Rude Boy

I slipped the phone back into my pocket and stumbled slightly, trying to get to Sarah. I shouted a barely-audible "wooo" against the sound of Rihanna's song Rude Boy. I got up abruptly, triumphantly managing to steer my way in the correct direction without any balance issues.

Sarah began calling to me and as soon as I set foot on the hard panelled flooring, I could feel my body loosening up with the sound waves. I began walking and dancing over to her. I didn't even know I knew the words to the song, but apparently I did and by God, did I bloody sing!

"Come here rude boy, boy can you get it up? Come here rude boy, boy is you big enough!"

I slurred a little, but so did the other partiers. The dancefloor was packed and we all seemed to bust a groove like the barbadian singer herself. Sarah had wandered off somewhere, but I was too lost in the song. The bass kicked up. I felt bloody amazing and I hadn't realised that over by the bar, stood three of my closest friends, who were watching as I thrusted and jived enthusiastically- each one with their jaws dropped.

"Tonight imma let'chooo be the captain!"

Soon it reached the best part of the song, and all of the dancers sang and danced in the same raunchy, drunken way. But suddenly the crowd had moved into a circle, forcing me into the middle as they all danced and encouraged me to wiggle my hips all the more.

"I like the way you touch me there, I like the way you pull my hair, Baby if I don't feel it, I aint faking no-no" The crowd echoed I teased them, winking at them and grinding all the more. I then spotted the wide-eyed Mycroft, Lestrade and Sherlock who had moved closer to watch this display. I turned to face them directly and the crowd cheered encouragingly. I was directing all of this energy at one person in particular and he hadn't expected it at all. For once, the world's only consulting detective was baffled by human behaviour.

"I like when you tell me kiss you there, I like when you tell me move it there, so giddy up, time to get it up, you say you're a rude boy, show me what you got nowwww!"

I wiggled my index finger at him. "Come here right nowww" I bit my lip playfully and cackled. Then we all merged together again in a crowd and jigged our hips and jerked in time to the chorus. I was never going to live it down, but at that moment- I really didn't care.

Finally the song ended and some of the crowd dispersed. I stopped dancing, applauding the rest of the partiers as they did the same. I shook the sweat off of my brow, took off my cardigan and unbuttoned some of my shirt. Mycroft was the only person who was stood watching me now, and I swaggered over to him, happy as a clam.

"Mmmycroft!" I greeted him, feeling nothing but delight.

He was smiling broadly, an odd sight but a pleasant one all the same. He sighed and jerked his head toward a different booth. He walked briskly ahead of me, while I stumbled behind him, smiling at other people, getting claps on the back and I returned these by putting my thumbs up. It was really, really brilliant. Finally, I reached the booth where the three men resided. Sherlock and Lestrade were sat next to eachother, Sherlock next to the wall and Lestrade perched on the edge. Mycroft took the seat opposite and patted the space next to him. I giggled, pushing myself onto the seat, trying to keep my balance. I looked up at all three men who were staring at me intently. I couldn't help but smile and Lestrade looked like he was trying to restrain himself from laughing.

"John, I didn't have you p-pegged down as a Rihanna fan.." he lost his restraint and started cackingly, which evidently set me off to. Mycroft raised an eyebrow and Sherlock looked slightly bewildered. Mycroft chuckled a little too and Sherlock's gaze was fixated on me. Though I couldn't tell how he was feeling, I just knew that his eyes were glistening while staring at me. Mycroft chose to interject.

"On to more.. pressing matters. John, do you realise how dangerous tonight could have been for you? You could have been in mortal peril. I don't dishearten your fun, as truthfully, it was incredibly amusing to see you like this. But none of us here are willing to put your life into jeapardy. Do you understand me?"

I was trying to focus on him, but I couldn't. Lestrade was smiling at me, his tanned face glowing in the light. Sherlock continued to stare, not speaking a word, though his mouth and twisted slightly into a smirk. I replied to this facial expression toothily and I cackled, rolling my head back in the laugh and returning it upright again. I looked about me.

"Where Sarah go?" I asked, puckering my lips slightly, using my hands to manouvre across the table in search of a drink. Though there wasn't one to be found.

"Sent one of the boys from the yard to take her home. We thought she was quite drunk, but you make her look bloody sober!" he chuckled.

They all looked at me then, expecting me to speak. I felt as though the spotlight had been put upon me and I didn't know what else to say. They carried on discussing things amongst themselves, I wasn't interested. I would just sway and move my upper body in time to the music that still blitzed its way through the club. The room seemed like it was spinning around me and I couldn't focus properly. I started laughing beyond control and all three men exchanged strange looks. They all seemed to have come to a conclusion silently, and all of a sudden, Lestrade was hoisting me out of the seat, with Mycroft and Sherlock behind us. Lestrade put my hand on his shoulder and intstructed me to follow him. I happily obliged, but as we cut through the room, I couldn't help but wiggle my hips and dance as I went. I let out the odd "Wheyyy!" or lyric to whatever song it was that was playing, but I could feel long fingers on my back, prodding me slightly. I turned round to see who it was, and for a brief moment Sherlock smiled at me and winked, before pushing me forward again. How could I not obey him? He had a tight fitting purple shirt under his suit (and coat) which in my drunken state, I mentally named "the purple shirt of sex". He looked pretty delicious in it, I had to admit. I smiled happily as I dawdled out of the club and got into a dark Mercedes, probably owned by Mycroft.

I kept drifting to sleep and back to consciousness in the car, I felt great but I was pretty tired. I could tell that I kept switching shoulders, as one minute I was on a consulting detective and the next, I was on the Detective Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard. Spoilt for choice. I laughed to myself, my voice croaking. Mycroft turned his head from the passenger seat at the front to cock an eyebrow at me. I let out a "Ha!" sounding incredibly similar to the Tenth Doctor from Doctor Who.

"Alonsey!" I said, smiling happily.

"Alonsey?" Lestrade asked, but not to me, to Sherlock.

"He's a Doctor Who fan." Sherlock said flatly, as though it were common knowledge.

Soon, we arrived at 221B, Lestrade put his arm around me and guided me up the stairs and plonked me on my arm chair, where I just sat, staring at the men before me. The three of them exchanged words in private and then before I could have a chance to catch up with my surroundings, it was just me and Sherlock, all alone, together.

"Yummy." I said aloud, smiling playfully. Sherlock just eyed me, looking at me suspiciously but with a grin planted on his face. He sat down in his armchair and leant forward to face me, I tried to do the same, but I fell forward sloppily which made me laugh, so I sat back up and tried to look serious.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you out of the house." I looked at him innocently, my "serious" demeanour failing miserably. He was trying to distract himself from looking at me, so he did what he always did. He spoke his thoughts aloud. "But this leads us closer to our suspect. He even drugged you again. Which means, he must've spoken to you, as the murder of Jacqueline was completely intentional it appears evident that someone had been speaking with her for a while, before the estimated time of death.. but we'll elaborate when you've sobered up. Also, Sarah arrived far later than you arrived and she drunkenly stated that you were far worse off than she and it didn't look like the effects of alcohol. Naturally, sweet Sarah does not see you as a drug taker and assumed it to be her 'beer goggles' which made it look this way. Meth as we've said, gives a feeling of invincibility but, one thing I cannot understand John, can be summed up in just two words.. Rude Boy?" He was staring at me intently.

I could feel my smile growing wider and this evidently made his smile grow. I hadn't seen this smile before, it was different, almost playful. Had I been sober, I'd admire its beauty to the extent it deserved but in the state I was in, I could think of only one thing.

"I-I'm a sucker f-for a purple shirt."