Just a bit of drabble between Lestrade and John. Just Lestrade giving John advice on how to deal with his new flatmate. There's of course implied Sherlock/Lestrade.
"Y'know he's a bit of a handful, right?" Lestrade took a drink from his almost empty glass.
"I got that, yeah," John replied simply.
"You'll hate him a lot."
"Hmm?"
"Well, it's just his overall personality sometimes can drive you to hate him." The DI took another drink from his pint and sighed heavily.
John looked over at Lestrade his thoughts running loosely in his head. He thought of Sherlock for a moment and found himself laughing quietly. "Hate him? Nah, don't think you can ever truly hate him."
Lestrade studied the doctor who was focusing on his drink. He seemed to be a decent man, a good man even. Too good of a man for the likes of Sherlock, though most men were. It's not that Sherlock didn't deserve a man like him. Someone who's strong and straightforward, a level headed thinker with a brave heart. A man like that is exactly what Sherlock needed in his life to keep him somewhat sane.
He thought back to when he had been in John's shoes. When he was the good man who could be there for Sherlock. He missed those foolish days.
"The thing is though, you'll end up loving him more than you'll hate him. It's an odd thing, loving Sherlock, that is."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. It's something you really can't help, I guess."
John nodded slowly unsure of how to respond. He wasn't exactly sure what his thoughts were on Sherlock Homes. He hadn't known the man for long and knew there were definite things to dislike about him, but also definite things to like about him. For instance his complete brilliance or the naiveté he had towards the ever so simple things in life.
"There's one thing more to think about," Lestrade began. "He won't change, not for anyone. He'll just leave you hurt."
He saw the hurt that filled the detective inspector's eyes and couldn't help but feel a slight pain rush through him. Would this be him in the future? A sad broken man?
God, he hoped not.
The two men finished their drinks and stood at the bar. Lestrade clasped John on the shoulder. "You could be different, though."
And with that he left leaving John with an unsure feeling buried deep in the pit of his stomach, one that he hoped he'd never have to deal with.