I'm hearing 'As The World Falls Down', from the Labyrinth soundtrack.

The dramatic recitation was a trial of her willpower. Tegan knew she'd not dare close her eyes or the measured cadences of the presenters would put her to sleep. Two minutes in, realizing her peril, she decided she'd rather drop dead of boredom than embarrass the Doctor. It was more like a ritual recitation, highly stylized, for an audience that wanted to hear the same thing they had always heard. It was Gallifrey. If only she could understand it, maybe she'd understand this strange, cold world better.

"'As youths, they called each other by names that are lost to history. But it is said that when they met in maturity, they recalled their friendship. Rassilon said to Omega, "I will not have it said that any other esteems you more than I."'

"'Omega replied to Rassilon, "No other could be a greater friend to me than are you."'

"'Then said the third of their number, "Then call me the Other, for my esteem of Omega equals yours, Rassilon, even as I consider you equally my friend.'"

The elite were seated up front, with others either sitting or standing at the back. Tegan missed Keludar's company. While she sat in the front row next to the Doctor, playing the Lord President's date, the students were being mildly rowdy in back. If she knew Keludar, he was supplying snarky commentary on the performance.

"'Omega cried out, "I will do this thing by my own hand, for I would bring no one else into danger.'

"'And the Other said to him, "Then by your own hand you will fall, for this task is too great for one alone.'"

She could feel someone watching her. When Tegan looked over her shoulder, she met not Keludar's gaze, but that of the old Time Lord directly behind her. He was scowling. There were several people looking right at her, and Tegan turned quickly to face the front. The Doctor glanced over his shoulder, sighed, and patted her arm.

"'O, Rassilon, I fear your thirst for knowledge will lead to some dark end. We have lost Omega and now there is no other to whom you will listen." As his words were unheeded, the Other left the Citadel and his wisdom left with him.'

"'When Rassilon learned that his other friend was lost to him, he proclaimed, "No Time Lord shall ever possess more than thirteen lives, for immortality without companionship is a curse." As his thirteenth incarnation failed, he wrote his last secrets on black scrolls, that who dared read them would know they were the secrets only of death.'"

Tegan understood that part all too well. By the Doctor's bleak expression, he was thinking of Borusa, whom he'd last seen as a dreadful carving on the side of Rassilon's tomb. She put her hand over his. He turned his hand to clasp hers, twining their fingers.

"'Let us all remember that Omega gave his life for Gallifrey, that Rassilon gave his death to Gallifrey, and that the Other gave to Gallifrey a gift of which each of us decides the value: a question.'"

Everyone applauded. At least part of Tegan's appreciation was for having stayed awake until the end. Dancing now, please: she didn't care how many times her toes got trampled by novice partners if she could get up and move about.

The Doctor stood, drawing her to her feet. Tegan fluffed her skirt and tried to wriggle a little to get the kinks out of her back and legs. She felt like the slightest motion she made was being scrutinized. After weeks of going almost unnoticed on Gallifrey, it was odd to suddenly be the center of attention.

- o - O - o -

The Doctor first complimented the presenters of the recitation, and then waited for them to join the other guests. He then spoke to everyone. "Mathematics is one of the most respected sciences, and by logical extension, music is our most respected art. On Earth, a planet for which I have much affection," he smiled at Tegan, "they have a term for the motion of the planets and stars they see in their sky. They call this the 'music of the spheres.' Sound is patterned motion, and in the art of dancing, the dancer makes visible music after the fashion of the stars. Thank you for consenting to attempt the revival of this ancient art."

Tegan walked with her hand on the Doctor's arm. As they reached the edge of the dance floor, light spilled into the vast empty space. A moonlight glow enfolded her and the Doctor, and she realized this was Senfadrell's last minute inspiration. Each dancer would be surrounded by an ambient glow that was both spotlight and private world.

But she and the Doctor would be the first, alone, on the floor. With everyone watching. Tegan gulped. She, Turlough, and the Doctor had selected the order of the dances, using only a couple of variations. Tegan had practiced with Turlough, but the Doctor hadn't the time. The music started. She found herself in the Doctor's arms, and put a hand trembling with stage fright on his shoulder. She stared resolutely at his right ear.

"Look at me, Tegan," he said in a low voice.

Their eyes met. Pitched to her ears alone, his voice was a deep rumble.

"Trust me. For once in your life, trust me completely." He held her gaze. The Doctor was right. Tegan had never truly trusted him. Maybe she'd never in all her life given anyone her complete trust.

The beat struck. They moved, skimming smoothly over the floor. Tegan could not match gazes with the Doctor. She turned her face to his shoulder, but her eyes slid to his face to find him looking back. The harmonious negotiation of their steps settled all the fights they'd had, all the resentments they'd held. They were dancing together. She trusted him.

Tegan could see other couples around them, but their existence was irrelevant. The light and the music was all theirs, only theirs. He steered her as easily as a wind steers a leaf. They played with the steps. They released each other, and orbited their center until the gravitation of mutual attraction drew them inevitably together again. His smile mirrored hers.

The spell ended with the music. The private moon glow faded. The awareness of others rushed in. A blush heated Tegan's face and she looked away. Turlough and Flavia were bearing down on them.

The Doctor leaned in, still holding her hand. "I will find you again, later. Remember, you don't have to dance with anyone you don't wish to dance with."

"Yes, Doctor," Tegan said automatically. She felt as if some part of her were still dancing. He looked closely into her eyes, smiled at her until she smiled back, then went to meet Flavia.

- o - O - o -

The Doctor was partnered with Flavia, and she saw Turlough with Ambirren. She wondered who would lead and privately bet on Turlough. A man she recognized as a Junior Time Lord stepped into her line of sight. "May I have this dance, my lady?" The music began again, and Tegan took the offered hands. Her new partner was could follow the steps and keep pace with the beat, but she could feel his stiffness. He did not surrender to the music. In her present exalted mood, Tegan felt as if she could teach an elephant to tap dance. With deft adjustments of her own steps, she drew him into the music with her. By the end of the dance he was moving almost freely.

"That was delightful. Shall we go around again?" He smiled at her hopefully.

They were interrupted. "The instructions make it clear that one should not dance with the same partner in successive dances. Bad form, you see." Tegan recognized the man who came up to them as one of Keludar's student friends. "May I have this dance?" he asked, cutting in smoothly. She wondered, as the music began, if Turlough had been training them.

After weeks of having Gallifreyans smile politely and dismiss her existence, Tegan was popular. They were dancing her off her feet. She hardly had time to stop before a new partner offered himself. The faces blurred together. The first one she recognized was Martusan.

"May I have this dance?"

He was reaching for her hand and she was about to say, "No," when she saw Keludar approaching from behind him. "No, sorry, I need a break," became, "Yes!" Music started, and the first turn of the dance showed her the Doctor behind her. He was not looking at her, but at Keludar. Martusan had neatly snapped her up under both their noses.

The music had a relaxed pace. The steps kept her close to Martusan. Tegan considered him thoughtfully. "You knew this was going to be a slow dance, didn't you?"

"I've been planning this since the cerub nuts," he admitted shamelessly.

Tegan laughed. "I'm flattered. By the way, you're an excellent dancer for someone who is new to dancing, if that's so?"

"Never before tonight. I find it a physically invigorating activity with an unexpected intellectual appeal. The choices of the dancers form meaningful patterns. It's quite fascinating if you're interested in sociology. However, at the moment I would rather enjoy your company while I have it." Martusan adjusted his grip slightly.

Despite the fact that she was on an alien planet, surrounded by aliens, and the only other human was a woman from a feral tribe of castaways, Tegan knew exactly where she was. She was being hit on. Martusan could be thousands of years old but his type was eternal.

Just as armies have officers and enlisted, in the war between the sexes, there are certain traditional positions available. Martusan was the Suave Older Man. Tegan could feel herself slipping into the role of the Vulnerable Young Woman. Or, and this was looking attractive, she could head butt him.

"Let's not talk," Tegan said tightly. She fixed her gaze over his shoulder, and tried to slip back into the music. The Doctor had chosen tonight's music. It was his personal contribution to the design of the evening.

At the end of the dance, Tegan politely thanked Martusan then got away from the dance floor. She tucked herself into a privacy cubicle and regarded her face in the mirror. For no reason she could give, her reflection was a stranger. The red sparks still glowed in her hair, but her eyes were dark pools, concealing secrets even from their own gaze.

The Doctor was her friend. She'd grown to like Turlough, but they had no real connection to each other. What was she doing here anyway? Tegan Jovanka, the ex-air hostess, had become a traveler to past, future, and the outer reaches of space. There were scientists and astronauts who'd kill to be in her high heels if they could stand where she had. Somehow, the Doctor had picked her. While technically speaking that was completely wrong, Tegan believed it implicitly. Why else had his dented old TARDIS and her aunt's temperamental runabout rendezvoused on the Barnett Bypass? Why else had Omega picked her cousin to hold captive in Amsterdam? Either the Doctor was behind it, deliberately or not, or the Universe was conspiring to bring their paths together. That would be the blind date to end all blind dates.

He owed her another dance, but it was asking a little much of him to find her in here. Tegan fluffed the skirt of her winter sunlight dress and did a few flexes to keep her legs from stiffening up. The President's date, the Lady Tegan, could not hide from the social event of the winter. There was a night to be seized.

tbc