BBC Sherlock Imagines

Lestrade: Awkward

Just so everyone knows...
(Y/N) = your name
(Y/l/n) = your last name
(Y/h/c) = your hair color
(Y/e/c) = your eye color

~

(Y/N) POV

You hummed quietly to yourself as you walked down the sidewalk, hands stuffed in your pockets, on your way to the party. A party in which you had not expected an invitation to considering you hadn't seen your clan in 5 years, and you just came back to town for the first time last week. But that's what having a detective as a "friend" (Sherlock claims to not have friends, but you believe otherwise) does for you. Sherlock had discovered your arrival only 2 hours after you checked into your hotel - how he knew, you had no idea. When you asked him he said "I just had a feeling", but you think Mycroft had something to do with it.

You made it to 221B no problem - it had been your 3rd home back when you lived in London, after Scotland Yard, and your own home of course. The door still looked the same - black paint with the gold stylistic font and dingy knocker. You grabbed ahold and knocked, anxiously excited to be reunited with your old friends once more.

~

Greg's POV

"Sherlock, someone's here!" announced Mrs. Hudson from the door.

"Our last guest, finally," he huffed, jumping up from his chair and ducking around people to get downstairs. Finally, with him gone, I decided it was time I take his seat - his chair was the best by far.

"Enjoying the night?" asked John.

"Oh yeah, it's nice to finally relax now that we caught the crook. Even Sherlock's in high spirits."

"He should be, one of his longtime friends is back in town now," announced Mary, coming up to sit on the armrest of John's chair.

"Who's that?" I asked out of curiosity while taking a swig of my beer.

~

(Y/N) POV

Not even a minute later and the door opened to reveal the curly haired sociopath you loved so dearly (like a brother of course).

"Sherlock!" you said happily, going in for a hug. He tightened up the minute you made contact, and you looked up at him, catching a slight smile before it disappeared into a disapproving glare.

"(Y/N) it's been 5 years and nothing has changed; I still hate physical affection."

"Well since nothing has changed then you should know that I still love driving you crazy," you said, patting him on the head and pushing through him inside.

"Oh please, come in," he muttered sarcastically. You rolled your eyes at his bitter tone, secretly loving it because you had missed his dry rudeness. "Party is upstairs," he said, heading to go up there. Your stomach flip flopped as the reality of it hit you - you hadn't seen these people in a long time, you up and left abruptly, and hadn't had contact since - they may hate you now. Reading your mind, Sherlock tried to put it at ease,

"Molly's here, Mycroft as well. And, I hate to even say his name, but Anderson, Donovan, other members of Scotland Yard you've worked with. Also, other.. friends.. I've made that you might like. Just don't be awkward."

"You made friends? Sherlock Holmes made friends?" you asked teasingly, purposefully avoiding the awkward statement. Me? Awkward? He rolled his eyes and took to going upstairs. Swallowing your pride, you followed in his wake.

"These stairs are longer than I remember," you complained, breathing heavily at the top.

"That fancy building you work at in Manchester doesn't have stairs?" he prodded jokingly.