BBC Sherlock Imagines (Book 2)

Lestrade: I Spy

REQUEST FOR MYSELF BECAUSE I NEED SOME GREG EVERY ONCE IN AWHILE. (I mean look at that gif, can you really blame me?)

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"(Y/n), let's play a game," said Sherlock. You glanced up from the book you had your nose dug into and raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously.

"You, Sherlock Holmes, wants to play a game with me, (y/n)?" you asked, never having encountered this subject before. Well you had one time before when he begged you to play chess, but after seeing you were no good, replaced you with the skull when you went to the bathroom whom he claimed was more of a challenge. "You know I don't play chess."

"I don't want to play chess," he stated, his lips in a tight smile like a little kid dying to spill a secret.

"Okay," you said, bookmarking your page and setting the book on the coffee table. "Then what game?"

"I spy."

"I'm guessing there's some deductive twist on it?"

"Nope. Just some good old spying with the eyes," he said with a chipper voice while hopping up from his armchair. "I'll start," he said, not giving you time to pepper him with suspicion. He started pacing in front of you, hands in prayer position under his chin as he walked back and forth. "I spy with my blue eye, something grey."

You looked around the room, then at yourself. "My sweater?" you guessed, although you doubted it could be that easy.

He pointed at you with a smile, "Ding ding ding, we have a winner." You stared at him like you were staring at an alien. Who was this man? The Sherlock Holmes you knew did not smile and act so cheerful when you answered correctly, he would usually make some smart arse comment about how long it took you to answer and how he could do it in half the time. Something's going on- "Your turn!" he said, interrupting your thoughts.

"Uh, I spy," you glanced around the room, "something-"

"No. You must say 'I spy with my, insert eye color, eye,'" he motioned for you to go on. You sighed then tried again.

"I spy with my (y/e/c) eye," Sherlock have you a thumbs up, "something-"

"My blue scarf. My turn again." You rolled your eyes and decided not to scold him for being a know it all. "I spied earlier today with my blue eye..." he glanced quickly at you before continuing, "Lestrade kissing his ex wife."

There was a brief moment before the words registered in your head. Lestrade. Ex wife. KISSING. "WAIT WHAT?" you yelled, standing up and marching over to Sherlock. Fear drained into his eyes, and he gave you a look of pity. "Tell me everything. Now," you growled.

"Well um I was walking past his office after solving a case, a very easy one actually. It was the great grandma and she used a sewing machine-"

"Sherlock," you hissed, glaring at him.

"Right um, well she was in his office and he was sitting in his chair and she was behind his desk sitting on it, quite close to him if I might add, and his hand was on her arm and she looked to be dressed in a nightgown, showing lots of leg if you know what I mean, and then she leaned on to him and kissed him and-(y/n) what's wrong?"

You blinked, the tears you had been holding back now falling silently. You wiped them away, and you felt Sherlock grab your shoulder and lead you over to his chair. He grabbed a blanket from nearby and wrapped it around your shoulders, then disappeared into the kitchen.