Fic: Doctor Who - My Kingdom For A Screwdriver (Eleventh Doctor)
Title: My Kingdom For A Screwdriver
Fandom: Doctor Who
Character/Pairing: Eleventh Doctor
Rating PG13
Prompt: Eleven stranded at a gay bar. Exactly what it says on the tin. Oh, and he gets hit on relentlessly. - eleventy_kink
Warnings: Suggestiveness, sexual references.
“Where have we landed?” Rory asked, as the Tardis whooshed to a stop.
“Nowhere of great importance, I just need to find a screwdriver” He called up from under the consol.
“But you’ve got a screwdriver, remember Doctor? It’s ‘sonic’” Amy made a dramatic gesture with her hands, obviously mocking.
“Yes, well, I need a normal one. So I’ve done the best I could in these conditions and managed to land somewhere called ‘The Tool Box’. They must have a screwdriver with a name like that.” The Doctor nodded to himself and made his way to the doors.
When he opened them he wasn’t met with rows of shelves and garden furniture like he expected, he was met with thumping music and leather chairs.
“Erm, Doctor?” Amy asked, taking in men dancing together and many drinks in Martini glasses.
“It’s ok!” The Doctor shouted over the music. “We’re not on Earth! This must be how they go about planning D.I.Y on this planet!”
“Hello” A woman circled Amy; she looked almost human except for the fact her skin was purple. “Who are you?” She had a flirtatious grin on her face.
“Amy. Amy Pond” Amy shook a hand that lingered a little longer than expected. Rory was staring.
“Lovely. I’m Nyanfi, after the 4th moon. Can I buy you a drink?” She touched Amy lightly on the elbow, as if ready to steer her to the bar. Rory was still staring.
“No, I think we should be going” She pulled Rory’s arm.
“Surely it can’t hurt to...”
“Tardis, now.” She gave him a push back through the doors before turning to the Doctor.
“I think we’re going to wait inside, otherwise Rory is going to get slapped before the night is out. Are you coming?” She was half in the door.
“No, I need to find a screwdriver!” He mimed it out for good measure. Amy left him to it.
“Hello, gorgeous” A voice said, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned and was confronted by a bare chest, presumably attached to a man that must have been well over 6 feet tall.
“Hello...very tall” The Doctor beamed, friendliness always made him feel at home.
“Can I get you something?” The man asked.
“A screwdriver, if possible” He smiled again, maybe the man worked here.
“Coming right up” The man walked away and returned shortly with orange juice.
“Oh. Thank you.” The Doctor wasn’t thirsty but he was polite so he took a sip. “It tastes funny; I think it’s gone off. Thank you anyway” He handed the glass back to the man with a bemused smile. Obviously the man had misheard him.
As he walked through the crowd he was stopped again.
“Cute bowtie” Said a smaller, shyer man, dressed very much like himself.
“Thank you! That’s what I keep telling them, bowties are cool” He kept walking, unaware of the looks he was getting.
He made it to what he had to presume was an information point.
“Excuse me, can I have a screwdriver, please?”
“What kind, freshly squeezed or fizzy?” The man behind the counter asked.
“Erm, metal with one of those funny heads”
The man raised an eyebrow and gave him another glass of orange juice.
“I hear you’re asking after funny head?” The man next to him winked. The Doctor winked back although he had no clue what was wink worthy.
“Yes, they do have different ones don’t they? Awfully confusing. I need the long, flat kind” The Doctor said.
“Maybe I can help you there?” The Doctor jumped backwards when he felt his bum being pinched.
“Excuse me, that’s very forward! All I want is a simple screwdriver.”
“And you have one” The man pointed at his drink.
“No, a metal, put-up-your-shelves-with screwdriver. You’d think in a place named after an important element of D.I.Y, it wouldn’t be too difficult” He was starting to get exasperated.
“Sir, you are aware this is a bar?” Asked the man, who was obviously a barman.
“Is it?” The Doctor looked around. “I did think it was funny that there were no lawn mowers, you need a good lawn mower or you’ll have grass taller than you are”
“How could you not know it was a bar, could you not tell by the sign on the door?” The man who’d groped him a minute ago asked, stunned.
“No, you see I didn’t come from outside. I came in my ship”
“Hello, Sailor!” Someone nearby yelled before offering yet another drink.
“This really is getting ridiculous. Why does everyone keep insisting they buy me a drink?”
“You do realise it’s a rather specially inclined bar?” The barman asked.
“Oh, is it themed? I love to dress up; I’ve got an amazing hat collection. Hey, maybe someone’s dressed as a builder and they have a screwdriver!” The Doctor clapped his hands together.
“You can try asking but I doubt you’ll get anywhere” The barman shook his head and moved on to serve someone else.
The Doctor walked over to a podium where the music seemed to originate from.
“The man at the bar sent me, may I?” He stood up on the little stage and pushed buttons at random until the music stopped. “That’s better” He took a microphone from a stand.
“Excuse me, does anyone have a screwdriver that I can borrow. I’m having an emergency with some wires that I can’t get at. I keep landing on Wednesdays and it’s getting rather annoying.” He scanned about fifty blank faces. “No? Ok” He stepped down and made his way through an astonished crowd, back to the Tardis.
“Well?” Asked Amy as he walked in.
“Nope, people kept giving me dodgy orange juice and pinching me. Someone liked my bowtie though, see I was right.”
“Right.” Amy rolled her eyes. “Guess what I found while you were gone?” She held up an inevitable screwdriver.
“Ah. I feared that might happen. I thought I would have one somewhere, after all who screwed the panels up last time” The Doctor took it out of her hand and started work unscrewing some panels.
“Unbelievable” Amy muttered to herself.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Character/Pairing: Eleventh Doctor
Rating PG13
Prompt: Eleven stranded at a gay bar. Exactly what it says on the tin. Oh, and he gets hit on relentlessly. - eleventy_kink
Warnings: Suggestiveness, sexual references.
“Where have we landed?” Rory asked, as the Tardis whooshed to a stop.
“Nowhere of great importance, I just need to find a screwdriver” He called up from under the consol.
“But you’ve got a screwdriver, remember Doctor? It’s ‘sonic’” Amy made a dramatic gesture with her hands, obviously mocking.
“Yes, well, I need a normal one. So I’ve done the best I could in these conditions and managed to land somewhere called ‘The Tool Box’. They must have a screwdriver with a name like that.” The Doctor nodded to himself and made his way to the doors.
When he opened them he wasn’t met with rows of shelves and garden furniture like he expected, he was met with thumping music and leather chairs.
“Erm, Doctor?” Amy asked, taking in men dancing together and many drinks in Martini glasses.
“It’s ok!” The Doctor shouted over the music. “We’re not on Earth! This must be how they go about planning D.I.Y on this planet!”
“Hello” A woman circled Amy; she looked almost human except for the fact her skin was purple. “Who are you?” She had a flirtatious grin on her face.
“Amy. Amy Pond” Amy shook a hand that lingered a little longer than expected. Rory was staring.
“Lovely. I’m Nyanfi, after the 4th moon. Can I buy you a drink?” She touched Amy lightly on the elbow, as if ready to steer her to the bar. Rory was still staring.
“No, I think we should be going” She pulled Rory’s arm.
“Surely it can’t hurt to...”
“Tardis, now.” She gave him a push back through the doors before turning to the Doctor.
“I think we’re going to wait inside, otherwise Rory is going to get slapped before the night is out. Are you coming?” She was half in the door.
“No, I need to find a screwdriver!” He mimed it out for good measure. Amy left him to it.
“Hello, gorgeous” A voice said, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned and was confronted by a bare chest, presumably attached to a man that must have been well over 6 feet tall.
“Hello...very tall” The Doctor beamed, friendliness always made him feel at home.
“Can I get you something?” The man asked.
“A screwdriver, if possible” He smiled again, maybe the man worked here.
“Coming right up” The man walked away and returned shortly with orange juice.
“Oh. Thank you.” The Doctor wasn’t thirsty but he was polite so he took a sip. “It tastes funny; I think it’s gone off. Thank you anyway” He handed the glass back to the man with a bemused smile. Obviously the man had misheard him.
As he walked through the crowd he was stopped again.
“Cute bowtie” Said a smaller, shyer man, dressed very much like himself.
“Thank you! That’s what I keep telling them, bowties are cool” He kept walking, unaware of the looks he was getting.
He made it to what he had to presume was an information point.
“Excuse me, can I have a screwdriver, please?”
“What kind, freshly squeezed or fizzy?” The man behind the counter asked.
“Erm, metal with one of those funny heads”
The man raised an eyebrow and gave him another glass of orange juice.
“I hear you’re asking after funny head?” The man next to him winked. The Doctor winked back although he had no clue what was wink worthy.
“Yes, they do have different ones don’t they? Awfully confusing. I need the long, flat kind” The Doctor said.
“Maybe I can help you there?” The Doctor jumped backwards when he felt his bum being pinched.
“Excuse me, that’s very forward! All I want is a simple screwdriver.”
“And you have one” The man pointed at his drink.
“No, a metal, put-up-your-shelves-with screwdriver. You’d think in a place named after an important element of D.I.Y, it wouldn’t be too difficult” He was starting to get exasperated.
“Sir, you are aware this is a bar?” Asked the man, who was obviously a barman.
“Is it?” The Doctor looked around. “I did think it was funny that there were no lawn mowers, you need a good lawn mower or you’ll have grass taller than you are”
“How could you not know it was a bar, could you not tell by the sign on the door?” The man who’d groped him a minute ago asked, stunned.
“No, you see I didn’t come from outside. I came in my ship”
“Hello, Sailor!” Someone nearby yelled before offering yet another drink.
“This really is getting ridiculous. Why does everyone keep insisting they buy me a drink?”
“You do realise it’s a rather specially inclined bar?” The barman asked.
“Oh, is it themed? I love to dress up; I’ve got an amazing hat collection. Hey, maybe someone’s dressed as a builder and they have a screwdriver!” The Doctor clapped his hands together.
“You can try asking but I doubt you’ll get anywhere” The barman shook his head and moved on to serve someone else.
The Doctor walked over to a podium where the music seemed to originate from.
“The man at the bar sent me, may I?” He stood up on the little stage and pushed buttons at random until the music stopped. “That’s better” He took a microphone from a stand.
“Excuse me, does anyone have a screwdriver that I can borrow. I’m having an emergency with some wires that I can’t get at. I keep landing on Wednesdays and it’s getting rather annoying.” He scanned about fifty blank faces. “No? Ok” He stepped down and made his way through an astonished crowd, back to the Tardis.
“Well?” Asked Amy as he walked in.
“Nope, people kept giving me dodgy orange juice and pinching me. Someone liked my bowtie though, see I was right.”
“Right.” Amy rolled her eyes. “Guess what I found while you were gone?” She held up an inevitable screwdriver.
“Ah. I feared that might happen. I thought I would have one somewhere, after all who screwed the panels up last time” The Doctor took it out of her hand and started work unscrewing some panels.
“Unbelievable” Amy muttered to herself.