John had found himself in an... interesting situation. Well, as interesting as something could get when you were an occult detective. He frequented the same bar you did, and God be his witness, the first time he saw your young face he thought you were skipping school. But no, you were a completely acceptable age... even if he was old enough to be your father.

He wasn't even that old! But you sure as hell made him feel like it.

It all started with an accidental second of eye contact between you. And before John knew it, you were trying to chat him up, with your cocky confidence and bastard behavior. He was no stranger to a night of passion or a free drink when offered one, but this? Well, he had his limits.

So a swift decline followed with a dry smirk it was. But you persisted. And before either of you knew it, you were trying to seduce him at every chance you got - offering him a drink, suggesting different date activities, talking about how you 'weren't too young for him'. For a straight month.

Needless to say he shot you down each time. But he had to admit, you were persistent. And if he had to be honest, it was almost, almost entertaining at times. Like watching a cheeky young bird trying to impress someone. But it was also pretty annoying, especially when all he wanted was a hard drink after a difficult day.

Could John theoretically find another bar? Sure, yeah. London was a big enough city. But God knows why, he hadn't made any sort of effort to do so. So dealing with your endless enthusiasm it was. Hell, you had ran into him in a convenience store a couple of times too. It had almost become a part of his routine.

So it was no surprise that as the cheap burning liquid of the whiskey in his glass slid down his throat he caught the familiar sight of his young admirer in the corner of his eye. There you were, standing in your signature place in this shitty empty bar.

Bloody 'ell, 'ere we go again, he thought as the glass made contact with the old wood.

Sure enough, you were already making your way towards him and he couldn't help his signature smirk from rising to his rugged face, "Well, 'ello there, luv. 'ere to pester me again?" The words rolled off his tongue with a healthy dose of sarcasm as John reached for his pack of Silk Cut. He plopped a cigarette between his thin lips and lit it as he studied you for the hundredth time this month, "Y'know I got tattoos older than ya, right luv?"