Author's Note: Okay, so in my English Communications class we were to write a recount on something. It could be made up if we wanted, so I took the opportunity to write FanFiction. This is a recount in John's perspective of when he went to Buckingham Palace. I don't use their names, because I was scared my teacher would tell me I couldn't. So sorry about that! It's only about 1,000 words due to a word limit. Uploading it so you have something to read until chapter six of "Savin' Me" is up! :) Sorry if none of you like it…. I hope you do!

It was seven o'clock on a Friday morning when my boss called me to help with a case. Something about a man found dead with a single blow to the back of his head with a blunt instrument. I knew I'd need my flat mate to assist me, as he was the real brains of the two of us, but when I went to wake him, he refused to get out of bed and insisted that I Skype him from the crime scene. Bloody typical.

I caught a taxi out to where the yellow tape decorated a small field and could see some police officers standing around along with who seemed to be an inspector. I climbed out of the taxi, holding my laptop case close and smiled as the inspector looking person approached me, his expression stern. He asked for my colleague, and I remember his voice sounding very authoritative.

"Uh no, his doctor assistant," I responded with a tight smile. "Are you set up for Wi-Fi?"

After explaining to the inspector that my fellow detective could not be with us and I needed to use Skype for his assistance, I booted my laptop up and opened the program. Within a few moments, my flat mate appeared on the screen with his mop of curls and much to my disgust, wearing only a sheet. I felt my face grow warm and looked around to see if anyone had noticed to discover, in fact, that everyone had.

"This is a little embarrassing…" I said harshly.

"It's okay, I'm fine," The baritone voice responded nonchalantly.

Sighing, I began to walk around the crime scene with my laptop, showing my flat mate everything so he could observe and then make deductions. He seemed to be having a difficult time, considering there wasn't much for him to work with, but managed to figure out that the man who reported the crime definitely wasn't a suspect. Something about being morbidly obese and having the right hand sleeve of an internet porn addict, whatever that meant. I passed the laptop over to the inspector when my best friend wanted to speak to him due him apparently thinking the man was actually a suspect.

"Okay, but there is a mute button, and I will use it!" I warned him.

I walked away for a moment, listening to the two of them bickering behind me via Skype and had to chuckle a little. After a few moments, someone tapped me on my shoulder and the inspector returned my laptop, mumbling something about going to look at the stream and then how my flat mate was an arrogant twat.

As I turned my attention back to my sheet wrapped friend, my face fell into a frown. Our landlady was in the room with him and two other men dressed in expensive looking suits. I could hear my flat mate asking who they were rather impolitely and then suddenly he was gone; disconnected. I figured it was something to do with the Wi-Fi connection and started pressing random buttons to try and get it to work again.

A police officer approached me holding a phone. There was a low rumbling sound. "Sir, it's for you,"

"Okay, thanks," I answered, holding my hand out for the phone.

"No, sir; the helicopter,"

I turned to see that the police officer was in fact telling the truth as a helicopter landed nearby and I was quickly led over to it. A headset was thrown at me and I hastily put it on, clambering into the helicopter, still feeling very confused as to what was going on. The pilot informed me that I was going somewhere of high importance and it was completely necessary that I went. I decided not to argue and to be quite honest, I liked a little danger and adventure; it was exciting.

As we flew over the grassy fields and re-entered the metropolitan area, the helicopter began to slow down as we approached a rather large property with an enormous house; more like a mansion. I knew this property all too well and couldn't quite believe that the very helicopter I was sitting in was about to land there; this day had been crazy.

I was led through the building and I stared in awe at how royal it was with its expensive rugs, gold and silver furniture and hundreds of famous paintings. It was an absolute honour to be walking on the very floor of the building and I felt a sense of patriotism surge through me.

After a while, I was left to myself and told to enter the big room up ahead to my left. Wanting to know what on earth was going on, I did so and upon entering the room, there sitting on a fancy looking couch, was my mop top flat mate. Still in his bloody sheet.

He looked over at me as I entered and I lifted my hands slightly to ask if he knew anything. I received a shrug, and decided to go sit down. Looking over at him in his sheet, I had to feel shocked; I was pretty sure he wasn't wearing anything underneath…

"You wearing any pants?" I asked.

"No," he responded bluntly.

"Okay,"

We looked at each other then and burst out laughing, realising how utterly ridiculous we both must look right now. Me in my casual outfit and him in his bed sheet, sitting on a sofa in the most royal of all buildings. My laughter was beginning to subside and I blew out a sigh, still smiling widely.

"Ah dear," I chuckled and then cleared my throat. "Buckingham Palace, okay… What, are we doing here? Seriously, what?"

"I don't know,"

"Are we here to see The Queen?" I joked.

At that moment, my flat mate's brother walked in.

"Oh!" My flat mate laughed. "Apparently, yes!"