trashchildren | For Joan

It feels good just to be close like this.

"A medical degree isn't usually a PhD," she explains. "I'm not licensed, so I'm not allowed to practice medicine. It's unethical to call myself a doctor under those circumstances."

"Huh," Ted answers, always interested to learn something new. "So I guess if I want to say something like that, I'll say... 'studied medicine'," he suggests instead.

"That's allowed," she says with a smile.

"Your lack of license hasn't affected your medical skills, Watson," Sherlock points out. "A fact both Ted and I can attest to. Why should a piece of paper determine whether or not you are worthy of the title 'doctor?'"

"I guess it depends on context," Ted muses. "If you're using at as some sort of leverage, that's probably not great, but if someone had a heart attack on a plane, and the flight attendant was doing the 'Is there a doctor here?!?'," he continues, dramatically proclaiming the cheesy line of course. "You wouldn't say no."

Joan laughs softly. "You both have good points," she says with a smile. "Technically I can't legally present myself as a doctor. But you're right, if there was an emergency and I didn't have time to explain why I'm not really a doctor, I don't think the law will mind. And as we're not in a formal setting, if you guys want to call me a doctor I won't object."

"We can save it for-- No, sorry, I'm not gonna say that," he stops, smiling to himself. He finishes off his food, setting the empty bowl on the nightstand, then reaches over to take Joan's hand. He's full of good food, and he's cuddling with his girlfriend (as much as is appropriate while Sherlock is in the room), and it's a nice break from all the stress.

Joan doesn't know how Ted would have finished that sentence, but she lets it go. She tugs the towel off her head with her free hand before settling against Ted with a sigh and a smile.

"This is nice."

He was going to make a naughty joke about playing doctor. It's probably better not to ask. Another thing not appropriate while Sherlock is in the room. (Or he would make some sort of comment that would make Ted mildly uncomfortable, probably.)

"Want me to braid your hair?" he suggests. "I could do like pigtail braids so they're okay to sleep on."

Probably better without Sherlock in the room, yes. That aside, though, Joan is an adventurous lover who would very much enjoy exploring that kind of play. When she's up for it. And when they're alone. Because Sherlock would certainly take the opportunity to make the most inappropriate comment possible.

"I'd like that," she says, sitting up a little so he can reach her hair.

Ted was thinking about the 'kids playing doctor' type of insinuation, and would absolutely definitely not mention the other kind in front of Sherlock, because yes, that would be somewhat mortifying. (Which is not to say he wouldn't be interested in trying, it's just the kind of thing he would be extra private about.)

Ted sits up a bit as well, turning around to he can face her. "Hey, Sherlock, could you get a hairbrush and some hair bands, please?"

Joan tends to be private as well, which is why Sherlock would be explicit to needle her. Well. Extra explicit at least.

Sherlock collects their bowls and heads out to put them away and in search of a brush and hair bands. He returns a few minutes later with the requested items. He sets them on the bed by Ted, then retreats to return to the living room to give them some alone time.

Ted starts parting Joan's hair while Sherlock is off fetching stuff. He quietly thanks him, then starts brushing her hair and parting it into sections. He really likes her hair, so nice and soft to the touch, though of course it's a bit damp right now. That just makes it easier to braid.

Joan closes her eyes and smiles softly as he works on her hair.

"If you had a daughter, what would you want to name her?" she asks quietly. She had wanted to say "if we had a daughter," but if the thought of having their own place was too much, the thought of having kids together is right out.

"Well, Michelle wanted to name her after her grandmother, Emma. But now? I dunno. Maybe one of my grandmothers, but then your choices are Ethel and Maude, so," he answers with a chuckle. "Hey, you wanna know who I'm named for?"

Your choices. She smiles at that.

"I've thought of naming a girl Mary after my mother," she remarks. She raises her eyebrows at Ted's offer. "Sure! Were you named after a relative?"

He's definitely imagined having kids with Joan before. In the vague, possible future, sure, but the thought has occurred to him. After they talked about how she'd wanted to adopt.

"No, not a relative. Well, how about you guess? Not that many famous Theodores out there," he challenges her, grinning.

She likes the thought of having kids with Ted. She knows he's great with kids, and that any kids they have together will be so loved and cherished.

"Were your parents Teddy Roosevelt fans?"

"Nope, though that's the obvious one," he answers, smiling. "Remember, my dad was a sports fan too," he hints, giving her shoulder a little nudge. He carefully finishes one braid and ties it off with a hairband. "Can you turn around a bit?" he asks, scooting as far as he can to get to her other side.

Joan thinks about it as she moves, a welcome distraction from how difficult moving is. She settles, taking a couple deep breaths to encourage her muscles to relax.

"Was your dad a baseball fan?" she asks finally.

Ted kisses her shoulder, as comfort for how much she struggles to move. Though at least she's able to. That's already better than yesterday.

"Heey, there you go!" he says when she asks about the baseball. He leans around her a bit to offer her an excited high five.

His kisses are so sweet, and she's grateful for his support. It's hard to have to struggle with simple things, but that pain is soothed by his care. She knows he doesn't see her as less capable. He feels for her, but he doesn't pity her, and that's important.

She gives him the high five with a grin. "So, why did your dad love Ted Williams enough to name his son after him?"

"Well, his dad was from Boston, and took him to a bunch of games as a kid. And Williams was my grandpa's favorite player," Ted explains, going back to brushing and braiding her hair. "So it was like... something that reminded him of good father-son bonding, you know? Wasn't so much about the baseball as it was the time they spent together."

She smiles. "That's wonderful." Joan doesn't know much about Ted's dad. Little more than the fact he died when Ted was sixteen, really. But the clear love he has for him and Ted's devotion to his own son suggests to Joan that the elder Lasso was an amazing person and father.

Ted himself doesn't know that much about his dad. Obviously he knows a fair amount, but there was so much they just never got to talk about.

"And then... Well, Henry's named after my dad," he says, a bit softer. "Once we found out it was a boy, there wasn't really much question. What about you, why'd your parents name you Joan?" he asks, not giving her much time to comment on Henry's name. "Or... Jingyi?" he adds. He gets pretty close, though still with that Kansas sound.

She smiles as he says her Chinese name. It's close, closer than it was before, and Joan wonders if he's been practicing. She wouldn't be surprised.

"Jingyi was my grandmother's name," she says. "My mom's mom. She was an immigrant from China and didn't really speak a lot of English, and I remember my mom having us spend time with her so we'd learn Mandarin. I was better at it when I was a kid. I'm pretty sure Joan was my father's idea."

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