Sherlock One shots and Imagines

Below the surface - Part 3 - Greg x Reader

Greg could swear that it had been the longest day ever. Sherlock had been being his usual self, the detective inspector sure that the youngest Holmes had gone out of his way to make his life more difficult than it really needed to be. Greg sometimes certain that that was Sherlock's favourite pastime, and that if he wasn't there, the consulting detective would have to find some other poor soul to tease. The police officer never really sure how John put up with his friend; but the fact was that he did, and Greg for one was grateful for it. Hating to think what Sherlock would be like if the doctor wasn't there to apologise for more or less everything the young Holmes said and did. Greg just happy when the consulting detective had finally left the crime scene tent in his usual flurry of long dark coat, scarf and curly hair. John making one last apology before quickly chasing after his friend.

With a relieved "oof", Greg dropped onto his sofa. The comfortable cushions seeming to envelop him. His head dropping back and his eyes focusing on the ceiling of his living room. His hand reaching for the phone that was in his pants pocket, bringing it up so that he could see the time.

It was late, eleven thirty, and despite the fact that Greg really wanted to call (Y/n) and tell her what had happened after she had left. That Sherlock had agreed with her supposition that the mark that had been carved into the victim's chest had been placed there in a rather childish attempt to make the police think that there was something extra to this killing. That John had quietly enquired about her, as Sherlock had perused the body, saying that he would very much like to meet the mystery woman that seemed to be making him so happy; the detective persuaded himself that she would probably be in bed. That just like him, she would likely have a lot of paperwork to do regarding what she and her team had done that day. So, he would wait. He would send her a message in the morning, apologies for not being able to get back to her sooner. Apologise for not being able to spend the evening with her and tell her that he would make up for it soon.

Suddenly there came a knock at his front door. The detective's brows furrowing as he raised his head from the back of the sofa. No one should be calling at this late hour, yet as he reluctantly got up from his seat, he just had to presume that it could be a couple of uniformed officers there to inform him about something else that had come about with his case. The detective inspector letting out a heavy sigh as his got to the door, his hand slowly reaching for the handle.

"Thought you might need this." A cheery voice announced, as the door was opened. Greg smiling as he not only saw the good bottle of Pinot Grigio, but also (Y/n)'s face.

"I know its late, Greg, but after hearing the whirlwind that is your friend, Sherlock earlier today, I thought you might need a glass or two and a debrief before you made your way to bed." (Y/n) continued, her smile never leaving her lips as Greg smiled back and opened the door fully. The detective inspector sure that she could read his mind. The pair making their way to get a couple of glasses before adjourning to the living room. Greg opening the bottle and filling up the two vessels before settling back on the sofa next to (Y/n), his arm moving around her shoulders as she lay her head on his chest.

Oh, how he wanted this to be an everyday occurrence. To have (Y/n) here every night when he got home. With her by his side, everything felt right. He really was happy, happier than he had ever been with his ex-wife. She made all the pieces fall into place, made sense of the craziness of the job. She understood his life, accepted the long hours, the weekends that were cut short. The sudden phone calls and text messages that would pull him away from an evening together; things that maybe not too many other women would put up with. But she did and he didn't want to lose someone that special. Yet at this moment, when they were both tired, when they had another long day ahead of them, he doubted that it was the best time to tell her that he loved her. That he wanted this to be something more. No, he wanted it to be special. If he was going to do it, to confess everything and tell her how he wanted this to be something really real, he wanted to do it right. He really wanted them to remember the moment for the rest of their lives.

"Stay..........." Greg said softly, a small smile gracing his features as (Y/n) looked up at him. His fingers combing gently through her hair as she placed her palm against his cheek. The light stubble on his chin prickling at her skin.

"I'd like that." (Y/n) agreed, as she moved so that she could kiss him.

"What say that you and I take these glasses upstairs? I'll run you a bath while you get undressed and then you can tell me all about what the great consulting detective had to say about the body we found." She continued, as she got to her feet and offered Greg her hand; the detective taking it and letting her pull him up to join her.

"On one condition." Greg replied, as he brushed a few of the strands of her hair back behind her ear. Chuckling to himself as she gave him a quizzical look.

"You join me.............." He whispered into her ear. His breath fanning across her skin.

"It will be my pleasure.........sir................."