Doctor Who Fan Fiction ❯ Dr Who – Martha and Ten The Inbetweens and Backstories ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

The TARDIS was still bucking, and Martha was hanging on to the console. 'But how do you travel in time? What makes it go?'

The Doctor was winding a handle, trying to stabilise the TARDIS. 'Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything. Martha, you don't want to know. It just does. Hold on tight.'

The TARDIS came to a halt, and Martha was thrown to the floor.

'Blimey. Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?'

'Yes, and I failed it. Now, make the most of it.' He grabbed his long, brown coat and headed for the doors. 'I promised you one trip and one trip only. Outside this door, brave new world,' he said, standing with his back to the door.

'Where are we?' she asked, standing at the top of the ramp.

'Take a look. After you.'

Martha stepped through the door onto a narrow street, where a woman was washing in a water trough, and hanging the washing on lines below the overhanging eaves, scruffy urchins ran past her.

'Oh, you are kidding me; you are so . . . kidding me. Oh, my God, we did it. We travelled in time.' She looked around, trying to take it all in. 'Where are we? No . . . sorry, I got to get used to this whole new language . . . When are we?'

Before he could answer, he looked up and jumped backwards, dragging her out of the way of a slop bucket being emptied. 'Mind out.'

'Gardez l'eau!'

'Somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Sorry about that.'

'I've seen worse. I've worked the late night shift A+E.' The Doctor started to walk down the street. 'But are we safe?' she called out to him, 'I mean, can we move around and stuff?'

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

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

'Tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies,' he said, and then thought about what she'd said. 'What have butterflies ever done to you?'

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

'Are you planning to?'

'No.'

'Well, then.'

'And this is London?'

'I think so. Round about . . . fifteen . . . ninety nine.'

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

'Why would they do that?'

'Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed.'

'I'm not even human. Just walk about like you own the place. Works for me. Besides, you'd be surprised. Elizabethan England, not so different from your time. Look over there. They've got recycling,' he said as he pointed to a man shovelling some animal dung into a wooden pail.

They continued down the street, and two men were leaning on an upturned barrel, chatting and drinking. 'Water cooler moment.'

'And the world will be consumed by flame,' a prophet of doom was preaching as they walked past.

'Global warming. Oh, yes, and entertainment. Popular entertainment for the masses. If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark, right next to . . .' They ran along from the south end of old London Bridge, past St Mary Ovarie, Southwark Cathedral, and stopped when they saw the magnificent edifice.

'Oh, yes,' he shouted. 'The Globe Theatre! Brand new, just opened . . . Though, strictly speaking, it's not a globe, it's a tetradecagon. Fourteen sides. Containing . . . the man himself.'

'Whoa, you don't mean . . . Is Shakespeare in there?'

'Oh, yes. Miss Jones, will you accompany me to the theatre?' He held out his arm for her to take.

She held on with both hands. 'Mister Smith, I will.'

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

'Then I could get sectioned.'

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Martha and an amorous Will Shakespeare were sitting on an empty stage, chatting, while the Doctor went searching for any copies of `Love's Labour's Won'.

'And I say, a heart for a hart and a dear for a deer,' he said, trying to impress her with a play on words.

'I don't get it.'

'Then give me a joke from Freedonia.'

'Okay, Shakespeare walks into a pub and the landlord says, Oi mate, you're Bard.'

Will laughed politely. 'That's brilliant. Doesn't make sense, mind you, but never mind that. Now come here.' He put his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him.

'I've only just met you.'

'The Doctor may never kiss you. Why not entertain a man who will?' he said, and hesitantly moved to kiss her.

She didn't resist, after all, there weren't many women she knew who could claim to have kissed Shakespeare. When he got close though, she realised that oral hygiene in 16th century was not up to the standards of the 21st century.

'I don't know how to tell you this, oh great genius . . . but your breath doesn't half stink.'

'Good props store back there,' the Doctor said as he wandered on to the stage, wearing a ruff, and carrying an animal skull. 'I'm not sure about this though . . . reminds me of a Sycorax.'

'Sycorax, nice word. I'll have that off you as well,' Will said.

'I should be on ten percent. How's your head?'

'Still aching.'

The Doctor took off the ruff. 'Here, I got you this.' He fitted it around Will's neck. 'Neck brace, wear that for a few days till its better . . . although you might want to keep it, it suits you.'

'What about the play?' Martha asked him.

'Gone, I looked all over; every single copy of Love's Labours Won went up in the sky.'

'My lost masterpiece,' Will said sadly.

'You could write it up again,' she suggested.

'Yeah, better not, Will . . . there's still power in those words. Maybe it should best stay forgotten,' the Doctor suggested.

'Oh, but I've got new ideas. Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons, in memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet.'

'Hamnet?' Martha asked.

'That's him.'

'Ham-Net?' she queried.

'What's wrong with that?' Will asked, looking her in the eye.

'Anyway, time we were off. I've got a nice attic in the Tardis where this lot can scream for all eternity,' he said as he picked up the blue, crystal ball. 'And I've got to take Martha back to Freedonia.'

'You mean travel on through time and space,' Will said, giving the Doctor a knowing look.

The Doctor's voice had a cautious edge to it. 'You what?'

'You're from another world like the Carrionites, and Martha is from the future . . . it's not hard to work out.'

'That's . . . incredible, you are incredible,' the Doctor said, full of admiration.

'We're alike in many ways, Doctor.' He turned to Martha and held her hand up. 'Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse, a sonnet for my Dark Lady . . . Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate . . .' He was about to kiss her hand, when Burbage and Kempe came running in to the theatre.

'Will!' Burbage shouted excitedly.

'Will, you'll never believe it, she's here! She's turned up!' Kempe shouted.

'We're the talk of the town . . . she heard about last night, she wants us to perform it again,' Burbage said with pride.

'Who?' Martha asked.

'Her Majesty,' Burbage said. 'She's here.'

'Queen Elizabeth the First!' the Doctor said enthusiastically.

'Doctor?' the queen said as she strode into the theatre.

'What?' he said, a little less enthusiastic this time.

'My sworn enemy,' she declared.

'What?' he said, with no hint of his initial enthusiasm.

'Off, with his head!'

'What?' he said, enthusiasm having been replaced with disbelief.

Martha could see that things were about to “kick off”. 'Never mind what, just run! See you, Will, and thanks.'

They ran through the back of the stage to find a way out.

'Stop that pernicious Doctor,' the queen commanded.

Will laughed as they ran past him, followed by a couple of the queen's guards. As they ran down the street, they could hear them shouting. 'Stop in the name of the Queen!'

'What have you done to upset her?' Martha asked.

'How should I know? Haven't even met her yet,' he said as he put the key in the lock and opened the door. 'That's time travel for you, still . . . can't wait to find out,' he said as Martha ran past him, into the TARDIS.

He looked down the street to see an archer taking aim. 'That's something to look forward to . . . Ooo!' He quickly ducked inside and shut the door, as an arrow thudded into it.

The Doctor ran up to the console, and started the time rotor, putting them into the Vortex.

'Happen to you a lot does it?' Martha asked with a smile, as she watched him orbit the console.

He looked up at her. 'What?'

'People you've never met wanting to kill you.'

He snorted a laugh. 'Not as often as you'd imagine . . . but at some point in my future, I must meet her and do something to upset her.'

If he only knew that in 1562, he would marry the young Elizabeth, and then travel on through time and space, never to see her again. Queen Elizabeth the First on the other hand, would see him again, today in fact, and she was very annoyed with him. Only a few days ago, the only woman he would have considered marrying was Rose Tyler, and now, that was never going to happen.

Martha understood how Elizabeth felt. Last night they had stayed at a boarding house, where Will Shakespeare was also staying. The Doctor had invited her into his bed, and she was ready to participate in some romantic activity, only to have him tell her how marvellous his “ex” was, and how she would have solved the mystery of the Carrionites.

The Doctor of course, was completely unaware of any feelings that Martha may have had for him. He only had eyes for one woman, and she was in another universe, and for him, out of sight did not mean out of mind.

'Fancy a cup of tea?' he asked her, once he'd stabilised the TARDIS in flight.

Martha looked around the console room. 'Yeah, but where's the kettle?'

The Doctor smiled at her. 'In the kitchen, of course. Come on, I'll show you,' he said, and led her through the console room to the corridor that led to the rest of the TARDIS.

She looked down the corridor, open mouthed. 'I only thought there was that one room, how big is the TARDIS?'

'Y'know, when it comes to transdimensional engineering, that is a very difficult question to answer.'

'Hmm, okay . . . and what are all these rooms?' she asked, putting her hand on a door handle to her left.

'Not that one,' he said sharply. 'Sorry . . . the kitchen's this way.' He guided her down the corridor to the kitchen on the right, glancing back longingly at the door to Rose's room, before following Martha into the kitchen.

'Tea or coffee?' he asked as he switched on the kettle and selected the mug with the glass Pyramid of San Kaloon on it, the one that Rose had bought for him when he was in his previous body.

'Tea, please,' she replied.

His fingers brushed past the 2012 Olympics mug that he'd bought for Rose only a couple of weeks ago, and settled on a plain, white mug. 'Milk and sugar?'

'White, one sugar thanks . . . So, Doctor . . . a Time Lord eh?' she said, trying to strike up a conversation with this very non communicative alien.

'Er, yeah, but you don't want to hear about me, what about you, how long have you been a doctor then?'

'Don't want to hear about you!' she said incredulously. 'How many aliens do you think I've met?'

He poured the water into the mugs. 'Well, I don't know, you didn't know I was an alien when I took my tie off in the street, did you? And Florence Finnegan in the hospital, perfectly normal person, until she had lunch.'

He sat at the table, and put her mug of tea in front of her, smiling at her with raised eyebrows. 'Okay, you've got a point, so how many aliens are there on Earth?'

'A few hundred at any one time, most of them are decent, hard working individuals, producing high tech consumer gadgets, or some very odd music for some reason,' he said, rubbing the back of his neck. 'Occasionally, you get the odd one or two who just don't like you, and want to destroy you.'

'What like those metal pepper pots and robots that recently tried to shoot everyone with lasers . . . ? What ever happened to them?'

The Doctor had a far away look in his eyes. 'We managed to stop them, sucked them into the Void,' he said sadly, remembering someone else who was nearly sucked in with them.

He suddenly switched his mood. 'So, you may have met all sorts of camouflaged aliens. Remember 10 Downing Street blowing up? That was aliens from a planet called Raxacoricofallapatorius, wearing dead people's skin, and taking over Parliament.'

'Oh, you're having me on, and they blew up Number Ten?'

'No, we blew up Number Ten to stop them.'

'You keep saying `we'.'

'Me and Rose, we were a great team . . . Anyway, you . . . a doctor then.'

'Not yet, I'm a medical student, in my final year. I've got to pass my exams first, talking of which, you are going to put me back to where I was . . . sorry, there goes that new language again, when I was, aren't you?'

'Of course, drink up and I'll drop you off.'

After they had finished their tea, they walked back side by side down the corridor towards the console room. As they walked past the "forbidden" door, as Martha thought of it, she deliberately looked at it so that he would see her.

'Was that her room?' she asked, nodding at the door.

'Yes . . . yes it . . . was,' he said changing his answer to past tense.

'It must be hard, trying to go on without her,' she said, trying to break through his defensive walls.

He looked down at her without speaking, was she being nosey, or was she being a doctor, trying to care about someone who was in pain? 'Life goes on,' he said as a matter of fact.

They walked into the console room, and Martha sat up on the jump seat, while he went to the console and started to prepare the TARDIS for landing.

'Just one trip, that's what I said. One trip in the TARDIS, and then home,' he reminded her, and then he remembered a conversation he'd had with Rose, when she was standing on a beach, crying.

['What're you going to do?']

['Oh, I've got the TARDIS. Same old life, last of the Time Lords.']

['On your own?'] That question had been the most upsetting of all, because she was really worried that no one would be looking out for him, no one to watch his back. He looked up from the console, over to where Martha was sitting, her face a picture of resigned disappointment.

['Because sometimes I think you need someone to stop you,'] he heard Donna say in his memories. Maybe she was right, Rose always knew what to say and what to do to bring him back from the brink. Maybe to honour her memory, and for his own sake, he should see if Martha would take one more trip, just to see how she gets on.

'Although I suppose we could stretch the definition. Take one trip into past, one trip into future, how do you fancy that?'

'No complaints from me,' she said with a smile of anticipation.

He remembered Rose smiling like that. ['I'll never get used to this . . . Never. Different ground beneath my feet, different sky, it's beautiful. Oh, I love this. Can I just say . . . travelling with you . . . I love it.']

He knew exactly the right place to take Martha.