sherlock oneshots, imagines and preferences

You were at 221b Bakerstreet, sitting in your brother John's armchair who you wanted to visit. The two of you had been getting close again since you moved back to London. You now lived in 221c Bakerstreet. The flat above your brother's but you occasionally spent time in his. You felt lonely sometimes all on your own. Sure you had friends but your brother was your best one and Sherlock had become one as well.

Today was a day like every other. John would be out buying groceries. Sherlock, your brother's flatmate and friend sat across from you in his armchair with his eyes closed and in deep thought. His fingers touched in front of his face, covering half of it. The two of you hadn't talked a single word since you entered the flat. You had opened the door and Sherlock would sit in his lounger barely noticing your presence. So you sat down in your brother's chair and kept up with his silence. You left him to his daydreaming. You just enjoyed his company even though you didn't interact with each other. The bare feeling of another organism being in the same room with you and breathing the same air. You actually enjoyed being alone as well but it had been a too long of a period since you saw a face different than your own as a reflection in your mirror.
You didn't know what he was thinking about. He and John just had solved a case yesterday and you knew they had not accepted another one since then. But you didn't question it until now. You would have heard another client showing up. Most of them started crying mid talking or started shouting at Sherlock's emotionless expressions and statements. Walls are thin.

Right when you were about to open your mouth and ask about it, you heard a noise coming from the front door of the building and closed it again. The noise of a car door aggressively swung shut.
'Somebody is coming.' you commented, which pulled Sherlock out his trance. Now he looked confused. He hadn't noticed the sound but acknowledged your observation.

He stood up from his armchair and peered out of the window.
'Indeed. It's Scotland Yard.' he said dramatically, sounding a little more exited than before. He went on sitting on his armchair again, expectantly watching the door.

A handsome looking man stormed right through it fully out of breath. He had sprinted all the way up the stairs. He had short and gray hair but did not look too old. Only stressed and concerned.
'What is it Gavin?' Sherlock asked acting annoyed. Like he interrupted him while doing something important. Which he obviously was not.
'Greg.' the man remarked worked up. This was certainly not the first time he corrected Sherlock on his name.
'Whatever Graham.' Sherlock playfuly rolled his eyes. 'A new murder that Scotland Yard is not abled to catch?' he stated rather than asked sounding a little full of himself and Greg meekly nodded. Arrogance formed on Sherlock's face.
'So will you come?' Greg asked in a sheepish way. He was truly desperate.
'The adress?'
'[adress].'
'I'll come but not in a police car. I will follow with a cab.' with this words Greg nodded grateful and Sherlock got up and left, leaving you perplex. He had gained energy from the confidece the DI gave him by showing him how much he needed his assistance. The DI was about to leave when he registered somebody else had been in the room with them the whole time. Now he narrowed his eyes at you and suddenly made no intention of leaving anymore. He was confused to see another person than John who was in his opinion the only person to stand Sherlock's behaviour. You stood fixing your trousers and straightening your shirt.
'Hello. I'm (Y/N). Nice to meet you. Are you a friend of Sherlock and John?' you questioned with a smile on your face reaching out your hand. For a second Greg was completely in awe. He looked up and down on you but got stuck in your (E/C) eyes. The most beautyful he had ever seen. Like a (eye/shade) ocean he could drown in. A sudden burst of reality hit him when you shot him a questioning look. He blushed like crazy when he realised that he had stared in your face the whole time. But he couldn't help it.

'Ah. Sorry. Greg Lestrade. Detctive Inspector Greg Lestade.' he started wanting to leave a good first impression on you. 'I would not go as far as to say friends. I work with both of them from time to time. And you are Sherlock's... girlfriend?' he asked. Partly not believing himself using the words 'Sherlock' and 'girlfriend' in one sentence. Sherlock was a mess. He was clever indeed. Greg would go as far as to say genius but a mess nevertheless. He could not imagine the person standing in front of him being with the consulting detective who was thrilled by seeing corpses and war everywhere he went. No you were too beautyful. Too nice. Too... perfect.
He already called you perfect in his head even though he didn't know a thing about you but he could tell as much.

'Oh, no!' you shook your head and smiled.
'Sherlock is a friend of mine. I am John's sister.'
Greg returned your smile genuinely relieved. He didn't know why he felt this way but he just did. He just had met you a few minutes ago but you already had him under your spell.

'Um. Shouldn't you be following Sherlock?'
Greg's eyes went wide. You were right! He totally forgot all about why he even came to Bakerstreet in the first place.
'Right. You are right. I guess I'll see you around then?'
'Yes.' you answered when he turned around to leave. 'I really hope we can talk a little more next time.' you added making Greg's eyes light up.
'I do as well.' he said leaving for real this time.
When he stood in front of his car he looked back to the window for a last time and couldn't help but smile as he saw you standing there and watching him. He waved you and got into his car never having this good of a feeling before while driving to a crime scene. He could barely concentrate on the traffic.

A few hours later

You went to your own flat after realising that neither John nor Sherlock would show up in the near future. Sherlock was on a crime scene enjoying his life and John just had texted you that he ran into an old for end of his whose house he was going to spend the night at. You made yourself some tea and comfortable in front of your computer ready to continue your research for your discourse when you heard a knock on your door. It was Sherlock looking fairly angry. You were able to hear every faintest noise in a mile distance but you didn't notice Sherlock angrily stomping up the stairs to your apartment.
'Graham asked me to give this to you.' he said grinding his teeth. He was holding up a little piece of paper. He handled it to you but certainly was not too fond of it. You took it and saw Greg's number written on it. You couldn't help but blush.

You were definitely going to call him.