Dear Doctor: A Love Poem to David Tennant

Dear Doctor,

You had me at, "I'm not a ginger." When you open that blue door, my heart beats louder than the two of yours combined, because I have a problem that only a doctor can solve. Do you have a helping hand to spare?

My problem is that I'm in love with a ten.


You talk about time and space collapsing on each other, but that worried look on your face only says, "Darling, Rose was nothing. It's you I want to save the world for."


Still, at the mention of other companions, all I think is, "exterminate, exterminate exterminate."

Don't get me wrong; your eleventh incarnation had great hair, and charm that could silence the Silence. That twinkle in his eye reflects angels, and it makes me weep, it's so beautiful. Sure, Eleven plays football and is great with kids, but only a very rare woman could love a god who insists on the face of a 12-year-old.

Consider me pinned by your stripes because, sweetie, you're a dime. I choose a long coat over bow ties, because it's chilly in space. In fact, it's cold as hell, but your sideburns burn right through my soul. Not to mention, I have a thing for no guns because skinny guys are my type.


You think you are so powerful, but I am the omnipotent being able to warp reality, time and space, because I have something even Bad Wolf doesn't:

A Netflix account.

I looked into my screen, and my screen looked into me. I can see the whole of Series 2-4, and the episodes are tiny. Every single second of your existence, and I rewind them. And watch them over and over.

I'm not needy or a girl who waits. I'm not impossible and I know where I am. I exist in the interwebs, and I find you when I want. I can see everything. All that is, and all that was. All that ever could be. So maybe you should start calling me "The Master," because I open episodes in many tabs, and duplicate you.

It's time to step into my time stream, sweetie, and change the fabric of time and space. Just this once, it will feel so right. And no, I don't just want a screw... driver (though, let's get real, I'd settle for that too). I want all of your wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey... stuff.

Why? Because you inspire me to be a better person, and you taught me to never give up. To not just let things happen, and to make a stand. To say no! To have the guts to do what's right, even when everyone else just runs away.


Have the guts to not run away... from me, no matter how scared you are (of how creepy I am). Say "no!" to Elizabeth, River and Rose, and yes to me. It's now or never, because no second chances. I'm that kind of woman.

I could bring down your hearts with a single word. No, you're right. Not a single word; just six words. Six.

Will you marry me David Tennant?

I don't even need a ring, just a machine that goes "ding."

You''ve been married before, but our union would be an upgrade. The Ood would sing our praises as The Face of Boe pronounced us Time Lord and wife. We'd honeymoon on the planet Midnight, and tour the cosmos in search of the best anti-gravity restaurant around.

Number ten, be my number one.

You're never too far from a phone, so when you are ready to accept your inevitable fate (because our meeting is a fixed point in time), give me a call and I'll be there faster than you can say Allons-y.


Anonymous because spoilers

p.s. Resistance is futile.