Male/Ftm Reader x Random, Book 2

Eighth day of Christmas (Greg Lestrade x ftm!reader)

The reader is thirty-five in the story.

(Y/n's POV)

I was sitting in an interrogation room waiting for the detective or whoever to come to question me.

I sat back in my chair and kicked my feet up on the cold metal table. Like magic, a detective opened the door appearing from seemingly nowhere. I knew they were hoping to get me to crack under the pressure of isolation, but this isn't my first time in a police station.

"Get your feet off the table!" A tall funny looking man ordered me as he entered the room.

"Ah shove off, I'll do whatever I want," I responded with a smug smile.

He then pushed my feet off the table and I did not like that.

"Ah help! He assaulted me! You saw him, you even got it on tape!" I shouted at the two way glass window. Of course, I was only acting and trying to get a rise out of the detective.

"Sit the fuck down." He shouted at me. Instead, I just winked at him and leaned back against the wall.

"Make me!" I said smugly.

"Fine whatever, stand! But you're the one facing the murder charge not me." He spit from his chair behind the table.

"What is your name?" I asked cooly, finally walking over and sitting down.

"What?" He asked, clearly taken aback.

"What. Is. Your. Name?" I asked slower so he could understand.

"Anderson, why?" He asked suspiciously.

"Because I like to know the name of people before I punch them," I said, then gave him another wink.

Before he could even say anything, I socked him in the nose. The hollow sound that came from him coupled with his dazed look told me I had broken it.

As per usual, the other police officers rushed in and handcuffed me to the chair and the table, but it was worth it. The guy was a prick.

I waved as we were ushered out of the room, blood dripping from between his fingers. Ah, that was a good one.

(Greg's POV)

"He didn't do it," Sherlock said from beside me. We had just watched the suspect (Y/n) (Y/l/n) punch Andersen in the nose, and I hate to say it, but I'm more or less glad he did.

"And why didn't he do it? He just punched Anderson in the nose over it." I responded a bit surprised.

"He didn't punch Anderson because he accused him of murder. He punched him because he didn't like how he was being spoken to." Sherlock responded flatly.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because, when Anderson mentioned the murder charge, his face didn't change. He knows what he's in for and he doesn't seem to want to fight that fact. People who committed a murder like this don't usually take credit for their work. He is not a serial killer. His demeanor changed however when Anderson started acting aggressively, as he normally does. Watch, let me go in there and I'll prove what I'm saying."

"No Sherlock, I'll take care of it," I said with a sigh.

I left the room behind the mirror and entered the interrogation room calmly. (Y/n) looked up to me and smiled.

"Ah finally, they are sending in the cute detectives, I was wondering how long it would take you all." (Y/n) said calmly.

"My name is detective Greg Lestrade," I said taking a seat across from him.