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Consulting Girlfriend >> Greg Lestrade X Reader

Title: Consulting Girlfriend

Paring: Greg Lestrade X Reader

Warnings: violence, sherlock and you on a case, fluff

Spoilers: none~

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It began when someone blurted out to Anderson that you had banged the boss and won his heart over. Those exact words bled from Donovan's mouth, and forever in Scotland Yard thereon you were no longer the administrator, the gopher, the coffee collector: you were _______ ________, girlfriend of Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade, and now immune to their complimentary jabs.

You were _______, a tea lover and enthusiast (a passion shared with Triplet and Rogers) and nobody nicked your nice brews anymore.

And, most importantly, you were ________. The best relationship advice giver (according to Nina Lordy from HR, who you accidentally got to split from her abusive ex).

The funny thing was, though, that everyone went out of their way to just speak to you, in the most inconspicuous ways for your words of unadulterated pure wisdom. It had been known around the Yard that if a someone bought you a bribe of exotic tea, or faxed you a sneakily-taken, attractive photo of DI Lestrade, you would take the case. It had been almost a year of this; your locker was jammed with jars for your tea bags, and unsorted loose papers of your hot boyfriend the cop all over the place.

And maybe that was going to end.

"I heard from two people that knew people that you are a good relationship advice-giver," a familiar voice entered the foyer of your administration desk. "So I've come for a consultation."

At this, you glance up. And your face pales.

"Mr - Holmes," you stutter.

Sherlock Holmes was notorious for not caring. Or, maybe caring too much and not telling anyone he felt different. But with him and his cheekbones and tall collar and smirk; you almost felt the shadow of greatness mixed with a smidge of arrogance had swallowed you whole and was going to gargle you out.

"Yes, that's my name. You're _______, the administrator John couldn't help babbling about?" He demands.

Your lip twitches in a sort of smile. Only last fortnight John accompanied Greg to the station (something about seeing crime scene evidence to help write his blog). And before you knew it, Bob was your uncle and John had handed you a nicely crafted teapot for advice to keep the love alive with himself and Mary.

"Well, Mr Holmes," you start, gazing at his mass of midnight curls, "If you'd just read my name badge," you tap it with a green pen, "you'd know it. What can I do you for? You usually forgo me and go straight to the Detective Inspector."

He tilts his head. "Yes, I suppose you're correct. I'm not here for George -,"

"Greg."

"But for you. It's for a case. I'm not so...good at attachments in love like I would like to be, and I was wondering..." He trailed off. For a moment all you could think about was how annoying and egocentric he was, and how Sherlock possibly would rank number one in the most selfish men list. All he talked about was his all-important cases, even now to your face. "...you just need to assess some people for me."

You take a deep breath.

"Mr Holmes," you start, "you do know that I'm not a professional love expert, or dating advisor," you remind him. "I'm a secretary. For Scotland Yard."