What do I do with a boy like you? ~ Dean

[Amy Pond]

Amy Pond had not had the best week. Being the girlfriend of Sherlock Holmes could be rather tiring at times, and quite honestly she didn't know where the relationship was going. It didn't exactly make her sad that she didn't know...well, it did, but she wasn't letting herself thinking about it, but this long week had made her realize that she and Sherlock weren't exactly the most perfect couple. She did love him, of course, but lately it felt like everything was just...drifting away. At best, though, she only frowned when she thought about it. She bit her lip sometimes too, but that was irrelevant. She was going to be fine. Perhaps the relationship would fix itself...that's what she thought every time during the week. But so far, nothing had really happened.

It hurt Amy quite a bit that she and Sherlock seemed to be drifting apart a little, but she didn't show it and she always distracted herself whenever she began to think that, because she wanted to convince herself (and Sherlock, although she wasn't sure if he wasn't thinking the same thing as she was) that everything was fine and that it would always be fine. At the beginning of their relationship, for about a day (maybe two), she had wondered how long it would take for the relationship to hit the rocks, but then Amy had convinced herself that it wasn't going to happen. But it seemed that it was happening now. And what was worse was the fact that it didn't seem as though Amy could do a single thing about it. So to take her mind off her long and terrible week, Amy had decided that...

Okay, so this week hadn't been that bad. So maybe it had been a bit rocky with Sherlock, and it was getting a little hard for Amy to put up with him. She adored him, yes, but it was rather....well, it was just hard in general because of this no emotions thing he always had going on. So Amy had the perfect solution. When it got dark, she got dressed in one of her short skirts, with a top and some heels. She applied makeup, styled her hair, put on a jacket and left. This was one of the best ways to get rid of any possible stress; clubbing. Okay, sure, people would probably think it was the worst way, but that was only because they'd never tried it. Amy had no idea what club or bar she was going to, but there you go. Often it was best to just find one that looked like fun. And that's exactly what Amy did.

She wandered down the street after getting out of her taxi, and her eyes instantly fell on a club not too far from her. She didn't look at the name; why bother? Amy's eyes lit up and her lips curved into a smile as she walked towards the club. Honestly, she had missed all of this, very much so. Sure, it was better with company, but still, perhaps she'd find some company. She opened the club door and stepped in, her smile turning into a huge grin. This place was awesome. Amy was going to have the best night ever. The first place she headed was, of course, the bar, and she leaned over so the barman could hear her. "What can I get you?" he asked pleasantly.  "Tequila shot, please." Amy said, grinning. "Comin' right up." he replied, and he went off to make it.

Amy's grin never faded from her features as her eyes scanned around, watching people drinking shots and flirting and dancing. This atmosphere was known to Amy and she loved it. Okay, sure, at times clubs had seemed a bit extreme to her, but when she'd tried them out she'd realized that they were the best places ever to have fun and distract yourself. By this point, Amy had actually forgotten the reason she was here. Not completely, since it was still in her head, but the thoughts had been replaced by other ones, better ones. A content sigh left her lips.

She was happy with the way she was, and if that meant coming to clubs was what made her happy and full of fun, then that was all that mattered. Amy turned and thanked the barman as he brought over a shot glass and some tequila. She filled up the shot glass, but she didn't down it for a few more moments, just wanting to take in the atmosphere a bit more as she sat on a bar stool. "Perfect." she murmured absently, and then she downed the shot neatly. She could feel the alcohol easing her out, even if it was only one shot. Her grin was wider than ever now. It was good to be back.

[Guest]

Dean's week had been eventful, to say the least. Not that he hadn't expected his job to follow him around wherever he went (after all, once a Hunter, always a Hunter), but he hadn't expected the cases to start quite so soon as they had. Only three days in and he'd come across a demon called Aglasis, one who could fulfil all your deepest and darkest desires, but at an extravagant cost. Every deal with the devil, as the saying went, had a price, and although Aglasis was no match for the devil, his cost was very pricey. Death.

The creature was evil, nasty and it had to go. So, with the help of Sam (where would he go without his Hunter baby brother?) they'd discovered what the demon was, tracked it down, made it unlatch itself from the woman, and together they'd killed it, with minimal harm to Ivana. Though the princess, as she'd called herself, had spent a good ten minutes after its death yelling about the fact that without the demon she now wouldn't be able to get back to Russia, to her correct time-period. The blonde had claimed she was the youngest daughter of the Romanov Tsar. Yeah right. Dean believed in a lot of things, but as of yet, time-travel wasn't one of them.

Whatever. Humans were confusing. Demons and spirits - they had patterns and reasons for why they did what they did. But humans - humans were just nuts. The work had been exhausting and strenuous, and the pair hadn't even received a proper thank you. As if they were the bad guys for killing a creature that was going to kill her in five days. Not that he was expecting any sort of gratitude. The world was rid of yet another evil creature and as far as Dean was concerned, that was its own reward. Job well done, and a rather brilliant start to their Hunting careers in England too, he thought.

Now to celebrate, the elder brother decided that a couple of drinks and a relaxing night was in order. Not that Dean's relaxing nights were like anyone's regular expectations of a relaxing night, but he had never been one to do what was expected of him. Unless it was his father that was doing the expecting. Dean's relaxing nights went something along the lines of: a few drinks, darts and pool, a lot of flirting, and hopefully getting laid. It wasn't as if he knew where the best place to get all of this was, not having had a chance to explore London's night-life much, but he was sure that he'd find somewhere. Eventually.

Having arrived back at the motel after the killing, Dean had catnapped, thrown himself through a shower to wash away all the dried blood on him, changed his dirty bloody shirt for a clean one and was off. Sam had thrown in his two cents by saying that it wasn't the brightest of ideas, but Dean had promised to call him at some point to assure Sam of his safety. That boy was such a worry-wart at times. But Dean knew it was only because Sam was worried about them getting separated and being put into danger, like had happened one too many times in the past. Like during the case with the country hicks that had hunted humans, just for fun. Or numerous other times (which, incidentally, also had something to do with strange little out-of-the-way towns). But this wasn't some hick town all the way out in the boonies. This was London. Central London. He'd be safe. Or, as safe as anyone could be when sharing a world with supernatural creatures. On that thought Dean had strapped his favourite silver gun to his calf underneath his jeans. Better be safe than sorry, especially if Sam wasn't there to guard his butt tonight.

So now the older Winchester was in some strange club, in some random part of London that he didn't know the name of. Having hailed a cab (because on second thoughts, it seemed much easier to entrust himself to someone who knew these streets and knew the best places to go than drive around and find out for himself) he'd asked the driver to take him to a bar, any bar as long as it had good drinks and was predominantly straight. The Hunter was really hoping to meet some sexy English girl that would end up taking him back to hers tonight. It had been quite a while since that had last happened and, well, he was only human. Besides, there was something extremely sexy about English accents. Or rather, just accents in general.

Sauntering up to the bar, Dean looked around the place. Various groups and couples were drinking and doing shots, guys flirted with girls, girls flirted with girls, people were gyrating up against one another on the dance floor and...are they doing body-shots? Yes, this definitely seemed like Dean's sort of place for a night of relaxing fun. Not that he was much one for dancing, but the body-shots and flirting certainly appealed. Dropping his butt onto a stool next to a particularly attractive redhead, Dean gave a smile as the bartender came up. "I'll have whatever she's having," he asked, with a nod at the redhead. As the bartender went off to make up the shot, Dean turned to the female and gave her a playful smile. "Now, because curiosity is my middle name, what exactly is  your choice of poison for the night? And can I get you another?"