![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Necessity
Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars/Torchwood
Characters: Gregor, Tosh, Martha
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Wars or Torchwood. Neither is my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When Gregor goes to Power Sliders to open he discovers Tosh and Martha already there...taking apart the kitchen droid and trying to fix Martha’s phone.
A/N: Written for the![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
intoabar ficathon with the prompt: Gregor walks into a bar and meets Tosh.
Warning: Mentions Borkus’ canon mistreatment of Gregor.
Necessity:
Gregor pushes open the back door to the diner while stifling a yawn. He closed last night and now he’s opening this morning. Borkus won't be in till at least the lunch rush, which leaves the breakfast rush to him and the unreliable kitchen droid.
He grabs the door before it can finish closing when he realizes the light in Borkus’ office is on. He frowns. He knows the light was off when he left. He shuts the door quietly and makes his way slowly through the kitchen, picking up a mop and a knife along the way. He flattens himself against the wall near the office and attempts to peek through the window that’s inlaid in the door. There’s a woman in there! She’s got the kitchen droid partly disassembled and she’s using the wires to...Gregor isn’t really sure what she’s trying to fix. It’s rectangular like a datapad, but too small to be a datapad.
She stifles a yawn before frowning down at the not-a-datapad. Gregor sighs then sets the mop against the wall. She sets what she’s working on down and leans back in the chair with a sigh. Gregor makes a deliberately noisy step towards the room. She whirls to her feet.
“Not going to hurt you, just came to open the diner,” Gregor says in a soothing voice before he carefully looks at her again. She’s lowering a weapon, but it doesn’t look like a blaster. Maybe it’s a slugthrower? Gregor’s fingers itch to take it apart and figure out how it works.
“Where are you?” Her voice is firm. There’s a small waiver, but it’s still mostly an authoritative question.
Gregor lowers the knife and slowly allows himself to come into view. She studies him quietly for a moment. He frowns at her. “What is that you're trying to fix?”
“Can you tell me where I am?”
Gregor tilts his head. She sounds lost and it reminds him of when he first woke up in Borkus’ care not knowing where he was or who he was. The only piece of his past that he has is his first name. “The town or the planet?”
There are footsteps and another woman steps into view. “Both would be helpful actually.”
Gregor looks from the first woman to the second.
“I’m Martha,” the new woman offers. “She’s Tosh.”
“Gregor.”
“So much for keeping watch,” Tosh mutters.
“I was up front. We locked the back door.”
“We think we locked the back door,” Tosh corrects. “Some of this technology is…”
“Yeah,” Martha agrees.
“I have the access code,” Gregor tells them, not entirely sure what they’re talking about. “The town is Pons Ora and the planet is Abafar, at least that’s what Mr. Borkus told me.”
“And who’s Mr. Borkus?” Martha asks.
“The owner of Power Sliders.”
“Power Sliders?” Tosh prods.
“The diner you're in,” Gregor answers. “How did you get here and you don’t know that?”
What if they’re like him and they don’t remember who they really are or where they’re from?
“We work for Torchwood, mainly monitoring a time rift in Cardiff,” Tosh tells him. “There was a surge of activity that we were having difficulty shutting down. I nearly had it, but then Martha and I got flung here.”
“Time rift?” Gregor repeats.
“There’s possibly an interdimensional competent as well,” Tosh says.
“That…” Gregor pauses to scratch the back of his head. “That sounds like a lot. I’ll make breakfast. Everything is easier once you’ve eaten.”
He checks his chrono. He did come in early enough to make himself breakfast and he still has time.
“One more question. Why are you destroying the kitchen droid?” Gregor asks.
“My phone isn’t working,” Martha tells him.
“Phone?”
“Communications device,” Tosh supplies.
Gregor nods. “And destroying the kitchen droid will help with that?”
“I just need a few things,” Tosh reassures. “Once we’ve got Martha’s friend on the way here I can put it back together.”
“Her,” Gregor corrects.
Tosh’s eyes widen. “You mean she’s sentient?”
Gregor shakes his head. “I don’t think so? Mr. Borkus says she isn’t.”
Martha crosses her arms. Tosh looks from the droid to him then back to the droid with horror on her face.
“Honestly I’m not sure she has a chance to develop a personality. Her power cell doesn’t hold a charge for very long. I only turn her on for the morning rush. She usually has to shut down again before Mr. Borkus even makes it in for the lunch rush,” Gregor tries to reassure.
“I’ll look at her power cell after I get her put back together,” Tosh decides as she frowns down at the droid. “We still have to get ahold of the Doctor and see if he can come pick us up.”
“He will,” Martha insists.
“A doctor?” Gregor asks, trying not to feel hope. He’s never even been to one, but if someone could look at his head. Who is he kidding? He doesn’t have the credits. He can’t even pay for his own pest ridden apartment.
Martha is suddenly studying him carefully as she asks, “Do you need a doctor?”
Gregor deflates and shakes his head. “Couldn’t pay for one even if I did.”
“I’m a doctor,” Martha tries to reassure. “Are you hurt?”
Gregor shrugs. “I’m better than when Mr. Borkus found me.”
Martha frowns. Gregor sighs and scrubs a hand over his face before he turns back to the kitchen. He hears Tosh set her slugthrower down and get back to work. Martha follows him into the kitchen. Gregor puts the knife away and then washes his hands before he starts making them all toast and eggs.
“Thanks for not turning us in to the authorities,” Martha tells him.
“The clankers?” Gregor wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t.”
“Clankers?”
“Metal heads? B1 battle droids? Separatists?” Gregor tries.
Martha just shakes her head.
“They’d ask me for ID, which I don’t have, and besides you’re just lost and looking to go home,” Gregor reasons.
“Still, thanks,” Martha tells him, before asking, “Why don’t you have an ID?”
Gregor shrugs as he continues to cook. “Mr. Borkus pulled me out of the wreckage of my ship. I don’t even remember crashing, just waking up on Mr. Borkus’ couch no idea how I got there or who I am.”
“What did a doctor say?” Martha pushes. “What tests did they run?”
Gregor snorts. “No tests or a doctor. Mr. Borkus took care of me until I was up and moving and then he gave me a job here. It doesn’t even pay enough to cover the apartment I’m staying in so Mr. Borkus takes care of the rest of it.”
Martha’s eyes narrow. “So why doesn’t he just pay you more?”
Gregor shrugs as he plates up their food. He pauses at the door to the office to tell Tosh. “Breakfast is ready.”
He carries the plates to the counter and then asks them what they’d like to drink. They exchange a look, say something about unfamiliar surroundings, but then eventually accept bottled water. Gregor gets himself a glass of juice and sits down. Gregor keeps an eye on his chrono as he eats. Mr. Borkus probably won’t be upset about the extra eggs or bread, but he will be upset if Gregor is late opening the diner. Martha and Tosh have a low conversation as they eat.
He takes their dishes when they’re done and settles them near the sink, before he starts in on the morning routine. He’s really not looking forward to handling the morning rush by himself, but it wouldn’t be the first time and he suspects it won’t be the last either.
“Would you be interested in coming with us,” Martha says as she starts washing the dishes.
“I can get that later,” Gregor tries to reassure.
“I can get these,” she says. “The Doctor will probably ask a ton of questions when he’s here. He’ll probably want to know what that ship in low orbit is.”
“I don’t know,” Gregor answers. “The clankers haul all the rhydonium up there. No one knows why they need so much. It’s not even a good practice to have that much on one ship. It’s highly explosive.”
Martha frowns. “Could they be wanting to blow something up?”
“They’ll probably blow their ship up first,” Gregor mutters. There’s something vaguely familiar about the ship, but he can’t place it.
“So he’ll probably want to address that first when he gets here,” Martha reassures. “After though he can scan you and if he doesn’t have the right equipment I’m sure he’ll take us somewhere that does.”
“I told you I don’t have the credits.”
“We’re not asking for credits.”
Gregor stares at Martha.
“We won’t ask for credits,” Tosh reiterates before she’s handing Martha her phone. As Martha heads to the dining room the kitchen droid rolls into the kitchen. Tosh grins. “I think I solved your power cell issue.”
“Really?” Gregor boggles. “You should charge Mr. Borkus credits, not that he won’t find a reason you owe him.”
“I’m not liking this Mr. Borkus,” Tosh scowls. “I think you should at least let Martha and the Doctor take a look at you.”
“How long do you think it’ll take him to get here?”
There’s a loud grinding noise and a whoosh of air. Tosh just grins at him. Gregor’s eyes widen. Tosh holds out her hand. “Ready for an adventure?”
Nodding Gregor takes her hand. Maybe he’ll find out who he is or maybe he’ll find out where he belongs, but either way he’s ready.
Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars/Torchwood
Characters: Gregor, Tosh, Martha
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Star Wars or Torchwood. Neither is my toy box and I'm merely playing.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When Gregor goes to Power Sliders to open he discovers Tosh and Martha already there...taking apart the kitchen droid and trying to fix Martha’s phone.
A/N: Written for the
intoabar ficathon with the prompt: Gregor walks into a bar and meets Tosh.Warning: Mentions Borkus’ canon mistreatment of Gregor.
Necessity:
Gregor pushes open the back door to the diner while stifling a yawn. He closed last night and now he’s opening this morning. Borkus won't be in till at least the lunch rush, which leaves the breakfast rush to him and the unreliable kitchen droid.
He grabs the door before it can finish closing when he realizes the light in Borkus’ office is on. He frowns. He knows the light was off when he left. He shuts the door quietly and makes his way slowly through the kitchen, picking up a mop and a knife along the way. He flattens himself against the wall near the office and attempts to peek through the window that’s inlaid in the door. There’s a woman in there! She’s got the kitchen droid partly disassembled and she’s using the wires to...Gregor isn’t really sure what she’s trying to fix. It’s rectangular like a datapad, but too small to be a datapad.
She stifles a yawn before frowning down at the not-a-datapad. Gregor sighs then sets the mop against the wall. She sets what she’s working on down and leans back in the chair with a sigh. Gregor makes a deliberately noisy step towards the room. She whirls to her feet.
“Not going to hurt you, just came to open the diner,” Gregor says in a soothing voice before he carefully looks at her again. She’s lowering a weapon, but it doesn’t look like a blaster. Maybe it’s a slugthrower? Gregor’s fingers itch to take it apart and figure out how it works.
“Where are you?” Her voice is firm. There’s a small waiver, but it’s still mostly an authoritative question.
Gregor lowers the knife and slowly allows himself to come into view. She studies him quietly for a moment. He frowns at her. “What is that you're trying to fix?”
“Can you tell me where I am?”
Gregor tilts his head. She sounds lost and it reminds him of when he first woke up in Borkus’ care not knowing where he was or who he was. The only piece of his past that he has is his first name. “The town or the planet?”
There are footsteps and another woman steps into view. “Both would be helpful actually.”
Gregor looks from the first woman to the second.
“I’m Martha,” the new woman offers. “She’s Tosh.”
“Gregor.”
“So much for keeping watch,” Tosh mutters.
“I was up front. We locked the back door.”
“We think we locked the back door,” Tosh corrects. “Some of this technology is…”
“Yeah,” Martha agrees.
“I have the access code,” Gregor tells them, not entirely sure what they’re talking about. “The town is Pons Ora and the planet is Abafar, at least that’s what Mr. Borkus told me.”
“And who’s Mr. Borkus?” Martha asks.
“The owner of Power Sliders.”
“Power Sliders?” Tosh prods.
“The diner you're in,” Gregor answers. “How did you get here and you don’t know that?”
What if they’re like him and they don’t remember who they really are or where they’re from?
“We work for Torchwood, mainly monitoring a time rift in Cardiff,” Tosh tells him. “There was a surge of activity that we were having difficulty shutting down. I nearly had it, but then Martha and I got flung here.”
“Time rift?” Gregor repeats.
“There’s possibly an interdimensional competent as well,” Tosh says.
“That…” Gregor pauses to scratch the back of his head. “That sounds like a lot. I’ll make breakfast. Everything is easier once you’ve eaten.”
He checks his chrono. He did come in early enough to make himself breakfast and he still has time.
“One more question. Why are you destroying the kitchen droid?” Gregor asks.
“My phone isn’t working,” Martha tells him.
“Phone?”
“Communications device,” Tosh supplies.
Gregor nods. “And destroying the kitchen droid will help with that?”
“I just need a few things,” Tosh reassures. “Once we’ve got Martha’s friend on the way here I can put it back together.”
“Her,” Gregor corrects.
Tosh’s eyes widen. “You mean she’s sentient?”
Gregor shakes his head. “I don’t think so? Mr. Borkus says she isn’t.”
Martha crosses her arms. Tosh looks from the droid to him then back to the droid with horror on her face.
“Honestly I’m not sure she has a chance to develop a personality. Her power cell doesn’t hold a charge for very long. I only turn her on for the morning rush. She usually has to shut down again before Mr. Borkus even makes it in for the lunch rush,” Gregor tries to reassure.
“I’ll look at her power cell after I get her put back together,” Tosh decides as she frowns down at the droid. “We still have to get ahold of the Doctor and see if he can come pick us up.”
“He will,” Martha insists.
“A doctor?” Gregor asks, trying not to feel hope. He’s never even been to one, but if someone could look at his head. Who is he kidding? He doesn’t have the credits. He can’t even pay for his own pest ridden apartment.
Martha is suddenly studying him carefully as she asks, “Do you need a doctor?”
Gregor deflates and shakes his head. “Couldn’t pay for one even if I did.”
“I’m a doctor,” Martha tries to reassure. “Are you hurt?”
Gregor shrugs. “I’m better than when Mr. Borkus found me.”
Martha frowns. Gregor sighs and scrubs a hand over his face before he turns back to the kitchen. He hears Tosh set her slugthrower down and get back to work. Martha follows him into the kitchen. Gregor puts the knife away and then washes his hands before he starts making them all toast and eggs.
“Thanks for not turning us in to the authorities,” Martha tells him.
“The clankers?” Gregor wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t.”
“Clankers?”
“Metal heads? B1 battle droids? Separatists?” Gregor tries.
Martha just shakes her head.
“They’d ask me for ID, which I don’t have, and besides you’re just lost and looking to go home,” Gregor reasons.
“Still, thanks,” Martha tells him, before asking, “Why don’t you have an ID?”
Gregor shrugs as he continues to cook. “Mr. Borkus pulled me out of the wreckage of my ship. I don’t even remember crashing, just waking up on Mr. Borkus’ couch no idea how I got there or who I am.”
“What did a doctor say?” Martha pushes. “What tests did they run?”
Gregor snorts. “No tests or a doctor. Mr. Borkus took care of me until I was up and moving and then he gave me a job here. It doesn’t even pay enough to cover the apartment I’m staying in so Mr. Borkus takes care of the rest of it.”
Martha’s eyes narrow. “So why doesn’t he just pay you more?”
Gregor shrugs as he plates up their food. He pauses at the door to the office to tell Tosh. “Breakfast is ready.”
He carries the plates to the counter and then asks them what they’d like to drink. They exchange a look, say something about unfamiliar surroundings, but then eventually accept bottled water. Gregor gets himself a glass of juice and sits down. Gregor keeps an eye on his chrono as he eats. Mr. Borkus probably won’t be upset about the extra eggs or bread, but he will be upset if Gregor is late opening the diner. Martha and Tosh have a low conversation as they eat.
He takes their dishes when they’re done and settles them near the sink, before he starts in on the morning routine. He’s really not looking forward to handling the morning rush by himself, but it wouldn’t be the first time and he suspects it won’t be the last either.
“Would you be interested in coming with us,” Martha says as she starts washing the dishes.
“I can get that later,” Gregor tries to reassure.
“I can get these,” she says. “The Doctor will probably ask a ton of questions when he’s here. He’ll probably want to know what that ship in low orbit is.”
“I don’t know,” Gregor answers. “The clankers haul all the rhydonium up there. No one knows why they need so much. It’s not even a good practice to have that much on one ship. It’s highly explosive.”
Martha frowns. “Could they be wanting to blow something up?”
“They’ll probably blow their ship up first,” Gregor mutters. There’s something vaguely familiar about the ship, but he can’t place it.
“So he’ll probably want to address that first when he gets here,” Martha reassures. “After though he can scan you and if he doesn’t have the right equipment I’m sure he’ll take us somewhere that does.”
“I told you I don’t have the credits.”
“We’re not asking for credits.”
Gregor stares at Martha.
“We won’t ask for credits,” Tosh reiterates before she’s handing Martha her phone. As Martha heads to the dining room the kitchen droid rolls into the kitchen. Tosh grins. “I think I solved your power cell issue.”
“Really?” Gregor boggles. “You should charge Mr. Borkus credits, not that he won’t find a reason you owe him.”
“I’m not liking this Mr. Borkus,” Tosh scowls. “I think you should at least let Martha and the Doctor take a look at you.”
“How long do you think it’ll take him to get here?”
There’s a loud grinding noise and a whoosh of air. Tosh just grins at him. Gregor’s eyes widen. Tosh holds out her hand. “Ready for an adventure?”
Nodding Gregor takes her hand. Maybe he’ll find out who he is or maybe he’ll find out where he belongs, but either way he’s ready.
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