Put a ❣ in my inbox, and your muse will get:2. A badly messed-up pick up line.
"This is not exactly what I was thinking of when I said ‘adventure.’ I was thinking more along the lines of ‘I’ll take you for a spin in my TARDIS and maybe grab some fish and chips if we’re still alive.’ sort of thing. Not—”
A rather burly young man with muscles the size of his head and some sort of weird insignia across those muscles gave him a particularly disconcerting look. One that went along with a growl that sounded as it belonged to some sort of hyena.
"I thought you said you wanted to find your friend?"
With one look the Doctor realised his hope that perhaps they’d gotten lost on the way was wishful thinking. He also realised glancing around at their new company was not a particularly smart idea. Instead, a moment later, he found himself thrust into a stool at the end of what he was lead to believe was called a bar. Personally, he preferred saloon, but apparently he was wrong.
"What’ll it be, handsome?"
The unfamiliar voice came from behind, and when he whirled around he found a young woman looking at him rather expectantly. She was cleaning off a glass, it appeared. Either that or it was some sort of custom he hadn’t been aware of. Both were likely.
"I’ll, uh—" Right. Okay. This wasn’t particularly his sort of crowd. And he’d been told countless times to act the complete opposite of himself and he’d be fine. Frankly, he did not find that helpful.
He was returned with nothing but a confused blink of the eyes from the woman across for him. He had a feeling he hadn’t started that off right. “Wait, no, that’s not it. Thief! Thief. I’m a thief. That’s it, I’m a thief. Yes, that’s definitely what I’m supposed to say. And I’m going to steal… your arm? Wait, no, hold on a moment, I’ve got this. Heart! I’m going to steal your heart.”
And, before he could gauge some kind of reaction all he could hear was ‘Oh my God!’ and what he was faintly certain was Mila dragging him out by his ear. Yeah, he definitely preferred saloons.