Yes, thought Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, maybe I am a Nepo Baby. She’d grown up watching her father save the world. Well, she would have done if he’d ever been around. But he’d been too busy. Saving the world. It had been a strange childhood. Spent waiting for glimpses of him. That tired smile on his face after a long day. Patiently listening to her excited babble about finger painting while he’d been – well, she’d read the files. Gel guards. Axons. Devil Goblins from Neptune.

Once he was down to pick her up from school. Late, of course. She’d been standing alone at the gates, bored as ever, and glancing around to make sure no one saw him roar up in a military jeep. Instead, it had been a yellow clown car driven by a wizard. ‘You should never get in cars with strangers,’ he’d told her as she’d got in. ‘But Alistair’s a bit busy.’ Funny, hearing her father’s name. She pulled the face. She’d spent her whole life being told her father was a bit busy.

They’d roared off down the road, the man next to her smiling and talking and somehow passing her a bag of sweets while holding his hat on his head. ‘Little bit of a problem with giant cockroaches and Didcot power station,’ the man had laughed. ‘Can’t be bothered with that. So I said I’d drop you off at Ballet Class. Which I absolutely can, of course.’ A pause, and a friendly wickedness lit up his features. ‘Or … we could go dancing with Anna Pavlova?’ And that had been the first time Kate Lethbridge-Stewart had met the Doctor. Now she’d inherited the family firm. Holding the world together with duct tape and the most brilliant people she could find. Just in case, this one time, the Doctor didn’t turn up and do what he did best.

Save. The. World.

DOCTOR: I'm a doctor. But probably not the one you're expecting.

DOCTOR: Charley, C'Rizz, Lucie, Tamsin, Molly. Friends, companions I've known, I salute you. And Cass, I apologise. Physician, heal thyself.

SARAH JANE: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt, but I'm afraid this isn't a social call.

BRIGADIER: I would almost be disappointed if it were. How can I help you?

SARAH JANE: I need to break into the Black Archive.

BRIGADIER: Oh.

POLICEMAN: Sir, ma'am, go back to your vehicle.

GRACE: What? Stop! He's er, he's British.

DOCTOR: Yes, I suppose I am. Jelly baby, officer?

POLICEMAN: Jelly baby?

GRACE: Just take it.

(The policeman takes a sweet and sniffs it while the Doctor makes lip-smacking noises. When he bites into it, the Doctor takes his gun and points it at his own chest.)

DOCTOR: Now, would you stand aside before I shoot myself.

BRIGADIER: Oh, I know how many beans make five, Doctor, and you don't have to be a Time Lord to cope with A level maths. It may come as a surprise to you, but I also happen to like teaching.

BRIGADIER: Yes. You know, just once I'd like to meet an alien menace that wasn't immune to bullets.

SARAH: Please, don't die.

DOCTOR: A tear, Sarah Jane? No, don't cry. While there's life there's…

(The Doctor stops in preparation of his imminent regeneration)

DOCTOR: Well, Sergeant, aren't you going to say it that it's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Everybody else does.

BENTON: It's pretty obvious, isn't it? Anyway, nothing to do with you surprises me anymore, Doctor.

DOCTOR: Oh, thank you for the compliment.

SECOND DOCTOR: If only I could find my recorder, I could play you a little something to pass the time.

BRIGADIER: We must be thankful for small mercies.

DOCTOR: I always find that violent exercise makes me hungry. Don't you agree?

DOCTOR: You know, one thing you can be certain of with politicians, is that whatever their political ideas, they always keep a well-stocked larder.

BRIGADIER: What the blazes is that? Some kind of ornament?

YATES: Not exactly, sir. Watch.

(Yates throws a rock at Bok, who zaps it into atoms.)

BRIGADIER: Yes, I see what you mean. Never mind, we'll soon fix him. Jenkins!

JENKINS: Sir.

BRIGADIER: Chap with the wings there. Five rounds rapid.

(No effect, of course.)

YATES: Fancy a dance, Brigadier?

BRIGADIER: It's kind of you, Captain Yates. I think I'd rather have a pint.

(The telephone has woken the Brigadier, who is still in bed.)

BRIGADIER: The Doctor's gone? Gone where? Well, you should know, Corporal. I want to talk to him. What? Oh, all right then, wake up Miss Grant. I see. And I suppose she didn't leave a number either? I suppose it wouldn't do any good to ask for Captain Yates or Sergeant Benton? My helicopter? Where to? Devil's End. Yes, yes, I see. Get my car here right away. Yes, and if they do contact you, tell them to stay put.

BRIGADIER: Now I'm not going to sit here like a spare lemon waiting for the squeezer.

DOCTOR: No, man, no. You're trying to channel the entire output of the National Power Complex through one transistor. Reverse it.

OSGOOD: Reverse what?

DOCTOR: Reverse the polarity.

DOCTOR: (drawing a diagram) ...And it comes out here. Right?

OSGOOD: Right. I think.

DOCTOR: Good grief, man, it's as simple as Einstein's special theory of relativity!

BRIGADIER: We'll manage, Doctor.

DOCTOR: Good. When you get that thing finished, bring it through the barrier and down to the village at once, all right? (He drives off.)

BRIGADIER: You know, Sergeant, I sometimes wish I worked in a bank.

JO: I don't believe it! It's bigger inside than out.

DOCTOR: Yes. That's because the TARDIS is dimensionally transcendental.

JO: What does that mean?

DOCTOR: It means that it's bigger inside than out.

DOCTOR: Do you know, Jo, I sometimes think that military intelligence is a contradiction in terms.

BRIGADIER: Nonsense. What you need, Doctor, as Miss Shaw herself so often remarked, is someone to pass you your test tubes and to tell you how brilliant you are. Miss Grant will fulfil that function admirably.

DOCTOR: You, Sir, are a NITWIT!

(Liz dematerialises.)

DOCTOR: Liz! Good grief!

LIZ: Yes, well, he wants us to join him. 'Miss Shaw and the Doctor will report themselves forthwith to Wenley Moor. Attend a briefing meeting at precisely-'

DOCTOR: My dear Miss Shaw, I never report myself anywhere. Particularly not forthwith.