The Present Day

Somewhere, on some distant planet, it was morning. But then again, it was always morning when the blue box floated in the center of the Milky Way Galaxy. Sunlight trickled in through the roof.

And she couldn't see it. She couldn't feel it. But the Doctor was compelled by something inside him to "wake" what was left of Michelle Reynolds, and to have the dawn greet her essence.

"Welcome to the new day, friend." On the viewscreen of the TARDIS's control panel, a face appeared. It was nothing special, a plump, pale-skinned girl with choppy curls of blonde hair and green eyes. She remained stonyfaced.

The Doctor had never been one specifically to care about looks. It was more about the personality. That was gone now...mostly. She could not answer him back. He could only bring her to life so much, and only in certain ways. Now, he needed to fulfill a promise.

He flicked the sonic screwdriver through a database of millions of songs and was stuck on which one to choose, when suddenly a voice called to him, "Doctor?" Startled, he dropped the screwdriver and glanced at the screen.

"No...it can't be. You're not in there...are you?" The two hearts beat wildly in his chest. The eyes on the screen were shining and hopeful.

"Will you dance with me, Doctor?"

Hope flooded through him. "Oh, you stylish thing, you! 'Cor, I haven't had a decent conversation in weeks!"

"Will you dance with me, Doctor?"

"Patience, Michelle, there'll be time for Charleston contests later. Right now we have to get you out of there..." He began to shuffle the controls.

"Will you dance with me, Doctor?"

The Doctor froze. All hope or belief that had been within him sunk. Michelle's brain pattern was literally in the computer, the TARDIS being one giant neural net for what was left of her mind, as there was absolutely no body left to sustain it. At least, not anymore. Not after she had thrown herself onto the energy discharge to save him.

In life, it would have been as if Michelle lay in a hospital bed, a vegetable unable to speak or breathe on her own. However, her brain had fused with the linkage of the TARDIS computer. This situation was similar to that of the Data Ghosts encountered in the "biggest library in the universe," but this would not be a short-lived consciousness. The Doctor would have to provide the stimulation for her, as no CAL existed within the TARDIS to make a simulated life for Michelle Reynolds. She could only be activated when and if he chose.

The Doctor quietly lifted the screwdriver off the ground, and clicked it against his teeth. "Merely an echo, of course," he mumbled to himself. "You can't talk to or dance with an echo." He began the database review again.

Examining the music list, he said, "I know you loved it, Michelle, but I can't have anything so synthetic and raucous at the moment. We'll slow things down a bit. And...I will do my best to make sure you are comfortable. Keep my promise."

Under the letter F, he had located the eclectic band Fleetwood Mac. "What about 'Gypsy'? Ah yes, that is certainly a old chestnut." He smiled in spite of himself, and with the screwdriver, dragged the tiny image of the brain in the left hand corner until it had merged with the title of the song.

And so the video began, of Stevie Nicks dancing before a mirror, with Lindsey Buckingham at an elegant 1930's nightclub, in a mystical forest, and wrapped in a shawl as she strode down a street of the Great Depression. But it was Michelle's face instead, and he was in place of Lindsey Buckingham.

So I'm back to the velvet underground

Back to the floor
that I love.
To a room with some lace and paper flowers

Back to the gypsy that I was
to the gypsy that I was.
And it all comes down to you
well
you know that it does.
Well
lightning strikes
maybe once
maybe twice -
Ah
and it lights up the night
and you see your gypsy

You see your gypsy.
To the gypsy that remains faces freedom with a little fear.
I have no fear
I have only love.
And if I was a child and the child was enough

Enough for me to love
enough to love.
She is dancing away from me now
she was just a wish

She was just a wish and a memory is all that is left for you now.
You see your gypsy
oh
you see your gypsy.
Lightning strikes
maybe once
maybe twice
And it all comes down to you.
Lightning strikes
maybe once,maybe twice . . .

When it was over, the Doctor managed, "You wanted to avoid clichés, I know, but I thought it was fitting." And in spite of himself, tears sprang to his eyes. "I wish you hadn't...I can't..." Remembering what she had to him about herself earlier, "No one cries for me. If they do, they ought to be slapped..." But he was weeping now, and she wasn't there to chastise him, so he let the tears fall. Racked with sobs over companions lost and now the latest, Michelle, he was half bent over the console until the controls were awash with saline.

After a minute or two, he mentally steeled himself and tried to remain firm. This was not an existence for her. Though it was what she wanted, and the little brain pattern on the screen showed endorphins were firing at a high rate, indicating happiness, it wasn't true happiness. It would be better to just put her onto a hard disk somewhere, where he wouldn't have to face her.

He slowly reached within a panel on the wall to twist some wires, and then remembered something. River Song's sonic screwdriver from the future. What if he could modify his to be like the one she carried, which had held a Lux Industries' communication device, and then get it to interface with the TARDIS? It wouldn't bring the simulated life, like the CAL computer, but it could bring consciousness!

Inside, his morality fought him. It's not right. You can't bring someone to life just because you're lonely. It would be no existence, she could never leave the computer, and how would she understand? But she was here for a reason, she never accomplished her goal, and it's my fault...

The Doctor knew that sooner or later, he would have to make a decision.