Mild TCI spoilers in this fic. If you're bothered by that, go back now. There's also some mild swear words in this, along with naughty thoughts, and implied naughtiness. Again, if you're bothered by it, don't read. It's nothing too serious, and much cleaner than we hear on the streets, but there's a warning.

This is dedicated to all the David Tennant fangirls out there. This was written with you in mind, and your love of DT. It's basically what we all think, but (hopefully) through Rose's personality. :D

Reviews are adored, even constructive critism.

(3.05 pm – By the super-phone, anyway)

Dear Diary,

"Has he got two of anything else?"

I really wish that Mum hadn't said that. Back at Christmas, just after he regenerated. And he was tucked up safely at our house. And mum asked if he had two of anything else, apart from hearts. I told her off for it, but it's been plaguing me ever since, like a mosquito or something.

Dammit. I keep trying to keep my mind off it, but it keeps wondering back. Like a couple of days ago (well, I'm just calling it that. It's impossible to keep track of time in the TARDIS. But my super-phone makes it a couple of days Earth time, so lets go by that), we came back from this planet that was basically bog. Everywhere, it was slimy and swampy. Not fun. Especially when the Doctor (or the TARDIS being awkward) landed us right in the middle of one. Stepped out of the TARDIS, and straight into it. The only good thing was that the Doctor went out first and sank in right up to his thighs. Bloody hell.

Anyway, lets get away from the Doctors thighs (crap, mind's being badly behaved again). Anyway, we saved this tribe of aliens from enslavement, they thanked us (of course, this was after running, and not to mention swimming, for our lives several times), and we went straight back to the TARDIS.

Once we were inside, and headed off to who knows where, the Doctor decided to announce that he was taking a shower. And he winked at me God, I wish he wouldn't do that. It makes it really difficult for a girl to concentrate while she's thinking of him in the shower…BUGGER IT.

I can't even keep my mind on track while I write in my diary. Of course, the scene I left in the control room didn't help. I walked out of the kitchen, after getting my cup of tea (after Christmas, I figured that mum was right – tea really did cure everything. So maybe it would cure a horny wandering mind), and into the control room for a chat with the Doctor. And what sight greets me. The Doctor's arse.

I'm going to wait a second, while I try and stop blushing. Dammit.

Okay, I'm back. Anyway, he was bent over part of the control panel, tinkering with some part of the TARDIS. Who knows what. Anyway, imagine this – I'm stood there, cup of tea in one hand, frozen in place. I know, I should have looked away or something. But my eyes were being just as badly behaved as my mind, and wouldn't move. Not that I blame them. God, he's got a nice arse…

Oh fantastic. I'm acting as though my eyes were a separate person to the rest of me. See what the Doctor's arse…what the Doctor does to me?

Anyway, back to why I'm hiding out in my room, writing in my diary. So there I am, watching his arse. I'm so busy both admiring it, and internally yelling at myself for admiring it, that I don't notice the sound of the sonic screwdriver going off. I only realise that he's stopped when he stands up straight and turns around.

He grins at me. God, I hate it when he does that. That grin is just…well, lets just say I defy any girl to see his grin and not melt into a little puddle. It's so smug and kinda sexy. And he knows it, the prat. And worst of all, he knew what I'd been doing – he knew I'd been ogling him. Dammit.

He just looked at me with those big brown eyes of his, that were sort of twinkling. As he opened his mouth to say something, I turned and bolted. I think I even squeed. And I don't think that's even a word. See what he does?

Oh damn. He's just knocked on the door. Better go see what he wants to say. Hopefully he'll have the tact not to mention it. Write once we're done talking.

(5.30 pm – Again by super-phone)

Dear Diary,

I'm just going to put this once for posterity (and so that if when I grow old, I lose my memory, I can look back and read this to remember) –

Hearts are the only thing the Doctor has two of. I know for sure now…