Title: Spice It Up
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jethro Cane
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1, prompt_palooza
Prompt: 50, Anti-Climactic
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 Jethro Cane. Please do not sue.

***

Jethro sighed and rested his chin on his hand, his eyes wandering around the control room of the Tardis. He hated feeling bored; he wasn't often in that state with the Doctor, but at the moment, he couldn't think of a single thing that he had to do.

Somehow, after one of their little "adventures," as the Doctor called them, everything always seemed like an anticlimax. It was a jolt to go back to what he could consider a "normal" life after he'd been embroiled in a situation that he'd never have imagined in his wildest dreams.

Well .... at least as "normal" a life as he could call what he shared with the Doctor, he amended with a slight smile. Really, this was as far from normal as he could get. It wasn't like everyone went around in a spaceship that traveled in time and space.

He'd never have believed that anything like this was possible before he'd met the Doctor for the second time. When he'd first known the Time Lord -- during that perilous train trip across Midnight -- he'd never have thought it was possible then.

But he'd been so innocent then, so naive, Jethro told himself, sighing again. He didn't miss the person he'd been; and there were times when he was still ashamed of himself for the way he'd acted on that train trip.

He had almost joined his father in trying to throw the Doctor out of the train to his death. He'd almost made the biggest mistake of his life.

That was something he'd remember for the rest of his life -- a guilt he was sure he'd never be able to completely assuage. Even though the Doctor didn't hold it against him, Jethro couldn't help holding his actions against himself.

Hadn't he proven to himself that he wouldn't have done what his father wanted him to, even if he'd been pushed? He'd spent the last few months protecting the Doctor, risking his own life to preserve that of the Time Lord.

It would never be good enough for him, Jethro thought, closing his eyes and firmly pushing away the visions that came into his mind's eye -- visions of the Doctor desperately trying to scream, to do anything that would stop those people from throwing him to his death.

And he'd just stood there, feeling helpless and useless, when he should have been helping the Doctor. He'd berate himself about that for the rest of his life; he'd never be able to forgive himself for not having been there for the Doctor when he was needed.

Of course, they hadn't been in a relationship then. He hadn't known the Doctor anywhere near as well as he did now, Jethro tried to protest. He hadn't known that this man would come back into his life -- or that the Time Lord would be the love of his life.

Still, he should have known that he was doing something wrong, that he had no right to follow his father blindly and condemn out of fear and anger.

His one saving grace was that he hadn't let his father push him into committing murder, Jethro thought, letting out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. He'd stood out against the mob mentality. He hadn't hurt anyone.

He would spend his entire life trying to make that up to the Doctor. He'd vowed that from the first time the other man had slept in his arms, after they'd met again on Midnight and he'd become the Doctor's lover, as well as his companion.

After that initial meeting, it felt exciting to slip into a relationship with a man he barely knew. He'd gone back to Midnight looking for the Doctor, but he hadn't actually that he would find the Time Lord again. He'd thought that he would be searching for his elusive mystery man all his life.

But by some fortuitous quirk of fate, the Doctor had been there -- and they'd bumped into each other in the street, literally. Well, not a real street -- the facsimile of one, in a place that was completely sealed into itself.

There had been a time when he'd thought that he would never have the courage to go back to that place, not after what his father had almost goaded him into doing. But he'd done it, and he'd never been so thankful for any action in his life.

If he'd never gone back, he'd never have been with the Doctor. He wouldn't have the life he had now -- and he wouldn't have fallen in love with an amazing man.

Or would he? Jethro mused, leaning back in the chair he was sitting in and clasping his hands behind his head. He'd often thought that his second meeting with the Doctor had been fated, that the two of them had been meant to be. Maybe that was true.

He'd never really know the answer to that, not really. Any more than he'd know the answer to why he always felt so let down after he and the Doctor were safely back in the Tardis after they'd been through something that could have ended both their lives.

Maybe it was because there was so much adrenaline rushing through him when he knew that the two of them were in some kind of danger, and when that danger was no longer there, restlessness took over. He couldn't say for sure.

Jethro shifted in the chair, sitting up and drumming his fingers on his thighs. Whatever the reason was, he couldn't keep acting like this. His attitude would be apparent to the Doctor all too soon, and he didn't want to give the Time Lord cause for worry.

He might be the empathic one, but the Doctor had an uncanny way of being able to read him like an open book. Even when the Time Lord wasn't reading his mind directly, he seemed to be able to look into his eyes and know what he was thinking and feeling.

Speaking of the Doctor .... Jethro's gaze moved to the corridor that connected the control room to their bedroom, to see the Doctor standing there, leaning against the wall.

"I take it you're feeling a bit restless again," the Doctor murmured, coming into the room and taking a seat beside Jethro. "I suppose I can't blame you for that. After some of things we've dealt with, being here safely in the Tardis must seem .... dull."

Jethro started to shake his head; he didn't want the Doctor to think that he was dissatisfied with the life the two of them led. But he couldn't quite meet the Time Lord's eyes, and he knew that would tell the other man everything he needed to know.

"It's not .... dull, exactly," he tried to explain, wishing that he could find the words to express how he felt. "But there are times when I feel like I'm not much good here. I don't really do anything other than .... exist."

"I don't expect anything from you, Jethro," the Doctor said softly, turning to the young man and taking his hands in his own. "If you'd rather be somewhere else, then I won't keep you here. You're not a prisoner, you know. You have free will. You can go any time you choose to."

Jethro shook his head, appalled that the Doctor would even suggest such a thing. He couldn't leave the Time Lord; it would be easier to rip his heart from his chest and expect to live without it. Losing the Doctor would be infinitely worse than anything else he could experience.

"I could never leave," he whispered, his grip on the Doctor's hands tightening without realizing it. "I'd rather die than lose you."

"You won't lose me. I promise you that," the Doctor said softly, squeezing Jethro's hands. "I'm not going to live forever, obviously -- but I'm not in any hurry to regenerate, or to end my life. You'll be stuck with me for a long time to come."

"I get a little restless after we've been through some experience that I never thought could happen," Jethro admitted, his dark eyes meeting the Time Lord's gaze. "But that doesn't mean that I want to leave, Doctor -- or that I'm not happy being with you."

The Doctor nodded, a small smile curving his lips. "I understand just how you feel," he said with a nod. "Not having anything specific to do feels like a bit of a letdown, doesn't it? Especially when we accomplish something that we won't ever be recognised for."

Jethro shook his head, unable to keep himself from smiling in return when he saw the smile on the Doctor's face. "The only person I need any recognition from is you," he said, getting to his feet and pulling the Doctor up with him.

"You get that every time I think of everything you've done for me," the Time Lord told him, his voice husky with emotion. "And even if there's a bit of an anticlimax afterwards -- we can always think of something to do in private that will add some spice to our lives."

Jethro's smile grew into a grin; he seized the Doctor's hand, heading for the corridor that led to their bedroom and pulling the Time Lord along with him.

"I can think of plenty of things to do that can put some spice into our lives," he said, slipping his arm around the Doctor's slender waist. "And I think we should get started on them right away. It might take some time to get to all of them."

Was it just his imagination, or did the Doctor's pace pick up a bit when he spoke? Jethro followed the other man into their bedroom, already feeling his heartbeats quicken in anticipation.

***