"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."
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?"
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.
He tastes amazing, and Joan hums softly as she kisses him back. She can tell that he's relaxed and happy, and she's glad. She can do something with the information they've been given, but he isn't an investigator. It would likely only cause him grief. If she can prevent that, she will.
"I can't wait to taste the yummy stuff," she says with a smile.
He's also very ready to make sure Joan has some breaks to feel relaxed and happy as well. He understands when she wants to be focused on a case, and doesn't want to be interrupted, but right now their circumstances are kind of special, and he will allow himself to interrupt to make sure she's taking care of herself emotionally.
"Alright, then let's get cracking," he says with with smile, wheeling her into the bathroom and helping her with whatever she might need, while Sherlock packs up the food.
With his help she uses the toilet, then washes her hands and her face. The braids Ted gave her are still in and still look good, so she decides to just leave them. At some point later that day she wants to shower, but she can hold off for the moment.
"Can you get me my meds and some water?" she asks as he wheels her out of the bathroom.
"Yup. Though I think I'm gonna bring you to them than the other way around," he says with a chuckle. Ironicallt it's easier to push the wheelchair around than it is to carry cups of water in his current state.
He remembered to take his meds after shaving too, thankfully. Having a visitor definitely made him forget about it for a few hours. Though that means he took them late enough in the day that he probably shouldn't take more until next morning.
Meds taken, both of them freshened up, food packed. Seems like they're just about ready.
"Right right right.." Ted considers, looking at Joan for her opinion. "Sherlock carries you, I carry the wheelchair?" he suggests. It's less of a carry than gently wheeling it down the steps, but it's light enough and the steps are few enough that it shouldn't be a problem. "I'm guessing you'd rather save your strength for when we are actually in the park."
Ted makes his way down as well, carefully turning the wheelchair so he can gently and controlled pull it down the steps without jostling all the food too much. Once down he parks the wheelchair and takes the basket out of it, so Joan can sit back down. He's very glad Sherlock's at least uninjured, or this would've been a real challenge.
"Do you mind having the basket in your lap so Sherlock can push the wheelchair? I should probably use the crutches since we're walking for a bit," Ted says. Leaning on the wheelchair works, but it's probably not really ideal. He can't quite take his weight off the same way.
"Just somewhere up in Regent's Park that's not too crowded?" he suggests. He doesn't know it well enough to know like, the perfect spot or anything. "Somewhere by the lake and not too close to the road?"
no subject
no subject
Sherlock returns and sits across from Watson. He picks up another file and begins looking through it as well.
no subject
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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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.
no subject
"Of course," Sherlock says, standing to help Ted retrieve the groceries.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.)
no subject
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.
no subject
"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.
no subject
Sherlock gets up and helps Joan to her feet and then into the wheelchair.
no subject
"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?"
no subject
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.
no subject
"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.
no subject
"I can't wait to taste the yummy stuff," she says with a smile.
no subject
"Alright, then let's get cracking," he says with with smile, wheeling her into the bathroom and helping her with whatever she might need, while Sherlock packs up the food.
no subject
"Can you get me my meds and some water?" she asks as he wheels her out of the bathroom.
no subject
He remembered to take his meds after shaving too, thankfully. Having a visitor definitely made him forget about it for a few hours. Though that means he took them late enough in the day that he probably shouldn't take more until next morning.
Meds taken, both of them freshened up, food packed. Seems like they're just about ready.
no subject
"How shall we get Watson down the steps?" he asks, surveying the wheelchair and the picnic basket and Ted on crutches.
no subject
no subject
Sherlock sets the basket down and helps Joan stand. He places the basket on the wheelchair, then carefully scoops Joan up into his arms.
no subject
"Do you mind having the basket in your lap so Sherlock can push the wheelchair? I should probably use the crutches since we're walking for a bit," Ted says. Leaning on the wheelchair works, but it's probably not really ideal. He can't quite take his weight off the same way.
no subject
"Where would you like to go?" Sherlock asks Ted.
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)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...