Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol. That was the main message your neurons were firing at the moment, the thrill of going out with the team after so long making your blood singe and your skin tingle. Even better, you finally got to see Johnny in civvies again.

Three drinks and one shot of pure liquor later, your brain was pleasantly buzzing. Johnny was perched at the bar next to you, idly nursing his scotch with his right hand, the left one leisurely resting on your waist. Christ, he looked downright edible in civvies. A tight, navy blue t-shirt, dark jeans and combat boots. Fuck.

Johnny chuckled, a velvety and rich sound as he bent down to whisper in your ear. "See something you like, m'eudail?"