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Writer's pictureKatherine Wheeler

Not the Tin Dog

A short story written for #MySarahJane.


Mickey Smith pulls up at 13 Bannerman Road half expecting to see a tall man and a blue box. Instead, when the door opens, he is greeted with a warm smile and a tight hug.


“Mickey Smith,” Sarah beams, “Come in. I’ve put the kettle on.”


It’s been a while since the two of them caught up like this. The last time had been a few months ago after August, his and Martha’s son, was born. Between baby duties and work, Mickey barely had enough time to feed himself but Sarah had been there every step of the way. Mr Smith had been great too, booking the baby into regular appointments to check its levels of vortex radiation.


“How’s everything going, with Luke?” asks Mickey.


“Top of his year, they’re thinking about moving him up. Made some good friends too.”


“He’s a smart kid,” Says Mickey. “Physics, yeah?”


Sarah nods. “He says he wants to be a teacher. Out of everything, all of time and space and he wants to help other people. We have the most extraordinary people around us, Mickey.”


He takes a sip of the tea. Milk, two sugars. Just how he likes it. “Yeah, we do.”


“I thought of going away somewhere. No-one left here for me to look after.” A mournful look flashes across Sarah’s face. “The Bahamas. Something-” She waves her arms around, “-crazy. I don’t know. It’s not Karn or Zeta-Minor but it’s somewhere new. Some time away.”


“I’ll take care of K9.” Mickey offers.


“Oh no. He’s coming with me! K9 is very good at spotting when something’s wrong; you never know when you’re going to need him.” She grins. “Isn’t that right K9?


“Affirmative!” Says a voice from upstairs.


“Me and Martha are staying put for a few years. Finally got a mortgage. Time travel n’ that, you’d think it’d be easy to get a house.” Mickey snorts. “UNIT wanted us to stay part-time so now we only stop every other alien invasion.”


“The Brig used to dream about part-time,” Sarah chuckles.


It doesn’t take long for the two of them to drain their tea. Within minutes, the kettle is boiling again and there is a packet of chocolate Hobnobs on the table.


“I thought Pompeii would be nice. Not as good with the barriers and the tourists but-”


“Didn’t the Doctor promise to take you there?” Mickey recalls from one of their previous catch-ups.


“Oh!” Sarah laughs. “Yes I suppose he did. The Doctor doesn’t show up these days. It doesn’t matter.”


“After everything that happened, you don’t think about him?” He asks.


Sarah smiles. “The Doctor is wonderful. And when she visits I’ll be ready but… no. I have other people to look after now.” She takes a sip of the tea, “You’re fantastic, Mickey. The Doctor didn’t realise at first but just look how far you’ve come without them.”


“It’s so hard not to, y’know-” Mickey gestures at the air. “I mean, he didn’t even want me there, not ‘til right at the very end. I’ve seen whole other universes and I don’t even know if he even respects me.”


The woman across from him is silent for a moment, eyes soft with thought.


“The Doctor, my Doctor, never thought before he spoke. You’d be in chains before some evil mastermind and he’d make some remark about their trousers not fitting. I think he realised people took it to heart,” Sarah sighs, “What I’m trying to say is, he learnt that other people cared. Good people. He never thought that about you, he was just trying to be clever.


Mickey looks into his tea. A ripple is passing across the surface.


“What if it’s not enough, Sarah? I got someone to be there for now. I got people to care for. I was the tin dog. I ain’t the same but it made me think. I think about it all the time.”


“Mickey Smith,” Says Sarah, “You defeated the Daleks, you’ve saved the Universe countless times, you’re one of the most wonderful men I’ve ever met. You’re a caring husband and a loving, selfless father.”


Mickey looks up from his half-eaten biscuit and meets her eyes.


“I guess I am.”


“I know you are. You’re much more valued than you realise. Worrying about what the Doctor thinks isn’t your job. They might be thousands of years old but they’ve got a very large ego.” She takes a Hobnob from the packet. “Now, come on Mickey. We’ve got loads more to talk about. How are you doing?”


For the first time in months, Mickey feels his shoulders relax. Like some weight he hasn’t felt before has suddenly lifted. It feels good. He smiles, “I’m surviving.”


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