Title: Narrow Escapes
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 30_forbidden
Prompt: 18, Escape
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the Tenth Doctor. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor sank down onto the couch in the control room of the Tardis, looking around him. He'd always loved the control room; it was efficient, but it was also the heart of the Tardis, the one entity he knew that he could always depend on.

He'd long since learned not to depend on people -- they would always let him down. Time and time again, he'd put his trust in people, and while many of them had earned that trust and lived up to it, even more of them hadn't.

Then, of course, there were the ones who had been good friends, who he'd cared about -- and who hadn't been satisfied with what he could give them. They'd wanted more than he was willing to give, and had refused to believe that he wouldn't break down and give them what they wanted.

Yes, he'd been sad to see them leave his life -- but relieved at the same time. Finally, he wouldn't be pushed to do and say things he didn't mean.

To his credit, he'd never done those things. He'd never led anyone on, given them false hope. The hopes they'd built up surrounding him had all been in their own minds; if they hadn't managed to realize that, then it was their own fault.

The Doctor shivered as he thought of those people, the ones who'd crowded too close, who'd tried to force him into giving them something they didn't want. They'd had his affection; he'd cared for them as he would care for family members. But they had wanted more -- and that had made him more relieved than sad when they'd parted.

Of course there was sadness. They'd been his friends, and they'd risked a great deal for him. He'd always care about them -- as family, as friends. Nothing more. Never as lovers, which was what they'd wanted and could never have.

He'd had a narrow escape from them both, particularly one of them. But at least he was safe now; they were in two different worlds, and he didn't have to continually dodge the attempts to force him into a relationship he recoiled from with every fiber of his being.

That had been a time of adjustment in his life -- he was getting used to having a new body, and also becoming accustomed to feeling that he was attractive. He'd never really felt that way about the bodies he'd had before.

Well, all right, so the last two leading up to this one hadn't been bad. But this body .... it was one he could happily stay in forever.

He liked looking in the mirror when he shaved every morning. He liked taking a shower and being able to touch himself. Maybe that was strange, and even vain, but he was fairly sure that anyone who had an attractive body took pleasure in it.

There was certainly nothing wrong with that, he told himself. He'd never had a body that he'd liked as much as this one -- and he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep it indefinitely, as much as he wanted to. So he intended to enjoy it while he could.

But he wasn't going to indulge in any kind of physical relationship that he didn't want. And there had been far too many people who'd been attracted to this body and who had wanted him to do just that, even when he'd given them a firm no on the subject.

He really couldn't blame those women for being attracted to this body, not if he was honest with himself. He'd be attracted to it himself -- if it wasn't his. Was that narcissistic? Of course it was, but really, he didn't care.

Even the Master had been more attracted to him since he'd been in this body. The other man had admitted it -- had even tried to flirt with him. And since he'd been without a companionless, he'd done much more than that. The Doctor didn't bear physical scars from those encounters, but he knew that the emotional scars would take a long time to heal.

If they ever did. That was another narrow escape he'd had -- actually, several narrow escapes. In the time that he'd been in this body and traveling alone, he'd seemingly managed to thwart plans that the Master had for him more times than he ever had in the past.

In fact, he'd encountered the Master many more times in this body than he had before. Was that some strange quirk of fate, or was it a calculated move on the other man's part?

Maybe that was something he'd have to ask the Master at their next meeting -- that is, if he was given the opportunity to speak at all. Too often, when the two of them met face to face, he ended up with a gag in his mouth and the Master did all the talking.

He'd had so many narrow escapes when it came to the Master, the Doctor thought, wincing inwardly. It was just that the encounters in the time he'd had this body had turned .... much more sexual than they'd ever been before.

The reason behind that was obvious. The Master had always been determined to control him, to exercise his complete domination of the Doctor. And that was one way for him to do it -- the best way, really, the easiest way to break him down.

But he hadn't broken, he told himself firmly. He never would. The Master could torture him all he wanted -- he'd never give in. Though he'd been at the breaking point many times, he'd always puled himself back from that edge, never letting himself tumble over.

Which escapes had been the more important ones -- escaping from the Master who wanted to control and dominate him, or from the women who'd seemed determined to do the same thing?

He couldn't help but smile and shake his head at the thought. Really, it had all been a test of his will -- trying to best the Master, and being sure that he didn't give in to the people in his past who'd tried to force him into something he didn't want.

Why couldn't they have accepted the fact that he simply didn't feel that way about them? The Doctor sighed, thinking back over that part of his life in this body. It was a shame that they hadn't been able to come to terms with his preferences -- but that was how some people were. They couldn't accept that they couldn't have what they wanted.

Ah, well, that was in the past now. And he would be much more careful in his search for his next companion -- if he even took one on. At the moment, he was convinced that he was better off alone, even if the loneliness ate into his soul at times.

But he could live with that loneliness. After all, when he was alone, the only escape he had to worry about making was from his enemies, and that certainly made life much easier -- and much less stressful.

The Doctor couldn't keep a rueful little smile from spreading across his features. Lonely he might be, but he was free from encumbrances. And for now, that was exactly the way he wanted his life to be. That probably wasn't going to change for a very long time.

He wasn't sure if that attitude was just one more way of escaping -- this time, from himself and his own needs. But if it was, he was doing a very good job of it -- and he had no intention of examining his motives too closely. There was too good a chance that he wouldn't like what he saw.

***