Sherlock One shots and Imagines

Doctor dreamy - Part 9 - Sherlock x Greg x Reader

"Er.........Mister Holmes............" The desk sargent called out, as the consulting detective swept passed him, completely ignoring him. The officer picking up the phone and calling the detective inspector to tell him that hurricane Holmes was on his way. Other officers moving to the side, as a flurry of long coat, scarf and wavy hair, quickly made its way to down the corridor.

Sherlock had been awake all night; not that that was an unusual thing, but still..............He had left John sleeping, and made his way out onto the streets of London. His breath hanging heavy in the cold air, as he went to find a cab. The younger Holmes would never admit it to anyone else, nor really to himself, but he did care about John. He was his friend, perhaps the only one that he had ever truly had, and the last thing that he wanted to see was John being hurt. He still stood by what he had said, that the doctor and the agent had far more in common, made far more sense, than the woman that his friend had actually gone to meet the night before. But the problem was, that this (Y/n) had only been placed at New Scotland Yard while she fully recovered, and then what........she would be off, back to Europe, back to whatever operations her talents were needed for; leaving poor John alone and possibly heart broken. So, this little trip was all for him, for Sherlock to ascertain what the INTERPOL agent's intentions were.

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"(Y/n)..........did you find that file............?" Greg shouted out, loud enough for the entire rest of the office to hear, as he pushed through all the papers on his desk.

"Yes, sir.................." A much softer voice replied, Greg looking up to see the agent stood in the doorway, leaning up against the jamb with a file in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. A smile coming to the Inspector's lips, as she made her way over to him and placed the file and tea, on the desk in front of him.

"It was at the bottom of the pile that you dumped on my desk. Below the one for the Peckham flasher and the one where the perpetrator breaks into houses and only steals underwear. Both of which are probably the same guy, in my humble opinion." (Y/n) explained, shaking as Greg took a drink of the hot beverage.

It hadn't taken her long to decide that she quite liked Greg; he was a good man, a good cop, and genuine, three things that she didn't necessarily see a lot of in her other job. And she was glad that she had met him, even if it had taken her nearly dying, to do so.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get back to all the fun of the case of the knicker knapper............." The agent added, giving Greg a smile, before making her way back to her desk.

Greg watched as (Y/n) walked away. He had wanted to talk to her about staying, he would have to talk to her about staying. She was exactly what his team needed; she was smart, quick, did her job well and didn't need any supervision. He never had to chase her up and she always seemed to know what he needed, before even he did. And in a way, she made him think of Sherlock, just without the high functioning sociopath part.

"Yes...........?" Greg asked as he picked up the phone. The voice on the other end of the line telling him to batten down the hatches, as Holmes was on his way, seemingly on a mission.

"Thanks.............." The detective inspector continued, furrowing his brows, as he placed down the receiver. He couldn't remember asking Sherlock to come back in. There was no updates to talk about, nor new cases, so he couldn't understand why the consulting detective was there..............well, not unless the younger Holmes wanted to help (Y/n) with her knicker thief case. Greg getting to his feet and making his way to the door to await the arrival of the younger Holmes. The furrows in his brow getting even deeper, as Sherlock threw open the doors to the CID office, and instead of making his way to him, he came to stand in front of (Y/n)'s desk.

"You know, this place should really be fitted with something like an air raid siren. They could use it to warn us that your coming............." (Y/n) said, not even bothering to look up from her paperwork, as a shadow blocked out her light.

"Either that........or I'm gonna get you a collar with a bell.........." She continued, this time more under her breath.

"What are your intentions.................?" Sherlock said, (Y/n) finally closing her case notes and looking up the rather windswept appearing Holmes.

"I beg your pardon..............?"

"What are your intentions towards John............?" Sherlock's brow quirking, as the agent just laughed.

"Is this all about last night? And my intentions towards John..........? Last time I checked, you weren't John's father, he is not a sixteen year old girl, and I am not a spotty, horny teenage boy that would like to cop a feel. So what this all has to do with you..............?"

"I want to know if you're going to hurt him..............?"

"Hurt him...........I have no intention of hurting the dear doctor. He is a lovely man and I am looking forward to seeing him again tonight.............."

"But you do intend on leaving here when you have fully recovered from your injuries, don't you? And when you do, I do not want you to take John's heart with you............" Sherlock continued, the consulting detective watching as (Y/n) got to her feet.

"As much as I appreciate your loyalty and concern for your friend, I have to say, that none of this is your concern. John Watson is a grown man, and perfectly capable of making his own decisions; capable of deciding whom and whom not to spend his time with. When the time comes that I am back to full health, and if my meetings with John turn into something more than just two people enjoying some time together, I will be sure to talk to him about my next step. Not you.............Now, if you will excuse me, I have a panty pincher to bring in, and hopefully, I'll find his flashers mac too." (Y/n) retorted indignantly, before grabbing for her coat and making her way out of the office.