Sherlock Imagines [ Book 1 ]

Summer Time

Type: Oneshot
Pairing: Greg Lestrade x reader
Warnings: FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFF

A/N this may or may not be based off a marvel one I wrote or rewritten to apply to Sherlock. But can you blame me? I'm ready for the snow to go! It's very, very similar to what happened with Tony Stark {free advertising hehe} but if you have a problem with it there's the back arrow.

~ E
•

You closed your eyes as you leaned against your chair. You had traveled and traveled for this case, and now you restored on a warm country side. You'd convinced Sherlock to take a day off, let you spend time on the rented property and actually enjoy it.

The warm rays helped tan your pale skin, being locked up in Scottlandyard had really taken its toll. You felt yourself doze off into a dreamless sleep.

At least until a searing cold liquid shot down your spine.

"BLOODY HELL!" You screeched and hopped out of your chair, your sopping wet hair blocking your vision of who had done this. You flopped it out of the way to find Lestrade laughing his ass off, young Watson cheering behind him. "GODDAMMIT LESTRADE IM GOING TO FUCKIN KILL YOU!"

Lestrade placed his hands over the young girl's ears. "Y/N watch your language!"

"WATCH MY GODDAMN LANGUAGE?"

That's when you picked up the metal bucket.

*****

Sherlock sat on the deck chair, a book in his hand, his mind was screaming bored. John and Mary had let their little girl run off with Gavin, and the two of them sitting on the swing, John's arm around her. Sherlock sighed, opening his mouth to complain when a not-so-mainly scream filled the air. Quite a sight filled the air, Gavin was sprinting across the yard, a soaking wet Y/N hot on his tail, dangerously waving a bucket. Watson's daughter behind her, cheering her on.

"Go Auntie Y/N, kick his ass!"

John practically flew up. "Y/N what did we say about language?"

She didn't seem to hear him, Mary was obviously trying to contain her giggles. Y/N stopped running for a moment, then seemed to disappear as Gavin caught his breath .

That's when hell broke loose.

Lestrade was hit with a large wave of water which left him sputtering. Y/N emerged from the shadows, hose in hand.

•••

You smirked, your marksmen ship making the hose an easy weapon. It had one of the fancy nozzles that had like twenty different settings. The young little girl was running through the water as it sprayed, giggling. Pure innocence.

Your pretty sure your innocence had collapsed somewhere between the age of thirteen and throwing a metal bucket at Greg's head. You turned towards the deck, the door was closed and they're was nothing but metal furniture and a wooden swing. Perfect.

You raised the nozzle, finger on the trigger.

Everyone's expression read one thing.

Don't do it.

You pulled the trigger.

Sherlock was the first to be soaked, his curls plastered to his face as he had a vey, very pissed off look on his face. You were probably sure you just ruined his suit, you had warned him summer and suits don't mix. You had come prepared, dressed in short shorts and a low hanging tank top. John and Mary were soon to be soaked as well, little Violet Watson ran up the stairs of the deck. Wrapping herself around John's leg.

You held the hose, ready for your next victim when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist. You turned to find Lestrade, a playful look in his eye. "Am I still a target?"

You went to squirt him In the face but he caught your hand, and instead placed his lips to yours, water shooting in the air and raining down upon the two of you.

You were soaking wet, clothes stuck to you. Lestrade the same yet neither of you cared. You cherished the moment as long as you could, dropping the hose as you wrapped your arms around him. It was perfect.

At least it was until you felt a large blast of water hit you in the back, you pulled away, narrowing your eyes at Lestrade but he had the same confused look as you. You turned to find sherlock, his suit jacket had been removed and he was now in a dripping wet button up that clung to his long yet skinny frame.

"Round 2?"