Title: Spend My Life
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Owen Harper
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Table: 4
Prompt: 1, London
Author's Note: Continuation of A Whole New World.
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.

***

Owen looked around him as he and the Doctor strolled down the sidewalk, hoping that they wouldn't happen to run into anyone who recognized him. After all, this was his time period, and they were in London, where he'd lived for most of his life.

If he was completely honest, there was a part of him that missed some of the things he used to do in London. He'd had a life there that most people would have envied, a life that he'd worked hard for and that he'd enjoyed to the fullest.

But all that had changed when his fiancée had died and he'd started to work for Torchwood. He'd changed so much, and there had been no way that he could have ever gone back to the life that he'd had before -- or the person that he'd been.

Now, there was no need to. He'd died, and been brought back to life. The Doctor had given him a second chance, a chance that he didn't intend to waste.

Maybe anyone else would think it was a waste, Owen thought to himself, glancing at the tall man striding along beside him. But he didn't. He had more in his life now than he'd ever had before, even when he'd thought he had it all.

Was it just his imagination, or did the Doctor seem to care for him as more than just a friend or a companion? He'd caught the Time Lord looking at him when the other man thought he wouldn't notice, a kind of yearning look on his face.

He hadn't said anything about it; that would only have embarrassed the Doctor, and Owen was still cautious about doing or saying anything that might upset the other man .After all, the Doctor could ask him to leave the Tardis and take him back to Earth any time he wanted to.

When the Time Lord had said they were going to come back to 21st-century Earth, just for a quick visit, Owen had felt fear rise up in his throat, so thick that it almost seemed to choke him. He'd been certain that the Doctor meant to leave him there.

But he'd been quickly disabused of that notion. It turned out that the Doctor merely liked Earth, liked that part of its history, and that he'd wanted to spend a little time there. Owen couldn't for the life of him fathom what for, but everyone had their idiosyncracies.

He personally had no desire to go back to Earth; he felt that he'd left it behind, that there wasn't much for him there now. He didn't want to look back.

Besides, what was there to look back at? He'd never been much of a success in his first go-round with life. He'd been a good doctor, and he'd been useful with Torchwood. He really couldn't say very much else about himself that was good.

This was a chance that he wasn't going to back out of, a chance to make himself a better person than he'd wanted to be before all of the events of the past few months. He would be a fool to turn that chance down -- after all, second chances weren't given out every day.

It actually felt a little odd to be in London with the Doctor -- he hadn't been with the other man for too long, and he had a hard time picturing the Time Lord anywhere else but in the Tardis. But he seemed to be at home here, surprisingly enough.

Owen couldn't keep back a nagging sense of apprehension, a feeling that the Doctor might leave him here on Earth when he went back to the Tardis. He didn't think the other man wanted to do that, but he couldn't keep the thought pushed to the back of his mind.

He stole another surreptitious glance at the Time Lord; what was he thinking? Did he really want Owen to be his companion, or had he changed his mind? And what was the best way to find out without seeming as though he was prying?

All right, so maybe he'd be prying if he simply came right out with the question. He had the right to do it, didn't he? This was his future that hung in the balance.

How did he ask something like that? He had to phrase his thoughts carefully; this was something that could affect his entire future, and whatever relationship he might have with the Doctor in that future. He didn't want to screw it up.

He almost stopped walking when that thought struck him. Was he actually thinking of himself as having a relationship with the Doctor? He wanted to, he wasn't going to deny that. But the question was -- did the Doctor want that too?

The Time Lord had never given any indication that he was interested in Owen in that way -- well, none that were overt. Owen could swear that there had been something in the way the Doctor looked at him that spoke more than any words he could have said.

Owen took a deep breath, his mind racing, trying to think of just how to broach the subject with the Doctor -- then thought the better of it. Maybe he should wait until they were somewhere that was a little more private; this wasn't something he wanted other people to eavesdrop on.

Not that anyone would really understand what he was saying, he told himself with a mental snort. It wasn't as though anyone would believe that he'd died and been brought back to life, and that the man he was walking along the street with was a time-traveling alien.

Hell, he wouldn't have believed any of that was possible before he'd been a member of Torchwood. Now, he kept his mind open to any and all possibilities.

He wasn't going to ask now. It wasn't the time, or the place. Owen looked around them, a frown settling onto his features. He didn't want anyone to hear what he had to ask, but at the same time, he didn't want to leave it until after the Doctor had broken it to him that he was leaving.

"Are you going to leave me here when you go back to the Tardis?" He couldn't help it; the words just tumbled out, without any forethought. He could have cheerfully cut his tongue out, but the damage was already done. He'd spoken, and he couldn't take the words back.

The Doctor stopped in his tracks, turning to Owen with an astounded look on his face. His dark eyes were wide, his mouth literally dropping open. Owen observed the phenomenon with interest; he'd never actually seen anyone do that before.

"What would make you think that?" The Doctor's tone was shocked, incredulous. "Owen, I have no intention of leaving you anywhere. When I go back to the Tardis, you're coming with me. Why would I want to leave you here?"

Owen couldn't help but let out a huge sigh of relief; he'd been holding his breath for the last few seconds, as if it had been caught helplessly in his throat the moment he'd voice that question. "I-I don't know. But I thought that since were were here in London --"

He stopped abruptly, realizing how that sounded. He didn't want the Doctor to think that he'd expected to be abandoned.

The Doctor reached out to take his hand, squeezing it gently and shaking his head. "Owen, I just thought it might be nice for you to spend some time in your home city, the place you're used to. I have no intention of leaving you behind. Ever."

A wave of relief washed over him, almost making him feel weak in the knees. Reaching out to lay a hand on the Doctor's shoulder, his gaze met those dark eyes, unable -- and unwilling -- to look away. He wasn't going to be left behind. The Doctor didn't want to leave him. Thank goodness.

"I think we might have a lot to talk about when we get back to the Tardis," he finally managed to say, not caring if there was anyone around who could hear. What did it matter? His life wasn't here any more. It was with the Doctor.

It was a mistake for him to even think about looking back. His future was out in the stars, not here. London didn't hold any allure for him now -- all of his thoughts and dreams were focused on the life that lay ahead of him, not the one he'd left behind.

He wanted to spend his future life with the Doctor, for as long as he lived. He couldn't see himself wanting to do anything else but travel in time with this man -- and hopefully, their companionship would develop into something more over time.

That small, delicate hand was still in his own; Owen glanced down at their hands, surprised at how right it felt to have the Doctor's hand in his. He'd never had such a feeling of belonging, as if he'd finally found the person who was meant for him.

"I think you're right," the Doctor murmured, a pink flush spreading over his cheeks as their eyes met again. "There's a lot that we need to say to each other."

"I couldn't agree more. So .... let's get back there, all right?" Owen told him, his fingers tightening around the Doctor's. He couldn't wait to get back to the Tardis, away from all these prying eyes, so that they could have some privacy.

Why hadn't he realized just how he'd felt before? Maybe he'd been too dazed by the prospect of being alive again. But now he was himself -- or a newer, more enlightened version of himself -- and he knew what he wanted.

He wanted the Doctor. He wanted a life with this man. A life that they would build together, one that would last for a long time to come.

And judging from the look on the Doctor's face, the Time Lord wanted the same thing.

Owen turned back in the direction they'd come, slipping his arm around the Doctor's waist and pulling the other man close to him as they walked along. He had the feeling that this was the beginning of the rest of his life, and he couldn't wait for it to get started.

***