Title: Spark To A Flame
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jethro Cane
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG
Table: slash_me_twice
Prompt: 30, Spark
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 Jethro Cane. Please do not sue.


Jethro blinked as he awakened, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. Beside him, the Doctor was still asleep, his long, lean body pressed against Jethro's, his head pillowed on the young man's chest.

He smiled as he looked down at the sleeping Time Lord, resisting the impulse to ruffle his hair, or bend his head to press a kiss against those beautiful lips. No, he'd let the Doctor sleep; he didn't seem to need much rest, but he looked so peaceful like this.

In fact, Jethro loved watching him sleep. It was one of the few times he was able to observe his lover when the other man wasn't moving around, in perpetual motion, always rushing from one thing to another with the joyful abandon of a child.

That was one of the things he loved best about the Doctor, he told himself with a smile as he settled himself more comfortably against the pillows of their bed. He'd never met many people who still retained that kind attitude once they'd passed a certain age.

And considering how old the Doctor actually was .... Jethro shook his head, laughing inwardly. Was the Time Lord going through some kind of second childhood the older he got? If he was, then he'd gladly come along for the ride.

The Doctor had given him new ways of looking at the world around him that he'd never thought of before. Maybe that attitude of wonderment was enveloping him, as well.

There was so much about the Doctor that had changed him since they'd been together, Jethro reflected, looking down at the man in his arms with a smile curving his lips. He'd been pretty much a kid when they'd met, and he'd grown up a lot since then.

He'd done a lot of growing in the time that they'd been apart before they'd run into each other again on Midnight, he thought, absently threading his fingers through the Doctor's tawny hair. The Doctor had somehow been able to sense that right away.

Or was it that the Time Lord had somehow been drawn to Midnight, looking for him? They'd never really said as much, but Jethro had the feeling that they'd both known they were looking for each other.

He'd definitely been looking for the Doctor. That was the only reason he'd gone back to Midnight after what had happened the first time he'd been there, when he'd first met the Doctor and had been with his parents.

He shuddered at the memory; it wasn't something he was proud of. The only good thing that had come out of that was realizing that a man like the Doctor existed in the world -- and becoming convinced that man was meant for him.

The thought that the Doctor would turn away from him when they'd met again because of that initial first meeting had haunted him, and had almost made him hesitate about looking for the other man. But he hadn't been able to stop himself.

What was it about the Doctor that had led him back to Midnight? Why had he been so completely obsessed with a man who he barely knew, who he'd only met once?

Jethro didn't really have an answer for that -- other than to say that his empathy must have been on the lookout for the Doctor at the time. He'd known even then that this was the man he wanted to spend his life with -- he just hadn't been able to say it.

And then the Time Lord had disappeared. He'd tried to find out where he was before he'd left the planet, but of course, he'd been with his parents at the time, and had to do what they wanted. But he'd sworn that he would find the Doctor again -- someday, somehow.

He finally had, thank goodness. If there had been something standing in his way to prevent him from further contact iwth the Time Lord, he still would have somehow found a way to get to this man. The Doctor was his destiny. He always had been.

He had tried to deny at first that there was a spark between himself and the Doctor when they'd talked on that train; even though he'd wanted more than anything to believe that they had made a connection, he tried his best to convince himself that they weren't meant to be.

But his empathy wouldn't let him give up that easily. He wouldn't have been able to swear to it at the time, but he thought at times that he could almost feel the Doctor around him, even though the other man must have been miles -- even galaxies -- away at the time.

Anyone else might have thought that he was out of his mind -- but he knew that he was drawn to the Time Lord, and he'd set out to devote his life to finding the other man.

In the end, it had been easier than he'd thought it would be, he had to admit. Something had drawn him back to Midnight -- and the Doctor had been there, almost as though they were fated to meet again, meant to find each other and pick up the threads of what they'd begun.

That spark that had first lit up between them on the train had suddenly turned into a roaring conflagration when he'd looked into the Doctor's dark eyes on that street. It was as though he was falling into an abyss that he didn't want to pull himself out of.

If he'd ever had any doubts that this man was meant for him, they were gone in that moment. He knew, then and there, that the Doctor was the man he wanted to spend his life with. There was no going back, not from that point on.

How had such a small spark turned into a steady flame? Jethro shook his head as he looked down at the Doctor again, pushing that thought away. He didn't need to know why they'd fallen in love. The important thing was that they had.

He'd never thought he believed in fate -- until he'd met the Doctor. From the day that he'd walked off that train on Midnight and tried to look over his shoulder to see the other man again one last time, he'd known in his heart that they would meet again.

Of course, he hadn't known everything that they'd be to each other. That would come later. But he'd started to believe in fate at that moment -- and to cling to that belief.

The people around him had tried to make him hide his gift, told him that he should try to be more "normal," that he'd never get anywhere in life if anyone knew that he was different. But he hadn't listened. He'd gone his own way.

And now .... he'd never been so glad in his life that he'd stuck to his guns about something. He'd gotten so much more out of life than any of those people who were conventional, who walked the straight and narrow path and never deviated from it.

He had someone to love, someone who loved him just as much as he loved them. An incredible, exciting man, a man who had showed him the universe -- and would show him much, much more before their time together came to and end.

The spark that had leapt into a flame had burnt higher and higher with every day that they were together -- and it showed no signs of burning out any time soon. Jethro was sure that as long as they nurtured it carefully, it never would.

All right, so maybe he was being a little optimistic about that. The spark had settled into a flame that burned steadily and surely -- though it did flare up when the two of them were together in more of the conventional way, he thought, with another inward smile.

He thought about waking the Doctor, but decided against it. No, he was happy to sit here and cradle the man he loved in his arms as he slept peacefully on.

Looking around him at their bedroom on the Tardis, Jethro sent up a soft prayer of thanks to the fate that had made all of this possible -- and a fervent hope that the flame burning so brightly between the two of them would never be snuffed out.