I've always been a Star Trek: The Next Generation 
type of girl. During a convention, I went up to Wil Wheaton and confessed my t'ween love for him.
He probably heard it often as he asked me, "You don't love me now?" Of course, my hormones had settled by then, though I said that I did. Love him, that is. I really didn't know what else to say. I guess, "Um, kinda not, but can you autograph my sketchbook anyway?"
A last weekend, I caught a marathon on BBC America showing the first (new) series of Doctor Who and fell in love again with sci-fi tv. I had never seen the earlier episodes. Not even the longest running Fourth Doctor. Sure, I dabbled in a few other shows, namely Stargate SG-1 and Lost, but really I haven't been THIS obsessed since Picard said, "Make it so."
But there is something just fun about Doctor Who. The Ninth Doctor (and first of the new series) is dark, yet oddly sweet sometimes. Like a great dark chocolate. I'd totally jump into the TARDIS with him. He's that older guy who kinda piques your interest because he's just soooo mysterious and has that smile.
