So I was rewatching Doctor Who, and I watched "The Christmas Invasion" (one of my all-time favorite episodes), and then I basically went on a rant on the Camp NaNoWriMo chatroom. This is a slightly edited, elongated version of that rant. Apologies for excessive analysis and run-on sentences.
Mickey Smith. Mickey, good old Mickey, faithful, reliable, steady as a rock, watches helplessly as Rose wanders farther and father away from him. She has seen things and people that he can never, will never, imagine, and each time she visits, his heart breaks a little, doesn't it? Because this Rose, the one that stands up to an army of Sycorax, the one talking back to a Dalek's "Exterminate!", the one holding the Doctor's hand and positively glowing with happiness? It's not his Rose, not the Rose he fell in love with. She is so much more, but she is not his anymore, and that breaks Mickey's heart.
Mickey watches as Rose and the Doctor fall head over heels for each other. He stands by as they gallivant across the galaxy, hand in hand, making memories and chasing trouble. He understands-- and this, this is important-- Mickey understands that what Rose Tyler needs is something that he can't give her. But the Doctor can, you see, and it's oh so obvious that the two were made for each other. So Mickey Smith steps aside and lets the Doctor and Rose tumble through their epic romance. And the best part? He's not bitter, or petty about it. Not overly so, anyway. He will still always be there for Rose and the Doctor, but as a friend. Always a friend.
Here is what I love about Mickey: he moves on. He accepts the challenges life throws in his path, and he moves on. Alternate universe? Fine, I'm staying, I have a duty to this world. Rose Tyler madly in love with a time-traveling alien? Let her be happy. Mickey moves on from what he cannot change; he goes freelance and marries Martha Jones. (By the way: that was an amazing cameo.)
So yeah. Mickey Smith, everyone.
~Willow
P.S. Ten was the best. No question.
Mickey Smith. Mickey, good old Mickey, faithful, reliable, steady as a rock, watches helplessly as Rose wanders farther and father away from him. She has seen things and people that he can never, will never, imagine, and each time she visits, his heart breaks a little, doesn't it? Because this Rose, the one that stands up to an army of Sycorax, the one talking back to a Dalek's "Exterminate!", the one holding the Doctor's hand and positively glowing with happiness? It's not his Rose, not the Rose he fell in love with. She is so much more, but she is not his anymore, and that breaks Mickey's heart.
Mickey watches as Rose and the Doctor fall head over heels for each other. He stands by as they gallivant across the galaxy, hand in hand, making memories and chasing trouble. He understands-- and this, this is important-- Mickey understands that what Rose Tyler needs is something that he can't give her. But the Doctor can, you see, and it's oh so obvious that the two were made for each other. So Mickey Smith steps aside and lets the Doctor and Rose tumble through their epic romance. And the best part? He's not bitter, or petty about it. Not overly so, anyway. He will still always be there for Rose and the Doctor, but as a friend. Always a friend.
Here is what I love about Mickey: he moves on. He accepts the challenges life throws in his path, and he moves on. Alternate universe? Fine, I'm staying, I have a duty to this world. Rose Tyler madly in love with a time-traveling alien? Let her be happy. Mickey moves on from what he cannot change; he goes freelance and marries Martha Jones. (By the way: that was an amazing cameo.)
So yeah. Mickey Smith, everyone.
~Willow
P.S. Ten was the best. No question.
