The Brigadier gave it away at UNIT's special Christmas party for those who'd had to put up with the Doctor when he made a passing reference to the 'angels' in Sarah Jane's hearing.
Now, Sarah Jane had become a reporter at least partly because it gave her a socially acceptable outlet for her relentless curiousity, and finding out what the Brigadier meant by 'the angels' was not at all difficult in comparison to, for example, finding out why the Doctor had chosen to dissect a particular bit of the TARDIS at the moment that he needed it most. The Brigadier proved impossible to crack, but no one had warned Harry of impending Sarah Jane.
"You've never seen Charlie's Angels?" he'd asked, innocently.
"What," said Liz.
"They call us what?" Jo half-shrieked.
Liz said again, emphatically, "What."
"The Doctor's Angels," Sarah Jane said. She leaned forward and took a healthy swig of whatever alcoholic beverage was currently making the rounds, then passed it to Jo. "I'm half inclined to go throw things at people, except I think it would be counterproductive."
"I," Liz said, quite clearly, "am not the Doctor's angel. Good Lord, that's why I quit to begin with."
Sarah Jane muttered something that sounded distinctly like "at least you quit," but the other two had the grace not to notice it.
"I'm nobody's angel," Jo said instead, annoyed, shaking the bottle for emphasis. "Not even Cliff's and well he knows it."
"Good on you," Liz said. She leaned back and scowled across the room at the small knot of UNIT officers. "This is the Doctor's fault. I'm sure of it."
Sarah Jane shrugged. "Oh, probably. Not our Doctor, he wasn't the type, but the one after him, oh, I'm sure it was his fault. He'd think it was funny. Brat."
The other two nodded, solemnly, and Jo sighed.
There was a long pause, in which the alcohol made its way around again, and then Liz said, "Well, anyway, I'm not wearing any one-piece jumpsuits."
"Share those marvellous boots of yours," Jo said, "and it's a deal."
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