Title: Painted Desert
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Owen Harper
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Table: Cadenza challenge, 5_prompts
Prompt: First verse -- Listen as the wind blows
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 Owen Harper, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

"It's so peaceful here," the Doctor said, sighing softly as he looked out over the vista that presented itself to them. "So quiet. You can literally hear the wind blow by, it's so quiet. That's very different from the life we usually lead, isn't it?"

Owen nodded in agreement, leaning against the door of the Tardis and letting his gaze take in the sight in front of him. He'd seen pictures of the Grand Canyon and the Painted Desert, of course, but being here in person was completely different.

The colors, for one thing. They had never shown up like this in the pictures he'd seen -- even when he had seen films that had been made here, he'd never even guessed at the sheer scope and panorama of the place, let alone its magnificent wild beauty.

And the feeling that he had of being completely alone -- even though he knew that there might be other tourists nearby -- almost made him feel insignificant. It took a lot to make Owen Harper feel small, but if any place could do that, it was this one.

He could actually hear the wind blowing across the desert; it was almost an eerie sound, one that made him want to shiver and huddle inside his coat. It was a lonely sound, one that he didn't care to hear, and one that he'd never really heard before.

He'd never listened to things like that in the past. He had always tried to fill his life with sound and color and light; he'd gone to bars, to clubs, and any place that was full of people. He'd never listened to the sound of silence around him.

If he had, he knew that silence would have been deafening. But that was how he had wanted things -- he had discovered all too often that when he slowed down and actually listened to the quiet around him, it brought back memories he'd rather not face.

Too many times, that silence had become so loud it had almost screamed into his consciousness, reminding him of all that he'd had and lost. It had warned him against loving again, against letting anyone else get too close to his heart.

It had warned him against listening.

The wind here did the same thing. It warned him that it was dangerous to listen, dangerous to be here in this silence, to let it permeate his being. It was going to bring all those memories flooding back, make him feel even more alone than he ever had.

But this time he wasn't alone.

Owen looked over at the Doctor; the Time Lord was staring at the sunset, watching as the magnificent colors deepend over the stretch of land that the Tardis rested on. He seemed to be completely captivated by what he saw, to the exclusion of everything else around him.

But Owen wondered if that was really the case. The Doctor somehow knew how to listen, to tune out those voices that he didn't want to hear, the ones that made him think about the past -- or else, he heard those voices and simply ignored them.

How did he manage that? Owen wanted to ask, but he was afraid to. He didn't want the Doctor to think that he was unhappy with the life they were leading -- because, he wasn't. He'd never been more content in his life than he'd been since he and the Doctor had started their relationship.

The wind that blew past him seemed to carry whispers, bringing memories back to him with a ferocity that he hadn't felt in a very long time. Owen closed his eyes, trying to will those whispers away, not wanting to hear what the wind was trying to say to him.

Maybe he should listen, a little voice in the back of his mind whispered. Maybe if he listened as the wind blew past him, he would be able to put some of those memories to rest at long last. Maybe they would finally go away and leave him with a clean slate.

Could that ever happen, given his past? He didn't think so, but anything was possible.

Owen stole another look at the Doctor from under his lashes. He couldn't take his eyes from the other man, his profile framed against the brilliant colors of the sunset; he was sure that he'd never seen any sight so mesmerizing in his life.

He would never have thought that he could fall in love with a man -- but he had. One memory that he would treasure forever was their first kiss; another was the moment that he'd awakened in that hospital on New Earth to see the Doctor sitting there by his bedside.

This man had given him a second chance at life, a chance that the person he'd been hadn't really felt that he deserved. But he was doing his best to make up for some of the less palatable things he'd done; he wanted to be worthy of this chance, and the man who had given it to him.

"The Painted Desert is a place that I've always wanted to see, but I've never been here before," the Doctor murmured, glancing over at Owen. "I suppose that I wanted to wait to see it until I was with someone I love. It's a place meant for lovers, isn't it?"

Owen couldn't help smiling as he nodded in agreement. "Too bad it'll be too cold to make love out here in the sunset," he remarked, narrowing his eyes slightly as he looked towards the rapidly setting sun. "And I think we're a little late on that score, anyway."

"We don't have to make love, but we can do this," the Time Lord said softly, turning to Owen and holding out his arms. The other man moved into them, sliding his arms around the Doctor's slim waist and pulling him into a close embrace.

As their lips met, Owen could swear that he heard the wind blow a whisper past him again -- but this time, it wasn't a whisper of the past, of any regrets that might still be lingering. This time, it was a whisper that foretold of the future ahead of him.

There would be other visits to the Painted Desert -- and there would be time for them to make love here, under the brilliant colors of the setting sun. Time enough for them to come back to all this natural beauty time and time again, to enjoy it in their own way.

And he would make sure they came back here, Owen promised himself as the wind blew around them, a wind that no longer carried memories of the past in its touch. He would include this place in his plans for their future, and hope that they would be back again sooner rather than later.

***