"Right? That's what I keep saying," he agrees with a chuckle. "Come here," he adds, lifting his arm up so she can snuggle in close and he can wrap his arms around her. Part of him definitely wants to blow everything off and just stay here for the rest of the day.
She chuckles as well, then gladly snuggles closer, nestling against him with a happy sigh, nuzzling a little against his shoulder. She knows he needs to talk to the team today, but for the moment she's just going to enjoy being in his arms as long as possible.
Ted lets out a muffled "mmf" as her towel turban headbutts him. "Hang on," he says, and reaches up to move it and his face a bit. "There we go." He gives her turban a kiss for comic effect.
Ted does as suggested, reaching up and untwirling it, before gently tugging it off, careful not to pull at her hair. Once he's tossed the towel aside, he kisses her damp hair instead. "That's better."
"Much," she agrees, snuggling against him again, his bare skin warm against hers. It feels so good to be in his arms, with nothing between them, just their bodies softly pressed together.
It makes it very easy to forget about the outside world. And about their current somewhat fragile states. She's very nice and soft against him, and he wants nothing more than to keep her safe and happy.
She feels safe and happy. There's so much they're facing right now, from their physical injuries to a confrontation with Rupert Mannion somewhere on the horizon to concerns about their friends and family. For this moment, though, they can set all of that aside and just be together. Just rest together.
"I love you," she whispers back.
The warmth of his arms and the sound and feel of his breathing soon lull her into a comfortable sleep.
Ted doesn't fall asleep, not more than perhaps lightly dozing off, yet he doesn't get bored either, just lying here like this. He daydreams about living here with Joan, of Henry coming to stay with them. He worries about what's going to happen with Rupert, of how Rebecca is doing. He tries to plan what he's going to tell the team.
With all the stuff that's going through his brain, those few hours seem to go by pretty quick. Eventually he figures it's probably time for him to go, and he carefully tries to slip out from under her without waking her too badly.
She wakes up, shifting with a quiet hum, her eyes fluttering open. She sees him and smiles. She knows he has to go, but also that it won't be that long before he's back.
"Mmm. I should probably get dressed so Sherlock can come in if he wants." She doesn't necessarily think she needs such close observation, but she knows it would make Sherlock feel better. Ted too, probably.
"I'll get your clothes," he says, and gives her a quick kiss before getting out of bed and grabbing the bathrobe. "And my clothes too, for that matter," he adds with a smile. "I'll probably stop by my apartment and grab some more stuff."
Ted goes to pick up her clothes, then pauses as he sees that's clearly a jersey, and he holds it out to see what it is. Then he gives Sherlock a look of entirely unconvincing exasperated disapproval, though it gets replaced by an amused smile almost immediately.
He heads back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. "I'm afraid you're gonna have to go topless, as this was the only thing Sherlock brought back," he says, holding up the jersey.
Sherlock lifts an eyebrow at Ted's clearly teasing disapproval, smiling a little to himself as he refocuses his attention on his laptop.
Joan laughs and rolls her eyes when Ted shows her the jersey. "Oh please. Joe Namath is gold. He led the Jets to a Super Bowl championship in 1969. And he's my dad's favorite player."
"Yeah, and what have they been doing since then, huh?" Ted asks, playfully antagonistic and teasing. "Very next year, who won then? That's right, KC Chiefs, that's who," he says, grinning and holding up his own Kansas City t-shirt (that isn't sports related, but still gets the point across). "Then who won last year, huh? The Chiefs, baby!"
She laughs, her smile wide and fond. "You're cute when you're bragging about your team," she says. "I'll grant you that the Chiefs are a better team. Joe Namath is still a legend."
Her smile widens.
"But get me a Chief's jersey and I'll gladly wear it. Occasionally."
She kisses him back as enthusiastically as she can. She loves how happy this makes him. Football and Kansas City both mean so much to him, so they mean a lot to her, too.
"Two-time MVP," she agrees, taking the jersey. "Help me put it on?"
Ted nods, grabbing the jersey and finding the right holes for her to put her arms through, then her head. Then he grabs her underwear, and helps her on with that as well. "You know, I'm much more used to taking this off than putting it on," he jokes with a smile.
Joan shifts and moves to help out as much as possible. She smiles at his quip. "I'm looking forward to getting back to that," she says, her expression playfully sultry. She enjoys their sex life. It's also part of the normal she's wanting to get back to.
Ted smiles, almost shy-looking in the face of her sultriness, but still very much part of the flirting. "Well, when we do, keep in mind that if you want to just lie back and relax, I am more than happy to pick up the slack," he points out, almost cheeky.
"Mmm...that sounds nice," she says with a smile. She raises her eyebrows suggestively. "Maybe we can do that a little sooner."
Not at that very moment, of course, since he needs to go and she needs to rest, but she wouldn't exactly object that evening or perhaps sometime tomorrow.
Ted grins and nods, then goes to sit next to her to kiss her. He has to rein himself in a little to make sure it's not the kind of kiss where they get carried away, because yes, he needs to go before the team finishes for the day. If they're going to do that, he definitely wants to take their time with it.
![[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
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
"I love you," he whispers quietly.
no subject
"I love you," she whispers back.
The warmth of his arms and the sound and feel of his breathing soon lull her into a comfortable sleep.
no subject
With all the stuff that's going through his brain, those few hours seem to go by pretty quick. Eventually he figures it's probably time for him to go, and he carefully tries to slip out from under her without waking her too badly.
no subject
"Heading out?"
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Ted will find that Sherlock brought over Joan's green Joe Namath New York Jets jersey, doubtlessly for Ted's amusement.
no subject
He heads back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. "I'm afraid you're gonna have to go topless, as this was the only thing Sherlock brought back," he says, holding up the jersey.
no subject
Joan laughs and rolls her eyes when Ted shows her the jersey. "Oh please. Joe Namath is gold. He led the Jets to a Super Bowl championship in 1969. And he's my dad's favorite player."
no subject
no subject
Her smile widens.
"But get me a Chief's jersey and I'll gladly wear it. Occasionally."
no subject
He sits down next to her and gives her an excited, happy kiss.
"Namath is pretty legendary," he concedes gladly, handing her the jersey.
no subject
"Two-time MVP," she agrees, taking the jersey. "Help me put it on?"
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Not at that very moment, of course, since he needs to go and she needs to rest, but she wouldn't exactly object that evening or perhaps sometime tomorrow.
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...