On a dark and windy night, the stately home creaked and groaned. Something knocked against the front door, once, twice, thrice. Inside, a young woman and a bespectacled professor turned away from their work. Together, they went out into the hallway, edging closer to the door and the professor opened it, revealing nobody.
Then the Doctor jumped into view, grinning. "Boo! We're looking for a ghost!"
The professor spluttered, looking over the man and his three female companions with a bewildered gaze. "And you are?"
McKenzie beamed. "Ghostbusters!" She high-fived her husband, who then pulled out his psychic paper, showing it to the professor and the young woman.
"I'm the Doctor."
"Doctor what?" the professor asked, shaking his head.
The Doctor shrugged. "If you like. And this is the Angel, Wanda and Clara." They each waved cheerfully.
"Ooh," McKenzie exclaimed, slipping further into the house. "But you are something different, aren't you? Major Alec Palmer, member of the Baker Street Irregulars, the Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare. Specialised in espionage, sabotage and reconnaissance behind enemy lines. You're a talented watercolourist, professor of psychology and ghost hunter." She shook his hand excitably. "Such a pleasure."
"Actually, you're wrong," the young woman told her, glancing across at Palmer. "Professor Palmer spent most of the war as POW."
"Actually, that's a lie told by a very brave man involved in very secret operations," the Doctor corrected. "The type of man who keeps a Victoria Cross in a box in the attic, eh? But you know that, because you're Emma Grayling, the Professor's companion."
Emma wrinkled her nose at him. "Assistant."
"It's 1974," he continued, rubbing his hands together. "You're the assistant and non-objective equipment. Meaning psychic," he added for Clara and Wanda's sake.
Clara smiled. "Getting that. Bless you, though."
Palmer nodded to his assistant. "Relax, Emma. They're Military Intelligence. So, what is all this in aid of?"
"Health and safety," Wanda lied. "The Ministry heard about what's going on down here. They sent us to check that everything is in order."
"They don't have the right," Palmer protested.
The Doctor winked at him. "Don't worry, guv'nor, we'll be out of your hair in five minutes."
McKenzie gasped loudly, zipping across the room to check out some of the equipment. "Oh, look! The ACR-99821! Lovely action on the toggle switches." She grinned at the others, most of whom looked confused. "Love a good toggle switch, me."
The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, scanning all around. Palmer narrowed his eyes. "What's that?"
"Gadget," the Time Lord lied. "Health and safety. Classified, I'm afraid. You know, while the backroom boffins work out a few kinks."
Clara raised her eyebrows expectantly. "What's it telling you?"
"It's telling me that you haven't been exposed to any life-threatening transmundane emanations," he replied, before turning to Palmer and Emma. "So, where's the ghost?"
***
"I will not have this stolen out from under me, do you understand?" Palmer declared as they all crept down a corridor, the Doctor leading the way with a candelabra.
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One Last Chance |6| The Ascension
Science Fiction✅ approx. 215,000 words After the horrors of the war against Thanos, the Doctor and McKenzie are finally together again, albeit missing a limb. But that isn't the only thing they are bereft of. The death of their son cut them to the core and they wi...
