Title: Taken By Surprise
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Brendan Block
Fandom: Doctor Who/Secret Smile
Rating: PG-13
Table: 4
Prompt: 2, Surprised
Warning: ongoing story
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 sauntered along a half-empty street, looking around him at the few people who were out. They all seemed to be taking their time, window-shopping, walking slowly, apparently in no hurry to be anywhere. Somewhat like him, he thought; he was in no hurry to go to any particular place. He had nowhere to go, nothing to do, not a care in the world.

And no one to be with, that insinuating little voice in the back of his mind piped up. No one who wanted to be with him.

That voice was almost enough to turn his smile into a frown within just a few seconds. He'd come here to have a bit of peace and quiet, to get away from the feeling of being rootless, unwanted. Of course, being here on Earth wouldn't make him feel any more wanted, he amended -- but it would give him a sense of belonging.

That was strange, really, considering that others of his race had always been so xenophobic. But he loved humans; he found a lot of things about them completely annoying, true, but still, they were one of the most interesting races he'd ever come across.

And they could be so .... so utterly brilliant in so many ways. Some of them were morons, yes -- but so many of them had progressed past the sum of their parts and truly risen above what they'd been meant to be. Humans had always been such a source of fascination for him.

It didn't hurt that he looked completely human, either. There was really nothing outward about him to set him apart from them -- he could easily blend in, feel as though he finally had a place to fit in and that he could feel at ease in. Earth was really the only place in the galaxy that he could have that sense of .... well, belonging.

He'd never really belong here, of course. Gallifrey was his home, but that was something he'd never be able to get back again. His home was long gone .... but he didn't want to think about, not now. It was a beautiful day, and he intended to enjoy it for as long as he could.

It was too bad that he didn't have money .... it would have been lovely to be able to go into one of those little coffee shops and sit down by the window, study the people as they walked by, make up stories in his head about who they were and what their lives were like. Oh, well. He'd have to do that sometime -- if he ever actually did have the money for it.

But even though he couldn't do that, he could still people-watch -- and that was always an endless source of amusement. He could sit down on that bench, lean back and enjoy the day, and watch the humans go by him. He could even indulge in his little pastime of storytelling about their lives -- even though his stories were probably further from the truth than he could imagine.

Making his way over to the bench that he'd spied near the entrace to the coffee shop he'd been looking at a bit longingly, the Doctor sat down, crossing his legs and raising his face to the sun. It would be a good way to pass a bit of time, at least. Innocuous, blending into the crowd.

Not that there was a crowd, actually. No, the street was fairly empty; the only people out were women pushing prams, and the occasional strangely-dressed university student.

But wait. Now, there was someone interesting. A tall, dark-haired man, very slender, with arresting dark eyes. The Doctor's eyes widened as his eyes took in the man, and he sat up a little straighter, squinting and raising a hand to shade his eyes from the sun. Was it his imagination, or did that man look a bit like .... himself?

He had to shake his head and squint again before he could focus on the man. No, he wasn't seeing things -- there was a marked resemblance between the two of them. It was uncanny, that a human could look so much like him. Not only the face, but the body, too.

Still, there were small differences. The hair, for one thing -- this man's hair didn't have that annoying tendency to stick up in the front, and it seemed a bit darker, too. And the eyes -- the eyes were stormy, angry, almost smoldering with some inner turmoil.

Hmmm. Why would this man look so angry? What had happened to put that scowl on his handsome features? Maybe it was none of his business -- but the Doctor was determined to find out. The worst this man could do was push him away and refuse to talk to him, right?

He was heading into the coffee shop, nearly throwing himself down into a chair by the window -- the very place that the Doctor had contemplated taking a seat before his abrupt realization that he was penniless. Now, if that wasn't a sign that he should talk to this man, nothing was.

The Doctor darted into the coffee shop before that little voice in the back of his head could convince him that it was a bad idea, sliding into the chair across the table from the interesting-looking man and giving him what he hoped would be interpreted as a friendly smile. "Hello."

The man's head jerked up, his dark eyes widening before narrowing again -- this time with a look of suspicion rather than anger. "Hello .... who the hell are you?"

"I'm the Doctor." He held out a hand, determined to draw this man into conversation. He couldn't say just why he wanted to; maybe it was because they looked so much alike, and he was intrigued enough by that small fact to want to find out more about who this man was. Or maybe it was just because he wanted to talk with someone.

He'd think about his motivations later. Right now, he wanted to strike up a conversation with this man, draw him out, maybe make that unflattering scowl go away from his face. He'd probably be incredibly attractive if he smiled. "And you are?" he inquired, raising his brows in question.

"Brendan. Brendan Block." The name was spoken absently, as though the man had something on his mind and whatever conversation he'd have with the Doctor was secondary to that.

"Well, Brendan Block, it seems that something has you up in arms. Want to talk about it?" the Doctor asked, hoping that his was the right approach to take.

Brendan shrugged, narrowing his eyes again as he looked at the Doctor. "It's a bit personal. Not something that I'd want to talk about with a stranger who I just met on the street. A stranger who, I might add, wasn't invited to coffee with me," he said pointedly, his own brows raised.

"Oh, I know I wasn't invited." The Doctor waved one thin hand in the air, as though disdaining the coffee shop and its inhabitants. "I thought you looked rather interesting -- and since there's a definite physical resemblance between us, I felt that I had to speak to you."

The other man looked him over critically, as though he was measuring the truth of the Doctor's words. "You're right about that -- we do seem to look a lot alike. That's unusual. I wouldn't have thought there was another man who looked like me in all the world. But you know what they say -- everyone has a doppelganger somewhere."

"Quite right." The Doctor nodded, though that was something he'd often wondered about. It seemed a bit too coincidental to be true -- and he'd learned not to trust coincidences. "You also seemed to be angry about something. I thought that you might want to talk it out, maybe get a bit of perspective on whatever's made you so upset."

"Nothing to talk about." Brendan's voice was still angry, almost a growl. "Nothing other than that my so-called girlfriend just gave me my walking papers. The bitch."

The Doctor's smile faded; so this man fancied women. He should have guessed. It would have been too good to be true to find out that he was unattached, interested, and that he might be looking for .... for what? A quick shag? He didn't want that.

No, what he wanted was a companion. Someone to come along with him in the Tardis, someone who would stay by his side and promise they would never leave. Someone who would actually keep that promise, and not disappear out of his life when they'd had enough.

And, truth be told, he was looking for more than that. He wanted someone to hold him at night. To be there for him, emotionally and physically. Someone to .... to love him.

"I .... I'm sorry," he finally managed to say, the tone of his voice much more subdued than it had been. "I wish there was something I could do to -- to fix things for you. Unfortunately, I don't know much about relationships with women." He shrugged, looking away. "My track record for any sort of relationship isn't exactly stellar."

Brendan had tilted his head to the side, studying the Doctor intently. When he spoke, his voice was more husky than it had been, more seductively pitched.

"I take that to mean that you don't have relationships with the opposite sex?" he inquired, leaning back in his chair. "I'm not averse to that myself. I think that I've probably been put off women for life, after that experience."

"Would you be interested in -- in spending some time with me?" the Doctor blurted out, then shut his mouth with a snap. Had he really said that? The words had just tumbled out, without him thinking about them. He was almost shocked that he'd actually asked Brendan the question.

The other man shrugged negligently, his eyes traveling over the Doctor's face again, then down his body. It was obvious what he was thinking; the idea made the Doctor shiver slightly, imagining those strong, capable-looking hands on his body. Not just that .... those fingers stroking his skin .... that mouth on his ....

With a shock, he realized that his gaze had been focused on Brendan's mouth, his own lips slightly parted, his breath hitching in his throat. He wanted this man. He had no idea just how he would talk Brendan into going with him when he left Earth, but he would -- somehow.

Hmmm. That could pose a slight problem. How was he going to tell this man that he wasn't human, that he was a traveler in time and space, and that he wanted Brendan to give up his life on Earth and come along with him? He would end up sounding like a completely daft bugger -- and Brendan would probably walk away as quickly as he could go.

The first thing to do was to get him to come to the Tardis with him. Then he could explain who and what he was -- and hope that Brendan would be intrigued enough to want to hear more.

"If you're interested in spending some time together, then that could definitely be arranged," Brendan was saying, leaning across the table towards the Doctor. "I'd quite like that." His knee brushed the Doctor's under the table, making the Time Lord jump.

"I-I'd like that, too," he managed to say. Brendan's knee pressing against his was making him forget what he wanted to say; actually, he couldn't think of anything but that vision he'd had of the two of them together, Brendan's hands on his body, that mouth kissing him.

Brendan raised his brows, a slow smile spreading over his face. "No time like the present," he said, reaching out and taking the Doctor's hand in his own to pull the other man to his feet. "Wherever you want to go, I'm game."

"Not too far from here," the Doctor murmured, leaning against Brendan a little. His knees felt weak; he almost didn't think he'd be able to lead this man back to the Tardis.

An arm slipped around his waist, pressing him closer against that thin body next to his. "Don't pass out on me before we get to where we're going," Brendan whispered into his ear, his tongue circling the sensitive shell of the Doctor's earlobe. "I don't fancy trying to have it off with an unconscious man. Not much fun for either of us."

The Doctor nodded, clearing his throat and heading towards the door of the coffee shop. He had no idea how he was going to explain all of this to Brendan -- but he'd manage somehow. He had to. He had a feeling that this man was someone he didn't want to let walk out of his life any time soon.

***

Next story in series - Come Away With Me.