Rating: K+

Spoilers: Blink

Pairings: Dr/Martha

Summary: Martha is working in a chemist shop in Cardiff while waiting for the Tardis when a familiar face walks in.

Disclaimer: I own none of it

Authors Notes: An idea I had while I was bored at work, set in Cardiff because as the rift is there I thought the Tardis would made a beeline for it.

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Martha had been working for Mr Evans the Apothecary for about a month now, the Doctor had insisted they move to Cardiff after they had been sent back to 1969. She'd protested vehemently about moving to Wales but the Doctor insisted, he'd told her about a rift running through Cardiff and if the Tardis was going to land anywhere it would be there, she sighed as she wondered for the millionth time where the Tardis was

"Are you alright Mrs Smith?" asked Mr Evans

"What? Oh yes I'm fine thanks" she replied

"Nothing wrong at home is there?" he asked

"No, everything's fine, I'm...missing London I suppose" Martha replied, Mr Evans patted her arm and went back to his potions and pills. Martha had gone into the old fashioned, even for 1969, chemist shop looking for something strong to clean their run down little flat with, the Doctor had said it was quaint, she'd said it was a breeding ground for MRSA and she wouldn't be happy until it was clean and disinfected. She'd stormed out of the house and he'd muttered something about 'Student's being used to mess', Martha had found the nearest chemist shop after the lady in what passed for a supermarket had told her Evans the Apothecary had what she needed, she'd gone in and ten minutes later she'd come out with a job. Martha sighed again, she owed Mr Evans a lot, he had seen past her skin colour and had seen her as a woman who knew what she was talking about and she had told him that she had been training to be a doctor but had had to give it up when she got married. He'd told her that he needed help in the shop and if she was willing, a bit further down the line, he'd train her as an apothecary. She was now used to the stares and the nudges as she walked passed, the amount of people with her skin colour in the area you could count on the fingers of one hand but the real cause of the whispers was the fact she was 'married' to a white man. The Doctor took it all in his stride but she was the one who had to put up with all the whispers, although she'd seen him involved in one hell of a row with someone on the street late one night, he'd come in and ranted for an hour without drawing breath about ignorant lesser species.

"Here you are my dear," said Mr Evans as he handed her a cup of tea, Martha took it and thanked him. He wasn't a bad old boy he reminded her of the old man who had the sweet shop near her Gran's house when they were kids, the one who always called her Smiler and knew all the kids in the area by name. There wasn't enough of this kind of thing in 2007, getting to know your customers, or your patients, she vowed that when she qualified, she'd get to know all her patients properly, their name, husbands and wives names, kids, grandchildren, be an old fashioned kind of doctor. The door bell tinkled, she put down her cup and went to greet the customer, she stopped short she'd recognise that hat and that build anywhere,

"Gr... good morning can I help you?" she asked the woman, she could feel a lump forming him her throat already. The woman turned around, smiled and then put her hand to her chest "I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you"

"No it's just you look so much like my Francine, so much like her" said the woman, Martha plastered a smile on her face.

"Is Francine your daughter?" she asked

"Yes, she's getting married next month" the woman replied, the lump in Martha's throat got bigger knowing the truth as she did.

"Tell her...good luck," she said, all the Doctor's warnings about interfering in time went running through her head "so how can I help you?" she asked.

"I've got a sore throat, I'm on the church outing and I come down with a sore throat, isn't that typical" said the woman, Martha's resolve nearly cracked at the phrase, 'Isn't that typical' had been Gran's favourite

"I'll go and see in Mr Evans has anything for you," she said as she went through the curtain.

"Mrs Smith are you sure you're alright?" said Mr Evan as he saw Martha's face

"I don't know, there's a lady in the shop with a sore throat" she replied, Mr Evans reached for a packet of lozenges and handed them over

"Half a crown and I think maybe you should go home early" he said Martha smiled at his concern

"I'll be alright" she replied. She went back into the shop and handed over the packet "half a crown please", the woman handed the money over and smiled, Martha smiled back the memories of her childhood flooding over her, tea at Gran's on a Sunday after church, spending Friday nights sleeping over at Gran's when mum and dad went out to the pub. She could feel the tears beginning to well in her eyes, it was 1969 and Gran was standing in a chemist shop in Wales telling her about her parents wedding, Gran was alive and well and so full of life. Martha was so wrapped up in her memories that she wasn't concentrating on what she was saying

"When I was a kid, Mum had this big bottle of glycerine and honey that she'd give us when we had sore throats, equal quantities of each, something she got from...my...Gran...oh no", she said as she realized with horror what she'd done.

"Glycerine and honey for a sore throat, I'll have to try it when I get home, I get a lot of sore throats" she patted Martha's hand "thank you dear" she said as she left the shop

"Goodbye" said Martha as she gave into the tears.

"Mrs Smith, I insist you go home, there is something very wrong, now you go home and sort it out, I can lock up" said Mr Evans kindly, Martha thanked him, picked up her coat and ran home.

Gran had been in the shop, the Gran she remembered as a little girl before she got sick with Leukaemia. It had been seeing Gran so sick and nothing able to be done for her that had made Martha want to be a doctor and then she'd told her about the sore throat medicine, the doctor was always telling her not to mess with timelines and now she'd put her foot right in it.


The Doctor heard the front door slam and Martha's feet pounding up the stairs

"You're home early, is anything wrong?" he said, Martha said nothing so he looked up at her, seeing tears pouring down her face he leapt out of the chair and enveloped her in a hug "what's the matter, what's wrong?". Martha was crying so hard that she wasn't making any sense, he pulled her over to the sofa and sat them down, he stroked her hair and patted her back, soothing her like she was a child making her cry even more. When she'd calmed down and was able to talk to him he found out that her Gran had been in the shop, he'd learned how much she'd loved her Gran and how hard her death had been on her, she then confessed to him about how she'd told her about the sore throat medicine.

"Well the universe is still here," he said with a smile, she looked up

"What?" she replied

"We're still here, the universe hasn't imploded or anything" he said

"But I thought if the timelines were messed up in anyway, things would go seriously wrong" said Martha

"Did your Mum ever tell you where that family remedy came from?" asked the Doctor. Martha thought for a moment

"She said that Gran got it from a woman she met on the church outing to Wales...wait...oh my God...that was me all those years ago, but I wasn't born, Mum and Dad weren't even married by then" she said.

"Time's funny like that, paradox's, predestines, planning and all that" said the Doctor in his abstract way

"Like a self fulfilling prophesy?" Martha asked

"Yeah, something like that, you've been reading too much science fiction," he said with a grin

"Maybe I'm actually beginning to understand this time and space stuff" she replied. The Doctor wiped the remaining tears off her cheeks

"Come on, get changed, we're going out for dinner" he said

"Can we afford it?" she asked

"Of course we can," he said. Martha hugged him

"Thanks" she said

"My pleasure, it's what I'm here for" he replied wishing someone had been there to hold him when he'd cried over his losses.