Title: Act of Rage
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Mick St. John
Fandom: Doctor Who/Moonlight
Rating: R
Table: DIY, 100_situations
Prompt: 7, Blood
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Tenth Doctor or Mick St. John, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

"Are you sure that walking into an interstellar bar when we're so obviously together in more than a friendly way is a good idea?" Mick asked the Doctor, a frown furrowing his brow as he looked at the place they were heading towards. "I don't want to start any trouble."

"I've been here many times before, Mick," the Time Lord assured him, shaking his head. "There won't be any trouble. Well, there could be," he amended, reconsidering his words. "But it won't be because we're a couple. That kind of thing is the norm here."

"Really?" Mick raised an eyebrow, surprised at the Doctor's words. "The universe must be a lot more tolerant in other places than Earth, then. It's still considered pretty risqué for a gay couple to walk into a bar there. Unless it's a gay bar."

The Time Lord laughed, shaking his head again. "Most of the universe got over gender prejudice a long time ago. Two men, two women, a man and a woman -- it doesn't matter. Gender is the least thing that so many other species in the galaxy have to worry about."

Mick didn't doubt that; from what he'd seen on some of the planets the Doctor had already taken him to had made him realize that some of the problems Earth was grappling with were child's play. They faded into insignificance in the light of what other planets dealt with.

Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair, then pushed the door open, holding it for the Doctor to walk into the bar. The place was crowded, but far less noisy than Mick had expected it to be. It didn't seem like such a bad place to pass the time.

He had to admit that some of the denizens of the bar didn't exactly look like the kind of people he would want to tangle with. He couldn't help but wonder if any of them had seen an actual vampire in the flesh before -- or if any of them were his kind, but from another world.

No, he didn't sense any vampires around. He must be the only one, but that didn't mean that he could let his guard down. There were far too many rough-looking characters in here; he wanted to keep an eye on the Doctor and make sure that his lover wasn't accosted.

Any violence that seemed to take place around here probably happened outside, he told himself. Just as on Earth, he was fairly sure that no one would start trouble in a bar, and that the people who owned the place would throw anyone out who tried to start a fight.

With that in mind, he followed the Time Lord to the bar, sitting down on a stool beside the other man and wondering what he should order. It wasn't as though he was going to drink anything; he could only drink blood. Anything else would just be for show.

To his surprise, that was exactly what the Doctor ordered -- a glass of A positive blood for his boyfriend, and a banana daiquiri for himself. The Time Lord turned to him with a smile that became a laugh when he saw the look of amazement on Mick's features.

"What? Do you think that there aren't other species in the galaxy that drink blood?" he asked, shaking his head and raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend. "Mick, there might not be any vampires here at the moment, but you can be sure that some have through here at some time."

"Are you sure about that?" Mick asked, looking around in some trepidation. He could hardly believe that there were vampires from other planets; and whatever species came in here that also drank blood, he didn't think that he wanted to make their acquaintance.

"Positive." The Doctor's voice was strong and steady; he reached out for Mick's hand, twining their fingers together and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, Mick. There are interstellar blood banks, you know. Any blood you drink here came from one of them."

Mick nodded, feeling more than a little relieved at his lover's words. The thought that any innocent human might have died to supply this place with whatever blood he drank here made him feel sick; if that had been the case, he would have wanted to leave right away.

He turned around from the bar, the glass he'd just been given in his hand, surveying the rest of the room. The act that he witnessed when his gaze swept the room made him pause in horror for just one moment before his instinct for justice took him over, dictating what he did next.

It took him a moment to realize that the man who was standing directly behind him had a knife in his hand. It wasn't meant for him, however; with a growl, the man turned and plunged the knife into the stomach of the man standing at his right side.

The action was over and done with so quickly that Mick barely had time to register what had happened; but when he did, he leaped into action himself. It only took him a moment to have the man's throat in his hand, even as the miscreant had his knife posed to sink it into another victim.

He hadn't expected such a sudden breakout of violence, even though the Doctor had warned him when they left the Tardis that this planet could be a place that wasn't entirely safe. But any planet was like that, wasn't it? So he hadn't really taken that too seriously.

But this man was standing far too close to the Doctor; if he was aiming that knife at anyone within a certain range of him, he could easily decide to sink it into the Time Lord's flesh. Mick wasn't going to let that happen. His hand tightened on the man's throat, a growl coming from his own.

The man shouted at Mick, swinging a foot back to kick him and struggling to raise his arm. This time, the knife was meant for him; Mick was sure of it. So he did the only thing that he could think of in the heat of the moment to keep himself from being harmed.

He turned the man's neck to one side with a simply flick of his wrist, feeling it snap under his fingers. The body hung briefly from his hand before Mick let it go, watching whoever it had been crumple to the floor in a lifeless heap as though he couldn't quite believe he'd caused that death.

He stared at his hand, still feeling the snap when that man's neck had broken. He hadn't wanted any kind of trouble, hadn't wanted to cause a stir. And yet he had been responsible for part of the carnage that had just taken place here tonight.

The Doctor's hand on his shoulder brought Mick out of his trance; he turned to look at his lover, his eyes wide with horror at what he'd just done. "I was afraid he'd go after you," he said, his voice hoarse. "He was so close to us. I couldn't have let him hurt you."

"I don't think he would have aimed for me," the Doctor whispered, backing towards the door. "Let's go, Mick. It's not a good idea for us to be here. Outbreaks of violence happen here, but it's best for you to be gone now that it's done."

Mick nodded, agreeing with the Doctor. It took him a moment to realize that he still the knife in his hand, the knife that he'd snatched from the man to keep him from using it again. It was covered with blood -- and for just a moment, he couldn't hold back his vampire nature.

He could feel his features changing, mutating into his more feral side. He hated to have that side come out here and now, in this way, but for just a few fleeting moments, he couldn't control it. He simply stood there, staring at the knife in his hand as he raised it to his face.

It took all the willpower he possessed not to lick the shining rivulets of red from that gleaming silver surface. He hadn't fed since that morning; he had more than enough blood in him to keep him satiated, but the nearness of it, the scent ....

After a few moments, he managed to toss the knife to the floor, feeling his features return to normal as he turned to the Doctor and followed the Time Lord to the door. Without looking at the faces of the people in the bar, they left, not wanting to look back.

They were silent on their way back to the Tardis, Mick turning over what had happened in his mind. This was the first time he'd let his vampiric nature come through in a while; he felt ashamed that he hadn't been able to control it, to keep it safely hidden.

But he was a vampire. He couldn't simply ignore his nature and pretend that it wasn't a huge part of who and what he was. There was no hiding it completely, no matter how much he might want to. And it would more than likely come out yet again, when he didn't expect it.

"You could have saved my life in there," the Doctor told him, his voice soft. "Thank you, Mick. That didn't turn out in a good way, but neither of us were hurt -- and you probably stopped him from killing anyone else. I don't think you've necessarily done a bad thing."

"I don't think we'll be able to go back there again," Mick muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "So that's a bad thing. But I couldn't let anything happen to you, Doctor. That was the only thought in my mind. And I wouldn't change what I did, even if it was an act of rage."

But would he? Mick didn't really know the answer to that. All he could think of was how he'd felt when he had seen that gleaming red viscous substance on that knife -- and hope that the Doctor hadn't seen his expression and been repulsed by it.

"We might not be able to go back, but at this point, I think that bar has lost its charm for me," the Doctor told him, shuddering as he looked back over his shoulder. "It's rougher than I remember it being. Not coming back here again is no great loss, Mick."

Mick nodded as they approached the Tardis, entering the ship silently and making sure that the door was locked behind them. He didn't want to come back to this bar -- or this planet. He had the disquieting feeling that his face would be remembered -- as well as what he had done.

***