To everyone that's just wandered in and didn't read the summary that well, this is a sequel. If you haven't read "So Much Dust," none of this will really make sense to you. To the rest of my faithful few, welcome back! Hope you'll like what I've come up with. Credit for the title goes to my Evil Twin who suggested the following quote as food for thought...

"Everyone has a doctor in him or her; we just have to help it in its work. The natural healing force within each one of us is the greatest force in getting well. Our food should be our medicine. Our medicine should be our food. But to eat when you are sick, is to feed your sickness." - Hippocrates

1 – Similar But Not the Same

"What the hell is he doing here?"

"Someone's seriously lost it if they've given him credentials... Wait a minute, is that even a real badge?"

Without looking up from his magazine, Junior cleared his throat and replied, "Yes, it is. According to the revised Operations Manual, anyway. It was released yesterday, you should have access to it..." He turned a page, resumed his reading. When the pair of interlopers showed no signs of moving on, he closed the magazine with a sigh and looked up, removing his glasses and putting them into a pocket for safekeeping. A squint up at the identification tag worn by one of the duo identified them as a lesser file clerk from the Earth-Human office, his companion an assistant to the Archivist from the same office. "I'm sorry, can I help you?"

"We were just wondering how desperate your Caseworker is to keep you out of trouble," said the file clerk, smirking in a way that started a faint irritated itch somewhere in the back of Junior's brain. "Slap a badge on you, chain you to a desk, what did it take?"

"Especially since marrying you didn't work," the assistant muttered. "Now there was a match made in heaven – Crazy and Crazier. Not sure why it didn't last."

This last jab finally elicited a reaction, Junior looking up to fix the two in a withering blue-eyed glare that made them realize their error. "You've got the wrong person. You also happen to be insulting my parents, who have put up with far more than either of you ever have or likely ever will and have done so far more gracefully and creatively than most of the people in this room." He paused to drink the last of the water from his glass and contemplated the ice at the bottom for a moment.

The clerk and the archivist traded nervous glances, and when they looked back at the table they saw that its sole occupant had vanished completely. Then the assistant became aware of a cold, slick sensation trickling down his spine; he spotted the empty water glass on the table and let out an aggravated roar, rounding on the file clerk who did his level best not to laugh. "Damnit! Why do I have to be the one getting the ice down the shirt? This is all your fault!"

"So let me get this straight. In your first day at work you have managed to provoke not one but fifteen complaints, all on the basis of mistaken identity, mind you, and four calls to Security wondering what in the cosmos a Time Lord is doing working as a contractor!" Cameron dabbed at his brow with a handkerchief to erase the fine sheen of sweat beading there before continuing. "It's gotten to the point where I've had to issue a press release saying that no, things aren't going quite to hell just yet, and any further issues should be routed to Lilith – wherever she is! And Blessed Elder, would you at least look at me when I'm talking to you?"

"Oh. Right. Sorry, Granddad. It's not that I wasn't listening or anything like that, just doing some research - "

Cameron scowled at this lack of professional courtesy and leaned across the desk to snatch the glossy pamphlet out of Junior's hands. He skimmed over the contents and tossed it back at the younger man with a disgusted noise. "Weight loss? You're already skinny as a toothpick. One of the more pleasant things you scooped from the gene pool, I might add. Also, what did I say about using personal names on duty?"

"When aren't you on duty?" Junior retorted, collecting his coat from the back of his chair as he rose and then headed for the door. "Well, sir, I'm out for the day. Call me if you need me."

"Mum, I'm home!"

Silence.

"Mum...?"

When this second summons met with the same lack of response, Junior began a worried search through the house. A peek into the living room revealed a large pile of used tissues next to his mother's recliner, and further exploration showed that a closet in the master bedroom had been left open, jumbled contents spilled over the normally tidy carpet. The room serving as a home office for his stepfather now stood gapingly empty, stripped of the filing cabinets and inventories of rare artifacts, and it was this last inconsistency that sent Junior racing for the basement door. He ignored the pulsing red light posted next to the reinforced metal hatch – long ago placed as a courtesy to warn others that something time-consuming, delicate or extremely hazardous was taking place – and threw the override switch.

A primal survival instinct told him to step back and he did, barely in time to dodge the metal hatch as it burped open with a percussive clang. Waving aside the acrid smoke wafting up through the opening, Junior hopped through and clattered down the stairs into the cavernous workshop space where his mother spent most of her spare time. "Mum, are you okay?"

The response was almost too quiet to hear, an angry choked sob followed by "Go back upstairs, honey. Mama's working!"

It was the same phrase that he'd heard countless times growing up, but something seemed different this time and it was this that made Junior decide to do exactly the opposite. He stopped long enough to flick a series of switches controlling the auxiliary ventilation system, cycling fresh air into the confined space so that its inhabitants could breathe safely. "Where did he go, Mum?"

"Who, that glue-sniffing dusty whitewashed Post-it of a man named Evren that I was dumb enough to shack up with? He works in the Artifacts Department, Junior – I thought he was stable, nice enough to keep around and too boring for anyone else to try and steal!" A soot-caked figure emerged from the epicenter of the smoke cloud, wiping the film away from her safety goggles with a rag. "And, Elder take him, I was finally starting to like him. How dare he have an affair?" Junior stood speechless as his mother lowered her goggles back into place and picked up the business end of a welding torch from its bracket on the side of her workbench. "And especially with one of those airbags from Personnel!" Her son scrambled to put on a spare set of goggles retrieved from the bench as she ignited the torch and began the final touches on one of her many projects. "What's she got on me, honestly?"

Junior waited until the last of the sparks had died down before addressing his mother. "Did he say why?"

"You bet he did! In his usual calm, articulate way." She peeled the goggles off one last time and tossed them in the general direction of the bench, then sagged into the high-legged stool usually reserved for detail-intensive work. "He said 'Lilith, you know I love you and the kids to pieces, but I just can't do this. I need someone normal, not someone whose brain is halfway out to Mars or wherever he happens to be. You might be divorced on paper but heaven knows your heart – er, hearts, aren't.' And that is completely untrue, so I told him to get the hell out." She shook her head, grinning ruefully. "Look at me! I'm just setting all kinds of records – first Sidra to be divorced, first Sidra to re-marry, and first Sidra to get re-divorced!" An exaggerated sniff and a forced smile. "So, how was your first day at work?"

"Um. Just fine, really," mumbled Junior, scuffing a foot on the floor. "Why don't you get cleaned up while I step out and grab us something nice for dinner?"

"Fine, whatever. Just stay out of trouble and don't take too long, okay?"

The arrival of the spaceships was heralded by a rhythmic pulse more felt than heard, and Junior felt a light click on inside his brain as elements of five hundred years of voracious learning and rigorous schooling fell into place. "Adipose! Oh, now that's just clever – illegal seeding aside, mind you, but it's not like humans have got much use for the fat anyway other than sitting on it." Even as the rest of the bystanders were transfixed in awe by the sight of luminous sentient blubber-cubes rising into the air – you people are quick to forget that at least three of those cute little creatures came from your aunt Enid's arse-fat, Junior mused – he found himself scanning the rest of the scene for any familiar faces, craning his neck so that he could see and perhaps guess the identities of three barely visible figures on the roof.

So intent was he in his search that he did not notice the hood of his hastily donned sweatshirt falling back and revealing his profile to the young woman standing next to him. The blonde let out a startled exclamation, just loud enough to get Junior's attention, and threw her arms around him in an overjoyed hug. "I knew I'd find you!"

Junior thanked heavens for the easily-distracted capacity of the general human populace as he tried to extricate himself from this awkward scenario with little to no avail. "I'm sorry, miss – not that you aren't attractive – but... I don't think we've met."

"Don't be silly! After all we've been through - "

"You've got the wrong man. Again, I'm really, really sorry." Breathing a quick prayer for forgiveness to the Elder and anyone else that might be watching, Junior willed himself away to home and safety.

Hell, I forgot all about dinner...