Title: Something To Remember
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Michael Cutter
Fandom: Doctor Who/Law & Order
Rating: R
Table: 100_tales
Prompt: 81, Risk
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 Michael Cutter, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor looked around him as he crossed the street to the front door of the restaurant that he'd agreed to meet Michael at, his eyes scanning the few people on the sidewalk. No, Michael wasn't there. He must already be inside, waiting for him to get there.

Was this a date? Well, really. Of course it was. Michael had asked him out to dinner, and then .... he could almost feel his hearts skip a beat -- or two. The other man was quite devastatingly attractive, after all. It was flattering to think that someone like Michael was attracted to him.

He was definitely attracted to the handsome assistant DA. More than he wanted to admit, and more than was probably good for him, given his situation.

If he and Michael developed anything beyond a friendship, or even a one-night stand, he ran the risk of not being able to stay here for any length of time. Which he probably couldn't anyway, he told himself glumly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he headed for the door of the restaurant.

And how was he going to tell Michael who and what he was? It wasn't as though he could embark on an affair with him and then say "By the way, you've been having it off with an alien all this time. Just thought you might like to know." No, that wouldn't do at all.

That wasn't something he could tell Michael. Who -- and what -- he really was. Not given the fact that the other man was so closely involved with the law. It just wouldn't be possible.

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor squared his shoulders, ran a hand through his hair, and pushed the door open. He would just have to see what happened tonight, and take things with Michael one day at a time. It might not even be more than dinner and conversation.

Though if he was honest, he had to admit that he'd been hoping for at least one evening of wild, unbridled passion ....

The Doctor tore himself away from his thoughts as the maitre d' approached him. He gave the man Michael's name, and was led towards the back of the restaurant, to a part of the large room where the lights were dim and candles flickered in the center of every table.

Michael was seated there, looking just as handsome by candlelight as he had by the light of the sun outside on the sidewalk this afternoon -- even more so, really. The Doctor's hearts skpped another beat or two as he looked at the man he was approaching, his mouth suddenly dry.

He slipped into the chair across the table from Michael, completely at a loss as to what he should say. "Hello" didn't seem like quite enough, but it was the only word he could force out of his constricted throat. Michael smiled at him across the table, his dark eyes taking in the Doctor's features.

"Hello." Michael's voice was low-pitched, well-modulated, a little husky. Was it just his imagination, or did it almost sound .... seductive?

Of course not, the Doctor admonished himself. It only sounded that way because he wanted it to, he was sure. He wanted to let Michael seduce him -- and unless he was very, very wrong about the other man's intentions, that might be what Michael had in mind.

He leaned back in his chair, trying to quell the rapid beating of his hearts. "This is the first time I've been out to dinner with a man in quite a while. Small talk isn't exactly my forté."

"It's not mine either," Michael told him, turning to the waiter as he approached their table. The man was carrying a bottle of wine, opening it expertly and pouring them each a glass. Michael picked up his glass as the waiter departed, smiling and raising it in a toast.

"I took the liberty of ordering wine before you got here. I hope you don't mind," he said, his eyes fixed on the Doctor's face across the table. The Time Lord picked up his glass and raised it to his lips, sipping at the potent red wine, his gaze locked on Michael's.

"Are you planning to get me drunk and have your way with me?" The Doctor was almost shocked that those words had actually come out of his mouth. That was the trouble with drinking, he told himself as he set his wineglass down. It made him say things he normally would keep hidden inside.

"That could most definitely be arranged." Michael smiled as he set his wineglass down, leaning forward and speaking softly. "Would you have any objections?"

"None at all." The Doctor almost couldn't speak. It was a good thing he was sitting down; his legs felt weak, and he was sure that if he'd been standing up, he would have had to find the nearest chair.

"That's good to hear." Michael sat back again, that small smile still playing around his lips. The Doctor couldn't take his eyes off those features; there was something about Michael's face that commanded his attention, as if daring him not to feast his eyes on the other man.

"Aren't you taking a risk, being here with me?" he asked Michael, a frown furrowing his brow. "Anyone you know could walk in here and see you with me. And I'd guess that if you're an assistant DA, it's not exactly an open secret that you fancy men."

Michael shrugged, glancing towards the front of the large room. "Aren't we all taking risks just by going outside in the morning?" he questioned, leaning back in his chair and regarding the Doctor. "Just being alive every day is taking a risk. But we all choose to take it anyway."

The Doctor nodded, struck by Michael's words. He'd never thought of human life in quite that way before, but Michael was right. "You do have a point there."

"And what about you .... John?" Michael asked, quirking an eyebrow in question. "Are you taking any kind of risk to be here with me? Is there some other guy in the background that you haven't mentioned, somebody who's going to be waiting for you when you go back home?"

The Time Lord shook his head, sighing softly as he did so. "No, you have nothing to worry about on that score. There hasn't been anyone for a long time. A very long time."

"I find that hard to believe," Michael said, picking up his wineglass again. "You're too good-looking a man to have been alone for a long time. Unless there's some tragedy and you lost someone you cared about so much that you can't see yourself ever falling in love again, or something like that."

"No, nothing like that." He didn't want to go into explanations of all the people he'd cared for and lost -- this wasn't the time for that, and anyway, it was in the past. It had no bearing on whatever happened between him and Michael. "I can assure you that there isn't anything to hold me back."

"That's exactly what I was hoping," Michael murmured, reaching his free hand across the table to stroke slightly calloused fingertips over the Doctor's cheek. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to waste any more time here. Do you?"

The Doctor couldn't speak, not with those fingertips resting on his skin. He shook his head mutely, his dark eyes meeting Michael's, hoping that the other man could read his feelings in his gaze.

"Then let's go. Like I said this afternoon, I just live across the street." Michael waved the waiter over, telling him that they weren't going to stay for dinner after all, and asking for the bill for the wine. He handed the man his credit card, and stood as the waiter moved off.

"It should only take a few minutes," he said, turning to take his coat from the back of his chair and shrug into it. The Doctor followed suit, hoping that the movement it requred to pick up his coat and pull it on would hide the trembling of his hands.

He was proved right when the waiter was back within seconds, handing Michael his credit card and wishing them a polite good evening. Michael glanced at the Doctor, leading the way to the door and holding it open for the Time Lord to walk out ahead of him.

"Somehow, I don't think either of us are hungry for the kind of food we'd be getting there," he said softly, his eyes meeting the Doctor's again. The look in those eyes almost made the Doctor feel as though he might not be able to walk across the street; his legs felt weak at the knees, watery and insubstantial.

"No, I don't think we are either," he managed to say, surprised when Michael moved closer to him and slid an arm around his waist. He leaned against the other man, grateful for the support.

"I'll feed you later tonight -- or in the morning," Michael told him as they headed across the street, into the lobby of Michael's apartment building. "Somehow I assume you're going to be here all night."

"I think you'd be right about that," the Doctor told him, his hearts skipping yet another few beats.

Michael leaned close to him, whispering in his ear as they waited for the elevator. "I plan to take you home and make love to you all night. And all day tomorrow, and tomorrow night. Good thing it's the weekend -- I don't have to worry about going in to the office, and I can spend all my time with you."

His mouth was suddenly dry again, his hearts thumping painfully against his ribs. How many times had he wished that someone would say something like that to him? And here he was, hearing it from a man that he couldn't possibly have a long-term relationship with, no matter how attracted they were to each other.

He didn't say anything as Michael pulled him into the elevator behind him -- and a moment later, when the doors closed, he couldn't say anything. He was drawn into the other man's arms, Michael's mouth on his, the kiss unexpected but not unwelcome.

When the elevator doors opened, Michael led him out into the hallway, stopping in front of a door nearly across from the elevator. He unlocked the door, swinging it wide to let the Doctor enter the front room, following him and closing the door behind them.

Before the Doctor could catch his breath, he was in Michael's arms again. This time, he let himself relax completely, giving himself over to the other man's embrace.

Whatever would happen, he was ready for it. One-night stand, or something more? He couldn't say, but whichever it was, he was sure that it would be something he'd remember for a very long time.

***