Title: Stripped
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Rating: PG
Table: 1, 50ficlets
Prompt: 41, Stripped
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 Jack Harkness. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor swallowed hard, trying to push back the lump of apprehension and -- what was it, fear? Yes, that was fear, all right -- that had taken up permanent residence in the region of his throat and refused to go away.

He'd never felt so stripped of all pride, all pretensions. Here he was, standing in front of the Hub, staring up and wondering if Jack knew he was there.

What had he said when Jack had left? They'd been words of anger, words that he now wished he could take back, make them unsaid and make the relationship that he'd had with Jack go back to the way it had been.

"It was never much to me." Those had been his exact words when Jack had turned away from him. And the other man hadn't looked back when he'd walked out of the Tardis; the Doctor knew that those words had been the death knell for whatever Jack had felt for him.

Or had they been? Was there still some slight chance that he could repair what he'd broken? If there was, then he was determined to take it. He'd made a mistake to let Jack walk out of his life like that, and he knew it now.

If Jack still had any glimmer of feeling left for him that extended beyond friendship, he had to know. He had to find out if there was still a chance, no matter how slim it might be.

And if there wasn't a chance, if Jack had decided to keep him at arm's length and be nothing but a distant friend .... well, then, he had to know that, too. He had to let the hope that they could rekindle their relationship die if it wasn't going to happen.

But he wasn't going to give up hope. Not yet. He couldn't bring himself to extinguish that little spark in him that was still reaching out to Jack, to brutally smother the flame that he was sure would roar to life between them when they saw each other again.

Maybe he should have told Jack that he was coming. No, that would have made Jack run the other way. It was better to just show up, to at least have the element of surprise on his side.

Jack probably wouldn't want him here. Jack would come up with some excuse to leave the Hub, to leave him there with people he barely knew, to make awkward conversation and then leave with all of his hopes unfulfilled. It wasn't going to work ....

The Doctor shook his head, forcing those thoughts away. They weren't any help; they were only making him feel less sure of himself, taking away his confidence and making him feel small and insignificant. That was the last thing he needed at the moment.

He took a deep breath, looking up at the Hub again. How long was it going to take him to gather his courage and go inside? He knew how to get in, of course; and even if he didn't, there was always the trust sonic screwdriver to assure him of a way into those sacred precincts.

So why was he standing here on the pavement, looking and not doing? Why wasn't he on his way in, ready to see Jack, to lay his feeling bare before the other man?

Because he was afraid to, that was why, the Doctor told himself with an inward sigh. He was afraid that Jack was going to politely but firmly tell him that it was over, that there was no place for the Doctor in his life, and ask him to leave.

He couldn't bear that. He couldn't bear losing Jack again, having him turn away fro a second time. With anyone else, it wouldn't have been this hard .... but this wasn't anyone else. This was Jack. The man he loved with all of his hearts and soul.

What was he going to do if that mental image turned into a real one? Would he be able to walk out of there without breaking down? He wasn't sure that he could.

There would be no choice, the Doctor told himself firmly, trying to get a grip on his emotions. He cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and took a step forward --

Only to feel a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

And a moment later, a voice that he'd only heard in his dreams for the last several months sounded in his ears, a voice that was welcomed, and yet terrifying at the same time. The voice that he'd wanted to hear for so long, and had been so afraid that he never would.

"Fancy seeing you here," Jack said, his voice compelling, curious and strangely sensual all at the same time. "It looks like we've got things to talk about."

That voice stripped the Doctor of all pride, all capacity he might have had for holding back. He turned to look at the other man, his voice almost failing him when his dark eyes met the strong, steady gaze that was regarding him.

"Jack," he murmured, unable to make another word come from his suddenly paralyzed throat.

***