A/N: I don't know how long this will be. It was only meant to be two parts but we'll see where it goes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

They reached the mini bus and Sherlock slid in beside John, with Lestrade climbing into the drivers seat. Anderson got in beside him, with Donovan on his other side. She was dressed as a nurse and Anderson had a hard job taking his eyes off of her. Sherlock snorted at him and turned towards John.

"Where are we going?"

"Pub crawl," John replied, smiling.

The mini bus started and Lestrade slowly pulled out of Scotland Yard, whilst singing some cheesy song.

"I don't do pub crawls," Sherlock whispered, his eyebrows raised slightly.

"You do tonight, come on, it'll be fun."

Sherlock sighed and pulled out his phone. It was only half seven, still plently of time for this night to get worse. He was about to put it away when it buzzed, and he looked down to see a text from Mycroft.

"He's wondering why you didn't invite him," he said to John, whilst typing a reply.

"How does he - Oh never mind, what did you say?"

"That he's welcome to come along," Sherlock said, staring out of the window now.

"He doesn't know where we are though," John muttered, leaning into Sherlock so that he could be heard over Lestrade's singing.

"His car is trailing us now," Sherlock smirked, flicking his head towards the back window.

John struggled to turn around, and could just make out the famous sleek black car following close behind them.

"Typical Mycroft, of course he wouldn't miss his younger brother's stag do."

Lestrade pulled into a small car park, parked the mini bus and got out. Sherlock knew where they were, he just didn't know why they were here. The nearest pub had to be a mile away.

"What are we doing here?" he asked Lestrade, who was busy sorting out a ticket.

"Well, we can't drive to central London on a Saturday night, can we? Besides, it's your stag do. People are meant to see you looking.. more human," he finished lamely. Even with fairy wings and a tiara, Sherlock didn't look human.

"So, we're walking?"

"Yup, but cheer up, I got a surprise for you," Lestrade said, smiling. He handed some money to Anderson to get a ticket and then made his way to the back of the mini bus, motioning for Sherlock to follow him.

Sherlock sighed and followed Lestrade. He watched as the detective opened the back doors and pulled out a crate of small glass cups, each filled with a different coloured liquid.

"What are these?"

"Special shots, one for each of us." Lestrade grinned, carrying the crate over to the others.

Just then the black car pulled in, and Mycroft climbed out, umbrella in tow. Mycroft wasn't dressed up, but that didn't surprise Sherlock. If he had his way, he wouldn't be dressed up either.

He turned back to Lestrade, "what's so special about these shots?"

"Well, they're new see? They give the drinker a special effect." Lestrade explained, giving a glass to each person.

"Special effect?" Sherlock said, looking sceptical.

"You'll see. John, come over here."

John strutted over, holding two glasses in his hands. He grinned at Sherlock and held out one of the glasses.

"Why don't I trust any of you?" Sherlock murmured, taking the glass from John.

John just shrugged, "On three. One. Two. Three" and with that he, and everyone else downed the shots. Sherlock glanced at them all one last time before copying.

There was silence for a moment, and then Anderson threw up, before falling to the floor. Donovan followed closely behind him, and then John and then Lestrade. Both Sherlock and Mycroft stood watching them, a bemused expression on their face.

"What the heck?" Mycroft said, his eyebrows furrowed.

Sherlock shook his head slightly, before kneeling next to John, who was now giggling feebly.

"Lestrade," John cried, "Whatever you put in those was bloody brilliant."

Lestrade grinned back, and pulled himself into a sitting position. "I told you they'd be good," he said, now attempting to stand up, using Anderson's head as a support post.

Mycroft picked up the packaging and scowled slightly as he read the information, "There's enough alcohol in those to knock somebody out," he said to Sherlock.

"Then why hasn't it affected us?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know."

A moment later and John stood up, perfectly fine. "They're special shots. Give you an instant hit, but leaves a few moments later." he explained.

Donovan, Anderson and Lestrade looked normal again as well. "Guess you two aren't human enough to get affected," Lestrade said, heading towards the street.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock called after him.

"To the pubs? Come on, we're only just getting started."

They walked through the streets of London chatting amongst themselves. Several people stared at them, a few wolf whistled at Lestrade, and even more laughed at Sherlock and Anderson.

"How much further?" Sherlock asked grumpily. He didn't like being seen like this, especially after a young girl and her boyfriend thought he and Anderson were gay with each other. Sherlock had to restrain himself from strangling both of them with his fairy wings.

He walked over to John, who was chatting with Lestrade, and linked his hand with the doctors. John squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. Sherlock didn't return the smile. He didn't want to be here, especially with the others, he'd rather just be at home, with John. The two of them, how it should be.

He saw John's smile slip, and felt instantly guilty. This was John's idea, and he was ruining it. He squeezed John's hand, and gave him a small smile. If this is what made John happy then so be it. His stomach fluttered slightly as John beamed back at him.

They reached a small queue of people, and Sherlock was surprised when Lestrade joined the end. This wasn't a pub, this was a night club, which meant dancing. Something Sherlock definitely didn't do.

"We're going in here?"

Lestrade nodded, and motioned towards a largish group of people. All girls. All of them wearing banners, and tiaras and other things that made Sherlock feel slightly sick. Now he knew why Lestrade wanted to stay here. He sighed and wrapped his arms around John, ignoring the groans coming from Donovan and Anderson. Mycroft stood to one side looking slightly uncomfortable, and Sherlock felt his mood lighten slightly. Both of them looked so out of place, it was comical.

Eventually the line went down and they were let inside. Sherlock almost passed out from the sound and the smell of the place. Everything was so loud, and the music - if you could call it that - was starting to give him a headache. He felt someone nudge him from behind and turned to see John glaring at him impatiently.

"You're blocking the way," He said, pushing Sherlock forward.

Sherlock allowed himself to be pushed further into the room and felt his fight or flight instinct kick in. He spun round and bolted for the door. Once outside his head began to clear again, and he felt his heartbeat slow down.

"You too, huh?"

Mycroft stood next to him and pulled out a cigarette, before lighting it and taking a deep drag. He held the box out to Sherlock.

"You're going to need it," he said, closing his eyes.

Sherlock took one, and lit it. "How can people like places like this?" he muttered, feeling slightly more relaxed now that he was outside.

"I guess it's a release for them. Like drugs were for you." Mycroft said, watching Sherlock carefully.

"I'll take the drugs, thanks." Sherlock sighed, he really didn't want to go back inside.

"You must really love John. The old you wouldn't do this," Mycroft smiled.

Sherlock turned back towards the door, "Guess I have to go back inside. John is probably missing me."

Mycroft just nodded.

"You coming?" Sherlock asked, smirking slightly.

"In a minute, I think I need a few more cigarettes first."

Sherlock made his way back inside, and straight away the sound and smell hit him again. He felt his heart starting to beat faster again, and felt his chest tighten. He needed to find John, and he needed to find him now.

He moved further into the room, and could see Anderson and Donovan making out in one corner. His head was starting to pound, and he quickened his pace, which was hard in a place like this. It was so busy that he could barely move two paces before someone stepped in his way.

Finally he made his way towards the dance floor and felt his heart drop as he saw John dancing with some girl. Her eyes were closed and her head was resting on his shoulder.

He backed up and turned towards the door, he knew John had spotted him, but he didn't care. He just had to get out of this place, and fast.