Title: Wait For An Answer
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Owen Harper
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG-13
Table: 30_forbidden
Prompt: 21, Wait
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.

***

Why did it always feel like he was forced to wait for what he most wanted?

He'd never been a patient man, the Doctor thought, gritting his teeth and trying not to slam his fist down ont othe console of the Tardis. But this waiting was going to drive him to distraction, he was sure. He didn't think he could deal with it for much longer.

Usually, when he asked someone if they were interested in being his companion and they didn't reply immediately -- or within a reasonable amount of time -- he'd politely say goodbye and be on his way. He didn't spend time trying to convince them.

After all, he reasoned with himself, if someone needed that much convincing, then they really weren't the right sort of person.

He was usually good at finding people who would want to spend their time with him. Martha had been one, and so had Donna -- even though she'd turned him down at first. The two of them had been like sisters to him; they'd been good people to have as companions.

The Time Lord winced at the thought, quickly pushing it out of his head. Well, things had been good as far as companionship went with Martha, until she'd taken it into her head that she was in love with him and had demanded more than he could give.

If only she'd been able to understand that he didn't feel that way about her, they could probably have kept their friendship for much longer than they had.

He shrugged, pushing the memory of their last meeting away from him. Even though he would always consider her a friend, he could never feel free and easy around her again. Knowing what her feelings were, he would always be uncomfortable in her presence.

Or, rather, what she thought they were, he corrected himself, with a grimace. Just like the companion before her, who'd mistaken a need for a father figure for loving him -- and had made him recoil in horror.

Of all the things he was, he wasn't an interstellar pedophile! He backed away from that idea as quickly as he could, repulsed by the very thought that she could have thought he would ever lower himself to think of her as more than the child she was.

But now .... he'd met the person he thought would be most suited for him as a companion, someone who he'd been sure would want to take up that position.

And though he hadn't been turned down, he'd been told that they weren't sure about what he offered them -- and that he needed to wait and let them think it over. It was frustrating in the extreme, but here he was, waiting as he'd been requested to do.

Why was he doing this? With anyone else, he would have already left and forgotten them.

All right, maybe not forgotten, but he wouldn't have let himself dwell on the fact that someone hadn't wanted to be with him. After all, there were untold numbers of prospective companions in the world, and he was sure to find someone.

This person was special, he told himself for what felt like the hundredth time -- no, more like the thousandth. He was someone the Doctor could depend on, someone who had a taste for adventure, someone who would fit into his life.

Someone who could be trusted, as well. Jack had told him that; in fact, Jack had been the one to suggest that this man could be a good fit for what the Doctor needed.

When he'd asked Jack just why he'd seemed so eager to recommend this man as a companion, the immortal had shrugged and let his eyes rest on the one who was being discussed without their knowledge, looking down on him from the windows of his office.

"I'd hate to lose him," the immortal had said, his gaze moving back to the Doctor's face and locking with the Time Lord's. "But he needs more than this. He's great here -- but he's capable of so much more. And I think he needs what you could give him."

The Doctor had followed Jack's eyes with his own when they'd drifted back down to the scene in the Hub below them, his gaze fixing on Owen. The young man was studying some papers at his desk intently, a frown on his face.

"You're attracted to him, aren't you?" Jack asked, the words less a question than a statement.

He'd looked at the other man, so startled that he hadn't been able to dissimulate. He'd nodded before he had realized he was doing so, giving Jack an answer without meaning to and bringinga smile to the immortal's face.

"That's another reason I think he'd be good for you," Jack had told him, sighing. "I'd rather keep him here, but .... you need him. And I think there's something in him that needs you, even though he's not the kind of guy to admit he needs anybody."

It had taken him another day to do it, but he'd screwed up his courage and asked Owen if he would possibly want to be his companion. And now .... he could only wait.

That was the hardest part of this, the Doctor thought to himself. scowling as he leaned over the console, his eyes fixed on the readouts without really seeing them. The waiting, and not knowing if it had been in vain or not.

What would he do if Owen said no? He hadn't given that a lot of thought, but maybe he should.

Sighing, he closed his eyes, gripping the edge of the console. What could he do but go back out into time and space by himself? He wasn't going to push Owen into something he didn't want; he had to make the choice freely, of his own will.

Jack had suggested that he try to tempt the young man, but he wouldn't do that. He wanted Owen to make his own decision, free of any coercion.

And if he decided that his answer was no .... the Doctor sighed again, shaking his head. Then he would have to live with that decision, even though he felt that it would be the wrong one. For some reason, he felt that Owen belonged with him.

He didn't hear the footsteps behind him; he didn't sense that the door of the Tardis had been opened and that someone had moved behind him even as he stood there contemplating what his future could be if Owen's answer was no.

He was startled to feel a hand on his shoulder, to hear a soft voice speaking behind him. How had anyone gotten into the Tardis? Surely she hadn't let someone in?

The Doctor spun around to see Owen standing there, a slight smile on his lips and a questioning expression in his eyes. Apparently, the Tardis had let him in; that was just one more proof to the Time Lord that this young man should be with him.

"I'm here," Owen told him, his gaze locking with the Doctor's. "If you still want me, that is."

The Doctor couldn't keep a smile from spreading over his face; holding it back was an impossibility. Owen had made his choice -- the right one for both of them.

"Of course I do," he murmured, resisting the urge to hold his arms out to this young man. There was plenty of time for that later, once they'd gotten to know each other better. But he sensed that Owen had the same expectation about him that the Doctor held in his hearts.

They were going to be close -- very close. He could see the promise in Owen's dark eyes, feel it in the way that gaze assessed him, took him in as though Owen was trying to look past the surface to determined what went deeper than first glance.

The waiting was over. He had his answer, and it was the one he'd wanted. He only hoped that he could make sure Owen never came to regret giving him that answer.

***