Title: Summer in the City
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Michael Cutter
Fandom: Doctor Who/Law & Order
Rating: PG-13
Table: 100_tales
Prompt: 26, Summer
Warning: ongoing story, 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 Michael Cutter, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

Mike looked out of the window at the busy street below, resting his head against the glass and closing his eyes. What was there to see on the busy city street that he hadn't already seen a million times? At least he was no longer a part of it.

His life had improved immeasurably since he'd met the Doctor, even though he had to admit that there were times when he missed his old life. Sometimes he felt that he didn't do much with his life any more -- and that he should try to return to what he was used to doing.

But if he chose that route, then he would have to leave the man he loved -- and there was no way he could do that. The Doctor had become a part of his heart and soul; he could no longer go back to New York and take up the threads of his old life than he could voluntarily stop breathing.

Besides, even if he could work for the DA's office again, his life would be empty without the Doctor. He was exactly where he belonged -- even though it was hard sometimes to reconcile himself to the fact that he felt like dead weight in the Time Lord's life.

It was hard to believe that it was summer already, and that such a long time had passed since the events that had caused him to have to give up his job. There were times when it seemed as though it had only happened yesterday; it was all still so crystal-clear in his mind.

He should be getting over everything that he'd been through by now, Mike thought, sighing as he opened his eyes and looked out of the window again. How long was it going to take him to reconcile himself to the fact that his rapists would very likely never be found?

The Doctor wasn't going to rest until they were found and brought to justice, either. That was why the Time Lord kept insisting that they come back here, to New York City, even though Michael knew that he didn't exactly feel at home here. The place made him a little nervous.

His lover didn't need to feel that way, really, Mike told himself. The Doctor fit in here, in spite of his British accent. He was a handsome man; people turned to look at him when he walked down the street, or entered any place of business. He attracted attention.

As long as he didn't attract attention from the wrong people, Mike thought with a frown. The last thing he wanted was for the Doctor to become a target, just as he had been. Though there was no reason for that to happen, he assured himself.

He had been a prosecutor in the DA's office; he'd been responsible for sending a lot of people to jail. He'd made himself a target, even though he hadn't chosen to think of himself in that vein when he'd been working for the DA. He'd simply been doing his job.

If he was honest, he had to admit that he still missed it at times. He missed the courtroom sparring, the feeling that he was doing some good for the world. But he had to admit that he liked his life the way it was now, too. He liked being able to spend all of his time with the man he loved.

Michael only hoped that they would soon find what they were looking for -- but that didn't seem possible. His assailants seemed to have gone to ground; by this time, they could be anywhere in the world. Or they could even be dead, beyond the reach of anyone's justice.

The Doctor was out in the city somewhere now; he had insisted that he needed to go out alone, and that he didn't want Michael to come with him. That was worrisome, but he had long since ceased to worry that his lover was going to take off and leave him behind.

The Doctor would never do that. He wasn't a man who simply ran out on people he cared about -- he'd done it in the past, and he'd explained the situations and his reasons for what he'd done to Mike. It was as though he wanted to assure his lover that it wouldn't happen again.

And the Time Lord was probably right about it being best for him to stay behind, if he was doing what Mike thought he was. He sighed softly, raising a hand and placing it against the windowpane. If the men who had kidnapped him were still around, he could still be a target.

After all, he'd been rescued when it obviously hadn't been expected. So whatever they had intended to do to him, they hadn't had a chance to follow through with it -- and neither Michael nor the Doctor wanted to take the risk of them trying to finish what they'd started.

What if they recognized the Doctor somehow? What if it was taking his lover so long to get back to the hotel because he'd been kidnapped by those bastards? What if even now, the Time Lord was suffering something similar to what Mike had been through?

Mike realized that his hands were clenching into fists at the thought, that his jaw had gone rigid. Slowly, he forced himself to relax; that idea was absurd. The Doctor knew how to take care of himself; he wasn't going to fall into some trap set for him.

It wasn't as though Michael's assailants even knew that the Doctor had anything to do with him,after all. They hadn't seen the Time Lord when he'd found Mike and taken him out of that place; they more than likely had no idea who the tall, thin man was.

They would pay no attention to the Doctor. They wouldn't know that he was out looking for them, with the plan of bringing them to justice. When the Doctor's brand of vengeance found them, it would be swift; they would have no idea of just what had hit them.

Not that he would harm them, Mike told himself. No, the Doctor might not make those men go through the channels of justice that Mike had worked with here on Earth, but he wouldn't kill them in cold blood. That wasn't his way. No, he would devise some other punishment.

But Michael had no doubt that he would just that when they were found. They would regret what they'd done -- and they would more than likely have eternity to think about those regrets and let them sink in. The Doctor wouldn't let them off easily.

It was so hot out there, he thought fretfully. Why wasn't the Time Lord back yet? He should have gone along with his lover; he very much doubted that the Doctor would recognize any of those men if he did happen to see them. He should be out looking, as well.

Now that was a silly notion, he admonished himself. Of course the Doctor would know who they were. He had taken that information from Michael's mind, seen into his thoughts; he knew those faces as well as Mike did. If he saw one of them, they would be instantly recognized.

There would be nowhere that they could hide from the Doctor once they were discovered. Mike knew that his lover wouldn't simply murder them in cold blood and leave their bodies to rot in the summer heat, but he would track them down and exact retribution.

He was that kind of man, as he'd told Mike several times. He didn't give second chances. Maybe another incarnation of who he'd been in the past would have done so, or maybe one far in the future would be more forgiving. But that wasn't him. Not as he was now.

Maybe he should go out looking for the Doctor, despite what his lover had said about it being better for him to stay behind. They would be leaving here soon, and it would be nice to reacquaint himself with the city he'd lived in for so long and had considered his home.

But what was the use in that? Michael thought with a sigh. Summer in the city, especially as hot as it was today, was never a pleasant thing. Not unless you were indoors, in the air conditioning. He really didn't want to go out in this heat.

And he didn't need to see the city again. He'd spent enough years of his life here; there were some very fond memories here that he would always carry with him, but New York was no longer his home. He didn't belong here in the way that he used to.

His home was with the Doctor, on the Tardis. His home was wherever his lover was, wherever the two of them decided to roam. Strangely enough, he was happy with that. He'd always thought that he was so settled, so bound to one place -- but he'd discovered that wasn't the case.

Still, he couldn't simply stand here and gaze out of the window at the street, wondering when the Doctor was going to come back. He was getting worried about the Time Lord; he had to go out and do something, find out where his lover had gone.

As though the Doctor had read his thoughts, Mike heard the sound of the key in the lock of the hotel room; he turned from the window with relief in his heart. Soon, they would be out of this city and back into the stars -- which, at the moment, was where he wanted to be.

***