Now fully clothed and dry, John joins Lestrade, a mug of hot tea in each hand.
"Here."
"Thanks John."
"No problem." He takes a small sip and sits on couch next to his friend. "Now, why in hell did you decide to suddenly barge into my flat?" He watches Lestrade stare into his tea as if it held the answers to everything.
"I… uh," Lestrade clears his throat, "It's Jenny.. She… She left me…" His finger rubs against the side of the mug before he looks up at John. "Officially that is." He laughs sadly.
"Oh Greg, I'm sorry. I thought, I thought you two worked it out…?"
Lestrade shugs, "There really wasn't much to work out. We just didn't click anymore you know? It's been years in the work now but I guess… I guess it became too much for her. To look at me and know we didn't love each other anymore."
"I, god, I'm so sorry Greg. Is there any way I can help?"
Lestrade silently thanked whoever was the cause for John to be so damn giving. And patient.
"Yeah, that's why I'm here actually. Thought it would be better to ask in person than over the phone." He finally sets down his mug and turns to face John.
"Just go ahead and ask Greg, there's no need to look like the world is going to end."
'Oh John, you have no idea.'
"Can… can I stay with you for a while? Just until I get myself a new place and everything. I can sleep on the couch, help out with rent, all of that…"
"Jesus, of course you can! It's the least I can do for you Greg after you help me this past year. I owe you so much mate, this is the no problem at all."
At hearing John's heartfelt words, Lestrade's stomach clenches painfully.
John continued on, unaware of his friend's internal pain, "And you don't have to sleep on the couch Greg, just take the room upstairs."
"Your room?"
"Yes, is that a problem?"
"Uh, no, thanks John."
After several beers after the attempt at tea, Lestrade watches his friend stand up and head for the kitchen.
"You sure you want me to take your room John?" He shifts his weight, hands gripping his suitcases that were brought up after the third beer. He sways slightly.
"It's fine Greg, just go upstairs and get comfortable, I'll make tea while you get settled." His voice is firm.
"Right, fine then, okay." The stairs leading up groan from the weight of Lestrade and his belongings, reaching the top, a sliver of weak light shines through the crack of the door. Pushing it open with his foot, it swings open. Lestrade lets out a gush of air. "Oh John.." The bed is neat and made, seemingly unused for quite a while. The air is chill and musty, no sign of John staying in the room for longer than needed. The room looks as if it has been devoid of human life for months. The only signs of someone ever living here were random pieces of clothing or scrapes of paper lying about.
Lestrade sets his things on the bed and sits beside them, "John, I am so sorry."
John is leaning against the counter on his third cuppa. "So, do you want to, I don't know head out to the pub or something?"
Remembering Mycroft's words, Lestrade shakes his head quickly. "No, no. Why don't we just pop in a movie or watch some crap telly and drink some beers here instead. I, uh, really don't want to go out yet…"
"Sure! Okay, so what do you have in mind?" Before Lestrade can answer, John throws up his hand, "Wait, no, I know just the movie. Hold on." John walks out of the kitchen and heads to a shelf that holds the few movies he owns among medical books and magazines. Eyes scanning, he spots the movie in question, "Ah-ha!", with an air of triumphant he slides it out and stops the door showing the movie to Lestrade. He raises an eyebrow and chuckles, "Really John, Monty Python and the Holy Grail?"
"Oi! It's a classic mate!"
Lestrade laughs while a small smile plays on John's lips.
"Okay, okay. Bring it on Sir John."