Since your fight with the Master, you’ve prohibited her from drinking your blood, instead subjecting her to drinking from the emergency blood bags around the TARDIS, or not-so-innocent beings you two come across during your travels. But you know she’s getting antsy.

You’re sitting in one of the jump seats in the console room when she comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and brushes her fangs against your neck.

“Just a bite, darling, please? I won’t take too much, I promise! I haven’t tasted you in weeks..”