Ted Lasso (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theodorelasso) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trashchildren2021-06-24 07:33 pm
theodorelasso) wrote in trashchildren2021-06-24 07:33 pm
"There you go," Ted answers, smiling when she teases him. He actually feels a bit better too, for having made sure she's taking care of herself. And just for talking to her in general, of course.
"What are they like, by the way? You haven't really spoken about them," he points out, curious to hear about the people she and Sherlock work with usually.
"What are they like, by the way? You haven't really spoken about them," he points out, curious to hear about the people she and Sherlock work with usually.
She smiles as he asks her about Gregson and Marcus. She lies down with a sigh, relaxing.
"Captain Gregson is great. He's always been good to me and Sherlock. It's not always easy to be a consultant with a police department. A lot of cops are resentful of us. And I get it. We're often called in on cases that the detectives in the department couldn't handle. We're also technically civilians, so there are a lot of restrictions that don't apply to us. Even when he's gotten crap for using us, though, he's been in our corner. Honestly, I think Sherlock sees him as a father figure. Which is good, because Sherlock's father is honestly pretty horrible."
"Captain Gregson is great. He's always been good to me and Sherlock. It's not always easy to be a consultant with a police department. A lot of cops are resentful of us. And I get it. We're often called in on cases that the detectives in the department couldn't handle. We're also technically civilians, so there are a lot of restrictions that don't apply to us. Even when he's gotten crap for using us, though, he's been in our corner. Honestly, I think Sherlock sees him as a father figure. Which is good, because Sherlock's father is honestly pretty horrible."
"The one with way too much money, right?" Ted asks. "Well, I definitely get what it's like when the people you're trying to help are resentful," he says with a soft chuckle.
Edited 2021-07-13 16:13 (UTC)
She chuckles. "Yes you do. And yeah, way too much," she confirms with a smile. Her voice turns somber. "It's more than that, though. He has a lot of power. Like, a lot. The sort of power where people who cross him wind up dying in freak accidents."
"Yeesh," Ted answers. Honestly, he knows there are plenty of people with that kind of power - but hopefully there are way fewer who exercize that power. "Suddenly glad Sherlock likes me," he says, then quickly adds, "not that he would ever do anything like that."
"Oh yeah, he would never do anything like that." Her lips quirk. "He'd kill you himself."
That actually makes Ted laugh. Despite having been actually threatened with murder just earlier today. It's too ludicrous to take even remotely seriously. "Yeah, I bet he would. If you want it done well, do it yourself."
"He takes pride in his work," she says with a smile. She's glad he's okay with joking like this. She and Sherlock can have dark senses of humor sometimes. Occupational hazard.
Ted has a selective dark humor. He wouldn't want to joke about most other people, nor things that are a bit too close to reality for comfort. But if it's far enough remove from reality, then it's safe.
They go on to discuss other random things for a while, and Ted feels a lot lighter after having the conversation. After that, Shaun arrives, and Ted has to hang up.
He doesn't call Joan in the evening, but he does text her a goodnight message. He just doesn't want to become entirely dependent on her comfort and distraction to be able to sleep. He does wake up from a nightmare at some point, but manages to calm himself back down and eventually fall back asleep. It's progress, if only a little.
They go on to discuss other random things for a while, and Ted feels a lot lighter after having the conversation. After that, Shaun arrives, and Ted has to hang up.
He doesn't call Joan in the evening, but he does text her a goodnight message. He just doesn't want to become entirely dependent on her comfort and distraction to be able to sleep. He does wake up from a nightmare at some point, but manages to calm himself back down and eventually fall back asleep. It's progress, if only a little.
Joan likes being on the phone with him as he falls asleep, but she totally understands his desire to train himself to fall asleep without it. Her return text lets him know that she's there if he needs her. She thinks about going back to her work, but decides instead to text Marcus and ask if he's free to get a drink with her. They meet in a bar frequented by cops and share a couple beers. Joan talks a little about Ted, how amazing he is and how much she misses him. Marcus is sympathetic, having lost relationships himself due to the job. They talk about work, about recent cases, about Sherlock. He walks her home.
The next morning Joan wakes up to a text from Sherlock.
Perry Perkins. Not an alias.
Well that answers her first question.
She texts Ted.
We have a name.
She throws herself into research, looking for mentions of the man in anything she can get her hands on, and turning to Everyone for help, promising them tickets to the next Richmond game in exchange.
It's only an hour before Everyone gets back to her with Perry's bank records, which showed a recent deposit of 25 thousand pounds from a Swiss bank account. The fact that he was paid so much only bolsters the Moriarty theory.
Joan contacts Sherlock, and the two of them do everything in their power to figure out who made that transfer. They fail.
By the evening Joan is at her wit's end. She hasn't talked to Ted since that text, too busy and too focused. When Sherlock tells her that their last resource fell through, Joan makes a decision.
The coffee shop is small and cozy, the sort of place that sells art and indie music CDs. Someone might notice that all of the employees are women.
"May I help you?" the barista, a woman with blue hair and a nose ring, says as Joan steps up to the counter.
"You know who I am," Joan says, a statement and not a question.
The barista stares at her impassively. Her non-answer is answer enough.
"I have a message for your boss," Joan says. "Tell her that if she ever hurts Ted Lasso again, I will not rest until I have burned her entire empire to the ground."
"One soy milk latte coming up," the woman says, ringing it up.
Joan pays for the same drink that killed Andrew and almost killed her, then leaves. She goes home and spends hours staring at the crazy wall, thinking about the Napoleon of Crime. She falls asleep on the couch.
She wakes to the ring of the doorbell. When she goes to the door she sees that an envelope has been slipped under the door. She looks outside. Whoever left the envelope is gone.
Joan picks up the envelope and opens it. It's a card. On the front is a picture of a wistful-looking greyhound.
She opens the card. "Thinking of you" is printed on the inside, then below that is handwriting Joan recognizes as Moriarty's.
My dearest Watson,
I am both flattered and wounded by your message. Flattered that you would think of me, wounded that you would think I would hurt you. I suppose I must make myself clear. I have no intention to remove you from the board. You amuse me. You are also important to Sherlock. Make no mistake, my dear; I could have had your lover taken and tortured, but it would not be sporting.
You may be assured, therefore, that you and yours are protected. Pursuant of this, and in a gesture of goodwill, I have handled your problem. I hope you will understand I cannot go to the source. Please trust, however, that no one will target your dear gaffer again.
Give my regards to Sherlock.
Ever yours,
Jamie Moriarty
"Shit," Joan swears, and immediately calls Sherlock. She knows exactly what Moriarty means.
In London, Ted will find a similar envelope slipped under his door. When he opens it he finds a note and a photograph.
The note reads:
With Moriarty's regards.
And the photo is of Rupert Mannion.
The next morning Joan wakes up to a text from Sherlock.
Perry Perkins. Not an alias.
Well that answers her first question.
She texts Ted.
We have a name.
She throws herself into research, looking for mentions of the man in anything she can get her hands on, and turning to Everyone for help, promising them tickets to the next Richmond game in exchange.
It's only an hour before Everyone gets back to her with Perry's bank records, which showed a recent deposit of 25 thousand pounds from a Swiss bank account. The fact that he was paid so much only bolsters the Moriarty theory.
Joan contacts Sherlock, and the two of them do everything in their power to figure out who made that transfer. They fail.
By the evening Joan is at her wit's end. She hasn't talked to Ted since that text, too busy and too focused. When Sherlock tells her that their last resource fell through, Joan makes a decision.
The coffee shop is small and cozy, the sort of place that sells art and indie music CDs. Someone might notice that all of the employees are women.
"May I help you?" the barista, a woman with blue hair and a nose ring, says as Joan steps up to the counter.
"You know who I am," Joan says, a statement and not a question.
The barista stares at her impassively. Her non-answer is answer enough.
"I have a message for your boss," Joan says. "Tell her that if she ever hurts Ted Lasso again, I will not rest until I have burned her entire empire to the ground."
"One soy milk latte coming up," the woman says, ringing it up.
Joan pays for the same drink that killed Andrew and almost killed her, then leaves. She goes home and spends hours staring at the crazy wall, thinking about the Napoleon of Crime. She falls asleep on the couch.
She wakes to the ring of the doorbell. When she goes to the door she sees that an envelope has been slipped under the door. She looks outside. Whoever left the envelope is gone.
Joan picks up the envelope and opens it. It's a card. On the front is a picture of a wistful-looking greyhound.
She opens the card. "Thinking of you" is printed on the inside, then below that is handwriting Joan recognizes as Moriarty's.
My dearest Watson,
I am both flattered and wounded by your message. Flattered that you would think of me, wounded that you would think I would hurt you. I suppose I must make myself clear. I have no intention to remove you from the board. You amuse me. You are also important to Sherlock. Make no mistake, my dear; I could have had your lover taken and tortured, but it would not be sporting.
You may be assured, therefore, that you and yours are protected. Pursuant of this, and in a gesture of goodwill, I have handled your problem. I hope you will understand I cannot go to the source. Please trust, however, that no one will target your dear gaffer again.
Give my regards to Sherlock.
Ever yours,
Jamie Moriarty
"Shit," Joan swears, and immediately calls Sherlock. She knows exactly what Moriarty means.
In London, Ted will find a similar envelope slipped under his door. When he opens it he finds a note and a photograph.
The note reads:
With Moriarty's regards.
And the photo is of Rupert Mannion.
Edited 2021-07-14 17:53 (UTC)
Ted spends the next day trying to focus on just... living a normal life. Start the road towards getting back to work, and not worry about Turner or Moriarty or any of it. He's been all the help he can be.
He goes to work - not to actually work, but to say hi to Rebecca and the team, and to watch them practice. He hasn't made her biscuits, but he promises that he will, definitely by the time he returns to work. Everyone's just a little bit weird around him, not necessarily in a bad way, but definitely weird. But also very supportive. He realizes how much he's missed them in the week he's been gone.
He doesn't see Joan's text until he gets back home later in the day. He tells her to text him if she needs anything. When she doesn't, he assumes she's busy working. So him and Beard go out to the pub. Everyone is very supportive there too. Even Baz.
It's a good day. As good as can be at least, given the circumstances. He gives Joan a goodnight text, and tries not to worry too much when he doesn't hear back. After a moderate amount of drinking at the pub, he passes out easy.
The next day he takes it a bit easier. He knows he shouldn't be running around while he's still healing. He just spends his time reading, which is an effective way of occupying his brain.
It's early afternoon on Wednesday when the doorbell rings. Ted isn't expecting anyone, and it takes him a little while to actually get to the door in his current state. No one is there when he gets there, but there is an envelope.
His first reaction to the contents is confusion. Why on earth did someone deliver him a photo of Rupert? And then he reads the note, and his heart speeds up.
He practically runs up the stairs, as much as he's capable of running. And he immediately calls Joan. Heck, if she doesn't answer on the special phone, he has every intention of calling on the regular phone, secrecy be damned. Secrecy is probably out the window now anyway.
He goes to work - not to actually work, but to say hi to Rebecca and the team, and to watch them practice. He hasn't made her biscuits, but he promises that he will, definitely by the time he returns to work. Everyone's just a little bit weird around him, not necessarily in a bad way, but definitely weird. But also very supportive. He realizes how much he's missed them in the week he's been gone.
He doesn't see Joan's text until he gets back home later in the day. He tells her to text him if she needs anything. When she doesn't, he assumes she's busy working. So him and Beard go out to the pub. Everyone is very supportive there too. Even Baz.
It's a good day. As good as can be at least, given the circumstances. He gives Joan a goodnight text, and tries not to worry too much when he doesn't hear back. After a moderate amount of drinking at the pub, he passes out easy.
The next day he takes it a bit easier. He knows he shouldn't be running around while he's still healing. He just spends his time reading, which is an effective way of occupying his brain.
It's early afternoon on Wednesday when the doorbell rings. Ted isn't expecting anyone, and it takes him a little while to actually get to the door in his current state. No one is there when he gets there, but there is an envelope.
His first reaction to the contents is confusion. Why on earth did someone deliver him a photo of Rupert? And then he reads the note, and his heart speeds up.
He practically runs up the stairs, as much as he's capable of running. And he immediately calls Joan. Heck, if she doesn't answer on the special phone, he has every intention of calling on the regular phone, secrecy be damned. Secrecy is probably out the window now anyway.
Joan has just ended her call with Sherlock and is in the process of calling Ted on her normal phone when the burner rings. She pulls it out and answers the call.
"Ted," she says, her voice urgent. "I was just calling you."
"Ted," she says, her voice urgent. "I was just calling you."
"What-- Why?" he asks, at once alarmed but also relieved she at least picked up. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she says. It's not entirely true, but this isn't about her. "Ted...Turner Chapman has been murdered."
"..what?"
Ted's too shocked to even fully act it. He sits down heavily, running a hand down his face.
Ted's too shocked to even fully act it. He sits down heavily, running a hand down his face.
"He was found in his cell. Someone..."
She holds back on the details. He doesn't need to know how Turner died. She had known learning of the man's death would upset him, and she doesn't want to make it worse.
"I'm sorry."
She holds back on the details. He doesn't need to know how Turner died. She had known learning of the man's death would upset him, and she doesn't want to make it worse.
"I'm sorry."
Edited 2021-07-14 23:34 (UTC)
Ted is silent. Trying to process it. Once the initial shock fades a little, he's... sadder than he would've thought. Sadder than he probably should be.
"But... Who? Why?" he asks, having trouble accepting it.
"But... Who? Why?" he asks, having trouble accepting it.
"Someone acting on Moriarty's orders," she says quietly, almost numbly. "She did it to show me she wasn't the one who sent him to hurt you. And to protect you by demonstrating what will happen to anyone thinking about hurting you in the future."
It's her fault. She should never have gone to Moriarty. She should have known it would backfire.
It's her fault. She should never have gone to Moriarty. She should have known it would backfire.
Edited 2021-07-15 05:37 (UTC)
"What?" Ted asks, apparently still stuck on single word questions.
"Protect me? Wh- Did she contact you?" he asks. He's having trouble... not necessarily understanding it all, but accepting it.
"Protect me? Wh- Did she contact you?" he asks. He's having trouble... not necessarily understanding it all, but accepting it.
"I contacted her," she says softly. "It's a long story, but I went to a go-between and had them give her a message that if she ever hurt you again, I would not rest until I had burned her empire to the ground."
Ted has to take a moment to wrap his mind around that too. Joan threatening to... dismantle a criminal empire? Because of him? It's all... a lot.
"But did she... explain that she did it or something? Since you're so sure why?" he asks. And also... well, she wouldn't be the only one who's been contacted.
"But did she... explain that she did it or something? Since you're so sure why?" he asks. And also... well, she wouldn't be the only one who's been contacted.
"Someone rang my doorbell this morning and left a card. Once I read it I called Sherlock, hoping I could stop the murder. But by that point it had already happened."
Her voice is steady but very soft.
"I'm sorry," she repeats.
Her voice is steady but very soft.
"I'm sorry," she repeats.
Ted looks down at the photo, lost in thought for a moment. He doesn't blame her for it, obviously. Even if she triggered it, she wouldn't do that on purpose.
"So, if she didn't send him...?" he says, trailing off.
"So, if she didn't send him...?" he says, trailing off.
"Someone else did. And the attack probably had nothing to do with me."
She could return to London, if he still wants her to after this.
She could return to London, if he still wants her to after this.
Ted drops the photo onto the table, leaning back in his chair.
"So does that mean you're coming back?" he asks, hopefully. He has some things to process, to sort out in his brain, but... he loves her. Even if this was too much for him, he wouldn't want to break it off before at least giving it a chance. Ted doesn't quit that easy.
"So does that mean you're coming back?" he asks, hopefully. He has some things to process, to sort out in his brain, but... he loves her. Even if this was too much for him, he wouldn't want to break it off before at least giving it a chance. Ted doesn't quit that easy.
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