trashchildren | For Joan

"It's alright," Harry tells Joan. "He's not saying anything I haven't told myself." He'd kept his conscience clear for a long time saying he was impartial, until he realized that by doing so, he had already picked a side. It's not like Sherlock can hurt his feelings by saying something like that.

"Anyway, I meant more... theatrical aspects of it," he elaborates to Sherlock. "Being distractions. Playing a.. frantic husband in a yelling match with his wife. Or a clueless tourist having wandered into a restricted section. That kind of stuff."

"I see," Sherlock says. "Assuming such roles is a practice Watson and I are quite familiar with as well. At one point we were able to survey a suspect's home by telling him Watson was a world class security expert."

"That was a little more believable than the time you said I was a bodyguard with multiple black belts," Joan remarks dryly.

"You can hold your own in a fight," he says.

"Not the same thing."

Ted has been mostly sitting back and listening with the feeling that he has absolutely no idea what they're talking to, and feeling a little bit like he stumbled into a heist movie or something. The normal guy to everyone else's wackiness. While also being worried about Rupert and the trial and all that. So he hasn't tried to participate much.

At this point he feels a little bit more confident speaking up though. "I'd hire you as my body guard," he says with a smile, squeezing Joan's hand to get her attention.

Ted's statement warms Joan's heart, and she gives him a smile, then leans her head against his shoulder, squeezing his hand back.

"See?" Sherlock says. "Entirely believable."

"I mean, I've never seen you fight, so I can't comment on the black belt part.." he adds. "But you're probably better than me."

Ted could probably still perform a decent tackle (when he doesn't have a broken leg), but that's as far as his fighting skills go. He generally tries to avoid and defuse fights before they start.

"I should probably get going," Harry says, setting down his teacup and getting to his feet. He's taken up enough of their time.

"One of these days I'll teach you single stick," she promises. The antiquated and very British sport doesn't seem practical, but apply it to baton and it's extremely useful.

Sherlock gets to his feet as well. "I can show you out."

Joan lifts her head. "Thanks so much for this information. And please thank your friends, too."

Ted smiles at Joan - he'd like that. Mostly cause trying new things is fun, and if it's with Joan, it's doubly so. But it'll have to wait a little while. (Depending on how much single stick requires him to move his feet.)

"I will," Harry answers Joan, and shakes all of their hands, before heading for the door.

"Let me you know if you need me. I'll be following the trial even after I go back home," he says to Sherlock, gives him a smile, and then heads outside.

Across the street, partially hidden, is a buff man with long hair and a scowl. Once Harry exits, the guy starts following after him, having obviously been waiting for him. He crosses the street, catching up with Harry, and then... starts chatting with him as they walk. Obviously someone who was there to watch his back.

"We will. And please remember that should you be in need, we are at your service." When the man exits, Sherlock closes and locks the door behind him.

Back in the living room, Joan picks up one of the files from the table and begins flipping through it.

Ted looks at the files on the table... and decides almost immediately that he doesn't want to deal with that. It's unpleasant, and he doubts there would be much point to him helping.

"I'm gonna go make coffee," he says, leaning forward and giving Joan a kiss on the cheek before getting to his feet.

She smiles at the kiss and looks up at him, her expression a touch concerned. "Sherlock can do that if you don't want to be on your feet."

She doesn't want to boss him around, but she also doesn't want him to feel he has to push himself past what's good for him.

"No, that's okay," he reassures, touching her shoulder for a moment before grabbing his crutches (that he did at least have the foresight to bring with him). "I also just... You know, wanna let you get on with this stuff," he adds, gesturing at the table.

She smiles and touches his hand in return for that moment. "Okay," she says, understanding where he's coming from, knowing he'd rather not concentrate on the horrible things Rupert has done.

Sherlock returns and sits across from Watson. He picks up another file and begins looking through it as well.

Ted heads to the kitchen and makes himself coffee. He wonders if he's ever going to get used to the strange world Sherlock and Joan live in when it comes to their job. But then, thankfully he doesn't really have to. With the exception of what's happened lately, they've been just fine with keeping that stuff separate.

Once the coffee is made, he goes to stand in the doorway and look at them, deep in focus, and he smiles to himself. He doesn't need to understand it to admire the dedication.

So he grabs his coffee and one crutch, and he heads to the bedroom to set up the PS5 with the television in there, while they're busy.

Joan still worries about that separation. The reason she lives with Sherlock and has until recently avoided serious relationships is exactly because her work is not separate from her life. It is her life. Ted is now part of that life, and he's incredibly understanding of the time and attention investigations take, as well as of her deep relationship with Sherlock. Still...it seems unlikely they'll be able to maintain a strict separation.

But she loves Ted, and knows Ted loves her, and knows that both of them are committed to making this work.

She and Sherlock read and talk quietly about the information in the files. Sherlock suggests that they tack the new information up to the wall, visualize how it all fits together.

"Not here," Joan responds softly. "We can put it up in 221B later. This is Ted's space."

It takes a while just to unpack set up the machine, and after that, it has to download and install lots of updates, for both the console and the game.

While that's working on its own, he orders a grocery delivery. He's only just gotten to open the game and make sure it works when the doorbell rings.

"Hey, Sherlock, can you help me with this? I ordered groceries," he requests as he comes out of the bedroom on his crutches.

Joan and Sherlock are both bending over a file, talking in hushed tones, when the doorbell rings. They look up, and Joan smiles at Ted as he merges from the bedroom.

"Of course," Sherlock says, standing to help Ted retrieve the groceries.

It is actually really good to see Joan getting to sink her teeth into something again. He knows working on Rupert's case probably isn't exactly fun, but it seems like it's rewarding. It's good to have that kind of intellectual stimulation, and there hasn't been a lot of opportunity for it lately.

He opens the door and thanks the delivery guy, and lets Sherlock carry the box to the kitchen.

"Alright, I'll handle this, you guys keep doing what you're doing," he says, shooing Sherlock back out of the kitchen and giving Joan a smile.

It is good to be working on a case, even if the case happens to be deeply personal at this point. At very least the plane incident doesn't directly relate to her and Ted, so she can at least mostly decouple her personal feelings from it. (Not that they haven't done personal cases...they certainly have. It's just a little less stressful this way.)

She smiles fondly back at Ted. Sherlock comes to sit next to her again, and she mouths "love you" before turning back to the documents.

Ted blows her a quick little kiss (once Sherlock's back is turned), before he closes the door to the kitchen, to give them all privacy to do their own things.

He puts a podcast on speaker on his phone, and then he starts organizing the groceries, packing away stuff he'll need later, and assembling stuff he's going to use now.

Then he sets about making food for a picnic. Several varieties of sandwiches. Cut-up fruits and healthy snacks. A smoothie, just in case that gets too heavy. He does make sure to stay seated as much as possible as he does this, taking his time and enjoying the process.

By the time he finally emerges from the kitchen, it's been a number of hours since they started working on this evidence.

"Alright, y'all," he says to get their attention. "I'm gonna go shave, change my clothes, all that good stuff, and then we are going to have a picnic in the park." (He has a kid - he knows to give at least a 10 minute warning for activity changes so they can wrap up.)

As Ted works in the kitchen, Sherlock and Joan sift methodically through all of the documents. There's no overtly evil declarations, no direct orders to have the plane sabotaged, no smoking gun. And yet when everything is put together, the narrative it establishes is clear. Everything was set up in advance that the other members of the board would be on that specific plane at that specific location and time, and Rupert would absolutely not be. And then there was a wire transfer of money. A sticky note on the document identified it as being to a man suspected in partisan bombings in several locations in Europe, sort of a terrorist-for-hire.

When Ted emerges Joan looks up and takes a breath, feeling like she's been holding her breath for god knows how long.

"We'll wrap up," she responds with a small smile, not a happy smile but definitely a grateful one. She'll appreciate the break.

Ted holds his crutches with his elbows for a second to give her two thumbs up, before heading to the bathroom. He doesn't take too long, and he's basically wearing the same thing once he's finished - just a fresh change.

"Would you like to freshen up before we head out?" he asks Joan. They did get dressed and her hair is in braids, so it's not strictly necessary, but she might want to feel a bit fresher if they're heading outside for the first time in a while.

"A little," she says, smiling at him as she sets the folder down. "It would be nice to at least go to the bathroom and wash my face. And I should take my medicine before we go out."

Sherlock gets up and helps Joan to her feet and then into the wheelchair.

Ted waits by the bathroom for Sherlock to wheel her over, so he can take it from there for the bathroom stuff.

"Do we have like a backpack or basket or something?" he asks Sherlock. "I prepared food, it's on the table and on the bottom shelf in the fridge, would you mind packing it up?"

"I believe we have a basket at 221B," Sherlock remarks, turning to go find it.

Joan looks up at Ted and reaches for his hand.

"You okay?" she asks softly. She's sure he'd rather not have Rupert encroaching on their safety and healing here.

He smiles, grateful for her concern, and leans down to give her a kiss. (He tastes like coffee and strawberries. He may have already snacked on a few.)

"I'm good," he answers. "I made a bunch of yummy stuff for us." Making food soothes him, especially when it's for other people. Something about the act of caretaking. So while he definitely doesn't want to think too much about Rupert (until he has to), at least he had the opportunity to distance himself from it.

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