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Daughters & Dating >> Greg Lestrade X Reader

Title: Daughters & Dating

Paring: Greg Lestrade X Reader

Warnings: fluff, anniversary dinners, teenage angst, dogs.

Spoilers: set after Series 4.

Requested By: a DIFFERENT pal on AO3

Author's Note: This is part two of Dogs & Detectives. 

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Greg stares at his phone in abject horror. If it were any other night besides a Saturday, you'd suppose it was a work thing, or maybe a Sherlock thing. But you knew for a fact that it wasn't a Sherlock thing – he was spending the weekend with John and Rosie at his family's house, with Mycroft. And you both had vetoed all work-related people from contacting you the moment you both left the workplace at five o'clock.

But still, Greg stares at his phone, and you stand in the doorway to the bedroom, cup of tea in hand, slightly worried. You knew dogs better than humans, and yet, all you could do was stare.

"Everything alright?" you ask, passing him the tea.

Greg blinks. "I totally forgot it was my weekend with Avery," he says, wiping a palm over his face. He looks at you with a sad look in those brown eyes, and adds, "Looks like the anniversary is off, love."

That's why you've both been so adamant with keeping work at bay. A one-year anniversary isn't much to anyone else, but to you and Greg, it's what you've been working towards, what, with dodging Sherlock and all workplace regulations. You'd planned to make it a pleasant occasion, with a meal at a nice restaurant nearby the flat.

You blink.

"Why don't we bring her along?" you say, words coming out faster than you can think, and you go on, adding, "It won't be a hassle, I don't think."

Greg frowns, eying you. "Are you sure, _______? I –,"

You nod. "Of course! You're her father, Greg, she always comes first." You smile, remembering how much your mother prioritised you when growing up. "Plus," you add, "tonight is as good a time than any for her and I to get to know each other better."

He considers his phone and looks back to you. "If you're sure, _______, I..."

You nod. "Yes, I'm sure, Greg! Now call your ex back, I'm sure we can pick up Avery on our way to the restaurant, and still make the reservation." You take the cup of tea back from him, which, was untouched by your boyfriend, and go to leave the room, "I'll call the restaurant and change the reservation."

If it's starting to show that you're nervous, nobody is mentioning it to you. While Greg took the tube to his ex's row house, you waited about half an hour before leaving your shared apartment and took a taxi to the restaurant. It's where you've been waiting for what feels like eons, but, according to the screen, and the battery on your phone, has only been an hour. Every five minutes or so you try to stop yourself opening a new message to your boyfriend, asking where he is, or if he was stuck in traffic, or if he had been called by work for a major homicide that meant the occasion was off. Instead, you're searching through all the pictures you've got on your phone, deleting photos that are blurry, or screen-shots taken when you've accidently locked the phone, or snagged an ugly picture from Greg's Snapchat.