UNIT Rebel
"Ah", the seven members of the 'I survived UNIT with the Doctor' sighed simultaneously as they all took a sip from their teas.
The seven members varied from military personnel to a medical officer to a journalist to scientific advisors come the Doctor's assistants. Usually, one wouldn't find such people together in a coffee shop in a quiet part of the Welsh coastline countryside. But all these people had one thing in common, or rather one person, the Doctor. There were two requirements to be allowed into the group. One, you had to have been involved with UNIT in the seventies, and two, you had to have had a close relationship with the Doctor, for example on first name terms.
This meant only these seven people fell into these categories. First, there was Sir Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbrigde-Stewart. He was the only one the Doctor would have ever called 'his boss', even if it was reluctantly. Then there was Sergeant John Benton, retired car sales man, now enjoying the few thrills his old life still threw at him no and again. Not to forget Captain Mike Yates, who was sadly led astray, but nonetheless was now relishing in the fact he left UNIT when he did and started up his own business. Dr Harry Sullivan was next along, now living his dream as a country doctor, even if now and again he got the occasional 'unexpected' patient.
On the opposite sofa to the men, was the gaggle of women, who had only just stopped talking. Dr Liz Shaw, lean backwards into the sofa. There weren't these sorts of pleasures on the moon, so she was taking full advantage of them whilst she was down here. Jo Grant had finally stopped, for a day at least, to catch up with friends she had only very recently gotten in contact with again. She had been the most recent addition to the group, but was accepted straight away. Finally, the least likely to be in the group of friends under normal circumstances, journalist extraordinaire, Sarah Jane Smith. In her mind, nothing could beat a cup of tea.
The Brig was just about to open his mouth to say something to the now settled group, when a low wheezing sound filled the air around them. The brochures on the coffee table in front of the group began to swirl around in a wind that seemed to have come from nowhere. Before they knew it, a blue box was materialising into existence in front of them. Now, any normal group of humans would have run for cover and hid behind the leafy plants in the coffee shop, which really wouldn't help to hide them. But this was not your average group of people as you have read above. And the occupant of the blue box was not your average Joe either. In fact, he would hate to be called Joe.
The seven of them stood as quickly as they could, the military man inside each of them men jumping straight into action as they got ready to salute. Closest to the blue door of the police box, the Brig was just about to knock on the bluest of blue painted wooden doors, when one of the creaked open.
A head popped out, covered in a mane of brown hair. At first glance, the head could have been mistaken for a girl, but when the occupant stepped out fully to reveal his in fact manly appearance, those thoughts went straight out of the window. Smiles plastered themselves upon Jo and Sarah's faces as they recognised the Doctor they had last met; bow tie and all. He, in turn, smiled back at each of them and waved. "Doctor?" Harry wondered.
"Yes Harry", the Doctor replied, "It is me, and don't you worry".
"A bit young this one, don't you think Doctor", the Brigadier commented on the Doctor's latest appearance.
"And your dress sense has hardly improved", Liz added, nodding to the bow tie.
"Bow ties are cool", the Doctor grumbled, "And so are fezzes".
"So, is there something we can help you with Doctor?" Benton got straight to the point; he was dying for some action.
"Yes there is something you lot can help me with", the Doctor nodded before looking out into space.
"And?" Mike urged him after a few seconds of silence.
"I was pausing for dramatic effect", the Doctor turned to him.
"No need to be dramatic", Jo told him, "Popping out from nowhere unannounced makes our hearts pound enough as it is without you adding 'dramatic pauses'".
"Sorry", the Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets, "So, to the point. I was rummaging around in what you would refer to as my 'tool shed' the other day, when I came across my tool box from back in the day with you strange lot".
The Doctor began to pace back and forth in front of the TARDIS doors, hands in pockets the whole time. The seven friends of the Doctor looked about each other worryingly as this could end up going anywhere knowing the Doctor. "What, the big red one?" Sarah Jane wondered.
"The exact one", the Doctor nodded, "So, I thought, 'hey lets use some of these tools to fix the TARDIS this time around'. I sat the box down upon my workbench, opened the lid, and found that everything was still where it should be as I left it over two hundred Earth years ago. But..."
He stopped and looked up at them. The face he was now sporting was, in a word, scary. It was not a face they would want the Doctor to make often, as his eyes pierced their ways down into his companions' souls. Slowly, he began to raise an object attached to a bit of string out from his pocket. "... as I looked through, I found this", he told them as he pulled the object out to reveal to them what it in fact was, "Who did it?"
The piece of string was not that fascinating. Whenever has string ever been? What was on the end of the bit of string was what the Doctor was referring to. With a loop wrapped around its small neck like a noose in a hanging, sat a poor lonesome jelly baby, which was probably now long past its sell-by date. The Doctor waved it in front of his face, making sure each and every single one of them had a good look at it for the guilt to set in.
The seven of them looked amongst themselves. Who was going to own up to the execution of this jelly baby? Who is in fact, the UNIT rebel?
RIP Lis Sladen