A/N: Doctor Who still not mine but a girl can dream...

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Birds singin' in the sycamore tree…

"I honestly don't know," the stranger replied. A humanoid female.

She looked as human as she did, Amy thought. Or time lord, as the Doctor once told her.

"How can you possibly be here? It is impossible!" the Doctor said, approaching the stranger.

Amy had never seen him so flustered. She, whoever this woman was, obviously wasn't a stranger to him. Who could this person be to make her Doctor look so completely unsure of himself?

"Doctor?" Amy asked, hoping to get an explanation.

Through all the adventures she'd had with him – and there had been epic universe ending and restoring ones -, she'd seen a range of the Doctor's emotion – grief to anger, sadness to joy, doubt to arrogance borne out of knowing that he was The Doctor, but she'd never seen this.

She could not explain this. Simultaneous hope and fear, but much more complex than that.

"It's highly improbable, but not impossible," the woman calmly argued.

There was a twitch on the Doctor's face. Amy interpreted it as an amused smile, like a response to a old shared joke.

"The spores might be acting up again," he mumbled, walking around the woman, scrutinizing her closely. She watched his movements, her face showing a hint of disconcertment but also acceptance, as if she expected this.

"What? Like that time that I was a doctor and Amy was…" Rory made a gesture around his belly. Amy glared at him and he quickly dropped his arms.

"Doctor?" she asked again, watching him reach out a hand to touch the woman but stop shortly before he made contact. His arm dropped and she could see him rubbing his fingers. A habit, she noticed, whenever he was processing something.

"You two, I need you to stand over there," he said, pointing to the farthest spot on the console away from the woman.

There was fear coming through in his voice, which made the two of them nervous.

"Who is she, Doctor?" Amy asked, determined not to move until she had an explanation.

"I said, you two, move over there," the Doctor said more forcefully this time, looking at them.

It was the tone of his voice that made Rory grab Amy's arm and drag her over to the spot the Doctor had indicated.

The Doctor whipped out his sonic screw driver and pointed it at the woman. She looked calm, as of this was routine to her. He read the analysis, frowned and then took a step back to look at her fully.

"You look nothing like you and yet I know it's you. The sonic is saying it's you. I bet if I asked the TARDIS it would recognize you as you. Therefore, it cannot possibly be you."

The woman smiled, "Considering what happened – or is it still about to happen? What time are we in right now? – anyway, I agree. I cannot possibly be here, at this point in your time line. Yet, here I am. And I'd really like an explanation for that."

"So would I," the Doctor said, leaning against the console of the TARDIS. There were about three seconds of silence, while the Doctor looked lost in thought.

"Occam's Razor," he said.

"What does that mean?" Amy asked from the other side of the console.

"Spores," Rory replied.

The Doctor moved to look around the center at the two of them and beamed at Rory, "Excellent deduction, my good man."

"Spores?" the woman asked.

"If it is the spores, why you?" the Doctor asked.

"Spores?" the woman asked again.

The Doctor dismissively waved his hand, "Psychedelic spores, trapped in the TARDIS, inducing a dream state…blah blah blah…Amy loves Rory…I blew up the TARDIS…blah blah blah…"

"He was the Dream Lord," Amy supplied.

"I got killed in one of the dreams," Rory added.

The woman turned to look at the two of them and then back at the Doctor, "Spores."

"Exactly. Spores. Why you? Why now? Why?"

She frowned as if trying to concentrate on something, "I have a feeling I should know, but I don't. More precisely, I don't remember."

"Of course you don't know! You're not real!" the Doctor exclaimed, resuming his pacing around her.

"I feel quite real. In fact, I feel. Which is throwing me off at the moment. I don't remember feeling to be this…overwhelming," the woman said, suddenly looking a bit dizzy. She took a step back, stumbled but the Doctor quickly reacted and caught her. His touch surprised her as much as it did him and she immediately pushed him away, to the effect that both fell backwards. He bumped into the console of the TARDIS. She hit the railings.

Amy and Rory rushed forward. She grabbed the Doctor's arms, while Rory attended to the woman.

"Are you alright?" they both asked simultaneously.

"Yes, yes…nothing broken," the other two replied just as simultaneously.

The four of them looked at each other and then broke out in nervous laughter.

"This has to be a dream," Amy proclaimed, though she wasn't sure why she thought it was. It felt real.

"Yeah," Rory said, but the look on his face told Amy that he was just agreeing with her because he was Rory.

But then she remembered that the other time had felt quite real too.

Then again, she further argued with herself, the situation they were in now, even though she didn't know exactly what the situation was considering she didn't know who the woman was, didn't feel as unusual as all the other quite real situations, so basically, she was just really confused now.

"But what if it's not?" she asked aloud.

"Yeah," Rory said again and this made her glare at him briefly.

"If it's not, then I don't know what this is," the Doctor said.

The woman sighed and looked at the Doctor, "Would it be better if it were a dream?"

The Doctor had folded his arms and was once again leaning against the console, "Possibly."

The woman cocked her head, "Why?"

"Why?" the Doctor exclaimed, straightening a bit.

The woman mimicked his crossed arms, "Yes, why? It is the eternal question, isn't it?"

"Why would it be better if you were a dream? Because then you wouldn't be real," the Doctor said. Amy didn't know why, but she heard a trace of cruelty in his tone.

"And if I'm not real?" the woman asked, her voice soft.

The Doctor looked at her squarely, "Then it wouldn't mean anything."

It was there for just a second, but Amy had seen it - a flicker of hurt in the woman's eyes. She recognized it, had felt it before. All the way back when this adventure had started and she'd asked the Doctor if there was a reason why he'd invited her and he'd said there wasn't one.

The Doctor and the woman were staring at each other now. He broke the eye contact first.

"No, actually it would. It would mean so much more," he mumbled.

Amy looked at Rory, hoping that he had more of a clue of what was going on. But Rory shrugged at her just as lost.

At least he was able to ask her immediate question, "It would?"

The Doctor looked at the two of them, clearly avoiding the woman's eyes, "Yes."

"Why?" the woman asked

He still couldn't look at her, "Why?"

"Yes, why?" She took a step towards him.

He looked at her, "Because then you would come from the bits of me that I hide away, even from myself."

She frowned, "I see."

He shook his head sadly, "I don't think you do."

She shrugged her shoulder, "Well, maybe I do."

He cocked his head, "How?"

"If I am a manifestation of the bits that you hide away from yourself, then I know more than you know. At least I know something that you don't allow yourself to know. And since I am here, and your – what's that psychiatrist's word? – ah yes - subconscious is pushing through to make you aware of the thing you don't want to know, then it must be important."

Amy looked at the Doctor and he seemed to be considering the woman's argument. It did sound vaguely logical to her, but what did she know? She didn't even know who this woman was supposed to be – manifestation or not.

The woman shrugged her shoulder again, "Or you're just simply losing your mind."

This made the Doctor laugh, "Now that's a possibility."

They shared a smile that sparked a thought in Amy's head. But the thought was so mind boggling that she immediately dismissed it as absurd. But was it? It was no less absurd than the situation here.

The woman reached out to touch her own arm and rubbed it, "On the other hand, I could be real. I'm very much convinced that I am. And if I am, then think about what it means. It has to mean something very important, don't you think? I mean, why me? Why now? Why? Or is this one those quirky universe things were it just feels like doing something because it can? Coincidence and all that?"

The woman reached out to touch Rory's arm and then looked at her hand with wonder, "Maybe it would be better if I am just a projection of your subconscious. If I am, I am quite flattered."

She turned to look at the Doctor, waved her hands around her body, "But why this form? Why not my old one? Or is that just too…"

"If I assume you're real and you turn out not to be, what would the consequences be?" the Doctor interrupted her.

"Just proof of my madness? I was always suspect of my sanity, so to have a confirmation one way or the other would be nice. Will it result in total destruction of the universe? Again?"

The Doctor began to pace in front of the group.

"Obviously, I hope not, but what if the universe was supposed to end? I wonder sometimes. Even this fools journey has to end, so why not with a big bang? Hold on, did that already. Or something like it."

The Doctor stopped pacing and looked at the three of them, "I'm kind of fond of existing but maybe that's just because I'm a stubborn fool."

The woman smiled fondly, "You are stubborn and a fool but also a hopeless romantic. That is why you haven't given up on the universe yet. I know it has given you enough reasons to."

The Doctor pointed at himself, looking incredulous, "Hopeless romantic? Me?"

Amy rolled her eyes, "You are, Doctor. No sense in denying it."

He looked equal parts flattered and insulted, "Well, I…hmmm…"

Amy and the woman shared a smile, the kind that most sentient females of the species did when dealing with the male of the species.

The Doctor recovered, "Anyway, what if you're real and I don't think you are? What are the consequences of that?"

The pacing resumed and the rapid fire self-arguing, "Because if you are real, then it must mean something. Surely, the universe cannot be so…kind as to give me this. It has to be something big. Huge. Then again, I restarted the fire, so maybe it's just its way of thanking me. But that's not how it works. And why in your form? That doesn't make sense."

He looked at the woman, making vague gestures with his arms, "Not that I dislike your form. I quite like it actually. But if you are just a figment of my imagination, wouldn't I imagine you the way I last saw you? Unless, my subconscious has always wondered what would have happened if you'd been given the chance to…"

"Doctor, can you please stop rambling for a second and answer this simple question – who is she?" Amy interrupted impatiently.

She knew if she didn't interfere now, the Doctor would never stop and he'd be caught in a never ending loop of his own argument. Yes, she too wanted to know all the answers of how and why but right now she just wanted to know who. Who was the woman?

The Doctor stopped in his tracks, a little startled by Amy's outburst. He looked at her, at Rory, at the center of the TARDIS and then at the woman. Then back at Amy.

She saw the conflict in his eyes. The joy. The pain. The hope.

"She cannot be but possibly is my wife."

tbc