Dear Christopher Eccleston,

My dear, dear Christopher Eccleston.

You know I love you, right?

I turned down a hot date tonight to stay at home and watch you battle the Daleks. Hot dates don't come my way very often, Chris - you don't mind if I call you Chris, do you, Chris? - so I'm sure you can understand the sacrifice I've made.

We've been together for awhile now. It's been a very pleasant Saturday night ritual, sitting down in my favourite green chair, with a cup of tea, waiting for you with my tongue hanging out of my mouth. I'm sorry it's over. I don't know what I'll do with my Saturday nights now, Chris.

I never thought it would be like this in the beginning - this dizzying whirl of a love affair. I only flicked the tube on that first Saturday night, the second week you graced our screens, because it was that or study. Tough call, Chris, isn't it? It was only meant to be an idle distraction, but the moment you opened your mouth, I was gone. That rapier wit, that thick accent. Do you do it on purpose?

As the weeks went by, it only got worse. There were lines that seemed directed only at me. "Dinner and bondage, Doctor?" Please, Chris, don't do it. She's a Slitheeen - and you already know she's a Slitheen! That's not what you like, Chris, is it? Because I'll go out for dinner and bondage - just ask me. (But maybe we could have dinner first, then bondage? I'm concerned that the ropes might interfere with your ability to eat. And food gets so messy on the sheets.)

I only missed one episode - half of one episode, to be more precise. It was the night Harry Potter came out - you're nodding along with me, Chris, aren't you? I knew you'd understand. It had been killing me all day. What a dilemma. Doctor Who, or The Boy Who Lived? In the end, I watched the first half of what turned out to be a very quiet episode of Doctor Who, and then took Harry Potter to bed. I was sorry the next week, though, when I switched on the tube and saw you scolding those freaky kids. That was hot, Chris, really hot. You could send me to my room if you like, Chris. I've put Harry Potter back on the shelf. I could be a very naughty girl. I could even get a gas mask if that's what you like, Chris. Just let me know.

Our last time together ended on a sour note, and it was my fault. I'm sorry I shook my fist at you when you kissed Rose, and said something derogatory about how the chemistry between you and Captain Jack was far, far more convincing than this vague attempt at straight love with Rose could ever be. What can I say? I love the homoerotic subtext. (The hints of incestuous goings-on were sort of cool, too.) Rose doesn't need a doctor, Chris. I need a Doctor. I'm not kidding about the dinner and bondage, Chris. Really I'm not.

I'm also sorry that I was in two minds about the extermination of the Daleks. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't comprehend the threat the Daleks pose to civilisation - but there's something that's just so right about their program of exterrrrrrminating The Weakest Link contestants. They play the game like it's played in my head. And, I'm sure, in yours. You just strike me as that kind of person, Chris.

If it helps, though, your replacement is worse than I could ever have imagined he would be. I suppose the only consolation is that Billie Piper is leaving too, so I'm not going to have to suffer through any more of that "tense" relationship.

Just answer me this, Chris - and I know you've probably got non-disclosure agreements up to your deliciously mobile eyebrows, so I'll settle for whatever vague hint you're able to give me - is there any hope at all for further gay adventuring with Captain Jack? I wish it were with you, Chris, but if I have to take it with your boring replacement, I will.

I'd say that I'll always remember you fondly, Chris, but that would be an outright lie. Instead, I remain,

Yours in desperate lust,
Beck


PS - The fact that the BBC can now afford to employ Matrix-style bullet-time effects? Is a really good example of Why The Second Two Matrix Movies Weren't Much Fun. Just my opinion, of course, but if you know the Wachowski Bros, pass it on: I really, really needed the special effects to distract me from the movie itself. Oh, and also? Can the straight love. I'm begging you.