(prompt 'obstreperous'... a double-drabble this time.)

Pot and Kettle

. . .

The Doctor glared from his now thrice-interrupted work. "Brigadier, I've had quite enough of your obstreperous demands!"


"Yes, obstreperous!"

"Doctor, there are many things men call me, some more complimentary than others, but obstreperous is not one of them."

"You admit you're obstinate."

"Very well. But I'm only obstinate to good purpose, and even then I strive to carry it out decently and in good order. If anything, I would say if anyone present were to be called obstreperous, it would be you."

The Doctor drew himself up in disbelief. "Me? In what possible way can you accuse me of such behaviour? Why, I've never been obstreperous in my life. Any of them. I always..." He paused mid-bluster to look around. "Whatever is causing that outlandish noise?"

The Brigadier folded his hands behind him and rocked on his heels. "Sergeant Benton!"

A sheepish looking head emerged from around the side of the doorway. "Sir."

"Stifle yourself."

"Yessir. What about Miss Grant?" This set off another round of muffled giggles and snorts from the hall.

"I'll leave the composure of Miss Grant to the Doctor. We'll trust he won't be too obstreperous about it."