(With apologies to the makers of ET this is for all the people who have wondered what the heck John Boulton, of all people, would be doing with a plastic sunflower on his desk.)

It was three in the morning and the station yard was deserted when Proctor returned from attending a suspicious fire. He sat for a moment in the parked car, reluctant to face the cold and the paperwork. Sitting there in the temporary warmth he caught a flash of blue and red lights in the rear vision mirror. Startled he turned around - who would use their lights in the yard? - and froze in sheer disbelief. A large Christmas bauble shaped spaceship was gently setting down in the centre of the yard. Proctor was frozen for a moment, not sure if he should have a good lie down or call for back-up on his radio. He did neither. Instead he shoved open the door and got out. Standing open-mouthed and shivering from the cold he saw the side of the spaceship breached by some sort of sliding door. In the light that shone out he saw a metal lattice drawbridge come slowly down. He saw more. He saw John Boulton standing quietly in the dark yard watching the door open. When the drawbridge reached the ground Sergeant Boulton bent over and picked up the plastic pot plant that normally adorned his desk. Carrying it carefully in front of him he climbed the gangplank.

"Sarge," bleated Proctor, coming forward as Boulton stepped into the spaceship.

The drawbridge started to rise. Boulton turned and was watching Proctor through the fine metal lattice. He raised a hand in farewell and before Proctor's disbelieving eyes a red light started to glow from his body where his heart should have been - Proctor had always subscribed to the popular belief that he didn't have such an organ. Slowly the four parts of the door slid shut. With a slight hum the chubby spaceship began to move. In a moment all that was left to see was a rainbow-shaped streak of red and blue lights in the night sky.