Chapter Text
UNIT has changed a lot since she started working here. Almost as much as Jo herself has, in fact, but she can't help thinking a little wryly (she's far too polite to ever say it out loud) that their options must be stretched rather thinner than they were in the seventies if this is their new scientific advisor. And even thinner than that if they'd called her in to help show him the ropes.
Malcolm Taylor is the kind of man who builds time machines in his parents' cellar. He's very excitable, very Welsh, and far more thrilled to see Jo than she supposes he has any reason to be.
'Do you mean to say,' he's got on goggles that make his eyes look like frog eyes, and he's surrounded by a tangle of wires and gadgetry, on top of which lies a familiar, official-looking file, a picture of herself at twenty years old sticking out the side. 'Do you mean to say, you're the Josephine Grant?'
Malcolm shoves his goggles up his forehead, and Jo kindly stifles a laugh. 'Unless there's another one I haven't heard of. A pleasure to meet you.'
She offers a hand, but he's too dumbstruck to take it, gaping delightedly down at her. 'The Jo Grant who worked with the Doctor in the 70's? Defeated the Master, Autons, Axons, Eocenes, the Keller mind parasite-'
He seems quite prepared to rattle off an alphabetical list of every alien she encountered during her first time here, and this time, Jo does laugh, shaking her head with a little smile. She finds that she's blushing, ever so slightly. 'Yes, that's me.'
'I could kiss you!'
And he does.