Clear Skies

Brigadier Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, retired, had been having a very peaceful morning. He had been sitting with his paper in the garden, enjoying his tea and the sunshine. He hadn't been called on account of an emergency in two days. His wife was out of the house for the morning. He stretched his arms, hanging his cane off the back of his chair. Yes. It was going to be a very quiet day, he had thought.

That was before he heard the noise. That noise. It made him sit bolt upright in his chair. The unmistakable sound of-and yes, there it was, materializing just to the left, thank heaven, of Doris's favored begonias. The blue panels glowed in the morning light. And then the door opened.

"Brigadier!"

The Brigadier did not recognize the voice. And yet he did. He did not recognize the tall, lean man with scruffy hair, a poorly buttoned suit and a pair of trainers who came bounding out. And yet he knew exactly who it was. His mustache twitched as he smiled.

"Well, good morning, Doctor! If I hadn't seen a recent photograph of you after that Sontaran debacle I wouldn't have recognized you." He stood stiffly, and looked his oldest friend up and down. "You've gone a bit youngish in this regeneration."

"Really? You think so?" The Doctor flexed a hand in front of his eyes as if checking the fit of an article of clothing.

"Yes, well I guess I did. But I've been younger. Should have seen me when I was blonde." He whirled on the heel of one trainer, facing his ship a moment.

"Jenny! Come on!"

"Jenny." The Brigadier's eyebrows rose. "Your travelling companion of the moment?"
"Sort of." The Doctor said over his shoulder. He took another step towards his ship. "Jenny-"

"I'm coming."

After a moment, a girl stepped from the TARDIS, adjusting the strap of a satchel over her shoulder and across her chest. And such a girl. Petite, slim, with skin like a china doll and hair like silk. She glanced around, and her wide blue eyes seemed to take in every detail. Then her eyes fell on him. She snapped to attention and threw a very nice salute.

"Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, sir! Pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Stand down, Soldier." The Doctor said, a grin on his rather boyish face. He smiled at the Brigadier, dark eyes sparkling.

"Brigadier, let me introduce you to Jenny. My daughter. Jenny, this is the Brigadier."

The Brigadier was suddenly very glad he'd set down his teacup when he stood.

"Your daughter?"

"The one and only." The girl said, smiling. The Doctor shrugged.

"I might as well tell you lot now, save a lot of confusion later. Thought about keeping it secret, but if she's travelling with me, not much point, is there?"

The Brigadier took a breath. He cleared his throat.

"Well. Pleasure to meet you, young lady. I must say, you learned a salute rather well."

"Thank you, sir."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Brilliant. Two soldiers I've got on my hands now." But his smile returned with barely a pause. Then his eyes shot to the table.

"Ooh, is that tea, Brig? I'd love a bit of tea!"

Ten minutes later, they each had a full cup of tea.

"So, Doctor." The Brigadier asked, sipping his tea, "What brings you around?"

The Doctor lounged back in his chair, teacup in hand. "Actually, it's a bit of a question. Ooh, good tea. What's the flavor?"

"Orange Pekoe."

The Doctor took another swallow. "Really? Then the pekoe a few centuries from now is rubbish. Had some over in America in twenty-two twenty. Awful stuff."

Jenny smiled over the rim of her mug."Wasn't the time, Father. It was the place. You can't expect decent tea from an American supermarket."

"Don't go getting favoritism for one landmass over another, Jenny. Lot of wars started that way."

The Brigadier cleared his throat.

"I'd make a guess that you didn't come here to discuss tea quality, Doctor."

"Hmm?" The Doctor glanced over the rim of his mug at his friend. He swallowed.

"Oh, right, question. Erm-just wondering…do you still have Bessie?"

The Brigadier's eyebrows rose.

"Bessie?"

"Yes, Bessie. She around anywhere?"
"In the garage, actually."

The Doctor smiled. "Brilliant."

"Who's Bessie?" Jenny asked.

The Doctor's grin widened. He jumped to his feet, setting down his cup.

"The thing I promised you. Allons-y."

……………………………………………………………………..

The Brigadier pressed the button, bringing the garage door up.

"There she is!" The Doctor said, throwing out a hand with a flourish. Jenny looked from his excited face to the garage.

"It's a car."

"Oh, this is no plain ol' car, Jenny. Did a bit of work on her back in the day."

"Work?"

"Take a look in the engine."

Jenny glanced up at her father, gave a smile, and strode over to the car.

"Interested in mechanics, is she?" The Brigadier asked. The Doctor nodded.

"Interested in everything, really. Anything she gets her hands on she has to understand."
The Brigadier smiled lightly "Then she is definitely yours."

"Yes, she is." His friend murmured.

"She looks as if she knows what she's doing." The elderly man said, watching the bright girl deftly lift the bonnet and poke her head underneath.

"She's doing all right."

The Brigadier glanced up at the Doctor. Too bad that he was quite a bit taller now. His face was calm and relaxed, a small smile on his lips.

"And you, old man?"
The Doctor glanced at him absently.

"Me? What about me?"

"Are you doing well?"

The Doctor gave him a disparaging perusal, looking for a moment much as he had when he was his old, irascible self.

"I'm fine, Alastair. Really, does everyone have to ask me that?"

"Yes." The Brigadier said quietly, "Since you never answer the question properly. I'd very much like decent reply."

The Doctor shrugged. "I'm doing fine. Really, I mean it. It's been better of late." He looked back at his daughter.

"A lot better." Then he smiled at the Brigadier, a real smile, full of excitement and a bit of pride. "Actually, it's been a whole lot better."

The Brigadier nodded slightly. That was a smile that the old officer had rarely seen. "Good, then."

Jenny's voice came floating from behind the bonnet.

"Father! You added that to a combustion engine?!"

The Doctor grinned.

"Thought she'd like this. I explained a combustion engine to her, but you really have to see some things for yourself to understand them."

"Hmf. You explained a combustion engine to her, and she already understands the workings." The Brigadier leaned on his cane. "I shudder to think what else you've been teaching her."

"Anything and everything, Brig. Anything and everything. Sometimes she picks up things I didn't know I was teaching. There's a lot she has to learn. A few things I have to learn too, I suppose, always a surprise that. And the minute she hears about something she wants to try it."

"Is that what you came for?"

"Mostly. I made a bit of a promise, and now I suppose I'll have to be keeping it."

"Promise?"

The Doctor sighed heavily. "I made the stupendous and monumental blunder of telling her that I'd teach her to drive a car. With all I did to her, Bessie is the most indestructible vehicle I know. I only hope she's up to it. Hope I'm up to it."

The Brigadier almost smiled at the hopeless expression lining the older man's face. "Driving a car should be simple compared to what you get up to."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "You've never seen the way Jenny shuttle-pilots. If she drives the same way…"

Jenny shut the hood. The Doctor switched on his bright smile as his daughter came jogging over.

"Ready?"

Jenny grinned, her face alight. "Oh I'm ready!" She glanced at the Brigadier, who held out the key.

The Doctor shot another look at his friend.

"Well, we'll be back in a bit, then." He dropped his voice as Jenny jogged to the driver's side, muttering "Wish me luck."

The Brigadier watched the two Time Lords climb into the car. The Doctor rolled down his window, and the Brigadier could hear his voice.

"Right, Jenny, this is a bit simpler than a hover vehicle in some ways, but in some ways it's more complicated. You have to factor in friction and drag from the contact of the wheels on the road, and the stopping distance is a lot longer. Now, that's the gearshift, you pull it into each of these positions in turn as your speed increases. That pedal's the clutch; you push it down when you shift. That's the brake, and that's the gas. The wheel is pretty responsive, but not as much as a kereche, so be careful. First, just get the feel of it."

"Right."

"Go ahead and start, then put it in reverse. The position marked R, there."

The little yellow car revved to life.

"Okay, push the gas very, very slowl-" the car shot backwards.

"Slowly, Jenny!"

"That was slowly!"

"No, that was kamikaze! It needs only a little pressure-right, good- okay, turn the wheel-a bit more-not that much more! Okay, good, good, now just lightly press the gas-lightly! Push it lightly, thanks, I like my face the way it is and I'm not interested in regenerating any time soon! Okay, good, good, out onto the street, stay on this side of the white lines, and watch for other cars-okay…Jen-ny!"

Bessie peeled out of the Brigadier's driveway. Standing tall and straight in front of his home, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart smiled. It was going to be a good day.