Chapter Three: The Shakespeare Code Part Two
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or Doctor Who.
A scream woke the trio and they quickly rushed to go see what had caused it.
Shawn quickly spotted the body of the landlady and he and the Doctor knelt to examine it. Gus was going over to see the barely-awake Shakespeare when a high-pitched and quite witchy-sounding cackle drew his attention to the window.
"Doctor, could alien witches fly on broomsticks?" Gus demanded.
"Of course they could," the Doctor replied. "Plenty of species have what humans would consider to be unusual methods of levitation. Why do you ask?"
"I just saw one flying away and I think I've changed my mind," Gus announced. "I've decided that alien witches are just as bad if not worse than supernatural witches."
"Naturally since there are no such things as supernatural witches," the Doctor agreed.
"She's dead," Shawn announced. "And it looks like she died of fright."
"Probably because she just saw that alien witch," Gus opined.
"I suppose she might have flown out of this window," the Doctor agreed. "And it's not like she hasn't already targeted someone in this inn. But why kill the bartender? She wasn't trying to stop or stall the play."
"Maybe she wasn't the target," Shawn said slowly. "Shakespeare was in here after all. Maybe she just saw something she wasn't supposed to see."
"Are you saying that some sort of alien witch did something to me?" Shakespeare demanded, looking quite perturbed.
"It's possible," the Doctor admitted. "What do you remember?"
"Nothing much. I was just trying to finish up my new play in time – whatever convinced me to try and get it done in one night is beyond me – and I must have drifted off," Shakespeare said with a shrug.
"Did you finish it?" Gus asked him.
Shakespeare scanned his work. "I think so. I…wait, a minute. That's strange."
"What is?" Shawn asked.
"These words at the end. I didn't write them. I mean, I must have because they're in my handwriting but they really make no sense," Shakespeare said, puzzled.
Shawn leaned over. "Let me see." He glanced at the offending passage. "You're right. That is terrible."
"Shawn, you had better not let your irrational hatred of literary genius ruin the enjoyment of millions of people," Gus said warningly.
"Dude, I don't hate Shakespeare's work," Shawn protested.
Gus gave him a skeptical look.
"I don't!" Shawn insisted. "It just reminds me too much of high school English and therefore bores me to tears. But these last two sentences are horrible. I mean, they make no sense and come out of nowhere!"
"A lot of people find Shakespeare difficult to understand," the Doctor attempted to console Shawn.
Shakespeare looked horrified. "I should hope not! If people don't understand what's going on, they won't come see my plays!"
"Yes they will," Shawn said, rolling his eyes. "It's 'culture' and whatnot."
"So how does it end?" the Doctor asked.
Gus immediately covered his ears. "Spoilers!"
Shawn rolled his eyes again. "Yes, because you're really worried about having Shakespeare spoiled. You know, after a certain period of time I think it's safe to say that you lose the right to expect people to indulge you in the fact you haven't seen something and four hundred years is long past that time. I mean, everyone knows that it was his sled and Citizen Kane didn't come out until the 1940s."
"Shawn, do you actually know anything about that movie besides the fact that it was his sled?" Gus demanded.
"I know that it is widely considered the greatest movie ever made and so I consider it to be highly overrated," Shawn replied. "But how about a more recent example and something I've actually seen? In the Matrix, they're not in the real world but in the Matrix."
"That's the title of the movie, Shawn," Gus pointed out. "What about the fact that the Matrix is actually a giant computer sim-"
"Sh!" Shawn cut him off. "Don't spoil it for the Doctor and Shakespeare."
"I've actually already seen all three of them," the Doctor volunteered.
"See? The Doctor's already seen it and Shakespeare will be dead for centuries before any movie comes out, let alone the Matrix," Gus said triumphantly.
"You lot are making it absolutely impossible for me to even pretend that I haven't realized that you're all from the future and the Doctor is from another planet," Shakespeare complained.
Shawn had the grace to look a little sheepish. "Whoops. Is it okay that he knows that?"
"As long as he doesn't go around telling everyone or writes anything about time travelers or aliens," the Doctor replied, staring intently at Shakespeare.
"Not to worry, I know that – future consequences aside – doing so would not end very well for me here. They'd probably say I was mad or possessed or something," Shakespeare assured them.
"Good. Now, Shawn, you were going to tell us what was so strange about the play's ending?" the Doctor prompted.
Gus quickly covered his ears as Shawn cleared his throat. "Right. 'Betwixt Dravidian shores and Linear 5-9-3-0-1-6-7.02 and strikes the fulsome grove of Rexel 4. Co-radiating crystal, activate!'"
Gus uncovered his ears. "Alright, I'll admit it, that is pretty terrible."
"Gus! You could hear what I was saying?" Shawn asked, surprised.
Gus nodded reluctantly. "Covering your ears isn't nearly as effective as it is on TV."
"Then why did you bother covering your ears in the first place?" Shawn asked logically.
"It made me feel better about the fact I had no choice but to be spoiled," Gus replied.
"Gus, this play was written four hundred years ago. Get over it," Shawn advised.
"But it's a lost play so I've never seen it!" Gus pointed out. "And given that we're back on the day that the play is initially performed, it's so fair to ask not to get spoiled."
"Do you two have any idea what this means?" the Doctor spoke up then, looking stunned.
"I'm going to have to go with 'no', particularly as you haven't clarified what 'this' is," Shawn answered.
"Rexel 4. Rexel 4 was the home planet of the Carrionites," the Doctor revealed, shaking his head in amazement.
"You said 'was'," Shakespeare noted astutely. "Did something happen to them?"
"And what are the Carrionites?" Gus added. "The alien witches?"
"Oh, this explains everything!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Yes, they are the alien witches. Most species have a math-based scientific system but the Carrionites have a word-based one. Their technology is often confused with witchcraft which is why the Time Lords hated them so much. They can use puppets of people as a sort of voodoo doll and I'll bet you anything that's how that man drowned on land! Oh, they can fly, teleport, communicate across distance, and a limited ability to discover their target's name."
"Word-based science?" Gus asked. "That makes no sense. At all. And if they can just say a nice rhyme and get something magic-seeming done…are we really sure there's that much of a difference between them and real witches or are you just saying that to save Time Lord pride?"
"I'm sure," the Doctor said firmly. "Admittedly, I wasn't sure if they were real or legend since they disappeared way back at the beginning of the universe but people have always said that about Time Lords given the whole 'don't meddle' thing."
Shawn snorted. " 'Don't meddle'?" he repeated. "How's that working out for you?"
"I was never a very obedient Time Lord," the Doctor confessed.
Shawn grinned. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."
"Well, that and the fact you're taking us time travelling," Gus added. "Which, despite the alarming presence of alien witches and the fact I'm still not absolutely convinced we're not ruing the future, is actually pretty great."
"It's just one trip!" the Doctor reminded them.
"Keep telling yourself that," Shawn told him.
"And knowing someone's name is important?" Shakespeare asked. "Because they know mine."
"Bet you're glad I keep giving you awesome aliases now," Shawn remarked.
Gus shook his head. "You haven't given me one since we've arrived but I don't think they'd have any reason to know us."
"The Carrionites place great importance on names but they also need a DNA sample to control you," the Doctor continued.
"A what sample?" Shakespeare asked blankly.
"I can answer this one!" Shawn said cheerfully. "Man, I can't believe I know something Shakespeare doesn't."
"To be fair, the man did live four hundred years ago," Gus reminded him.
"Technically, I live in the present and you are from four hundred years in the future," Shakespeare corrected. "Now what is this 'DNA sample' you speak of?"
"It's a part of you," Shawn explained. "Like a strand of hair. If this Rexel 4 is the Carrionites home planet then they probably took a strand of our hair and forced you to write those end lines. Then the landlady came in and caught one of them so she was killed."
"I must say that actually seeing someone that's been frightened to death makes me really wonder about how the way I spend my time is going to affect my life expectancy," Gus muttered.
"I don't see how this can be, though, they were banished a long time ago," the Doctor mused.
"What happened?" Shawn asked.
The Doctor waved a hand. "Oh, the Carrionites were a vicious race that had a nasty habit of attacking other planets from far away. Eventually, they got into a war with a species with similar abilities called the Hervoken and threatened all of existence so the Eternals stepped in and banished them."
"So if they can use words to get things done and they're trying to use Shakespeare's words to do something – perhaps bring their planet back? – then they probably escaped somehow using Shakespeare's words," Shawn theorized. "Dude, now you should definitely take those lines out."
Shakespeare nodded and reached for a quill. "Absolutely. Who knows what might have happened otherwise?"
"But what if the witches are watching the rehearsal and notice that the lines they need aren't in the script anymore?" Gus demanded. "They might try to find a way to add them back in."
Shakespeare nodded again. "Very good point. I'll simply instruct the boys not to rehearse the final scene together. It's so short and they're professions so they really won't need to. I'll tell them I want it to be a surprise or something."
"We can't just leave however many Carrionites here, though," the Doctor pointed out. "They might kill more people or try something else to bring back their home. We need to find them and stop them."
"Do we have any leads?" Shawn asked. "Anyone that might have mentioned witches in the past?"
"Peter Street did," Shakespeare revealed.
"Who was that?" Gus asked.
"He was the architect of the Globe," Shakespeare explained.
"The architect…The architect! The Globe! Oh, of course!" the Doctor cried out.
"For those of us that didn't just have an epiphany…" Shawn prompted. "Man, the suspense is really killing me. Is this what it's like when I haven't explained things yet? If so: awesome."
"There are fourteen sides to the Globe Theater," the Doctor declared. "Does anybody know why?"
"There are fourteen lines in a sonnet," Gus volunteered.
Shawn groaned. "Oh, come on! Can you even pretend to be normal?"
"Everyone knows that," Gus insisted.
"There are also fourteen planets in the Rexel System, although I suppose it's a little unfair to expect you to know that," the Doctor mused. "I might have thought that was a coincidence but you said the architect spoke of witches. Where is he now? Do you think we might be able to speak with him?"
"You might be able to get in to see him but I don't know how much help he'll be," Shakespeare told them. "After all, he was committed to Bedlam about a month after finishing the Globe. He really lost his mind, started babbling about witches and hearing voices. Of course, now I find out he's not so crazy." He paused. "Or I'm joining him in his madness. That would make a good play, I think, one man's slow descent into madness…"
" 'Genius is one of the many forms of insanity,'" the Doctor quoted.
Shakespeare nodded. "I might use that."
"You can't. It's somebody else's," the Doctor informed him.
Shakespeare tilted his head. "Not yet it isn't…"
"Bedlam's a me-" Gus started to say.
"Please, Gus, I know what Bedlam is. I have seen Nightmare On Elm Street, you know," Shawn sniffed.
"That's Westin Hills, not Bedlam," Gus corrected.
Shawn shrugged. "Same difference."
"Well, we might as well get going and hope this Peter Street knows anything useful," the Doctor announced.
Shawn held up a hand. "Not just yet. We haven't even had breakfast yet and I brought pineapple."
Shakespeare looked baffled. "You can't eat pineapple."
Shawn shot him a horrified look. "W-what? Who are you and why do you hate everything good and delicious?"
"He means pinecones," the Doctor explained. "The fruit you're thinking of wasn't known in England until 1694."
"Does this mean we're changing history?" Gus asked nervously.
Shawn shrugged and picked up the pineapple he had on the floor and placed in on the table. "Who cares? If history really changes, I think Shakespeare discovering the most awesome fruit ever will be the least of our concerns. Alien witches, remember?"
Gus sighed. "I remember," he said miserably.
Shakespeare stopped off at the Globe long enough to hand out the script and to instruct the actors not to rehearse the final altered-then-unaltered scene – just in case – and then they were off to Bedlam. It looked appropriately dismal and creepy from the outside and even the angel statue outside appeared slightly menacing…or so insisted Gus.
"Dude, you have no idea how embarrassing it is that you're scared of angel statues," Shawn complained as they were being led to Street. "I mean, being scared of any statue would be bad enough now that we're no longer five but a freaking angel statue? Come on!"
"I'm not scared of them," Gus claimed. "I just find them extremely creepy. I can't explain it. There's something just…not right about them."
"Good instincts," the Doctor said approvingly. "The Weeping Angels look just like statues when you can see them."
"Oh come on," Shawn laughed. "The Weeping Angels?"
The Doctor nodded. "Oh, yes. They're nightmarish beings, really. They-"
"Hold on," Shawn interrupted. "Is this liable to give Gus nightmares?"
The Doctor stopped. "Maybe?"
"Then please don't," Shawn requested. "You'll thank me when he's not waking you up at three in the morning."
"I do not do that," Gus said firmly.
The jailer politely waited for them to quiet down. "Does my lord, Doctor, wish some entertainment while he waits?"
"I do quite like a good entertainment," the Doctor mused. "It really depends on what you have in mind, though."
"I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for ya," the jailor promised. "Bandog and Bedlam!'
The Doctor made a face. "Ah, right. Well, thanks anyway."
The jailer shrugged. "Wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for gentlemen like yourselves."
Gus shuddered. "This place is barbaric."
"It might be at that but it serves its purpose. Madmen cannot be allowed to live among the sane and when I was mad it was only fear of this place that made me well again," Shakespeare said quietly.
"But these people are sick and the people here are exploiting them for entertainment value!" Gus said indignantly. "How are any of them supposed to get better if they're being so mistreated? They're locked up and overcrowded and beaten."
"By the time you get mad enough for Bedlam there usually isn't any coming back," Shakespeare replied.
"Certainly not if this is the standard of care! And even if not one of them had a chance of getting better with the best medication and facilities the twenty-first century could provide, that doesn't justify all of this abuse," Gus said hotly.
"It's a different time, Gus," the Doctor said softly. "And even now…in the first half of the twentieth century doctors were regularly performing prefrontal lobotomies that could leave the patient literally a shell of a person."
Shakespeare shrugged. "I don't know what life is like when you're from but now we don't have any better way to deal with the mad. Everyone knows you don't want to end up in Bedlam but what can you do? We don't have the resources people from your time seem to. Try not to judge us too harshly in light of that."
Gus was about to respond when the jailer called out, "This way, m'lord!"
They followed the jailer's voice to the cell that presumably contained Street. The man inside had his back to them and his head bowed but they could sort of make out filthy dirty-blonde hair.
"They can be dangerous, m'lord," the jailer cautioned. "Don't know their own strength."
"I think it helps if you don't whip them," the Doctor advised. "Now get out."
The jailer just glanced towards Street again before taking his leave.
The Doctor knelt down beside Peter and put his hand on his shoulder. "Peter?"
Peter's head shot up and he gazed at the doctor with wide, glassy eyes.
"Peter, I'm the Doctor," the Doctor said in a comforting yet authoritative tone. "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." He helped Peter lie down on his cot. "Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."
"He's really good at this, isn't he?" Shakespeare whispered.
"He's been travelling so long he probably has some experience dealing with those who aren't quite stable," Gus reasoned.
Trembling, Peter hissed out a reply. "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 they sapped poor Peter's wits."
"Why didn't they just kill him?" Shawn wondered. "I mean, it would tie up this loose end a lot better and it's not like they've shown themselves adverse to committing murder."
"I bet if they find out we were here they will ask themselves that exact question," Gus responded.
"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city?" the Doctor asked urgently. "Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?"
Peter took a few shuddering breaths before he answered. "All Hallows Street."
Shawn rolled his eyes. "Oh, of course it is. Clearly, these alien witches have no concept of subtlety."
"Too many words!" a wizened old creature that could only be described as a witch announced as she suddenly appeared behind the Doctor.
The Doctor immediately moved to the other side of the room.
Gus went to the door and started shaking the bars. "Let us out!"
Shawn snorted. "Like that will stop it."
"It wouldn't matter if it could. No one will listen as the whole building's shouting that," Shakespeare pointed out.
"Just one touch of the heart…" the witch said, holding up her two pointer fingers and slowly descending on Peter.
"Creature, I name you Carrionite!" the Doctor shouted.
The Carrionite began to scream and then sort of melted and faded into light.
"…I'm not sure what's stranger," Shakespeare confessed. "The fact that I just saw a real live witch or the fact that the witch just melted."
"Alien witch," Gus corrected.
"Melting witches are so cliché," Shawn complained. "Hasn't she ever seen the Wizard of Oz?"
"I highly doubt that," Gus replied. "Besides, it's not like she can help it if she melts. At least the light instead of puddle of liquid and having it be at the name of her species and not at getting wet is somewhat of a new take on it."
"I'm just glad that I only had to name her species and not her actual name," the Doctor admitted. "All I would have been able to think of was Rumplestilksin."
"That would have been my first guess as well," Shawn agreed. "Followed by Doomfinger and then Lassie. How many guesses would we have had, anyway?"
"As many as it took to kill us all, presumably," Shakespeare said dryly. "So what now? To All Hallows Street?"
The Doctor briefly considered it before shaking his head. "No. We have to get to the play and make sure that the Carrionites can't use it to bring about the end of the world. If we don't find the witches there then after the performance we can look for them on All Hallows Street."
As they waited for the jailer to let them out, Gus shook his head in disappointment. "Seriously, Shawn? Doomfinger?"
"What?" Shawn demanded. "That's a perfectly reasonable guess!"
The Doctor and Gus were almost in tears by the time the performance was nearing its end. Shakespeare had disappeared behind the curtain before the play had started and three time-travelers were in the audience waiting for the Carrionites to make their move.
"This is so beautiful," the Doctor murmured.
"I can't believe I'm actually witnessing the first performance of a Shakespeare play!" Gus marveled.
"I've been to the first performance of all of them," the Doctor confided. "But it never gets old and I usually hate repeats!"
"Why were we trying so hard to save this again?" Shawn wondered idly.
"So you can rub it in Lassiter's face later and impress Juliet with it," Gus reminded him.
Shawn snapped his fingers and grinned. "How ever could I forget such a worthy cause?"
"Behold the swainish sight of woman's love. Pish! It's out of season to be heavy disposed," one of the actors said, concluding the play.
The actors all came out to take their bow and the audience roared with approval.
"NO!" came an outraged shout from one of the balconies.
"Is this it or did someone just really not like the sequel?" Shawn asked.
"Could be either but let's not take any chances," the Doctor said, pushing his way to the stage.
"How can this be? We possessed the man and changed the lines! Why didn't they say them?"
Now they could see the speaker. She was a young woman with flowing chestnut hair who happened to be levitating next to two wrinkled crones. She was holding up what appeared to be a crystal ball and, after muttering a few words, red light began to erupt from the crystal.
"Dude, she's so hot," Shawn breathed.
Gus smacked his arm. "What's the matter with you? Those are alien witches!"
"Yeah, and she's a hot alien witch," Shawn countered.
"I think that one was the one who tried to kill Peter," Gus said, pointing to the one they'd seen earlier.
"Yeah, and the hot one was working at the inn where we stayed last night," Shawn announced. "What's your point?"
"Doctor!" Shakespeare cried, rushing towards them. "What can we do?"
"I would suggest running," Gus offered.
"That won't solve anything," Shakespeare argued. "It might not even save us for very long."
"Will, you need to re-banish them," the Doctor instructed.
Shakespeare looked taken aback. "W-what? Me? Are you sure? I'm not the alien time-traveler here."
"Maybe not but it's not me we need right now, it's you. Well…it's me to tell you why and how it's you," the Doctor amended. "But listen! 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…I'm not prepared! I don't have any words ready!" Shakespeare protested. "If you knew we were going to do this then we really should have rehearsed!"
"You're William Shakespeare!" the Doctor said as if that solved everything.
"Yes, that's very nice but that doesn't mean that the words always come!" Shakespeare argued. "And these Carrionite phrases, they need such precision!"
"If you mess up you can always try again," Shawn suggested. "They seem more into random raging than specifically targeting you right now anyway."
Shakespeare nodded and closed his eyes. "Right. I can do this." He took a deep breath. "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 Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points..." He trailed off, glancing at the Doctor.
"For someone who said he couldn't do it, he sure is delivering," Shawn muttered to Gus.
"Well of course!" Gus replied. "He isWilliam Shakespeare, after all. He's one of the most brilliant men that ever lived."
"7-6-1-3-9-0," the Doctor supplied.
"7-6-1-3-9-0! And banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee..." He trailed off again, at a loss.
The Doctor's mouth worked but no sound came out. He couldn't think of anything either.
"Leave without a fuss!" Gus burst out.
"Leave without us a fuss!" the Doctor repeated gleefully.
"Leave without a fuss!" Shakespeare shouted at the witches.
The Carrionites screamed out as a whirlwind appeared and sucked them into it.
"I wonder if I can convince them it's part of the play," Shakespeare murmured, stroking his beard.
The Doctor laughed. "I wonder if you could convince them that it wasn't. Of course, now you'll have to explain to them that this was strictly a special opening night deal and the other performances will end on a much duller note. Not that your work is dull or anything!"
Shakespeare laughed, too. "I understand."
"See? Changing history doesn't always have to be bad," Shawn said the next day as he and Gus were waiting around with Shakespeare for the Doctor to finish up with…whatever it was he had to do with the props.
Gus looked blank. "Changing history? Oh! You mean…because we saved the play…Oh my God, we changed history!"
"You don't seriously think saving one little Shakespeare play is going to destroy the world, do you?" Shawn asked rhetorically.
"If anything, it'll probably make the world a better place," Gus declared.
"You're going to give me an ego," Shakespeare teased.
"Good props store back there!" the Doctor said as he made his way towards them holding a skull. "I'm not sure about this though. Reminds me of a Sycorax."
"Sycorax, huh? I might use that," Shakespeare said thoughtfully.
The Doctor opened his mouth and then closed it and shrugged. "Ah, what the hell?"
"So what are you going to do now?" Gus asked, trying not to sound too eager.
"I think it's time that I wrote about fathers and sons. And madness. And maybe witches. Of course, that might be too much for just one play…" Shakespeare mused.
"Not alien witches?" Shawn asked.
Shakespeare laughed. "Please. I'm trying for some semblance of realism here."
"So I heard that Peter was released from Bedlam," the Doctor remarked.
Shakespeare nodded. "It's not exactly unheard of but rarely is it because the patient has suddenly found themselves cured. I guess those Carrionites being banished broke whatever hold they had on him."
"You saved him. But anyway, time we were off," the Doctor decided, picking up the crystal the Carrionites had had which Shawn had been using as a footrest. "I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot can scream for all eternity and I've gotta take these two home."
When the Doctor wasn't looking, Shawn winked and mouthed 'That's what he thinks' to Shakespeare who smiled knowingly.
Just then, two actors burst through the doors and ran up to them.
"Will! Will! You'll never believe it! She's here! She's turned up!" one of the actors exclaimed, shocked and thrilled.
"We're the talk of the town. She heard about last night! She wants us to perform it again!" the other continued.
"Who?" Gus asked, frowning.
"Her Majesty!" the second actor said as if it were obvious. "After all this time she's actually here!"
"I hope she won't be disappointed by the other ending," Shakespeare said worriedly. "I just don't know how we could reproduce last night's show."
Fanfare began to play as Queen Elizabeth I entered the room.
"Queen Elizabeth I!" the Doctor said excitedly. Would you believe I've never met her? Always wanted to."
The Doctor's exclamation got the Queen's attention. "Doctor!"
"What?" the Doctor asked blankly.
" 'Never met', have we?" she demanded. "No wonder you're my sworn enemy!"
"What?" the Doctor sounded a bit more incredulous.
"Off with his head!" the Queen ordered.
"What?"
"How very Queen of Hearts of her," Shawn noted. "Although I suppose to be fair, she did come first…"
"Never mind that, just run!" Gus urged, taking off. The Doctor was right behind him.
"I'll catch up," Shawn promised as he went to go talk to the Queen.
"Finally! I thought we were going to have to leave without you!" the Doctor said, relieved, when Shawn entered the TARDIS ten minutes later.
"Do that and I promise you that I will totally ruin the future," Shawn informed him.
"He would," Gus vouched. "So did you find out why she's after him?"
Shawn nodded and a wicked smile stole across his face. "Oh did I ever. Marrying and deflowering the Virgin Queen and then abandoning her? No wonder she wrote it out of history."
"WHAT?"
" 'You keep saying that word. I do not think it means what you think it means'," Shawn quoted.
Gus rolled his eyes. "No, Shawn, I think it means exactly what he thinks it means."
"I don't think you have anything to worry about just yet," Shawn assured the still-stunned Doctor. "She said you seemed kind of unbalanced. Any time you heard knocks you freaked out so she had to ban knocking four times in your presence."
"Well…it might be something to look forward to. I guess," the Doctor said uncertainly. "Why is it that every British Queen seems determined to hate me? First Queen Victoria, now this…"
"If I had to guess then I'd say it's because you pull stunts like this," Shawn replied.
Gus's jaw worked. "You married Queen Victoria, too?"
"Not exactly. Though she did knight me roughly ten seconds before banishing me after she quite possibly turned into a werewolf…"
Review Please!