Fic: Victory Prelude (Prompt Fill #11)
From pitry One of our "recast Eleven episodes as classical Doctors" ideas! (The likelihood of me actually writing an epic Pertwee six-parter version of ‘Victory of the Daleks’ gets ever less, so have a very silly ficlet of a prologue for it instead).
Title: Victory Prelude
Author: lost_spook
Rating: All ages
Word Count: 531
Characters/Pairings: Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, Third Doctor, Jo Grant
Notes/Warnings: AU UNIT-era version of Victory of the Daleks.
Summary: The Brigadier isn’t impressed by the Doctor’s latest reason for absconding from UNIT.
***
“I’m sorry, Doctor,” said the Brigadier, “but when it comes to you and your improbable excuses, this one takes the biscuit!”
“Oh, I didn’t say I wasn’t going to Dorset with you, my dear chap,” returned the Doctor with a smile. “Good grief, between you and the Time Lords, it’s bad enough as it is. I’m not going running every time the wretched Prime Minister phones as well.”
Jo attempted to say something incoherent through a mouthful of jammie dodger.
“Miss Grant.”
“Sorry, sir.” She swallowed hastily. “Yes, but Doctor, it was Winston Churchill, and he is dead, after all. I mean, if dead people are ringing you up and asking you for help, you have to take notice -”
The Brigadier stopped. “My point exactly. Unless you’ve been holding séances in the lab and wasting government money, then I hardly see how -”
“You never did understand time, Brigadier.”
“Yes, but hang on,” said Jo, frowning. “If you don’t go, but you were meant to, what if the world’s going to suddenly end nearly thirty years ago? I mean, you’ll feel a bit silly going to Dorset if it’s not even there any more, won’t you?”
The Doctor turned and opened his mouth to argue, or to correct her faulty logic, or possibly her imperfect understanding of time travel, but Jo failed to give him a chance, leaping to her feet, and clutching at his jacket as she had another thought.
“And, anyway, all of this… What if it’s some jolly old plot of the Master’s? It sounds exactly like him.”
The Brigadier observed the Doctor’s reaction on hearing this, and became resigned to the fact that he would be travelling to Dorset without the aid of his scientific advisor. “Well, you’d better join me down there the second you get back. Is that understood, Doctor?”
“Mm hmm,” said the Doctor, opening the TARDIS door. “Yes, yes. Come on, Jo.”
She stopped to snaffle the remainder of the packet of biscuits and gave the Brigadier a cheeky yet apologetic grin as she slipped through the doors past the Doctor. The Brigadier decided not to mention that they were government property. He suspected she was probably about to earn them, if he knew the Doctor.
“Unless,” said the Doctor, turning back, “you want to come? Probably the sort of fellow who’s right up your street - likes blowing things up and shooting at them.”
The Brigadier reached for the hat he’d laid down on the workbench. “Unlike you, Doctor, I’m not at liberty to ignore orders. I could mention that you are also, technically, an employee of UNIT and -”
“Oh, don’t worry, my dear chap,” said the Doctor, with a smile of sudden charm and arrogance. “This is a time machine, you know. I shall arrive there long before you do!”
As the TARDIS vanished from the lab, the Brigadier turned away. It might be a time machine, he thought, but if the Doctor got to Dorset before him, he’d eat this hat rather than wear it.
And, honestly, he thought, as he walked out of the room, the Doctor’s outrageous name-dropping only got more and more unbelievable by the day.
***
Title: Victory Prelude
Author: lost_spook
Rating: All ages
Word Count: 531
Characters/Pairings: Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, Third Doctor, Jo Grant
Notes/Warnings: AU UNIT-era version of Victory of the Daleks.
Summary: The Brigadier isn’t impressed by the Doctor’s latest reason for absconding from UNIT.
***
“I’m sorry, Doctor,” said the Brigadier, “but when it comes to you and your improbable excuses, this one takes the biscuit!”
“Oh, I didn’t say I wasn’t going to Dorset with you, my dear chap,” returned the Doctor with a smile. “Good grief, between you and the Time Lords, it’s bad enough as it is. I’m not going running every time the wretched Prime Minister phones as well.”
Jo attempted to say something incoherent through a mouthful of jammie dodger.
“Miss Grant.”
“Sorry, sir.” She swallowed hastily. “Yes, but Doctor, it was Winston Churchill, and he is dead, after all. I mean, if dead people are ringing you up and asking you for help, you have to take notice -”
The Brigadier stopped. “My point exactly. Unless you’ve been holding séances in the lab and wasting government money, then I hardly see how -”
“You never did understand time, Brigadier.”
“Yes, but hang on,” said Jo, frowning. “If you don’t go, but you were meant to, what if the world’s going to suddenly end nearly thirty years ago? I mean, you’ll feel a bit silly going to Dorset if it’s not even there any more, won’t you?”
The Doctor turned and opened his mouth to argue, or to correct her faulty logic, or possibly her imperfect understanding of time travel, but Jo failed to give him a chance, leaping to her feet, and clutching at his jacket as she had another thought.
“And, anyway, all of this… What if it’s some jolly old plot of the Master’s? It sounds exactly like him.”
The Brigadier observed the Doctor’s reaction on hearing this, and became resigned to the fact that he would be travelling to Dorset without the aid of his scientific advisor. “Well, you’d better join me down there the second you get back. Is that understood, Doctor?”
“Mm hmm,” said the Doctor, opening the TARDIS door. “Yes, yes. Come on, Jo.”
She stopped to snaffle the remainder of the packet of biscuits and gave the Brigadier a cheeky yet apologetic grin as she slipped through the doors past the Doctor. The Brigadier decided not to mention that they were government property. He suspected she was probably about to earn them, if he knew the Doctor.
“Unless,” said the Doctor, turning back, “you want to come? Probably the sort of fellow who’s right up your street - likes blowing things up and shooting at them.”
The Brigadier reached for the hat he’d laid down on the workbench. “Unlike you, Doctor, I’m not at liberty to ignore orders. I could mention that you are also, technically, an employee of UNIT and -”
“Oh, don’t worry, my dear chap,” said the Doctor, with a smile of sudden charm and arrogance. “This is a time machine, you know. I shall arrive there long before you do!”
As the TARDIS vanished from the lab, the Brigadier turned away. It might be a time machine, he thought, but if the Doctor got to Dorset before him, he’d eat this hat rather than wear it.
And, honestly, he thought, as he walked out of the room, the Doctor’s outrageous name-dropping only got more and more unbelievable by the day.
***