Author's Note: Because I finally took the plunge and got the 11th Doctor's screwdriver, toy version. It's cool.

The mid-October air was crisp, biting at any extremities that dared to expose themselves. The clouds hung low in the sky, threatening to fall at any moment. The sun was hidden from view, making the early morning chill even harsher. Few cars ventured out this early in the morning, and thus the large car park with the odd pot hole was virtually empty. A teenager and her mum, oddly wearing the same shade of red – one a waterproof coat and the other a fleece – stepped out of an almost perfectly parked silver car.

The brown-haired teenager turned her attention to the car's back seat, opening the door and pulling out several of those bags for life that disintegrate in less than a year. Meanwhile, the mum was busy getting out of the driver's seat – a feat in its own right. The teenager made her way to the driver's side, closing the door behind her mum as she made her exit. Her mum locked the door, testing it a few times by pulling on the handle rather too violently. Satisfied, she turned to her daughter, who was muttering something under her breath about the car needing to be in one piece by the time she had a driving licence. The mother did not notice, and took the bags for life from her daughter's outstretched hand.

The teenager took off across the car park at a walk, setting a decent pace that would only be matched by others of her age. She walked right up to the damp set of shopping trolleys lined in convenient rows just metres from the supermarket's door. She scanned them all for a moment, before picking one of the right size, grabbing it by the royal blue handle with both hands. By now her mother had caught up, setting a much slower pace. She fumbled around in her handbag for something that was probably very important, but her daughter was already through the automatic doors, which gilded from side-to-side with a reassuring swoosh.

The mother sighed at her daughter's speed, but knew better than to let her run off and do all of the shopping herself – they would end up eating pasta and pizza for a week, perhaps more. She stepped over the threshold, and into the familiar shop's fancy greenhouse-like entrance. She walked on, between two of the security barriers, and into the supermarket itself. She spotted her daughter by the magazines, which were situated very close to the entrance.

"Look, they've got the new Doctor Who one," she said, pointing at a single magazine amongst the vast array of titles. "Can I have it, Mum? Please?" She smiled her nicest smile.

"How much is it?" the mother sighed, rolling her eyes.

"It's about a fiver, but if you want the exact price..." she bent over and picked up a shiny new copy, "...it's about four pounds ninety-five."

"Okay, but you can buy your own next time," said the mother, turning to find her own magazine. The teenager nodded, knowing full-well that the next time she wouldn't have her purse either. Her mum turned around again, clutching a copy of a magazine that was about soaps. One headline read: 'Death in the Square'. The teenager wondered how that could be at all interesting, but then she took a second glance at the Doctor Who magazine now nestled safely in the trolley. 'Wed or Dead?' the headline read, over a picture of River Song and the Doctor.

Fair point.

The pair moved on, the teenager pushing the trolley while her mother picked over the fruit and vegetables, depositing suitable specimens into the trolley. They parted ways when the teenager spotted the DVDs. She walked over, inspecting every one, looking for something she might be interested in talking mum into buying. There was nothing that week, however, so she moved on.

When she was on her way back to where she knew her mum was, a familiar logo on a shelf full of toys caught her eye. There, on the highest shelf, was a plastic box shaped like a cylinder. There was a piece of paper wrapped around the inside, bearing the blue Doctor Who logo. Curiosity made her wander over, trainers squeaking on the shop's polished floors.

She knew instantly what it was. She didn't need to read the label at all.

It was a sonic screwdriver.

She had the Tenth Doctor's screwdriver sitting in her room, taking pride of place next to her favourite teddy bear. She'd wanted the new one ever since it had made its first appearance. She still wondered wither or not she should get it, weighing up the options in her head. Then she glanced at the price. It was on offer.

Grinning at her good fortune, she picked up the box and hurried off to find her mum. The sonic screwdriver would be slipped into the trolley to go unnoticed until hey reached the checkout till.

Then she would explain.

"Run, Ponds!"

Amy and Rory didn't need telling twice, turning on their heels and bolting down the corridor with the Doctor following closely behind. He had the sonic screwdriver pointed at the creature that was perusing them, but he hadn't used it yet, preferring to escape than have to destroy the creature.

Perusing them was a huge beast. It ran on all fours, huge black claws jutting out of three-toed paws. It had skin that was like leather, with a few hairs running along its back, which were now standing on end. It had a large head, which reminded Amy of something that a cat crossed with a gorilla would have. Its deep, guttural growl echoed off the concrete walls and bounced into the ears of the Doctor, Amy and Rory, making them run all the harder.

They turned a corner, but the creature was still advancing. The Doctor pushed his companions on, Amy shrieking momentarily before picking up speed again. It was times like this that Rory wished he had his sword.

"Doctor, why don't you just use the sonic?" he asked, beginning to run short of breath.

"It don't want to, Rory. These creatures have a weak molecular structure. Using the sonic on the right frequency would kill it."

"I think it's going to kill us," Rory panted. The Doctor ignored him.

They kept running along corridors, eventually managing to gain a little ground on the creature. Amy was so busy looking over her shoulder at the hulking beast that she failed to notice the door she ran into. She clutched her cheek for a moment, before rearranging her priorities and trying to open the door. It was locked.

"Doctor, it's locked!" she cried. The Doctor turned, pointing the sonic screwdriver at the door. The green light came on. The warbling sound was almost drowned out by the snarls and growls of the creature now stalking them, sure that it had its prey cornered.

The door remained firmly locked.

Amy shrieked again as she noticed how close the creature was getting. Rory grabbed a hold of her arm, pulling her close. The Doctor had his face pressed into the screwdriver, inspecting it. "What's this?" he asked no one in particular. He held up the screwdriver so Amy and Rory could see it. He pointed at some minuscule lettering in the barrel, confused. "It says 'Made in China'..."

The creature took another dangerous step forward, teeth bared.

In a bedroom far, far away, the teenager pulled her new sonic screwdriver out of its box. She was surprised to notice that it didn't need any batteries, but dismissed it. It wasn't important.

She raised the toy screwdriver and pointed it at a picture of a dog on her wall. She pressed the chunky button and the sound of the screwdriver just like the one on television filled the room. The light on the end glowed green, just the right shade.

There was a muffled crash as the picture fell off the wall. Confused, the teenager got off the bed and wandered over to her fallen picture. The frame was intact, as was the glass, the impact softened by the cuddly horse that lived on the floor. Beside the horses' hoof was a silver screw. The teenager glanced up at the wall where the picture should have been. There was a screw-sized hole, plaster lining its edge.

She inspected her new screwdriver. "Huh, says 'Made on Gallifrey'..." she mumbled.

Then realisation hit her. She had the Doctor's actual sonic screwdriver. And it was awesome.

It didn't occur to her until much later that the Doctor might actually need it.