Daydreaming About Miss Gillan

It is 8 years in the future, and I am attending a gala fundraiser for my research team's work toward a cure for the newly discovered zombie retrovirus, Z1N1. Across the room I spy the most elegant and radiant woman I have ever laid eyes upon. My heart quickens as I make my way through the chattering throng of celebrities and wealthy socialites, till I find myself standing next to the stunning, red-haired beauty.

"Well, and who might you be?" I ask.

She turns to look at me, and an expression of dazzled awe crosses her delicate face as she encounters the dashing and distinguished microbiologist before her.

"I'm Karen," she replies, offering her hand.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Karen," I answer. "My name is Frank."

She blushes slightly at the gentle, yet manly touch of my hand on hers as she stands transfixed by my disarming, yet reassuring gaze.

"And what brings you to this event, Frank?" she asks, as a coy smile illuminates the soft, feminine contours of her lovely face.

"I am part of the research team," I answer with a cool, confident casualness.

She is visibly impressed. She senses that she is in the presence of a man whose brilliance is exceeded only by his masculine good looks.

I give her a sly smile. "I must say that it is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance...Miss...Gillan, isn't it?"

A hint of surprised delight flashes in her eyes.

"Why, yes," she says, "I am Karen Gillan."

"Miss Gillan, would you care to have a drink with me?" I ask, offering her my arm.

"I would be delighted," she replies giddily.

And so we spend the evening chatting like two new lovers drunk with the thrill of having met their perfect matches. She is swept away by my easy charm and scintillating wit and is utterly awed by my encyclopedic knowledge of infectious diseases. I drink in the sweetness of her girlish exuberance and her playful joie de vivre.

And thus are our lives forever transformed.