Chapter Eight

In Which Our Hero and Heroine Go to a Party

"London?" asked Rose. "London's big. Can't you pinpoint an exact location?"

"Yes, I can pinpoint an exact location." He gave her his most disapproving, condescending, disdainful, disgusted, absolutely withering look. "I already have. I can't just go landing the TARDIS in the middle of someone's front lawn, now, can I?"

"Sorry," she said quietly, pulling back a little. "I should have assumed..."

He didn't meet her gaze. "'S alright." There was something forced about his cheerful tone.

The TARDIS shuddered. They'd landed. "Here we are, then," said Rose brightly. She flung open the doors. "I'll call you later, Mum."

"Yeah," said Jackie, and left. Mickey gave Rose a half-hearted, one-armed embrace, nodded to the Doctor, and followed suit. The doors closed, and all was silent. Rose didn't dare speak. The Doctor looked around the control room, his gaze falling anywhere but on hers.

"Why are you mad at me?" she asked after a moment.

He grinned apologetically. "I'm sorry, Rose. Suppose it did come across that way." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm just worried about what's causing this disturbance in the vortex."

"Right," she said, and laughed it off. "So, where are we headed, then."

He smirked. "To a party."

"Oh, alright, that sounds--" she began, and then stopped. "To...a...what?"

"A party," he repeated.

"Please, please tell me we're not going to pretend to be kitchen staff."

"We're...not...going to pretend to be kitchen staff," he said hopefully.

She looked at him. "Are you saying that because we're not, or because I told you to?"

"Which one would you prefer?"

"That we're not."

He shrugged. "Sorry."

She sighed. "Alright, then," she said, and went to get changed.

The huge manor house that stood in one of the richest areas of London belonged to Mary and George Woodfield. The Woodfields were not important or famous, but they were very, very rich. The party that night was filled with a great many guests, some of which were important, some of which were famous, and all of which were also very, very rich.

In the rather grand main hall, the entrance to the manor, the guests were milling about, chatting, in the light from the massive chandelier above their heads. The door to the kitchens sat between the two sweeping flights of stairs. Just outside that door, two of the servers were talking. Or, at least, two people who looked like servers were talking.

"Remind me again why we're doing this?" said Rose, rather annoyed.

"I explained that last time we did this," the Doctor said calmly.

"Yeah, well," she muttered.

"Calm down," he said, grinning at her. "Just trust me."

"Isn't this a bit domestic for you?"

"Oh, shut up."

He vanished into the crowd, and Rose decided she might as well try and find out what she could.

By the time she had to return to the kitchen, it had been nearly half an hour and she hadn't found out anything. As she filled her serving platter with little snacks again, she heard one of the kitchen girls talking to some of the others. Something about an allergy to cinnamon. What an odd thing to be allergic to.

The Doctor came in as she was about to leave. "Found out anything?" he asked her in an undertone.

"Not really," she sighed. "That girl with the dark hair is allergic to cinnamon, and that's about it."

"Really. Ah, well. Listen, one of the guests caught my attention. She's got...dark, curly hair and a sparkly sort of dress on. She looked like a lot of them do, but the thing is, she wasn't acting like them. Seemed to think she was better than them, you know? Looking down her nose at everyone." He leaned closer. "You think you can find out more?"

"Why can't you?"

"Because I'm pretty sure she's not the one messing up the vortex," he said. "I'll find our little problem, but someone should keep an eye out."

"Right. See you later, then."

She slipped away and located the woman. She certainly did seem haughty. She laughed, and talked, but she seemed to think everyone here was a step below her, or something. It was the way a ruler might treat her subjects. Or the way...

"Strange," Rose whispered. "She acts like everyone here is on the same level. Haughty and just a little condescending, but like we're all the same. Sort of like the Doctor thinks of humans, 'least the ones who aren't me..."

She shook her head. It was probably just coincidence. But it was still strange.

"Would you like something to eat, ma'am?" she asked politely.

"Why, thank you," said the haughty woman, and reached out her hand. An inch from the snacks, she paused. Her gaze fixed on Rose, a mixture between surprised, disbelieving, and...angry? Then it was gone, and she went back to her conversation.

And that was the best Rose got.

When she returned to the kitchen this time, the Doctor was already there, waiting. So was the dark-haired girl who was allergic to cinnamon and a sandy-haired boy about the same age as Rose.

"Find anything else?" asked the Doctor as Rose came over.

"Not really," she said. "You?"

"Nope." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm beginning to think this was a false lead."

Rose looked at the cinnamon girl across the kitchen. "Yeah." Cinnamon-girl took a sip of water. "Might have been." Cinnamon set the water down.

"Well, we might as well stay," he said. "Be suspicious if some of the servants just vanished."

Rose was about to answer when Cinnamon crumpled to the floor.

Another server was just walking in when it happened, and she screamed and dropped a platter on the floor. Glass shattered everywhere. Rose ignored it and knelt down next to Cinnamon. "She's just fainted," she called. "Seems like she's having trouble breathing." She saw marks spreading down the girl's throat.

The Doctor stepped over her and dipped his fingers in the water Cinnamon had been drinking. He tasted it, and then shouted, "She's having an allergic reaction!" He sat next to Rose and started giving the kitchen staff orders. "Everyone else, clear back. We need someone to make sure she can breath, but she needs air." Rose backed away, and he stayed. "Does anyone know if she's got a kit?"

"She hasn't," said the girl who'd broken the tray. "She never though she'd need one."

"Rose," he commanded, "I need you to go down the third hall, second right, third left, down the stairs, through the closet, take a left, first door on your right."

"Right," she said, and sprinted away.

It took her five minutes to get back to the TARDIS, and nearly ten more to find the room. Why did this ship have to be so big? At least nothing had moved around. She just hoped she wasn't too late.

Cinnamon was in worse shape when Rose got back, but she was better quickly enough. "Lie still," the Doctor commanded as she began to wake up.

Rose giggled. "Rest—it's just what the Doctor ordered."

"Oh, shut up," he told her, grinning at her pun. "You, girl—what's your name?"

"Sarah," said the girl who'd dropped the tray.

"Sarah, you come over here and keep her still. Boy, what's yours?"

"Um, um," stammered the boy. "Andrew."

"Andrew, you...clean up the broken glass. Then go get back to work."

"Yessir," said Andrew nervously.

"Rose," the Doctor said. "I want you to just get back out there, but I need you back here in... fifteen minutes. Can you do that?"

"Yeah," said Rose, and picked up her platter and left.

"Snack girl, I've been looking for you," said a voice form behind. Rose turned. It was the haughty lady.

"I'm sorry," said Rose. "We had a bit of a scare in the kitchen."

"A scare?" Haugty's eyebrows went up. "What sort of scare?"

"A girl, with an allergy...she somehow got cinnamon in her water. We were quite worried, but she'll be alright."

"I see," said Haughty. "How, may I ask, did you know for sure that there was cinnamon in the water?"

"Er—a friend of mine," Rose said.

"And this girl had a...what do you call them? A kit?"

"No, er, my friend gave her...something."

"I should like to meet this...friend," said Haughty.

Rose swallowed. "Well, er, he's...in the kitchen..."

"Does he have a name, your friend?"

"John Smith," she said at once, the lie coming easily to her tongue.

"I see." Haughty seemed suddenly less so. "Will you allow me to speak with him?"

"Not my place to refuse you," said Rose, and led the way into the kitchens.

Haughty followed, and stopped in the doorway. Cinnamon still lay on the floor, but her eyes were open and she was breathing normally. Sarah was next to her. The Doctor was leaning against the counter. He looked up as Rose came in, and saw Haughty in the doorway.

Haughty stepped forwards and held out her hand. "I'm Tyirasamovarien. It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor."

A/N: Here you go—something really interesting is happening at last! Who is Tyirasamovarien, and how does she know the Doctor? How in the world did cinnamon get in the girl's water—and was it really just an accident? (That name, by the way, is TEA-a-ROSS-a-ma-VAIR-ee-en.) Read and review and get answers to all your questions! Or at least some of them. :P