The lights were low, and John was already covering his ears because of the music. It wasn't until Mike jabbed him in the side with an elbow and mouthed 'Be a man' that he lowered his hands with a wince.

"Isn't that better, Johnny?" Mike called over the bass that seemed to be shaking the floor.

"Where are we? What is this?" John called back, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "There's glitter everywhere!"

A raunchy smile played across Mike's face as they ducked into a slightly quieter section of the venue. "The Bluebell," he said. "Finest establishment of its kind."

John frowned and didn't allow his eyes to wander, staring determinedly at his friend. "This is a strip club!" His voice was accusatory.

"A gentleman's club," Mike corrected. "And not only can we enjoy ourselves and celebrate your escape from working for the Ms, but I also have a bit of side business to do with a correspondent here."

John panicked, looking around to make sure nobody heard. "Mike!" he hissed. "Can we please not announce that in public?" He didn't fancy anyone knowing he worked for one of the largest crime syndicates in England, even if they were out to celebrate that he had been released from their services. Lord knew the Ms had enough enemies that even a former "employee" would be deemed a useful target… until they realised he hadn't been privy to any information other than who amongst the criminals had high cholesterol and which city's prince was a vegan for moral reasons.

"Oh, come on. You were only a doctor for them, anyway. Everything you did was legal." Mike waved away his concerns. "Besides, I got you the job with them in the first place, didn't I?"

John sighed just as the music quieted dramatically. Mike all but leapt over to a staircase, dragging John behind him. "You're going to want to see this," he told the doctor in a choked voice. "Best view is from above." A bouncer at the top of the stairs led the both of them to some plush leather seats that seemed drastically too expensive to be in a place like this overlooking the main dance floor. John cleared his throat uncomfortably and as he sat down, he decided quite resolutely that he would stare in the corner instead of taking advantage of whatever young thing would be undressing and flitting up and down the pole in the centre of the stage.

The lights dimmed, and the crowd burst into noisy applause. It seemed whomever would be performing was so well-known, no introduction was necessary. Sultry music began playing, and everyone suddenly fell silent. John had never seen such a well-behaved audience in his life. He glued his eyes to the corner of his room, and it was only in his peripheral vision that he saw a tall, lanky figure strut out in a thick overcoat and shoes that made solid 'clok!' sounds against the wood with each step. A small huff of delight from Mike at his side was what finally broke John's resolve, and his eyes rushed to see who it was that had captivated everyone. He gulped.

"Good evening, gentlemen," purred an impossibly deep voice. "I am the Consultant. What can I do for you today?"

John's eyes raked over the image of a man with a mess of dark, curly hair and brilliant eyes that glimmered in the spotlight. He couldn't control himself, and he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees just as the Consultant unsheathed his impossibly long arms and tossed the coat behind him, revealing an utterly naked torso with muscles in spite of his lean figure and strong legs that were barely contained within some sort of stretchy trousers. "What am I doing?" John rasped to himself. He didn't even find blokes attractive! But still he stared.

"Let me get to know… you," the voice came again, sending tingles like electricity shooting from John's spine to his fingertips. Had he imagined that the Consultant was looking at him when he said that? John was certain he must have gotten caught up in fantasy until the dancer lifted himself up gracefully on the pole using only his arms, brought his legs over his head and somehow switched so he was holding on by his knees and spinning upside down, and crooned, "Doctor."

John felt as though his eyes might pop out of his head. He leaned as far back into his seat as he could, but there was no mistaking it: the dancer was making eye contact with him and nobody else. "Good lord, doesn't he get dizzy?" John weakly joked in a mere squeak, but Mike shushed him. The people below all murmured and seemed to be caught between trying to see whom the Consultant was addressing and watching the Consultant's routine.

"You've been a good boy, I see, but you work for some very bad men," the man continued speaking with great ease as though they were in a conversation, as though nobody were watching him perform a mind-blowing, stunning display of balance and physical strength. John shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Oh?" he said with surprise. "No, you don't work for them anymore, do you?" John bit his tongue-literally.

The music picked up, and the Consultant's routine did as well. He thrusted and spun and seemed to walk in mid air, shouting out minute details from John's life and landing on the stage each time with a hollow 'clok!' from the high heels that made him tower ever higher above the audience on the ground. The dancer finished and the entire club fell to thunderous applause. John watched him walk back behind the curtains all but glistening and tried not to notice how hard his heart was pounding.

"Jesus, Johnny!" panted Mike, mopping sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. "I've never seen him do one that good. He must've really liked you!"

John coughed. "And what the hell is wrong with you?" he cried, feeling as though he'd finally come to his senses.

Mike faltered slightly. "Don't tell me you didn't like it!"

"Didn't li-" John started, catching himself quickly. "I meant that you told all of that personal stuff to me to that… that… that exotic dancer! You even told him who I worked for? That's low, just to get a rise out of me!"

"No!" Mike raised both his hands innocently. "I swear, John, he does this every night, new person every time, no information about them ahead of time. 'S why he's so popular, I think."

"You swear?" John breathed a sigh of relief.

Mike nodded. "You don't think I'd put one of my mates at risk just for that, really? Anyway, we have to go around back. I'll bet you get to meet him!" He winked outrageously before standing.

John followed, his heart leaping erratically in his chest. "I'm not into blokes, you know," he said lamely, more for himself than anything. Mike shrugged inoffensively as they descended the stairs and went through the side door leading to the dressing rooms.