BBC Sherlock Imagines

Lestrade: Not Stressed, Not Tired

Request for @Demi_Time_Detective

~

"Please, come to bed, get some sleep."

"No!" you protested for the 50th time that hour while scribbling nonsense information on the work papers in front of you.

"It's 2 in the morning and you have work tomorrow!"

"Ah yes, it's only 2 in the morning, the night is still young my friend," you mocked in a deep voice.

"(Y/n), I know you have a lot of work to do, but you need sleep sweetheart." You sighed and turned towards Greg. He had deep circles under his eyes and sleep tugged at the corners of them, but he still managed to look as handsome as usual. Curse him and his good looks. As guilty as you felt for keeping him up with worry, it was his choice to lose sleep over you.

"By the looks of it, I'd say you need sleep Gregory."

"You've barely slept at all the past three nights! Last night you went to sleep at 4."

"Yes, but I woke up at 6, that's a solid two hours," you argued, holding up two fingers in front of his face. He raked his fingers through his hair in frustration, and you smiled cheekily at him. "Okay grumpy pants, I think you need to go back to bed. I'll be in there," you checked your watch and observed the stack of papers you still had in front of you,"tomorrow night."

"(Y/n) seriously," started Greg, his voice taking on a stern tone. "I know you're stressed," you cringed at the word, you did not like the word stressed, it stressed you out just hearing it, "but staying up all night, every day of the week, won't do you any good. And you're tired, I know you are." It was your turn to groan. If he would stop arguing with me I could finish these darn papers already and get some of that sleep stuff he talks about.

"Okay listen up Greggy, for one, I'm not stressed. I just have an over abundant workload that my boss wants done in an insane amount of time and I don't know if I can finish it. But I am not stressed. I don't get stressed, I get busy. Second, I am not tired. I'm on my fifth cup of coffee of the night and I could probably run a marathon right now if I wanted to. So ha," you finished up with a sassy shake of your head and flip of your hair. Greg snorted, laughing.

"See this is how I know you're tired - you have never felt up to running a marathon, not even a mile at the gym, not even 50ft down the street to the post office."

"So wouldn't that mean I'm not tired if I'm saying I could run?" you asked, trying to be clever.

"No, it means you are tired because you would normally never be crazy enough to say that." Proving him wrong, you stood up and ran around the table 5 times. Then, you did 10 jumping jacks and 3 push-ups just to prove you were thoroughly energized. "Wow, 5 laps around the kitchen table, 10 jumping jacks, AND 3 push-ups? You really showed me (y/n)," he teased. Breathing hard, you sat down and rolled your eyes in the process (you were a true multitasker). You knew he was right though. So what? You were a little tired. You'd fallen asleep in the cab ride to work this morning, and while waiting for the coffee to come at work, and then again in the cab on the way home. But you were awake here and now and that's all that mattered, well and getting the paperwork done.
"AHA!" Your head snapped up, and you saw Greg standing with his finger pointed at you and a smug look on his face. "You were falling asleep! You are tired!"

"Okay fine, I may not be 100% charged, but I'm at about 83%. Good enough to survive through the night," you said pointedly, putting another paper into "finished" stack, and grabbing one from the bottomless "unfinished" stack. Suddenly, your unfinished stack was flung into the air. Papers floated down around you and you looked up in horror. Two arms snatched you up from the chair and you screamed half from fright, and half from enjoyment as you were slung over a shoulder.