A.N. : Hi readers,
I'm really excited by the amount of people following this story so thank-you. Also sorry about my slow updates but sometimes I find it hard to write because I get distracted easily.
Also someone asked what Scout looked like, which I thought I covered clearly but any way; she basically looks like the Doctor, Brunette, brown eyes, skinny. She's also picked up more than a few of his personality traits.
Another thing that was asked was about her name; I do explain it in this chapter, but it's from her point of view so I couldn't explain it the way I wanted. Atticus Finch is my favourite literary character of all time and have always felt that he is very similar to the Doctor in his morals.
And finally because I keep forgetting to do this,
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.
Martha held on to the console for dear life as the TARDIS rattled around. Scout was content upgrading her watch for the billionth time since her father had given it to her on her fifth birthday. It was one of those plastic kinds, the ones for kids that were easy to read. It might have been rather redundant for a time lord to need a watch, but even time lord children need to learn to tell the time. Scout loved her watch because it had both her favourite colours. TARDIS blue decorated with yellow bananas. Over the years she'd also added her own features. It was now a functioning vortex manipulator and teleport; which her father was not aware of.
'But how does it travel in time? What makes it go?' she heard Martha ask.
'Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything. Martha, you don't wanna know. It just does. Hold on tight!'
Scout latched on to the grating in the floor as was second nature after growing up with the Doctor's erratic driving. And he wondered why she felt the need give the TARDIS a break by distracting him with pranks.
Once the TARDIS materialised to a stop Martha felt she was able to talk again.
'Blimey! Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?'
'Yes, and I failed it.'
The doctor pulled on his coat and was helping Scout into hers before passing Martha's jacket to her.
'Now, make the most of it. I promised you one trip and one trip only. Outside this door… brave new world.'
'Where are we?'
'Take a look.' The Doctor opened the door. 'After you.'
Scout was the last one to walk out the door and step out into Elizabethan England. The first thing she heard was Martha's exclamation.
'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 gotta get used to this whole new language. When are we?'
The Doctor grabbed Scout's hand and pulled her and Martha back before something rancid was thrown from a window above them.
'Mind the loo.' Was the call that followed.
'Somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Sorry about that.'
'I've seen worse. I've worked the late night shift at A&E.'
The Doctor, still holding Scout's hand, began leading the girls forward. Scout was taking in her surroundings when Martha started talking again.
'But are we safe? I mean can we walk around and stuff?'
'You have legs, they seem to be working; why would walking around be unsafe?' Scout was genuinely confused at Martha's question. 'I thought you were meant to be a doctor.'
'It's like in the films. You step on a butterfly; you change the future of the human race.'
It was the Doctor who answered her though. 'Well, tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies. What have butterflies ever done to you?'
Scout had become confused by the conversation. 'Why would stepping on a butterfly change the future of the human race? Time isn't that delicate. Of course it would happen if the butterfly's proper death was a fixed point in time. But what sort of importance is there in a butterfly's death. Is it an alien butterfly?'
The Doctor and Scout had walked several paces, discussing ridiculous ideas of Hollywood, before they noticed that Martha wasn't following them anymore. When they turned around she was standing still staring at Scout like a stunned mullet.
'Martha?' The Doctor called.
'Coming.' She shook herself from whatever daze she was in to catch up with them.
'This is London.' She stated.
Scout tuned out of the rest of the conversation beyond the Doctor announcing the year as 1599. She was more interested in their surroundings. It wasn't her first trip to the pre-technological age Earth by any means, but every time she did she felt like she was truly in an alien environment. Technology was what Scout understood. Technology had rules. It could be pulled apart and put back together without any trace of damage; it didn't deviate from its programming.
But people were completely alien to her – which wasn't surprising considering she was one of the only two left of her entire species. It could also be said that she was an unknown entity because her very conception was supposedly impossible because her mother was human and her father came from a sterile race that reproduced through machines. Her father told her it had to have had something to do with the time Rose had absorbed the heart of the TARDIS and the fact that her conception and gestation had occurred inside the TARDIS and consequently the Time Vortex. When she was younger The Doctor determined that her DNA was essentially Time Lord. She had two hearts, telepathy and even the ability to see time and feel planets move beneath her feet. The only thing she didn't know was if she could regenerate; but there was only one way to test that and she wasn't eager to try.
'- The Globe Theatre!' she heard the Doctor announce. 'Brand new. Just opened. Though, strictly speaking, it's not a globe; it's a tetradecagon — 14 sides — containing the man himself.'
'Whoa, you don't mean... is Shakespeare in there?' Martha asked.
'Ladies, will you accompany me to the theatre?'
The three of them walked out of the theatre with a new curiosity to investigate. Love's Labours won, the lost play. The Doctor was positively bouncing with the exhilaration of getting to meet Shakespeare.
They walked into the dirty tavern and up the stairs where they heard celebrations.
'Hello!' the Doctor called out before knocking on the door, 'Excuse me! I'm not interrupting, am I? Mr. Shakespeare, isn't it?'
'Oh no, 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—' He took his hand away from his face and looked up at them in the doorway. 'Hey, nonny nonny. Sit right down here next to me.' He waved away his friends.
'Come on lads, I think our Will's found his new muse.'
'Sweet ladies,' Will continued as the three of them entered the room completely. 'Such unusual clothes, so … fitted.'
'Um, verily, forsooth, egads.' Martha bumbled out.
'No, no, don't do that. Don't.' The Doctor pulled out the psychic paper and waved it in front of Shakespeare while introducing everyone. 'I'm Sir Doctor of TARDIS and this is my companion Martha Jones and my daughter, Scout.'
'Interesting, that bit of paper. It's blank.'
'Oh, that's... very clever. That proves it. Absolute genius.'
'No, it says so right there. Sir Doctor, Martha Jones and Scout. It says so.'
'And I say it's blank.'
'Psychic paper.' The Doctor said to Martha in way of explanation. 'Um, long story. Oh, I hate starting from scratch.'
'Psychic. Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you exactly? What kind of name is Scout? More's the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady?'
What followed was one of those human conversations that always puzzled Scout; until they were interrupted by another man walking into the room.
'Hold hard a moment. This is abominable behaviour. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mr Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed.'
'Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it 'round.'
'I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine. The script, now!'
'But I can't.'
'Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled.'
Everything was anticlimactic after that. They all just sat around talking inside until they heard a disturbance outside. Everybody ran outside except Scout, who had been perusing Shakespeare's papers.
The three adults looked disturbed when they came back in and Scout recognised the look on her father's face as an indication that they were about to have another adventure.
'Poor Lynley.' Shakespeare was the first to speak. 'So many strange events. Not least of all, this land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor?'
'Where a woman can do what she likes.' Martha quipped from her position by the door.
'And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?' The Doctor was leaning on the wall with a haunted look on his face.
'I do a lot of reading.'
'A trite reply. Yeah, that's what I'd do.' He then turned to Martha. 'And you, you look at them like you're surprised they exist. He's as much of a puzzle to you as he is to me.'
'I think we should say good night.' With that she left to find the room that Dolly Bailey had readied for them.
'I must work. I have a play to complete. But I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor, and I'll discover more about you and why this constant performance of yours.'
'All the world's a stage.' He said from the door.
'Hm, I might use that. Good night, Doctor.'
Scout followed the Doctor out the door. When they got to the room they found Martha already inspecting it. There was only one bed. Scout walked to the far wall while pulling out wires and circuit boards from her pocket. She sat down on the floor and started poking around them. The Doctor walked over to the bed to lie down without even taking his shoes off. But Martha was still standing.
'Doctor, about something Shakespeare said; What kind of a name is Scout?'
'Ask her, she chose it.'
'What do you mean? She chose her own name? Are Time Lords that smart they choose their own names after birth?'
'No. Names have power, Time Lords hide their real names. As soon as we're old enough we choose something else. Although it's a good question, why did you choose 'Scout'?'
'After you read To Kill a Mockingbird to me I thought that Atticus and Scout's relationship was like you and me. Plus she was brilliant she was smarter than the teacher.'
Scout didn't pay any attention to them after that; she just went about upgrading her doo-dads until morning came.