Title: Just Desserts
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Brendan Block
Fandom: Doctor Who/Secret Smile
Rating: PG-13
Table: 100moods
Prompt: 76, Predatory
Warning: past non-con.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor or Brendan Block, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor sighed as he leaned back in his chair in front of the viewscreens, watching Brendan out of the corner of his eye. His boyfriend was restless, unable to sit down for more than a few moments at a time, prowling around the control room like a caged animal.

Brendan had been like this for the past few days; the Doctor thought that he knew why, but he wanted his boyfriend to say his reasons for his actions out loud. He felt that they needed to talk about the mood that Brendan was in, calmly and rationally.

He wanted to ask his lover what was wrong, but he was hesitant to do so; he knew from experience that Brendan would more than likely deny that there was anything the matter, and go on brooding. The Doctor knew how easy it was to keep things bottled up inside.

He didn't want that for Brendan. He wanted his lover to be able to talk with him about anything, to feel that he had someone who was there for him at all times. And he was going to give Brendan that reassurance, no matter what he had to do for that goal to be achieved.

How was he going to bring the subject up? The Time Lord chewed at his lower lip, watching silently as his lover paced around the control room with his hands clasped behind his back. The frown on Brendan's face made hm worry, his hearts starting to pound in his chest.

What could Brendan be thinking about to make him have that look of intense concentration on his face, that frown that seemed to be affixed there permanently? The Doctor was sure that his lover's thoughts were of the Master; he'd seen that look on Brendan's features before.

The next time Brendan turned his back to make another circuit around the room, the Doctor rose from his chair, moving to the console and watching his boyfriend with a worried frown on his own face. It was time to face the issue, and have a talk with Brendan.

The other man stopped in his tracks when he turned and saw the Doctor standing there; his eyes widened a bit before he moved towards the Time Lord, a reluctant smile starting to curve his lips. But the Doctor's worried expression remained, intensifying with each moment.

"What do you look so worried for, Doctor?" Brendan inquired, raising an eyebrow in question. "You look like there's something on your mind. Care to talk about it?" His voice was carefully neutral, as though he knew precisely what was worrying the other man.

"I think you know what's bothering me, love," the Time Lord said, keeping his voice soft and gentle. "I know you're restless, Brendan -- and I've seen that look on your face before. You're thinking about the Master, aren't you? You're thinking about taking revenge on him."

"Wouldn't you be?" Brendan said, his voice short and clipped. He turned away from the Doctor again, as if being too near the Time Lord was something that would distract him from the issue at hand. "I can't help it, Doctor. I can't just stand by and let him do this to us."

"Let it go, Brendan." The Doctor's voice was still soft, but there was a steely undercurrent to it than anyone who knew him would immediately recognize. It was his voice of command, a tone that brooked no argument and no opposition.

"I know you're feeling predatory," he continued, without giving Brendan a chance to speak. "And I don't blame you. The anger stage is something I've been through myself many times. But you have to let it go, love. You can't keep brooding on the past."

"I know that!" Brendan burst out, sounding equal parts chastised and resentful. "But I keep thinking about what he did to me, Doctor. And to you. What's he done to you so many times over the centuries. He had to pay for that. He has to."

"And he will, Brendan." The Doctor tried to think of something to say that would convince Brendan of the veracity of his words, but nothing came to mind. Nothing other than words he'd already said, that hadn't seemed to make much of a dent in his lover's thoughts.

"How?" Brendan demanded, his fists clenching. "He's gotten away with so much, Doctor. He's hurt you time and time again over the years. He's committed genocide. He's made so many lives miserable -- and taken so many others. He deserves to be called to task for that."

"Brendan, he will be -- someday," the Doctor said softly, wishing that he could calm his boyfriend down and get him out of the predatory mood he appeared to be in. "You may not see it happen, but it will. I can promise you that. You have to believe that he'll get his just desserts."

Brendan sighed, moving to the chair that the Time Lord had been seated in before and lowering himself into it. "I want to see him get what he deserves, Doctor. I don't know if I can simply have faith that it'll happen. I want to see it with my own eyes, to know that it's done."

The Doctor wanted that, too; he wanted Brendan to have the closure that he knew his boyfriend needed. But that might not be possible; he wasn't even sure that he himself would be able to see the Master have the comeuppance for his past crimes that he so richly deserved.

"I wish that I could tell you definitively whether or not you'll see it happen, sweetheart," he said softly, his gaze fixed on his lover. "All that I can do is tell you that we both need to believe it will happen -- and that we have to try to put the past behind us both."

"I know that it's best for me to forget about taking revenge on him," Brendan whispered, his hands clenching into fists in his lap. "But it's so hard not to do that, Doctor. I've always been a predatory animal when I'm wronged. And this time, it's not just me."

"I know it isn't, love," the Doctor replied, trying to keep his voice soft and soothing. "But you can't simply go after him, Brendan. That's what he wants, you know. That's what he's waiting for. He's going to be prepared for any attack you might try to launch on him."

Brendan nodded reluctantly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "Yes, he will. And that's why I haven't done anything up until this point. That, and the fact that I've been trying to be more like you. But it's hard to ignore what he's done, Doctor."

"We're not ignoring it." The Time Lord's voice rang out firmly and clearly in the silence of the control room. "We'll give him his just desserts one day, Brendan. I promise you that. But this isn't the day -- and this isn't the time for you to be thinking about doing so."

"It's still too fresh in my mind, too close to me. That's what you mean, isn't it?" Brendan asked, sighing again. "You're probably right. I need to let the scars heal more than they have. They're still fresh, and still raw. I can't rip them open again so soon."

"That's exactly what I mean," the Doctor agreed, nodding. "And also, the next time we run into the Master, we need to be strong, Brendan. We need to be prepared for that meeting. Going at him out of anger and a need for revenge is only going to cause us problems."

"It's so hard to hold that predatory feeling back," Brendan murmured, taking a breath and letting it out slowly. "But I'll try, Doctor. For you, I'll try. But you have to know that there's an animal inside me that's just slumbering -- and it's waiting for a chance to jump out."

"I know, love," the Doctor said softly, resting a hand on his lover's knee. "But you'll defeat that animal, Brendan. You've done it before, and you can do it again. And I promise you, love, the next time we have to tangle with the Master, we'll be better prepared."

"I hope we will be, Doctor." Brendan's voice was grim; the Time Lord knew that the predatory beast that was locked somewhere deep inside him had been caged, but the sound of his voice let the Doctor know that it was only sleeping until it was ready to be awakened again.

He could only hope that his words to Brendan were true, and that they would be prepared for their next encounter with Master. If they weren't, that meeting could have dire consequences -- and he didn't want to think about what kind of disaster might befall them.

***