Series 3 Rewrite with a Baby

Chapter 4: The Shakespers Code

There is no interlude between this episode and the last because their wasn't enough content to make it worth a chapter without turning this into a Martha bashing fic and making the Doctor want to through her out of the TARDIS before the get to Shakespearian London. Without further ado, we begin.

The Tardis was still bucking, and Martha was hanging on to the console.
"But how do you travel in time? What makes it go?"
"Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything. Martha, you don't want to know. It just does. Hold on tight."
The Tardis came to a halt, and Martha fell 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. I promised you one trip, and one trip only. Outside this door, brave new world." (The Tempest.)
"Where are we?" Martha asked,
" We'll take a look, I have to get Petra."
The Doctor opened a door and left the console room leaving Martha to wonder who on earth Petra was.
The Doctor came back holding a fluffy bundle, "Martha, meet my daughter Petra, Petra this is Martha she is a nice lady." The Doctor said to Martha as he showed her the bundle which just so happened to be a baby wrapped in a fluffy shawl.
"You have a daughter"
"I mentioned to her you several times Martha, after you" he said pointing to the door she opens it to reveal washing hanging on lines below the overhanging eaves.
"Oh, you are kidding me. You are so kidding me. Oh, my God, we did it. We travelled in time. Where are we? No, sorry. I got to get used to this whole new language. When are we?"
"Mind out." The Doctor said as he pulled Martha back as a man emptied his toilet bucket from an upstairs window. "Gardez l'eau." The same man yelled.
"Somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Sorry about that."
"I've seen worse. I've worked the late night shift A+E. But are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"
"Of course we can. Why do you ask?"
"It's like in the films. You step on a butterfly, you change the future of the human race" (why would the death of a butterfly change the future of the human race)
"Tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies. What have butterflies ever done to you?"
"What if, I don't know, what if I kill my grandfather?" (Your grandfather was around in the 16th century, impressive)
"Are you planning to?"
"No."
"Well, then."
"And this is London?"
"I think so. Round about 1599
"Oh, but hold on. Am I all right? I'm not going to get carted off as a slave, am I?"
"Why would they do that?"
"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. (Yes Doctor but you are a white man) Besides, you'd be surprised. Elizabethan England, not so different from your time. Look over there. They've got recycling." He pointed at a man shovelling horse manure into a bucket. "Water cooler moment." He pointed at two men talked at a water barrel. "And the world will be consumed by flame." A prophet preached, "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..." The Doctor gots Martha to run along from the south end of old London Bridge, past St Mary Ovarie to a view of "Oh, yes, the GLOBE THEATRE. Brand new. Just opened. Through, 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?"
"Mister Tyler, I will."
"When you get home, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare."
"Then I could get sectioned."

Their performance had just finished, and the packed audience of about three thousand where applauding the actors. The Doctor and Martha have been watching with the rest of the groundlings, Petra was sitting up in the Doctors arms staring intently at the stage
"That's amazing, just AMAZING. It's worth putting up with the smell and those are men dressed as women, yeah?" Martha checked with the Doctor,
"London never changes." He said with a grin,
"Where's Shakespeare? I want to see Shakespeare. Author! Author! Do people shout that? Do they shout Author?"
"Author,Author," a groundlings beside her called, the crowd took up the chant.
"Well, they do now." The Doctor told her
Shakespeare came onto the stage, very full of himself, to the rapturous applause.
"He's a bit different from his portraits."
A pretty ginger lady dressed was like an aristocrat, and was sitting alone in one of the upper boxes. She took a rough doll with a strand of hair stuck to its head from her purse.