White Pills

Summary: The owner of a 33rd century sugarleaf plantation takes pills. She doesn't remember what they're for, just knows that she needs to take them - three times a day without fail. But when she encounters the Doctor he thinks she needs a change of prescription.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, and also, as with so much of what I write, several of Sandy Pearlman's inventions may pop up here and there.

A/N: This is a rewrite of something I literally wrote years ago, hopefully improved a lot since then but I'm still not sure if it's any good. I am worried that the main OC in this is a bit of a Mary-Sue, or at least she's coming across that way in the first couple of chapters, so I'd appreciate honest feedback to help me avoid that.

The winter market in this is modelled on the kinds of Christmas markets you get in continental Europe – the stalls are mostly small wooden huts and tend to be arranged in rows. I've been to a few Christmas markets in Belgium, Holland and Germany and most of them followed this kind of set up.

Set between Journey's End and The Next Doctor

Chapter One – Edmus

The woman opened the money pouch she was holding and picked out three bronze chips. "I'll have a daimnut cake with cream, please," she said as she smiled over the counter in front of her. The green skinned girl serving went to pick out the cake, and while she was gone the woman pulled her woollen coat tighter around her and rubbed her hands together. It was an even colder winter than normal for the Northern Hemisphere of Acaritos, and the snow was falling heavily around them. Despite the weather, the Edmus Fest market was packed with people enjoying the festive season, and the woman had discovered she had a particular taste for the local sugar-based cuisine. For the two days she'd been at the Festival she'd seemed to live solely on daimnut cakes, sucresticks and caragel bars. Fortunately, her teeth had put up well with the onslaught of sucrose so far, but she was less certain about how the rest of her was faring with the planet's icy temperature. Shuffling closer to the counter and the heat of the ovens, she tucked her long black hair back behind her right ear and fiddled with the Acaritan cents she was holding while she waited for her order to arrive.

"Oh no, was that the last daimnut cake?" she heard a voice say off to her right, "I really wanted to try one of those. They're legendary in this part of the galaxy."

She looked across to see a man looking in disappointment at the heated tray on the counter as the last daimnut cake was removed from it and a big blob of cream was squirted on top. She let her gaze linger on him for a couple of seconds as she took in his appearance: he was tall and slim, with tousled brown hair and warm brown eyes. Normally, she would have just thought tough luck and been quite happy to take the last cake for herself, but on this occasion she found she wasn't particularly inclined to do that. Maybe it was because she found him quite pleasant to look at, or maybe it was because of just how disappointed he seemed, but there was something about him that prompted a rare display of generosity from her. As her daimnut cake was set down on a polystyrene tray in front of her she pushed it across to her right and gave him a smile. "You have it, I've already had three today," she said as she set down the cash on the counter and turned to the serving girl, "I'll have three sucresticks instead, please."

The man pushed the cake back across to her, "Oh no, really, you don't have to do that. I can wait for them to bake the next batch. You got here first."

She pushed it back, "No, seriously, someone needs to stop me eating them before my teeth all fall out."

He gave a slight chuckle at that. "And of course eating sucresticks instead is a sure way to avert that crisis."

She smiled back at him. "Look, just have the cake. If you've not tried them then you really have to do so." The serving girl handed her the sucresticks in a paper bag. She picked them up and took a bite out of one of the brown caramelised rods. "Think of it as me doing my bit to promote the local cuisine."

He gave her a warm smile, and she couldn't help but find something very pleasant about the way his face lit up when he did that. "Thanks. So is this really the best cake in the universe? That's what I've heard," he said as he picked up the cake and they both stepped away from the counter.

"Oh yeah, they most definitely are," she replied with a grin.

He looked slightly dubious. "I don't know, that Victoria Sponge Mrs Beeton made me is going to be hard to beat."

She frowned at him slightly. Mrs Beeton... that seemed to ring bells in her memory, but what she thought it meant didn't make sense. "There was a rather famous cake maker from Earth called Mrs Beeton, wasn't there?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, seemingly impressed. "There was actually, not many people know about her now but she was quite famous during her day."

The woman took another bite out of her sucrestick and chewed on it thoughtfully. "I must have read something about her at some point. Wasn't she old earth? Really old Earth, like nineteenth century or something?"

He gave her a smile, seeming quite pleased that she knew something like that. "Yep, she was probably the best cookery expert of the Victorian era."

She returned the grin, although she was still trying to work out where she knew that from. Maybe she had read something about it, but she couldn't remember where. Still, it didn't really matter as that Mrs Beeton couldn't possibly be the one he was referring to. After swallowing her mouthful of caramel she spoke to him again. "I would ask if your Mrs Beeton was any relation, but it was so long ago I don't think there's any way to know. I guess it's just coincidence."

"Coincidence? Well..." he said, looking as if he might dispute that for a moment, but then carried on with, "Yes, of course it is. Still made a great cake though."

She took another bite of the sucrestick and gave a shrug. "Victoria Sponge is alright, but a bit plain. I think you'll like that one better."

"Well, we're about to find out," he replied, flashing her another grin.

She smiled back, but at that point she just happened to notice someone exit the hut housing the cake stand behind him and disappear into the crowd. She froze. There was no reason in particular that should have caught her attention, except for the fact she thought she recognised the person in question. It had only been the briefest of glimpses, but she was certain it had been the same man from earlier. What had he been doing at the cake stand? She looked down at the half eaten sucrestick in her hand and put it back into its paper bag. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a good idea to finish it off now.

Turning her attention back to the man she was standing beside and realising he was about to put the daimnut cake in his mouth, she quickly put a hand out to stop him and pushed it back down. "Actually, no, probably best you don't eat that one," she said. "It was the last on the tray, probably stale. You won't get a very good first impression if you try that. Go buy yourself something from the next batch." She rummaged round in one of her pockets and took out a couple of Acaritan cents from the money pouch which she pushed into his hand, not giving him chance to protest. He was looking at her with a slightly puzzled expression and seemed to be about to ask a question, but she didn't plan on hanging round to answer it.

"I think I'll be alright as long as it's still got daimnuts in it. What makes..." he began, but she continued talking over him.

"I, er…I think these sucresticks might have been off as well. I'm not feeling too good. Sorry, you'll have to excuse me," she said, and before he had chance to say anything more she'd turned and disappeared into the crowd.