"Therefore, he shot his wife's lover, shot himself, and then managed to shoot her when she arrived home." Sherlock finished his deductions. Today was supposed to be you and Greg's day off. A day to revel in each other's attention and company, a day to celebrate making it to one whole year. And you were both ecstatic. Then, Sherlock called, you both rushed to save him, missing your cab to the cottage, and for what? So he could prove his intelligence, once more.
"That's great, Sherlock." Greg sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, while checking his watch. You had missed most of your day off. All Sherlock did was smirk proudly, missing the sarcasm in the DI's voice. John entered the flat, becoming instantly confused to see you both there.
"He called us, we rushed over, we missed our cab." You explained shortly, trying to keep the annoyance from your voice. Greg took your hand apologetically.
"Sherlock!" John snapped at his friend, glaring metaphorical daggers at him. O! If only they were real!
"Oh, what now!" Sherlock' attention was drawn to his fiancé's irritated tone, though his eyes stopped on your cross figure.
"They were supposed to have a day off, Sherlock! To, you know, spend together?!" John was right. This was supposed to be your time with your boyfriend. You hadn't had a day, 24 hours, without Sherlock Holmes. Since he figured out where you lived, therefore, where Greg spent 99% of his free time, he hadn't left either of you alone. The cottage sounded lovely right now. It's little sprouts of vines climbing rustically up the exterior walls, small splashes of sunrise fleurescennts, with night time blisses, small stars of baby's breath littering the colours. The disappointment built. Damn Holmes.
"I'm sure they're fine. It's not like they don't spend time together." He lifted his violin into a playing position, readying his bow as he spoke.
"WE'VE NEVER MADE IT A DAY WITHOUT SEEING YOU AT LEAST THREE TIMES!" Greg snapped for the first time you had ever heard. About damn time.
"So? I think I'm delightful company." God, him and always having to be right. Jerk.
"Sherlock, we love you, but we are a couple. We need time to ourselves." You explained, as if you were talking to a three year old. Oh wait- you were.
"It's not like that will get Gavin anywhere." He scoffed, elaborately pointing out his deduction. You froze. You knew how he knew, but he had no right to say it aloud.
"The hell are you talking about? And it's Greg! For the millionth time!" He fought, but you just wanted Sherlock to shut his mouth. One day, that's all you needed, away from Sherlock, away from this mess of a life.
"Well, obviously I mean the fact that she wouldn't let you have her. A very respectable choice, for this age, I must say." He worked around the subject, your face growing in tint with every couple of words. John seemed to catch on immediately, but Greg, as always, was clueless.
"Sherlock, knock it off, it's none of your business!" John tried to help, but Greg would ask sooner or later. You knew he would.
"Wait just a second, what is he going on about?" He looked at John, seeming to ignore your presence. Good, that gave you time to try and stop being embarrassed. After all, it was your decision, and at least it wasn't something terrible. Why should you be? Yet, having it brought out in this way, well, it was a bit.
"I'm speaking of her virginity, obviously. Saving herself for marriage, all that. If anything, I saved you both from a very awkward encounter and conversation." Sherlock. You would wrong him by his neck! He had no right to say that, and he had no right to bring it up. Greg seemed suddenly taken aback, and a little embarrassed for pushing the matter.
"So? It's not like that has anything to do with the matters at hand. I'll be leaving now. Is one day without Sherlock too much to ask?!Goodbye, John." You nodded to both on your way out, not even humoring the possibility of Greg coming with you."It was supposed to be a romantic day, nothing sexual about it, Sherlock!" They continued the conversation, minus the lady in forefront.
"And you're saying you wouldn't have made any advances towards her?" Sherlock argued, never had been wrong before.
"No, because I respect her!" He continued to fight, despite the clear embarrassment in him.
"Sherlock, you need to apologize. You had no right to be the one to say that. It's her life, her choices." John pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to clear the headache caused by the pity he felt. You were their friend, and Sherlock always had to go and ruin that, didn't he?
"I did say I found her choices to be positive ones, did I not? If anything, I was defending her." If you were there, you would've ripped his head off. John was tired of this, tired of Sherlock always thinking he was in the right, but now, he truly wasn't.
"Sherlock, that's her business. Not ours. You weren't defending her, you were embarrassing her. Now, we are going to help Greg plan something to make it completely up to her, understand?" Sherlock looked at John, staring at him like any normal person would an insane one. What was John planning..?You continued eating from your tub of ice cream, not really expecting Graham- er, Greg, to come back. The entire day had been a disaster, and you never wanted to see Sherlock again. That would be insanely difficult, considering how often he helped on cases. Paths crossed, it was unavoidable. Damn your life. Damn it to hell.
Brrrrring, brrrrring.
The doorbell? You quickly stashed the ice cream back in it's place, and went to the door. Not even taking time to look through the peephole, you swung it open, finding Greg standing there.
"C'mon, we still have," he checked his watch, "three hours, let's make the most of it. Shall we ?" He offered you his hand, and you stared at it for a bit. You raised your gaze to him for confirmation, being met with a hopeful look in his gorgeous brown eyes. You smiled gently, taking his hand. Before you knew it, you were in the back of a cab, Greg gripping your hand for dear life.
"So, where are we headed, oh master of all things secret?" He looked to you for a second, as if deciding whether or not to tell you. It would seem he decided on 'not'.
"Can't say, it's a surprise though." Usually you'd be wary at a time like this, but his gentle crooked smile seemed to wash all the anxiety away. You looked out the window, watching the passing streets and the lights painting them with flashes of striking colours on the dull browns and greys, a grin very present. Before you knew it, the cab had stopped, and Greg had already come around to open your door for you. You looked up at the building, an abandoned warehouse, but it was so familiar. Suddenly, it clicked.
"This is where I first met you!" You mused as he guided you inside, the cab leaving behind you.
"I didn't even remember it," he admitted, "but when Sherlock said it was, I didn't question it." Sherlock helped plan this? After the horrible things you said to him? Okay, so maybe not horrible, but you didn't exactly part on good terms. The thought itself was almost enough to make you cry, if for no other reason than him forgiving you without an apology given. Greg opened the warehouse door, and those tears came free. A small table, like one you'd see at a fancy restaurant, was in the centre of the floor, which use to be hard concrete, but now was lined so much with different types of flowers, you couldn't tell. He escorted you to the table, pulling out your chair with both hands, before scooting you into your seat. He sat across from you, nervously smiling. Without warning, violin music flooded the whole building, its soft punctures lulling you into a peaceful state. John brought out two dinner plates, with (your favorite dinner), and a side of champagne. You could feel the tears sliding down your cheeks at the ultimate perfection of the night. The violin music paused, and Sherlock brought forth a (favorite flower) for the table. He looked uncomfortable, but eventually he spoke.
"I apologize for my previous behavior, and I know you wanted a day without me, but I'm the only musician we know, so let's just pretend I'm not me." Without warning, you threw your arms around him as you stood up. Greg laughed at the pure shock that fore took Sherlock's features.
"It's absolutely perfect Sherlock, thank you!"
The rest of the night went off without a hitch, but before you left, Greg took both your hands from across the table.
"Y/f/n, you are likely the best thing-"
"Oh, no, she is." Someone interrupted, causing you to giggle, while Greg just sighed.
"Fine. You are the best thing to ever happen to me, and I know I've no right to ask you this, not after all that's happened today, but Y/n
M/n L/n, would you mind too terribly if you became Y/n M/n Lestrade?" He pulled out a small ring box, and upon opening it, the lid asked one simple question; 'Will you marry me?' Was someone strangling you? Because you couldn't breath. Your eyes welled up with tears as you looked at the thin band, atop it a small f/c jewel. It was absolutely perfect! Suddenly you nodded your head frantically, unable to get the words to form. Smiling, Lestrade took the ring, slipping it on your finger. He helped you stand in your overly excited state, which you returned by instantly pulling him into a loving kiss.Maybe a day without Sherlock wasn't so great.

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Sherlock Imagines
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