You start your new job a Scotland Yard at 25 and are immediately put on a case. Some call it nepotism, but you know it's because you rival Sherlock Holmes and your father can tolerate you better. Detective Inspector Lestrade has always been a proud...
Life goes on as normal for a while. Well, as normal as it can when you are dating Sherlock Holmes. He's become much more affectionate after that night and you have too out of fear of losing each other. You try to keep it to a minimum when around your dad, though. There have been clients in and out of the flat. Suspected affairs, begging businessmen, and the occasional schizophrenic. You sit by Sherlock for all of them and play the role of good cop to keep the meetings civil. People tend to get out of hand when they are dismissed by Sherlock and Sherlock will throw the occasional temper tantrum when he gets bored.
Lestrade comes along every so often with a case for you and of course, your boys follow. Your days now consist of working a case, coming home, and hearing Sherlock complain about John's blog. It really has been gaining traction with the public though. You are on a case in a theater, walking hand in hand with Sherlock while he teases John about his blog titles. On your way out, your dad meets up with you.
"There's a lot of press outside, guys" He warns.
"Well, they won't be interested in us." Sherlock brushes it off.
"Yeah, that was before you were an internet phenomenon. A couple of them specifically wanted photographs of you three." Lestrade laughs.
Sherlock reaches into a dressing room, hands John a hat and takes one for himself.
"Cover your face and walk fast." Sherlock orders.
You squeeze his hand and when Lestrade turns his back, you plant a kiss on his cheek.
"It'll be fine, Sher. It's good for the public image anyway"
The four of you rush out the door. You hide behind Sherlock in front of John. Sherlock's hand is still in yours as he drags you along. The cameras flash in your face, but you keep your head down.
The next morning, your faces are plastered over every newspaper in London. Sherlock is pissed, but you do your best to calm him down. A little popularity never hurt anyone. Of course, you didn't believe this yourself, but you had to convince him. Just after breakfast, a new client arrives. Well, if you can call what he did arriving. It was more like he passed out in your kitchen. He tells the story of how his car broke down on the side of the road, backfired, and then there was a dead guy in the field nearby. Sherlock dismisses it until the following morning when a body is found. He sends John on the case so that he can stay in bed with you a little longer. The two of you have not had much alone time recently.
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Last night was... wild to say the least. When you wake up, you are in your favorite red lingerie and you notice that Sherlock isn't in bed next to you and the sheets are gone. Knowing that John is out, you put on your slippers and waltz into the living room. Sherlock is sitting at the table wrapped in the bedsheets with his computer in front of him.
"Sher, come back to bed." you plead. Little do you know, you are directly in the shot of the camera where John is walking through the crime scene.
"(Y/N), Jesus, put some clothes on. The whole team can see you." John hisses. There are a few whistles from the guys in the back.
