Title: How You Remind Me
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Peter Carlisle
Fandom: Doctor Who/Blackpool
Rating: PG
Table: 50ficlets
Prompt: 8, History
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 Peter Carlisle. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor took Peter's hand as they wandered through the Louvre, not wanting to be separated from his lover. There was really no reason for him to feel anxious about that; it wasn't as though the museum was crowded, and they wouldn't get lost.

But he liked the feeling of having Peter close to him. And if anyone had a problem with two men holding hands and openly showing affection, well then, that as their problem. He wasn't going to worry about what anyone else might think.

Ah, the Mona Lisa. He stopped in front of the painting, admiring the enigmatic features of the woman on the canvas. It had always been one of his favorites.

Glancing over at Peter, he was disconcerted to realize that his lover was looking at him rather than at the famous work of art in front of them, a small smile on his lips. The Doctor turned to face him, smiling in return and raising an eyebrow in question.

"Is there something about me that makes me more interesting to look at than all this history around us?" he asked, waving an arm at the quiet gallery around them. "Is my hair sticking up in all directions, or do I have something on my face?"

Peter shook his head, the smile turning into a soft laugh. "Neither," he murmrued, squeezing the Doctor's hand as though to reassure him. "I just like looking at you. You're more of a work of art than all the paintings around us."

"But there's so much history here," the Doctor objected, shaking his head. "I could never be nearly as interesting as what's all around us in this building."

"You're wrong about that," Peter told him with a soft smile. "You're over 900 years old, Doctor. There's a history about you that's far more interesting than all the art in the world. Just listening to you talk about some of the things you've done is a history lesson."

The Doctor couldn't help feeling pleased at Peter's words. He didn't mind having his lover refer to his age -- after all, he looked pretty good for being over 900 years old. And it was gratifying to know that the man he loved found his exploits interesting.

"In some ways, you remind me of my own personal history, too," Peter said, sighing softly. "We've both been alone for so much of our lives -- and we've both been disappointed in the past. There are so many parallels in our lives, even though we've lived them very differently."

The Time Lord couldn't help but agree with that statement; when he thought about it, there were many similarities in the paths their lives had followed.

"But we're not alone any more, either of us," he whispered, twining his fingers more firmly through Peter's. "You don't have to worry about history repeating itself, Peter. I'm not going to leave you. That's one thing you can be absolutely sure of."

"I know that," Peter answered, the pressure of his hand reassuring and calming. "It's just .... thinking about my past history reminds me of the people who've left. They always said the same thing -- but I know I can trust you more than I ever could anyone else."

"Yes, you can," the Doctor told him, his voice soft and husky. He knew how Peter felt; he'd heard those words from people before, too. He'd believed those words, and had always been let down. Until he'd met the man standing beside him now.

Peter was unlike anyone else in his past. He might remind the Doctor of some situations he'd been in, but he'd make sure they were never repeated.

They continued their walk through the museum, looking up at the paintings on the walls, studying the sculptures around them as they walked. The Doctor couldn't help watching Peter surreptitiously, wondering just what his lover was thinking.

Had he done something like this with anyone from his past? Peter was a cultured man; he'd obviously been to museums and art galleries before. Was there a point in his life where he'd shared this kind of thing with someone he'd loved?

That didn't matter, the Doctor told himself firmly. They both had personal histories; neither of them could expect the other to have come to the point they were at in their lives without having something of a past. He had no reason to be jealous.

And Peter's history wasn't the important thing, he reminded himself. What mattered was their present -- and their future. A future that they would share.

Peter's past might remind him of his own in some ways; but that was a good thing. He could compare what he had now with the past, and know that he was a lucky man. He was happier than he'd ever been, and that happiness showed no signs of fading.

Their histories were very different -- as they had to be. But in some ways, they were very similar; they'd both been disappointed in love, and they'd both rallied and come back from that find each other. In that respect, they'd gotten a second chance. And he meant to make the most of it.

Moving closer to his lover, he slipped an arm around Peter's waist, leaning against the other man. He couldn't hold back a smile when Peter's arm wrapped around him, and they walked through the last room of the museum together, oblivious to the people around them.

***