I know that it is a little early, but I would like to wish everyone a very happy, and safe, silly season. No matter where you are from or what you believe, I hope that you are all able to spend time with your loved ones. And despite everything that has happened over this terrible year, that you all have chance to enjoy yourselves. I thought that the only gift I could give you all was a little Lestrade imagine, so here it is.

Greg sat in the office, his head firmly in his hands. Why did it have to be so difficult? He could question murderers, confront armed robbers. He could even deal with Sherlock. Yet when it came to (Y/n) he was lost.

After how he had been treated and cheated on by his wife, Greg never thought that he would let down the walls that he had built up around his heart again. He had come to terms with the single life. But as soon as he thought that he was done with love, she had appeared. She was a vision dressed in dark blue dress, a booked gripped between her elegant fingers. And from that moment, Greg had fallen, and fallen hard.

Lestrade couldn't believe his eyes when he had walked into Sherlock's flat. The consulting detective reluctantly introducing the stunning creature as his youngest sibling. A beautiful smile appearing on her face as she had risen from John's chair and walked over to shake Greg's hand.

As she stood before him, something told Greg that she was different from her brothers. There was a warmth that seemed to surround her, a sweetness and sensitivity that neither Holmes brother possessed. Traits that made the young Holmes actually human.

"Greg. It's only a Christmas gift. I am sure whatever you give (Y/n) she will love it." John tried to reassure the detective, as he sat across from him.

"Yeah, I know. But I want to make it special. It's our first real Christmas together and I want it to be something she won't forget. Neither Sherlock or Mycroft like the fact that (Y/n) and I are together. And I just want to show her that she hasn't made a mistake by not listening to them." Greg groaned as he finally raised his head.

It was stupid. If Sherlock could see him, he would probably just shake his head and give his usual speech about sentiment. Tell him that he wasn't good enough or intelligent enough for (Y/n), but Greg didn't care. (Y/n) wasn't like any other woman he had ever met. She was the first one he had been able to tell everything. The only woman that seemed to completely understand what he had been through and what he thought. And whatever he did, she had supported him, especially against Sherlock.

For Greg, she ought to have diamonds and pearls, gold and champagne. Yet he hadn't been able to think of anything that told (Y/n) how he really felt. And now he was running out of time.

Greg had first plucked up the courage to really talk to (Y/n) at a New Year's party that had been organised for the staff at New Scotland Yard. As everyone had celebrated, Greg could only watch as (Y/n) sat quietly by herself with a glass of champagne in her hand, looking out of the window as the sky outside was filled with millions of twinkling snowflakes. He couldn't believe that she had actually turned up when he had asked John if he and (Y/n) would like to join them, but she had, and now that she sat there with a melancholic look that Greg knew all too well, he had decided that no one as perfect as (Y/n) should ever look so sad.

"I have something for you." Greg had said quietly, not wanting to shock the younger woman.

"I.......beg your pardon." She had replied, looking slightly shocked as the detective had handed her a vivid red balloon dog, created by some silly entertainer that had been hired for some unknown reason.

"You looked a little sad, and I thought that you could use a friend." Greg told her, a smile growing across his lips as she took it gratefully.

"Thank you, Greg. He's lovely. And red is my favourite colour." (Y/n) replied, as he reluctantly turned to leave.

"You don't have to go. I don't mind some company. That's if you want to." (Y/n) had called out. Greg suddenly turning on his heels and making his way back to sit by her side.

"I'm sorry Greg. I don't mean to be a party pooper. It's just, unlike some of your colleagues I have no desire to get drunk and do something that I will not live down for the coming year." (Y/n) had said with a chuckle, as she spied Anderson and Donovan flirting.

Greg couldn't help but stare at the woman next to him. He had always thought that she was stunning, but in that particular light she looked like an angel, with eyes that seemed to sparkle just like the champagne in her glass.

"I don't suppose that you would like to take a girl for a late night stroll, would you? To be perfectly truthful, Greg, the only one I want to see the New Year in with is you." (Y/n) had told him, Greg growing wide eyed as she had leant over and kissed him softly on the cheek.

So, before he knew it, Lestrade had found himself walking through the falling snow in the early hours of the new year arm in arm with (Y/n), the two laughing and joking like they had known one another for years.

Since that first night, that first perfect kiss as they had stood under the twinkling lights, the heavens filled with millions of flawless snowflakes, Greg knew that he was never going to let (Y/n) go. She had been his rock, his shoulder to cry on, and he knew that he she would do anything for him. Yet here he was, their first real Christmas together, and he couldn't even think of the right gift.

"You know, I don't know (Y/n) as well as Sherlock or Mycroft do, but given that neither of them are interested in getting anything as sentimental as a gift, I shall give you the only advise I can. Just get her something from the heart, Greg. You know (Y/n), she isn't interested in anything fancy. But I would do it now if I were you. Its Christmas Eve and the stores will be closed soon." John informed him. Greg jumping to his feet as he looked at his watch and noticed the late hour.

                                                          >>------------------------------<<

Greg looked in yet another store window, only to try the door and find it locked. He had tried everywhere, tried everything, yet he still hadn't found something worthy of the woman he loved.

Annoyed at himself, Greg trudged back to his car, his feet pushing away the snow as he walked. What he wouldn't give for a Christmas miracle right now.

With a heavy sigh he proceeded to open the door, only to find himself spinning around as he heard the sound of a small shop bell ring out. The tiny jingle notifying him that some place nearby was still open.

Dodging the cabs that carried their passengers to and from last minute celebrations, Greg found a small store, its light shining brightly against the dark night sky. His eyes scanned the display in the window in hopes that something would catch his attention. And there it was, a simple snow globe, the scene inside the dome reminiscent of the first night that he and (Y/n) had kissed.

Rushing inside, he pulled out all the money from his pockets and dropped it onto the counter. An old lady smiling broadly at him as she handed him the item he had asked to see. It was perfect. It wasn't much, but Greg knew that (Y/n) would love it.

                                                           >>-------------------------------<<

Greg looked at his watch. It was getting late and he was beginning to get worried. He knew that (Y/n) had had to go and see Sherlock, and that she would be there as soon as she had finished, but it was nearly midnight, nearly Christmas day, and (Y/n) still wasn't there.

A sudden knock on his front door made Greg jump from his seat, his heart pounding as he opened the ingress to find a tired looking (Y/n).

"I'm sorry Greg. I didn't mean to be so late, but you know what it's like when either of my brothers are involved, time sort of got away from me. And then I needed to find you a gift, and........well, at least I'm here now." (Y/n) said, as threw her arms around his neck and kissed him softy.

"Merry Christmas, honey." (Y/n) continued, as the clocks rang out the midnight hour.

Greg couldn't help but feel as though he should pinch himself as his arms wrapped themselves around (Y/n)'s waist. It had nearly been a year, and despite everything, despite how Sherlock always seemed to be complaining about their relationship, (Y/n) had stuck by him. And for once in his long life, the world was finally being good to him.

"I.......I have something for you." Greg chuckled as he rushed off to the adjacent room, remembering that that was exactly what he had said to her when he had handed her the balloon animal.

"I know it's not much, but.........well...... I hope you like it." Greg told her hesitantly, as he rushed back into the room, and handed (Y/n) the item that had been neatly wrapped.

"Oh, Greg. You didn't have to get me anything." (Y/n) told him, as she reached into her bag and pulled out a similarly wrapped gift.

"If I had had a little more time, I would have bought you something better. But.......I hope you like it too." (Y/n) said, as she handed her gift to Greg and the pair sat down on his old sofa.

Greg couldn't laugh as he saw his gift. (Y/n) doing the same as she opened hers. The two looking down at the exact same snow globe.

"I knew I had to get it as soon as I saw it. It reminded me of the first night we kissed. That walk through the streets as the snow was falling. London had never looked more beautiful, and I knew that it wasn't the lights, the music, or the snow that made it so perfect. It was you, Greg. And I knew then that I was never going to let you go." (Y/n) told him, as she leaned over and kissed him. Greg pulling her close to his side as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I love it too. I just wish I could have got you something real. Something perfect. Something that would show you that you hadn't made a mistake by being with me." Greg replied, as he turned his own globe upside down, and watched as the sparkling snowflakes slowly fell down on the happy kissing couple in the scene.

"This is perfect, Greg. I love it. And I love you. I told you. I don't need expensive gifts, grandiose shows of wealth spent on items that mean nothing. This simple thing means everything to me. And so do you. I don't think for one second that I have made a mistake by loving you. And I don't care what Sherlock or Mycroft thinks about our relationship. You are all I ever wanted for Christmas." (Y/n) replied, as she turned her globe upside down. The two of them smiling as the snow fell.

It may not have been what he had intended, or what he had wanted to give her. But as he and (Y/n) curled up on the sofa, the pair chuckling about their gifts. Greg knew that this too, was all he had ever wanted for Christmas.