Chapter Text
In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;
But now is black beauty's successive heir,
And beauty slandered with a bastard shame:
For since each hand hath put on Nature's power,
Fairing the foul with Art's false borrowed face,
Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,
But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace.
Therefore my mistress' eyes are raven black,
Her eyes so suited, and they mourners seem
At such who, not born fair, no beauty lack,
Sland'ring creation with a false esteem:
Yet so they mourn becoming of their woe,
That every tongue says beauty should look so.
Donna couldn't help but grin as she saw the wonder on Martha's face. After traveling with the Doctor for a few… weeks? months? it was hard to tell in the TARDIS, she loved it as much as ever, but the newness of it all had somewhat eroded. Through Martha's eyes Donna found herself reexperiencing the amazement she'd felt the first time she'd stepped off the Doctor's TARDIS to find herself in a different time. Martha must have felt her gaze, or maybe just decided to look over at her, and Donna found herself peering into those beautiful dark eyes. “This is incredible,” Martha gushed. “We just saw Shakespeare! He was right in front of us!”
“We could do more than that,” the Doctor told her. “If you like. You see that inn?”
The Doctor pointed at a nondescript wooden building that advertised itself with peeling paint as The Elephant. “Yeah,” Martha said.
The Doctor grinned. “Come on then.”
Donna and Martha followed the Doctor into the inn. The Doctor led them down a hall littered with shadows and then opened a door to reveal a dim study, and inside was a man they recognized from the theatre, William Shakespeare himself. “Wow,” Donna found herself saying. “Will you get a look at that!”
Shakespeare looked up, his features formed into an expression of annoyance. “What is this then? I asked not to be disturbed.”
The Doctor stepped forward. “We're so sorry to bother you. We just saw your play, quite wonderful stuff. Let me introduce myself.”
Shakespeare put down his quill pen. “Let me guess,” he said in an exasperated tone. “You are my most devoted admirer. You've seen all of my shows and you just had to meet me.”
“No, well yes, but you see-”
“Why don't you let women perform in your plays,” Donna asked. If they were about to get ousted anyway there was no reason not to be controversial. “I think the play would have been better with a few more ladies on stage.”
“Is that right,” Shakespeare asked, looking somewhat amused. His gaze shifted from Donna to Martha and he did a sort of double take, subtle enough that a less keen eye might have missed it, but Donna didn't miss much and she saw his demeanor shift. “And who is this then? Come closer lady, that I might look upon your figure in the candlelight.”
Martha gestured to herself. “Me?” She didn't seem to believe she was being addressed.
“Yes you.” Donna pushed her forward.
Martha stumbled a bit, but came to a stop in front of Shakespeare's desk. “Uh… hi.”
“Hello,” Shakespeare said. “How might I address this sweet Ethiopian lady?”
“Oh, I'm not Ethiopian,” Martha said. “I'm a Londoner. English, same as you.”
“My apologies,” Shakespeare said as if the matter were trivial. “And does this Londoner have a name? Perhaps Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty? Or Artemis, goddess of the hunt, for you have surely captured my heart.”
Martha chuckled. “It seems to me your heart is easy pray, if it takes so little to catch it.”
“On the contrary lovely one, it takes a rare and splendid countenance to tempt me.”
Martha grinned. She looked away for a moment to hide her blush. “My name's Martha, Martha Jones,” she said.
“Martha,” Shakespeare said, rolling the name around in his mouth, tasting it. “Delicious.”
The Doctor cleared his throat, looking annoyed. Donna was giddy to see him not be the center of attention for once. This humbling experience might be just what he needed. “Right, well we just wanted to-”
“Please,” Shakespeare said, addressing Martha and ignoring the Doctor. “Sit down.”
Martha took a seat. “Thank you.”
“Did you see my play?”
“I did,” Martha said.
“What did you think?”
“I loved it. It was very funny. But I did wonder why the king and his companions ever chose to be friends. They didn't even seem to like each other all that much.”
The Doctor started to interject. “Well-”
Shakespeare raised a hand to silence the Doctor. “An excellent point my lady, but you may find that the friendships of men are not so good and pure as the ones that women share. We can never have the selfless love for one another that your sex is able to achieve as we always view each other as competition.”
“Competition,” Martha asked. “What for?”
Shakespeare gave Martha a look that made her blush again, and Donna had to hold back a howl of laughter. At last Shakespeare showed the Doctor some attention. “Good sir might you ask Dolly to bring some libations in for me and my companion? I'd be most obliged.”
“I-” The Doctor's squeak of indignation filled Donna with mirth, and she cut him off.
“Would be honored,” Donna said. “We'll be right back. Come on Doctor.” She started to pull him out of the room against his protests.
Shakespeare had already turned his attention back to Martha, and the two were engaged in a spirited debate on the natural differences between men, women and all alternatives to the two. Martha pulled her chair closer to Shakespeare's desk, and he leaned forward to stare into her eyes. As Donna led the Doctor away she saw Shakespeare reach forward and brush a strand of hair behind Martha's ear.
Once they were out of earshot Donna started sniggering. “That was incredible!”
“I don't see what's so incredible about one of the greatest minds in all of human history being an unabashed flirt.” The Doctor sounded very put out indeed. “He didn't even see us, he was so busy fawning.” Donna would have sworn he was pouting.
Donna cackled in delight. “You're jealous!”
“I am not!”
“You are so jealous.” Donna was all but preening at that point. “This is wonderful.”
“I am not jealous, what would I have to be jealous about?” The Doctor started to storm off towards the bar. “Why should I care if he wants to talk to her? I wouldn't. I don't.”
“You've got a big ol brain boner for-”
“A what?!” The Doctor looked outraged.
“You heard me. You've got an academic hard-on for the Bard, and you're all shirty because he likes Martha more than you.”
“That's not true!”
“Oh it so is! This is the best day ever!”
“I don't know why you're so happy. He wasn't paying any attention to you either.”
“What do I care? Shakespeare's not anything to me, some posh poet, whoop de doo. But you, you can't stand it. Your personal hero, and he won't give you the time of day! You've needed to be taken down a peg for a good long while, and this was just the thing!”
The Doctor scowled. “Do you need to be enjoying yourself quite so much?”
“Absolutely. C'mon, let's get the lovebirds their drinks. I'm so glad we picked her up.”
“Well this is the last time. After this, no more passengers. Overcomplicates things.”
Donna responded in a melodic voice. “You are jealous. J E L O U S jealous,” she sang.
“That's not how you spell jealous.”
“And I don't care. Anyway you would know how to spell it because that's what you are!”
“Right! Okay! Are we quite done?”
“Nope,” Donna said before turning to the bartender and ordering four pints on Shakespeare's tab. “I've only just begun.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes, but she caught him holding back a smirk out of the corner of her eye as she collected the drinks. Donna headed back down the hall to Shakespeare's study and entered without knocking to find he and Martha swimming in each other's eyes, speaking in the low tones of lovers. “Drinks!”
Martha jumped. “Oh! Thank you.”
“Yes, great thanks lady…”
“Lady Donna of the Noble family.”
“Which noble family,” Shakespeare asked, mistaking her surname for an adjective.
“The Noble family,” Donna repeated. “Have you injured my friend's honor,” she asked.
“Her virtue is quite intact, though not for lack of effort on my part,” Shakespeare replied.
“Isn't that a shame,” Donna teased. Martha gave Donna a scandalized look, but Donna just grinned in response. “You'll have to try a bit harder then, won't you,” Donna asked.
Donna watched Martha picked up a pint and start drinking, cheeks crimson. Martha was saved from having to come up with a reply when a belligerent fellow stormed into the room, face far redder than Martha's, and not just because he was of a paler natural complexion. The man looked like he'd washed his face with tomato juice, and his rage was palpable. “Mister Shakespeare!”
“Ah, my… friend. Please, join me and my new companions for a drink. We were just celebrating tonight's success.”
“It will be the last success you ever celebrate if I have anything to say! How dare you announce a new play without my approval?!”
“Did I not get it? I confess I have been most forgetful of late. Please sir, the hour is late and I have been merry. I will come see you in the morning to discuss the matter.”
“There is nothing to discuss because the play is cancelled! This will at last teach you to respect me and the office I hold!”
Donna watched the man stomp out of the room and then turned to see Shakespeare's reaction. He leaned back in his seat with a carefree smile. “Pardons for the disruption.”
“What will you do about the play,” Martha asked. “He seemed serious about not letting you perform. Can he do that?”
Shakespeare leaned forward again and cupped Martha's cheek. “Do not trouble yourself. It is kind of you to worry for me, but not at all necessary. Things like this tend to sort themselves out,” Shakespeare assured her.
“Really,” the Doctor asked. “How's that?”
Shakespeare either didn't hear the Doctor or pretended not to. “Now Lady Martha, how would you care to further our discussion on Woman's role in our evolving society over a drink… in my rooms,” Shakespeare asked.
Martha gave him an appraising smile. “Don't you have a wife in the country,” she asked.
“I do indeed,” he answered without hesitation or shame. “But we're in town, aren't we?”
Martha laughed. “You think quite a lot of yourself, don't you sir?” Donna could tell by Martha's smile that she wanted to accept the invitation. She'd worn that same smile herself many times, but never for someone famous who compared her to goddesses.
“I am a man of many accomplishments.”
Donna was an old hand at helping friends get both into and out of trouble, and had spent many years honing her skills in detecting which service was required. Donna was certain Martha didn't want out of the situation she was in so much as an excuse to stay and be praised by a handsome man with a silver tongue. “Martha, the Doctor and I have to go take care of that errand. We'll see you…”
Martha understood what Donna was asking without asking. Other women almost always understood the hidden language. “Oh yes, I'll see you in a few hours,” Martha said.
“Or in the morning,” Shakespeare suggested.
“In a few hours,” Martha repeated.
“Right,” Donna said. “See you then.” Donna led the Doctor away before he could say anything and spoil Martha's evening, although Donna wasn't sure what he could do to taint the infatuation the Bard was in the throes of.
“What errand,” the Doctor snapped as they made their way outside.
“You'll find something for us to do, you always do,” Donna said. “The whole point of this trip was do something nice for Martha and thank her for saving your life. Well now something nice is happening to her, so let's not ruin it, shall we,” Donna instructed.
The Doctor looked over his shoulder at the inn with a baffled expression. “So you want us to just wander around while…” He trailed off, for once not having the words to convey what he wanted to say. “For a few hours?”
Donna patted his shoulder. “Sorry, but yes.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes, and then came to a sudden stop. “Donna, take a look.” Donna followed the Doctor's gaze to a man Donna assumed was intoxicated by his struggles to remain standing. A moment later he collapsed to the ground. The Doctor raced over to the man, but Donna ran back to the inn. “Where are you going,” the Doctor shouted.
“To get Martha! She's a medical student, she might be able to help him!” Donna didn't get to hear the Doctor's response as she was already inside the inn. She supposed she should have warned Martha that traveling with the Doctor tended to balance every bit of fun with an equal measure of trouble.