Girls night out. Okay, maybe not strictly a girls night, because Simon is tagging along, for good reason. Well, for one, he's more trustworthy behind a wheel than any of your friends, and he's really great for staying safe as a group of girls out at night. Plus, nobody wanted to volunteer as the designated driver, so he was more than happy to step up. He had actually been the one to insist on tagging along to keep an eye on you guys, made all of your friends put their numbers in his phone and turn their locations on, the whole nine yards that you'd expect from a seasoned SAS soldier.

It's only 2am and there are plenty more clubs to hit despite most of your group already being sloppy drunk, so you're hanging off of Simon's arm and he's also supporting one of your friends on his other arm as he helps you stumble your way down the street to the next bar, smiling at the group of carefree girls dancing and belting song lyrics - terribly, mind you. Despite the fact that he's just babysitting a bunch of drunks, he's actually having fun, it's not the type of bar-hopping he's used to. With the guys, it's more like sitting in one pub talking about everything and nothing, chugging pint after pint and still feeling miserable afterwards. Something about watching you and your friends make stupid jokes and bumble about like drunk toddlers makes him feel young again, like the lad before the army.