BBC Sherlock Imagines (Book 2)

Lestrade: Gloucester

Request for @superwhotreklock_

S/O to @destiel_stydia_life for the wonderful name "Gloucester"

~

(Y/n) POV

"You're still coming tomorrow right?" you asked Greg, your boyfriend of two years (it would be three tomorrow), as you settled next to him on the couch. He threw a blanket over the two of you and took the bowl of popcorn from your hands.

"Remind me again..." he trailed off.

You rolled your eyes and glared at him, stealing the popcorn bowl back and scooting away down the couch. "Dinner at John and Mary's, and please don't tell me I have to remind you what for."

He thought for a second. "Ah right!" he said with a charming smile aimed at you. You leaned back into him, happy that he remembered. Your anger faded away for a second, but reignited when he opened his mouth again. "The big game, Manchester versus Bournemouth."

You ripped the popcorn from his hands and got up from the couch, hurrying into your bedroom and locking the door. When you had first moved in here you hadn't liked the locks, but now you were thankful for them as Greg tried turning the doorknob outside. He knocked once and you flipped off the door, only realizing after that he couldn't actually see it. It's the thought that counts, you told yourself. You had a right to be mad really, after being together for three years it'd be nice if for once he could remember your anniversary, or your birthday, or anything. Anger was pouring out of you, and everything he had done to piss you off in the past couple months was boiling over. You had been trying to hold it in and be understanding - work was busy, he was always coming home late and waking up early - but lately you felt like Scotland Yard was his girlfriend and you were the work he didn't want to do.

"(Y/n)," he said through the door. "You don't have to share the popcorn, I can just make more."

You swung open the door with lightning fast speed and he looked slightly scared. "You really think this about the popcorn?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Tell me, is the only important thing you can remember about tomorrow the soccer game?" you asked fiercely. This was his one chance to redeem himself.

He smiled again, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms. "No. It's your birthday, duh," he said confidently. You shut the door in his face and ran to the bed, collapsing in exhaustion and rage. Was your whole relationship something to be forgotten? And were you too?

Unfortunately you had forgotten to lock the door, so you heard it open and felt his weight seat itself on the bed. He placed his hand on your head to brush his fingers through your hair, he knew it was your weakness, but you tore yourself away instantly. "How could you forget? After two, pretty much three, years of being together and you forget. Every. Single. Year."

He closed his eyes and bit his lip in frustration. "Anniversary, got it now." You crossed your arms and stood their defiantly. He looked up at you, and seeing how pissed off you were, rubbed his eyes. "You know (y/n), work has been crazy lately and my mind has been all over the place and-"

"Work is always busy Greg, it has been since I've known you. I'm sick of you using it as an excuse."

"So what? You expect me to quit or something?" He was stood up from the bed now, starting to look just as angry as you.

"Of course not." You took a deep breath; it was the day before your anniversary, you really didn't want this to turn into a full blown fight. "I just wish you would focus half as much on me as you do on your job."

"You're joking right? I could be at work right now. I come home every night, I choose to come home to you. I watch your stupid romantic comedies and make you breakfast and coffee in the morning and I don't even say anything when you've stolen the covers all night long."