How long?
Up and down stairs, in and out the door dragging bags of mail, around the kitchen with a feather duster and (once or twice) into a wall. Derpy's trajectory pre-breakfast on a working morning was as muddled as Dinky's was simple. Dinky yawned and smacked her lips, walked to the kitchen and then poured out milk and apple juice in two smooth movements. She was proud of being top of her basic magic class for dexterity, but that was what came of being the only unicorn in her house.
That was the division of labour on school mornings in the Hooves and Doo household: Derpy got to fly around organising things, and Dinky did breakfast. She got up extra early every morning to do it so that they could eat together before Derpy went off on her mail round.
Finally Derpy fluttered into the kitchen, gave Dinky her warm good morning smile and sat down to eat. They always ate in silence at first because neither of them functioned well on an empty stomach.
"It's my magic test today," Dinky said after a while.
Derpy fluttered her wings in acknowledgement; her mouth was full.
"Good-"
She stopped suddenly and one ear swiveled to the left.
"Mom?"
Derpy carried on listening to the air and then jumped up, startled. She raced out of the door, stammering "G-good luck!" as she crossed the threshold and tripped over a mailbag. She had already spread her wings and zoomed down the street by the time the letters had finished tumbling over the lawn. Dinky stood in the front doorway and watched where she had been. Then a creaking, groaning noise started in the distance and she ran after her mother.
Derpy was already in front of the TARDIS, chest heaving and jaw slack by the time the Doctor came out. He took one look at the shock on his old companion's face and hung his head.
"That's not a mistake on the date dial, is it?" he said.
"Nine years, three months and 17 hours," Derpy blurted out. "Whatever it says, it's probably not a mistake."
"Derpy... I'm so sorry."
There was a long pause while Derpy kicked up a cloud of dust with one nervous hoof. She examined the floor.
"It's ok."
The Doctor didn't get a chance to press the issue as Dinky came skittering up the road.
"What happened, mom?" she asked but the Doctor noticed that her eyes, which had first intended to only spare the blue box parked in the street with a glance, had deepened with curiosity and were now positively glued to it. Then her gaze shifted to the Doctor.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the Doctor," he replied cordially, then looking at Derpy, "er, mum?"
Dinky looked vaguely unimpressed at the Doctor's introduction.
"The Doctor?"
"Yes, that's me, hello. Mum?"
"It's been nine years!" Derpy retorted indignantly.
The Doctor slowly looked around to the lilac filly at his side. The product of nine years was glaring at him.
"There are lot's of doctors in this town. Why are you the doctor?"
"I don't- I just am!"
Derpy giggled in spite of herself.
"Dinky, you should get to school."
"School's not for hours," she maintained stubbornly. "Are you going to come and eat breakfast with me? If not, I'm not leaving."
The Doctor's ears pricked up. Derpy felt her skin prickle and her muscles tense up. She had forgotten his tendency to do that unexpectedly, and invariably with results both exciting and terrifying. But all he said was,
"Did she say breakfast?"
Derpy sighed. It was hard enough to get her thoughts into intelligible sentences in normal situations and now she was going to negotiate an emotional minefield at the breakfast table with the Doctor and Dinky.
Some days really crept up on you.