I'd use…" Shawn muttered.

"Shawn!" Gus said, swatting him on the arm.

"It just stops. Do the boys get the girls? Well don't get yourselves in a tangle, you'll find out soon. All in good time. You don't rush a genius," Shakespeare said with a self-satisfied smile. Suddenly, his entire body jerked and he blinked a couple of times. "When? Tomorrow night. The premier of my brand new play. The sequel no less. And I call it…Love's Labour's Won!"

Gus waited for Shawn to beg them not to make him see it or to make some comment about how they'd be better off not chasing after such unreasonable women but he was strangely silent, his eyes trained on Shakespeare.

"I'm not exactly a Shakespeare expert or anything but I've never heard of 'Love's Labour's Won'," Gus remarked as they walked along the street after the performance.

The Doctor nodded. "Exactly. It's only a rumor. It's mentioned in a list of his plays but never ever turns up. And no one knows why."

"Something really weird is going on here," Shawn agreed. "I mean, did you see what happened during Shakespeare's speech? One second it was all 'you can't rush genius' and the next he sort of jerked and proclaimed that he was going to premier it tomorrow. It almost looked like one of those voodoo things you see on TV."

Gus stopped short.

"So you think something might be influencing him?" the Doctor asked rhetorically. "That sounds serious. Well…I was just going to give you two a quick trip in the TARDIS but I supposed we can stay a bit longer."

"Oh no we can't," Gus argued. "You said one trip and we've had one trip. Let's make with the returning us home. You can come back after that."

"Gus!" Shawn hissed. "What happened to our plan to stall?"

Gus crossed his arms. "I'm sorry, Shawn, but I draw the line at getting involved with voodoo. That never ends well for anybody."

"It's probably not actual voodoo," Shawn assured him. "I mean, the Doctor already told us that magic doesn't actually exist in our universe."

Gus sighed. "Fine. But one hint of voodoo and I am staying in the TARDIS."

"Fair enough," the Doctor told him. "Of course, it's locked so…"

"Wait, you locked it?" Gus asked, horrified.

The Doctor shrugged. "Well…yeah. I couldn't just leave it like it was, after all. That would be terribly irresponsible. Ah, here we are. The Elephant. Hello! Excuse me. I'm not interrupting, am I? Mr. Shakespeare, isn't it?"

Shakespeare was sitting at a table in the inn with two men sitting across from him. He groaned when he saw them. "Oh, no, no, no. Who let you in? No autographs. No you can't have yourself sketched with me. And please don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove off."

"I think this should explain everything," the Doctor said, taking something out of his pocket and showing it to Shakespeare.

"Not really," Shakespeare said, glancing at it. "In fact, now it's left me with one more: why do you expect that showing me a blank piece of paper will explain everything?"

Shawn glanced over at it. "It doesn't look blank to me."

"Wow," the Doctor said, his eyes wide. "You're truly amazing, you know that?"

"What?" Gus asked.

"It's psychic paper. It's a blank card that displays what the holder of the card wants them to see," the Doctor explained. "Though you have to be careful because otherwise it might display something you subconsciously want someone to know and there's nothing like 'I work out and am available' to ruin a perfectly good credential. Some species or groups are immune to it do to psychic training but you…William Shakespeare, but you are brilliant!"

"I want one," Shawn said immediately. "Think of how much easier my life would be with one of those."

The Doctor was about to reply when someone else came into the inn.

"What's the meaning of this abominable behavior?" the new man demanded. "A new play with no warning? I demanded to see a script, Mr. Shakespeare. As masters of the revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."

"I hardly gave you no notice," Shakespeare argued.

"You said it would be ready next week," the revel-master, "not tomorrow evening."

"It's not quite done," Shakespeare admitted. "But I can show it to you first thing tomorrow morning."

"I don't work for your schedule, you work for mine!" the revel-master said angrily. "I am offended at your attempt to comply with my wishes and therefore the only way this play will ever be performed is over my dead body!" With that, he stormed off.

"Ten bucks says he's dead by morning," Shawn said immediately.

Gus snorted. "You don't have ten bucks. And you're probably right. I know my movie clichés."

Shakespeare peered closely at them. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"Not even slightly," Shawn agreed. "We also promise not to act like creepy stalker-fans. Mostly because I'm not really a fan."

Gus elbowed him. "Don't tell him that!"

"Gus, are you asking me to lie?" Shawn asked innocently.

"Are you trying to pretend you have some sort of a problem with that?" Gus shot back.

"I can't have this conversation sober," Shawn declared. "Can someone bring me something to drink?"

"Well, this was a bit of a disappointment," the Doctor said with a sigh. "The great mystery behind the disappearance of 'Love's Labour's Won'…killed by a pompous official's ego."

Shakespeare shrugged. "It happens to the best of us. I should know, after all."

There was a scream from outside the inn and the four immediately leapt to their feet and ran outside to see what had happened.

The revel-man was expelling some sort of liquid and stumbling about.

"Just how much has he had to drink?" Gus wondered aloud.

"I think he's drowning," Shawn mused.

"But he's on land," Gus pointed out.

The Doctor rushed to the ill man's side. "I'm a Doctor," he announced. Before he could do much more than grab onto the flailing man, he collapsed. He checked for a pulse but there was none. "You're right, Shawn. He did drown," he said quietly. "I've never seen a death like it. And then there was a blow to the heart, an invisible blow."

"Incoming crowd," Shawn warned him.

"Right," the Doctor said with a nod as he stood up and addressed the closest woman to him. "Good mistress, this poor man has died from a sudden imbalance of the humors. It's a natural if unfortunate demise. Call the constable."

"Humor? He died because of humor?" Shawn repeated skeptically.

"Not humor, Shawn, humors. It was how the people in the dark ages understood medicine," Gus explained. "But everyone knows that's not really true. Why are you telling them that?"

"Because, as you said, it's the dark ages," the Doctor said grimly. "If I told them the truth they'd think it was witchcraft."

"And what was it?" Gus asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

The Doctor hesitated. "Witchcraft."

"I thought you said there was no such thing as magic!" Gus said accusingly.

"Well…it's not technically magic. Words have power, you know. These 'witches' are an alien species, I'm sure of it. I think I know which one, too, but I'm not positive," the Doctor replied.

Gus stared at him. "So…you're saying that it's alien witches who don't use magic but can still produce magic-like effects through the power of words?"

"That about sums it up," the Doctor agreed.

Gus was running towards the TARDIS before he even finished speaking.

"Gus!" Shawn cried out. He glanced at the Doctor. "I'll be right back."

Eventually, Shawn managed to track Gus down and convince him to come back to the inn.

"I got you a room, sir Doctor. You, Mr. Burton, and Mr. Spencer are just across the landing," the innkeeper told them. "I'm sorry that there's only one available but there you have it." It might be a bit cramped but three people can stay in it."

"So many strange events. Poor Lynley," Shakespeare said, shaking his head. "Don't think I didn't notice him drowning on land. And you, Shawn and Gus, have such strange clothing and accents. Not to mention that I was going to announce that the play would be ready in a week after I finished writing it and gave the players longer than a few hours to learn the lines."

"I guess you could say that something's rotten in the state of Denmark," Gus spoke up.

"I could except this is London," Shakespeare said, eyeing him strangely. "But still, I like that. I might have to use it. And you, ser Doctor, how can a man so young have eyes so old?"

"I do a lot of reading," the Doctor said shortly.

"Also, he stays out of the sun. It's guaranteed to keep your skin looking far younger than it should," Shawn added.

"And try to apply it," Shakespeare agreed, nodding. "That's what I do. And your companions look at you as if they're surprised you exist. You're as much of a possible to them as you are to me."

"To be fair, we've only met recently," Gus explained. "But we really should be going. You have to finish an entire play by morning, right?"

"Good idea," Shawn agreed. "Dibs on the bed."

"Not if I get there first!"

The pair took off towards their room, the bemused Doctor exchanging a few more words with Shakespeare before following behind them. When he arrived he saw that Shawn and Gus appeared to have decided to just share the bed.

"Sorry but there's only enough room for two," Gus explained. "And neither of us knows you anywhere near enough to be comfortable with sharing anyway."

"So I get the floor, then?" the Doctor realized. "It'll do I suppose. Of course, I'm paying but don't let that trouble you."

"We won't," Shawn assured him.

"I've noticed that we don't have toothbrushes," Gus said seriously. "Will we be going back to the TARDIS in the morning? I mean, I brushed when I was back there after the play but-" He stopped as the Doctor took a toothbrush out of his pocket. "Is there any point in asking why you have a toothbrush in your pocket?"

"Not really, just enjoy the eccentricity," the Doctor advised.

"That's certainly my motto," Shawn said cheerfully.

"And you're absolutely positive this isn't witchcraft?" Gus asked, suddenly anxious again.

"It can't be," the Doctor insisted. "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. Well…maybe. There was the case of the giant invisible wheel that Rose never let me live down even if it was during my last regeneration."

"So we're back to alien witches," Shawn remarked. "Out of curiosity…have you met any other alien mythological creatures? Maybe alien vampires? Alien mummies? Alien werewolves?"

"Not right before I go to sleep, Shawn!" Gus said warningly.

"Rose and I did run into an alien werewolf not too long ago. And alien Satan. Long story," the Doctor said, looking glum.

"So…you really miss this Rose person, huh?" Shawn asked awkwardly.

"Yeah," the Doctor admitted with a sigh. "She was something, all right."

"She's not…dead, is she?" Gus asked nervously.

"Oh, nothing like that!" the Doctor quickly assured him. "She's safe. Just…not here. Long story."

"You seem to have a lot of those," Shawn remarked.

The Doctor shrugged. "Hazards of time travelling. I'm missing something. Something huge. Something really close, staring me right in the face and I can't see it. Rose would know. Still, can't be helped. You two are novices, never mind. I'll take you back home tomorrow."

"You're…not even going to ask us if we might have any ideas?" Gus asked, miffed.

The Doctor sighed again. "Fine, why don't you tell me if you have any ideas."

"I got nothing," Gus admitted. "Shawn?"

"Aside from the fact that these 'witches' are clearly trying to get Love's Labour's Won to be performed since they did something to Shakespeare to speed up the performance date and killed that guy mere minutes after he declared that the play would never be performed, I've got nothing either," Shawn replied.

The Doctor blinked. "It's the giant invisible wheel all over again…"

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