A/N: Well, this story started as kind of an homage to the obbsessiveness I put in my note books. With every new notebook, I open it to a random page and write (in cursive) The Doctor is Coming The Master is Back. I can't imagine why. Please enjoy and R&R~~~~3

A young woman lounged on her couch, a bowl of popcorn resting on her lap. It was Saturday night, and the newest episode of her favorite show aired at nine on BBC America.

"Skylar?" a voice called from the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"Is the oh-so-handsome David Tennant gracing our presence yet?" It was her roommate, Laura, making nachos for the newest episode of series four. They were recording it on their DVR, of course, but everyone would be talking about it the next day. There was a knock at the door, which was weird considering the time. She looked through the peephole, seeing an old man. Hesitating slightly, Skylar opened the door.

"Yes?"

"I was told to deliver this letter to Skylar."

"That's me." She took the forest green paper and the old man left. Skylar tossed the letter on her coffee table and tied her shadow black hair back with a hair tie. Her green eyes bored a hole into the paper. "Do you know of anyone who would want to kill me?" Laura laughed loudly, the sound carrying from the kitchen.

"Of course not!" Finding that safe, she broke the gold seal on the letter, taking a deep breath before opening it. The Doctor is Coming was written in languid calligraphy.

"No way," Skylar said, mimicking The Doctor perfectly. She tore it in half. "He's a show. Fictional." Gathering the pieces, she ran into the kitchen and threw the paper away.

"What was that?"

"Some stupid prank." The two girls walked into the living room, piling on the couch and instantly becoming entranced with the stunning performances of David Tennant and Catherine Tate. It was an episode about a planet called Midnight where The Doctor gets stuck on transport. It was confusing at first, but extremely silly and serious. It was over too soon, and they found the bowls completely empty. Skylar went to the DVR recording and whipped out her phone, turning the volume on the TV up so she could get a clear recording of The Doctor running his mouth with Skye. Afterwards, the two cleaned up and talked about the episode a little bit before going to bed.

Skylar lay under her covers, staring at her life-sized Doctor cut out. "I don't know what'll happen," she whispered. "It has to be a prank. There's no way it couldn't have been. You're fictional and I'm talking to a cardboard cut-out." Skylar laughed quietly, rolling over on her back. She quickly fell asleep, finding herself in dreams of Time Lords and TARDISes. She woke up at ten the next morning, stretching languidly. Skylar rolled out of bed slowly, walking into the kitchen. Laura wasn't up yet, which was understandable. She usually didn't rise before 10:30 or 11:00. Skylar made banana pancakes, putting the leftovers in the oven for Laura. After, she undressed and stepped into the shower. Skylar relaxed almost immediately, letting the extremely hot water wash over her. She still puzzled over the letter as she dried off with a fluffy towel. Skylar dressed in some jean shorts, a Doctor Who shirt, and red Converse. She looked down at herself. "I am a nerd. Like, seriously. I need to find a new obsession," she lamented whilst walking into the kitchen for some coffee. "What about Batman?"

"Still nerdy," Laura responded. "Thanks for the pancakes, Sky. Although you made too many. We'll have extras for days." Skylar laughed.

"You know Ryan." It was Laura's turn to laugh. "I'm going to go walk Mrs. Wilson's dog."

"Okay," Laura said with a mouthful of pancakes.

Skylar walked downstairs and slid a key into the lock. Surprisingly, it was open. Her breath caught, and she slid into the apartment, finding herself in a typical old lady house. Pictures of everyone and everybody lined the walls. She grabbed half a walker, holding it like a bat. She stalked to the living room, nearly being tackled to the floor.

"Ajax!" Skylar shouted happily, assuming the danger to be over. She dropped the walked to hold the gigantic Great Pyrenees up. "How are you, boy? I thought it was weird because the door was unlocked."

"That would be me, sorry." A familiar voice floated to her ears.

"No way. You are kidding me." She looked up at a man who towered over her. He had a brown faux-hawk with sideburns. Skylar's breath was immediately stolen. "No way!" She touched his cheek gently. "Doctor?"

"What? What?" Skylar had to reign in an urge to tackle him to the ground. "How do you know my name? Why do you have my face on your shirt?"

"I can explain… umm… who was your last companion?" The Doctor looked terribly sad for a second.

"Astrid."

"Awwes, I liked her." The man's face contorted in confusion.

"How do you know so much?"

"Come on, I have to walk her. I will explain everything." With nothing else to do, he complied.

They walked with Ajax in front of them. "Okay, listen. My name is Skylar."

"Hi Skylar, I'm the Doctor." She interrupted him before he could go any farther.

"From Gallifrey. You're about 905 in your Tenth Regeneration. You have a beautiful TARDIS that I am very jealous of. Her Chameleon Circuit was stuck and so now she's a 1950s Police Call Box. I know all of this because of a show called Doctor Who. I guess its your life since you traveled with Ian, Barbara, and your Grandaughter."

"Wow… so you know… everything?"

"Not everything, Theta, but a lot." The Doctor straightened.

"I think I better see this show." Skylar giggled, unable to contain herself. They were nearly back to the apartments.

"I have only three questions, Doctor. One; would you call yourself John Smith so you can avoid rape?" He looked at her, knowing she was strangely serious.

"Yes?"

"Good. How did you get here?"

"TARDIS malfunction."

"Alright. Two more questions. Is she dead?"

"Thankfully no, but she won't move."

"Oh thank you. Last question; do you like banana pancakes?" The Doctor's face lit up like a Christmas tree, and he forgot about the fact she had asked four questions instead of 3.

The two sat on the couch, plates of banana pancakes in their laps. Skylar had put on her DVD of the Ninth Doctor, preferring to start there. Laura walked in at the end of the fourth episode.

"Really Skylar? You're watching Doctor Who with banana pancakes, wearing a Doctor Who shirt, and sitting next to a David Tennant lookalike wearing The Doctor's clothes." The Doctor wriggled his socked toes, looking up at her like a happy puppy. "What's his name?"

"John Smith," Skylar replied.

"Very. Fitting," Laura clipped while walking out the door. "Don't have sex."

"'Kay."

"Your friend is weird."

"I know. I apologize.

They stayed up late into the night and two days past that until they ended with 'Voyage of the Damned.' Skylar slept in little bouts, and The Doctor stayed up the entire time. It was around three in the morning when they finally ended. Amazingly, The Doctor seemed wide awake. Skylar stood and took out the DVD.

"Where's your friend?"

"I don't know. She does this a lot. Anymore of you on TV would be bad." The Doctor nodded. "Good thing you didn't talk. She would've known." She stifled a yawn, slumping onto the couch. He looked excited.

"Could we watch something else?"

"I have Torchwood, which is Jack's team and stuff."

"Okay!"

"There shouldn't be any altering spoilers in that." She put it in, afterwards walking into her bedroom and pulling on a pair of pajama pants with little TARDISes all over them.

"You really like my life, don't you?" Skylar blushed slightly before nodding. "I don't know why." She sat next to him, pressing play on the remote. The Doctor put his feet on the coffee table and sort of lay back comfortably after taking off his coat and tie. After awhile, Skylar began to doze off and she soon rested in The Doctor's arms, his two hearts beating a four count rhythm to help her sleep. He stayed up extremely late until he passed out with Torchwood on screen.

Skylar woke up mid-morning the next day, thankful her work week started on Thursday. Miraculously, she was also fully rested. Forgetting where she was, Skylar snuggled into the warm chest. "Mmm, Doctor," she whispered into his shirt. He smelled beautiful and delicious and everything she ever imagined. All she wanted to do was bury herself in his arms and lose herself. Then, she realized he was awake from the sudden hitch in breath. "Umm, Doctor?"

"Yeah?" he responded quietly. Before she could apologize for smelling him, there was a loud knock on the door. They exchanged glances, and she stood. He watched her figure as she tied up her black hair in a pony tail and opened the front door. It was the old man from Saturday night.

"You!"

"I was told to deliver this letter." She took the other forest-green latter and the old man left. Skylar sat next to The Doctor, and they looked at each other.

"Before we open this, I should tell you that I received another letter from that same man last night."

"Where is it?"

"In the trash, all ripped up." He gave her a heart stopping smile before running to the kitchen, tie in hand. He tied it while sliding across the floor on his socks. "That was brilliant." He gave her another smile before fishing out all of the pieces of paper. The Doctor quickly put them together in the right order.

"The Doctor is Coming."

"That's what it said."

"So you get a letter of my arrival, and yet you wear a shirt with my face on it?"

"I didn't think you were real. I mean, I must be in one of your own parallel universes."

"Makes sense. Knowledge of my must've bled through."

"Yep." She smiled at him, and pulled a glass out of the cabinet. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Just orange juice, thanks."

"You're welcome." He laughed, and grabbed the other letter. Skylar put two glasses down on the table. Slowly, to build suspense, he opened it. She pulled back the flaps and gasped.

In the same calligraphy "The Master is Back" was written across the page.