Ted idly strokes Joan's hand with his thumb. This break feels so important and revitalising, probably for all of them. He's so glad these two people are in his life.
He picks up a strawberry and eats one. Then he picks up another and offers to feed it to Joan. "I didn't buy grapes, sorry," he quips. Like they should have people fanning them with palm leaves.
Joan happily eats the strawberry she's offered, laughing softly as some of the juice spills over her lips. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "I think we can make do," she says, her eyes sparkling.
She glances over at Sherlock, who is probably as relaxed as Joan has ever seen him, and can't help but smile. She's so glad Ted is in her life, but she's also glad he's in Sherlock's life, too. She's experienced how knowing Ted has changed her life for the better, how his love and acceptance and optimism allowed her own care and kindness to emerge. And she can see it happening in Sherlock as well. It's so unusual for Sherlock to care about someone, to feel comfortable around someone, and to be content like this. Ted's acceptance and optimism has changed his life, too. She can tell there's also mutual love there of some sort, whether or not it's romantic from either side. She and Sherlock love each other deeply after all, and romanticism doesn't enter into it.
Ted definitely cares for Sherlock greatly. A month ago that probably wouldn't have been true, but then he fell in love with Joan real quickly too, so it makes sense. Seeing his care and patience and kindness in the past few weeks has really solidified his affection for the man.
It's not romantic though, although it maybe could've had the potential to be. But Sherlock's been fairly strongly labelled 'off-limits' in his brain, for a variety of reasons, so he wouldn't even think to go there.
It's not like with Shaun, who's also very obviously off-limits, but he knows is only going to be in his life for a short time. And who seemed to like him back. That could just be a harmless flirt that didn't need to go anywhere. Ted wasn't even really thinking about it though - it's only after Sherlock had pointed it out that Ted had started to analyze what was going on there.
Ted's not thinking about that now, though. He's making an effort not to think about Rupert either. Only non-stressful good vibes and thoughts are allowed into his brain right now. Just lying there enjoying the sun and the quiet company.
Joan moves a little closer to Ted, so their shoulders are touching. Being out here, in the sun, among the trees, together with the two men she loves, is very relaxing. They've dealt with a lot of darkness lately, but out here all that hardly even crosses her mind.
She sighs happily and turns her head to smile at Ted.
Ted looks over as she turns her head, and returns the smile. He lifts Joan's hand so he can kiss it, then mouths 'love you'. It's calm and peaceful and lovely, and he's so grateful.
And then a soccer ball bounces right through their picnic.
It doesn't manage to break anything (or anyone), but as Ted sits up in surprise, he sees the ball nestled in their picnic basket, and the small group of kids nearby looking like they're afraid they're gonna get in trouble (with one or two of them nervously giggling).
A kid yells an apology, and Ted gets to his feet, grabbing the ball. "Hey, that's alright, no harm done," Ted calls back cheerfully, picking up a crutch so he can walk a bit over to them (and away from the picnic). "Hey, you kids know how to do headers?"
Joan smiles fondly and draws his hand to her lips and kisses it, then mouths "love you" in return.
The ball startles her and she pushes herself up to sitting by the time the kids come over. She notes that Sherlock has gotten up too, scowling at the kids. But Ted grabs the ball and walks over to them, and Joan can't help but smile, her heart warmed by his instinct to engage.
The kids are still giggling amongst themselves, but they nod at his question, uncertain what he means by it but clearly curious.
"Yeah? It's when you kick the ball with your head, like this," Ted says, dropping his crutch on the ground, so he can throw the ball gently in the air, bounce it on his head, and catch it again.
"You don't kick with your head, you only kick with your feet," one kid pipes up.
"Well, you got me there," Ted answers with a chuckle. "Still, you bounce it on your head like that, right? You guys wanna try?" They all nod enthusiastically. "Alright, line up," he says, and starts gently tossing the ball to them.
There's definitely a varied amount of success, but Ted is encouraging and enthusiastic no matter how well they do. He's mostly putting his weight on one leg, using his broken one mostly for balance, so he can't actually move around much, which means their somewhat poor aim means he can only sometimes actually catch the ball when they bounce it back to him.
This doesn't actually seem to be much of a problem, as the kids are really excited to run over and fetch the ball and hand it to him, so it just becomes another aspect of them having together.
Joan is absolutely beaming as she watches Ted play with the kids. He's so sweet and kind, and obviously enjoys playing with them and making them happy. She can just imagine what he's like when he plays with Henry. And then she imagines what it would be like to watch him play with kids they have together. All of that makes her love him deeply, fiercely.
Sherlock looks over at Watson, watching her watch Ted, and he can imagine what's going through her head. He's aware of Watson's desire to be a mother, and while it's not an impulse he comes about naturally, Sherlock has come to the conclusion that if Watson were to have a child, he would be a part of said child's life. He can easily imagine Watson and Ted having a child...and just as easily imagine being party to that joy, just as he's become party to the joy of their relationship. It's a strangely pleasant thought.
They keep playing for a while, until someone who he assumes is the mom of one of the kids comes over to tell them they're leaving. Ted introduces himself and shakes her hand, chatting for a bit so she's not too worried about the kids playing with a strange man.
Then they leave, and Ted heads back over to Joan and Sherlock to sit down. Tired from standing around mostly on one leg, but also glowing with happiness after the interaction.
"Oh yeah. Even coached a kids basketball team for a little bit. And we do school visits at Richmond primary with the club sometimes," he says, grabbing a drink. "Did you know Roy is really lovely with kids?"
"Really?" she laughs at the statement about Roy. "Wow. I would not expect that. He's a great guy and everything, but I definitely wouldn't think Mr. Angry Eyebrows himself would be good with kids." She looks over at her partner with a smile. "Sherlock is surprisingly good with kids."
He looks at her with a scowl. "I don't know how you've come to that conclusion, Watson."
"You're amazing with Archie," she points out. "And I've seen you relate to older kids in our investigations."
Ted smiles warmly, not actually surprised. Sherlock's a kind man, and even if it doesn't come naturally, just treating kids as people (who require a little bit more patience and understanding) usually goes a long way.
Sherlock is about to counter Watson's assertions when Ted asks about Archie.
"He's the son of my protegee Kitty," he tells him. "Watson and I are his godparents."
"He's adorable," Joan tells Ted. "You'll have to meet him and Kitty someday."
Sherlock considers reminding Watson of the fact that Kitty is cagey around strange men, but decides not to. Ted is not like other men, and Sherlock could see Kitty feeling comfortable with him, even if she might be overcome by the man's enthusiasm at first.
"Oh, I'd love to meet her," Ted answers with a happy smile. He didn't know they were godparents, that's so lovely. "Does she live here, or back in New York, or...?"
"She lives in England primarily," Joan says. "But she works with an anti-human trafficking organization, so she spends a fair amount of time abroad. I think she's in..." Joan frowns and looks at Sherlock.
Ted raises his eyebrows and nods, both impressed and approving. "That's a real good thing to be doing," he answers. "But you said she was your protegee, so is she like, being a detective for it?"
Ted looks between them. "I.. take it there's more to this story?" he prods gently. If they dismiss it, he won't pry further, if they don't want to get into it, but he's definitely picking up on there being something more there. It almost sounds like Joan is trying to make sure Sherlock is giving her proper credit, but that doesn't seem quite right?
They glance at each other. Then Sherlock looks toward Ted.
"I took Kitty on as my protegee during a period of time when Watson and I had separated."
"That was in the wake of what happened with Mycroft," Joan says. "Which...is another story. Suffice to say, I decided I wanted to live on my own. And Sherlock decided to abandon me entirely."
"It's not quite that simple, Watson," Sherlock says quietly, looking away. "You had lost your lover, but I lost my brother, and, it seemed at the time, my partner."
He's definitely wandered into something rather complicated, yes. And apparently still somewhat sore, even if they've since made up. Given how close they are, he can imagine that separation hurt a lot, for both of them. And Ted's heart hurts in turn. Even just seeing them talk about it now, his heart aches for them both.
If Kitty was the 'rebound' protegee, it definitely sounds like a lot changed, if Joan is now godmother to her son. At least it didn't remain sore between them?
There is one point that stands out though. He'd suspected there was something sad there when Joan had mentioned him earlier, but... This sounds more sudden and painful than he'd initially thought.
"Mycroft died?" he asks quietly. Because it's hard to imagine other ways to lose a brother.
Another glance between Joan and Sherlock. Yet again this is quite complicated.
"Yes," Sherlock says. "About a year ago."
Joan knows that's going to confuse Ted, so she starts to explain. "Mycroft was working for MI6," she says. "Sort of the British version of the CIA. We found that out when..." Joan hesitates, and Sherlock finishes the sentence.
"When Watson was kidnapped by the French crime syndicate Le Milieu," he says softly.
The fact it was only a year ago takes Ted aback. He knew about Andrew, but...
When Sherlock says that she was also kidnapped in connection with it, Ted instinctively reaches out to take Joan's hand. Both to comfort, but also just... to hang onto her? To protect her? As if he can protect her from something that happened in the past.
She squeezes his hand, grateful for the gesture but also aware of how difficult it must be for him to hear about things like this.
"This was about five years ago," she says to clarify. "Mycroft was in New York establishing a restaurant. Or at least that's what the cover was. He was actually spying on Le Milieu for MI6. He and I...we were figuring out what we wanted to do. What kind of relationship we wanted. I noticed members of Le Milieu in Mycroft's restaurant and wanted to warn him, but they got to me first. They knocked me out with chloroform and I woke up zip-tied to a chair."
Her voice is very quiet, and yet relatively calm. The experience had been traumatic on a number of levels, but Joan is good at keeping her emotions in check.
Of course it's hard to listen to - he doesn't want to imagine her in pain. But of course he still wants to know. Anything like that, it's part of what's made her who she is, and he wants to understand her, what she's been through. And it's a lot easier to help if you know what someone's struggled with.
He doesn't want her to hide things like this to protect him. Keeping him out of investigations is one thing, but this is personal.
So he listens quietly, keeping his own emotions in check as well, squeezing her hand a little to let her know it's okay to go on.
no subject
He picks up a strawberry and eats one. Then he picks up another and offers to feed it to Joan. "I didn't buy grapes, sorry," he quips. Like they should have people fanning them with palm leaves.
no subject
She glances over at Sherlock, who is probably as relaxed as Joan has ever seen him, and can't help but smile. She's so glad Ted is in her life, but she's also glad he's in Sherlock's life, too. She's experienced how knowing Ted has changed her life for the better, how his love and acceptance and optimism allowed her own care and kindness to emerge. And she can see it happening in Sherlock as well. It's so unusual for Sherlock to care about someone, to feel comfortable around someone, and to be content like this. Ted's acceptance and optimism has changed his life, too. She can tell there's also mutual love there of some sort, whether or not it's romantic from either side. She and Sherlock love each other deeply after all, and romanticism doesn't enter into it.
no subject
It's not romantic though, although it maybe could've had the potential to be. But Sherlock's been fairly strongly labelled 'off-limits' in his brain, for a variety of reasons, so he wouldn't even think to go there.
It's not like with Shaun, who's also very obviously off-limits, but he knows is only going to be in his life for a short time. And who seemed to like him back. That could just be a harmless flirt that didn't need to go anywhere. Ted wasn't even really thinking about it though - it's only after Sherlock had pointed it out that Ted had started to analyze what was going on there.
Ted's not thinking about that now, though. He's making an effort not to think about Rupert either. Only non-stressful good vibes and thoughts are allowed into his brain right now. Just lying there enjoying the sun and the quiet company.
no subject
She sighs happily and turns her head to smile at Ted.
no subject
And then a soccer ball bounces right through their picnic.
It doesn't manage to break anything (or anyone), but as Ted sits up in surprise, he sees the ball nestled in their picnic basket, and the small group of kids nearby looking like they're afraid they're gonna get in trouble (with one or two of them nervously giggling).
A kid yells an apology, and Ted gets to his feet, grabbing the ball. "Hey, that's alright, no harm done," Ted calls back cheerfully, picking up a crutch so he can walk a bit over to them (and away from the picnic). "Hey, you kids know how to do headers?"
no subject
The ball startles her and she pushes herself up to sitting by the time the kids come over. She notes that Sherlock has gotten up too, scowling at the kids. But Ted grabs the ball and walks over to them, and Joan can't help but smile, her heart warmed by his instinct to engage.
The kids are still giggling amongst themselves, but they nod at his question, uncertain what he means by it but clearly curious.
no subject
"You don't kick with your head, you only kick with your feet," one kid pipes up.
"Well, you got me there," Ted answers with a chuckle. "Still, you bounce it on your head like that, right? You guys wanna try?" They all nod enthusiastically. "Alright, line up," he says, and starts gently tossing the ball to them.
There's definitely a varied amount of success, but Ted is encouraging and enthusiastic no matter how well they do. He's mostly putting his weight on one leg, using his broken one mostly for balance, so he can't actually move around much, which means their somewhat poor aim means he can only sometimes actually catch the ball when they bounce it back to him.
This doesn't actually seem to be much of a problem, as the kids are really excited to run over and fetch the ball and hand it to him, so it just becomes another aspect of them having together.
no subject
Sherlock looks over at Watson, watching her watch Ted, and he can imagine what's going through her head. He's aware of Watson's desire to be a mother, and while it's not an impulse he comes about naturally, Sherlock has come to the conclusion that if Watson were to have a child, he would be a part of said child's life. He can easily imagine Watson and Ted having a child...and just as easily imagine being party to that joy, just as he's become party to the joy of their relationship. It's a strangely pleasant thought.
no subject
Then they leave, and Ted heads back over to Joan and Sherlock to sit down. Tired from standing around mostly on one leg, but also glowing with happiness after the interaction.
no subject
"That looked like fun," she says. "Have you done that sort of thing with kids before?"
no subject
no subject
He looks at her with a scowl. "I don't know how you've come to that conclusion, Watson."
"You're amazing with Archie," she points out. "And I've seen you relate to older kids in our investigations."
no subject
"Who's Archie?" he asks curiously.
no subject
"He's the son of my protegee Kitty," he tells him. "Watson and I are his godparents."
"He's adorable," Joan tells Ted. "You'll have to meet him and Kitty someday."
Sherlock considers reminding Watson of the fact that Kitty is cagey around strange men, but decides not to. Ted is not like other men, and Sherlock could see Kitty feeling comfortable with him, even if she might be overcome by the man's enthusiasm at first.
no subject
no subject
"Argentina," Sherlock supplies.
"Right," Joan says.
no subject
no subject
"Skills we both taught her," Joan adds softly.
Ted might get the impression the story is more complicated than they're necessarily letting on.
no subject
no subject
"I took Kitty on as my protegee during a period of time when Watson and I had separated."
"That was in the wake of what happened with Mycroft," Joan says. "Which...is another story. Suffice to say, I decided I wanted to live on my own. And Sherlock decided to abandon me entirely."
"It's not quite that simple, Watson," Sherlock says quietly, looking away. "You had lost your lover, but I lost my brother, and, it seemed at the time, my partner."
no subject
If Kitty was the 'rebound' protegee, it definitely sounds like a lot changed, if Joan is now godmother to her son. At least it didn't remain sore between them?
There is one point that stands out though. He'd suspected there was something sad there when Joan had mentioned him earlier, but... This sounds more sudden and painful than he'd initially thought.
"Mycroft died?" he asks quietly. Because it's hard to imagine other ways to lose a brother.
no subject
"Yes," Sherlock says. "About a year ago."
Joan knows that's going to confuse Ted, so she starts to explain. "Mycroft was working for MI6," she says. "Sort of the British version of the CIA. We found that out when..." Joan hesitates, and Sherlock finishes the sentence.
"When Watson was kidnapped by the French crime syndicate Le Milieu," he says softly.
no subject
When Sherlock says that she was also kidnapped in connection with it, Ted instinctively reaches out to take Joan's hand. Both to comfort, but also just... to hang onto her? To protect her? As if he can protect her from something that happened in the past.
no subject
"This was about five years ago," she says to clarify. "Mycroft was in New York establishing a restaurant. Or at least that's what the cover was. He was actually spying on Le Milieu for MI6. He and I...we were figuring out what we wanted to do. What kind of relationship we wanted. I noticed members of Le Milieu in Mycroft's restaurant and wanted to warn him, but they got to me first. They knocked me out with chloroform and I woke up zip-tied to a chair."
Her voice is very quiet, and yet relatively calm. The experience had been traumatic on a number of levels, but Joan is good at keeping her emotions in check.
no subject
He doesn't want her to hide things like this to protect him. Keeping him out of investigations is one thing, but this is personal.
So he listens quietly, keeping his own emotions in check as well, squeezing her hand a little to let her know it's okay to go on.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...