Ted buries his face in Joan's hair, looking up a little when her phone dings. He doesn't lean over to read, though. In case it's Sherlock or something.
Ted can almost guess what it was just based on the way she kisses him. It makes his heart ache.
"Okay..." he whispers back, but honestly it's anything but okay. It he had any idea how long she would be gone, it might've been easier, but soon she'll be on the other side of the world, and he has no idea when he'll see her again.
Joan knows that it's not okay at all. It hurts to be going away, not knowing when she'll be back. It's miles better than it would have been had she left without seeing him again and intending to never come back, but it's still so hard.
"I love you," she whispers, and kisses him again, that trace of desperation growing.
"I love you too," he answers, giving her a tight squeeze. "Hey," he says, pulling back and putting a hand on her cheek to look her in the eyes. "We're gonna be okay. And once we can see each other again, it'll be even better, cause then we can be together and not have to worry."
He gives her a soft kiss, and then an encouraging smile. He has complete faith this is going to work out for the best, and then they can be together as much as they want.
Leave it to Ted Lasso to see the bright side of everything. God she loves him.
She kisses him back, then answers the smile, actually feeling a little bit of that faith herself.
"We're going to be okay," she affirms.
One more soft kiss, and then Joan climbs out of bed and starts putting herself back together, pulling up her pants and straightening her shirt, then putting on her shoes.
Ted sits up, doing the same, and taking off his shirt. It's only been two days since he got rescued, so the bruises are still very much there all over his sides, but at least now they show the early stages of fading. An indicator that he is in fact getting better.
"Hand me the bag?" he requests quietly, nodding at the bag with his changes of clothes.
It was probably best to keep the bruises hidden while they were holding and pleasuring each other, but Joan is glad she can see them now. It's still ugly, but she can recognize that the colors have changed and the edges are fading, sure signs that he's healing. It makes her feel better, reinforcing the belief that everything will be okay.
She brings the bag over, setting it on the bed next to him.
Ted hands her the used shirt with a smile - though the closer they get to her leaving, the more emotional his face is going to get. He pulls out a different shirt, pulling it on but leaving it open. Instead he reaches over and tugs at her shirt a bit, adjusting it, then reaching up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. He just looks at her for a moment, smiling sadly and committing her face to memory.
She looks into his eyes and sees the sadness there as well as in his smile, and her heart aches for him. She reaches out to run her fingers gently, lovingly, through his hair. Then she takes a slow step closer, her eyes on his, and leans forward to press her lips ever so gently to his. As she kisses him, sweet and slow, she buttons his shirt, button by button.
Ted rests his hands on her waist as he kisses her back. These are actually the kind of moments that make him the happiest. When they're just gently existing together, being domestic, and comfortable and familiar enough with each other to help each other with stuff like their clothes. Or brushing their teeth together. Or doing the dishes.
Because more than anything else, it helps him imagine spending the rest of his life with this amazing woman. All the little moments that just happen, unremarkable but intimate, when you spend your life with someone.
Joan loves these moments, too, this simple tenderness, being with him, sharing the most basic things, sharing life. The thought of spending the rest of her life with him has occurred to her, although shadowed by her uncertainty that that is even possible for her due to her occupation. She wants to, though. She shares so much of her life with Sherlock, but there's a large part of her, of her heart, that Sherlock can't share. She had resigned herself to the idea that sometimes people are just unfulfilled in some ways, and that's okay. But then she met Ted, and fell for him so fast, so hard. He has her heart. It had hurt so badly to think that she had to leave him to protect him. Now that they've decided to stay together, to face this together, being with him for the rest of her life seems a little more possible.
Once she's done buttoning his shirt she pulls back, taking his hands in hers.
Ted gives her hands a gentle squeeze, and nods with confidence. This isn't just his optimism - he knows that through sheer determination, they will find a way to be okay. And not just be okay, but to prosper.
"We're going to be great," he answers with a smile, also speaking softly, but with such conviction. Wanting to make sure he imparts as much faith as he can in here before she leaves.
"I love you, Joan," he answers, and he feels it. Not just returning the words, but really leaning into the feeling of how much he adores and treasures her.
This time when Joan lets his hands go, he doesn't pull her back for just one more kiss. He doesn't want to make it harder for her. He just picks up the shirt and hands it her. Steadying himself as well.
Ted nods. "I'll find somewhere to hide it in the apartment," he answers. He pauses, considering. "Can we text on it, or just calls?" He guesses texts are easier to trace, and if they are both at home and able to use the phones, it would be nicer to just talk anyway.
"We can text," she says. "Although we might want to limit it to letting each other know when the best time is to call."
She looks at him, her heart at once aching and so full of love. She wants to kiss him, one more time. She wants to say she loves him, one more time. But the truth of the matter is that there is no such thing as one more time. No kiss or declaration of love that is enough. That will ever be enough.
"I'll see you soon," she says instead, knowing that Ted knows how deeply she loves him.
"Travel safe," he says softly. It feels like such a mundane thing to say in this situation, but in a way that's kind of nice. And it's just another way of telling someone you care about them - be safe and take care of yourself.
The moment she turns away, Ted crumples just a little bit, almost imperceptibly, so sad to see her go. He watches her and keeps staring at the door long after she's gone.
It doesn't help that this feels so much like his divorce in certain ways. Him giving her permission to leave, even as it pains them both, because they know it's for the best. Him watching her go, off to board a plane to go halfway across the world. His eyes glassy with unshed tears.
But it's not like that. Because Joan still loves him. Joan wants to come back to him. She's only doing this so they can be together.
He sits back on the bed, lying down, taking a deep breath and just... stares up at the ceiling. His heart aching.
Joan's heart aches too, from the moment she turns away to leave. It aches as Beard accompanies her back to 221B to get her bags and to retrieve two burner phones from the box of them tucked away in a closet. She programs the numbers of the other phone into both of them, labeling them as Leibniz and Jessica, smiling sadly as she does so. When she gets back to the cab she slips Beard the phone to give to Ted. She leans against him again as they ride to the airport, and he takes the cab back to London, leaving her all alone. She aches as she waits for the plane, aches as she crosses the Atlantic, aches as she returns to the Brownstone, the home silent and dark.
The first thing she does is use her phone to text Ted's phone. When he turns it on it will pop up as being from Jessica.
Safe. Text when you get this and I'll call.
Then she throws herself into the work. She stays at home, not wanting to miss his text once he's out of the hospital, so she gets files online and anything physical delivered to the house. Gregson and Bell ask Sherlock what happened, and Sherlock tells them the partial truth that is their cover story. They're sympathetic, having seen what she went through when Andrew died. They bring her food and then give her space, which is exactly what she needs, if not for the reasons they think.
Ted is on her mind constantly, more so as time passes and she wonders when she'll hear from him. She knows she has to be patient, but it's so hard.
It's difficult, but it's not as hard as it could be. Ted has a constant stream of visitors, and it's easy enough to let himself be distracted by them. Even if Joan pops into his mind pretty often, and he'll get this distant look for a moment.
Beard is a huge help, as usual, helping spread the information that Ted and Joan has broken up, so that Ted doesn't have to talk about it much. He doesn't have to fake being sad, or fake missing Joan. But no one's encouragement actually help, since they're all addressing the fake problem rather than the real one. He feels a little bit bad pretending, especially to Rebecca and Keeley, but it can't really be helped. He doesn't want to risk anything.
He also finds himself thinking about Turner Chapman more than he expected. And not in a post-traumatic way, where he's feeling upset or has nightmares - though there is some of that too. He just wonders about the man. How he came to be where he is now.
Ted knows he probably won't be able to fully close that chapter until he's completely healed and the investigation and then the trial is over, and Turner is sentenced. He knows it'll be a sore spot for a while, something he'll have to grapple with from time to time. He just wishes he understood more.
But all he can really think about for the time being, is wanting to go home and talk to Joan. He doesn't worry too much about her, considering no news is probably good news. If something had happened to her, there'd be less point in keeping it all a secret (or maybe they'd risk telling him even if there still was), and Sherlock would presumably tell him.
Two day pass, painstakingly slow, and he finally goes home on Friday evening. Beard and a nurse/physical therapist named Shaun help him get set up, making sure he has everything. Shaun will come by and check on Ted daily and help him with his recovery. Rebecca's paying for it, of course. It feels only a little bit unnecessary, but Ted's used to the people around him having all kinds of medical care just to stay in shape, so it doesn't bother him too much.
And then at last he's alone, and Ted can dig out the phone from its hiding spot and check it. He slumps with relief at the text from 'Jessica'.
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theodorelasso) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trashchildren2021-06-24 07:33 pm
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When their lips part she presses her forehead to his, eyes closed.
"I need to go," she whispers.
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"Okay..." he whispers back, but honestly it's anything but okay. It he had any idea how long she would be gone, it might've been easier, but soon she'll be on the other side of the world, and he has no idea when he'll see her again.
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"I love you," she whispers, and kisses him again, that trace of desperation growing.
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He gives her a soft kiss, and then an encouraging smile. He has complete faith this is going to work out for the best, and then they can be together as much as they want.
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She kisses him back, then answers the smile, actually feeling a little bit of that faith herself.
"We're going to be okay," she affirms.
One more soft kiss, and then Joan climbs out of bed and starts putting herself back together, pulling up her pants and straightening her shirt, then putting on her shoes.
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"Hand me the bag?" he requests quietly, nodding at the bag with his changes of clothes.
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She brings the bag over, setting it on the bed next to him.
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Because more than anything else, it helps him imagine spending the rest of his life with this amazing woman. All the little moments that just happen, unremarkable but intimate, when you spend your life with someone.
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Once she's done buttoning his shirt she pulls back, taking his hands in hers.
"We're going to be okay," she says softly.
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"We're going to be great," he answers with a smile, also speaking softly, but with such conviction. Wanting to make sure he imparts as much faith as he can in here before she leaves.
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"I love you, Ted," she says softly, one last time.
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She squeezes his hands, then lets them go, and takes a steadying breath.
"Can you hand me the shirt?"
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"When Beard gives you the phone," she says when she's done, "don't turn it on until you're home alone, okay?"
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She looks at him, her heart at once aching and so full of love. She wants to kiss him, one more time. She wants to say she loves him, one more time. But the truth of the matter is that there is no such thing as one more time. No kiss or declaration of love that is enough. That will ever be enough.
"I'll see you soon," she says instead, knowing that Ted knows how deeply she loves him.
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"Travel safe," he says softly. It feels like such a mundane thing to say in this situation, but in a way that's kind of nice. And it's just another way of telling someone you care about them - be safe and take care of yourself.
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She takes a step backwards toward the door, eyes on his. She takes a breath. Then she looks away and turns, and heads to the door.
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It doesn't help that this feels so much like his divorce in certain ways. Him giving her permission to leave, even as it pains them both, because they know it's for the best. Him watching her go, off to board a plane to go halfway across the world. His eyes glassy with unshed tears.
But it's not like that. Because Joan still loves him. Joan wants to come back to him. She's only doing this so they can be together.
He sits back on the bed, lying down, taking a deep breath and just... stares up at the ceiling. His heart aching.
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The first thing she does is use her phone to text Ted's phone. When he turns it on it will pop up as being from Jessica.
Safe. Text when you get this and I'll call.
Then she throws herself into the work. She stays at home, not wanting to miss his text once he's out of the hospital, so she gets files online and anything physical delivered to the house. Gregson and Bell ask Sherlock what happened, and Sherlock tells them the partial truth that is their cover story. They're sympathetic, having seen what she went through when Andrew died. They bring her food and then give her space, which is exactly what she needs, if not for the reasons they think.
Ted is on her mind constantly, more so as time passes and she wonders when she'll hear from him. She knows she has to be patient, but it's so hard.
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Beard is a huge help, as usual, helping spread the information that Ted and Joan has broken up, so that Ted doesn't have to talk about it much. He doesn't have to fake being sad, or fake missing Joan. But no one's encouragement actually help, since they're all addressing the fake problem rather than the real one. He feels a little bit bad pretending, especially to Rebecca and Keeley, but it can't really be helped. He doesn't want to risk anything.
He also finds himself thinking about Turner Chapman more than he expected. And not in a post-traumatic way, where he's feeling upset or has nightmares - though there is some of that too. He just wonders about the man. How he came to be where he is now.
Ted knows he probably won't be able to fully close that chapter until he's completely healed and the investigation and then the trial is over, and Turner is sentenced. He knows it'll be a sore spot for a while, something he'll have to grapple with from time to time. He just wishes he understood more.
But all he can really think about for the time being, is wanting to go home and talk to Joan. He doesn't worry too much about her, considering no news is probably good news. If something had happened to her, there'd be less point in keeping it all a secret (or maybe they'd risk telling him even if there still was), and Sherlock would presumably tell him.
Two day pass, painstakingly slow, and he finally goes home on Friday evening. Beard and a nurse/physical therapist named Shaun help him get set up, making sure he has everything. Shaun will come by and check on Ted daily and help him with his recovery. Rebecca's paying for it, of course. It feels only a little bit unnecessary, but Ted's used to the people around him having all kinds of medical care just to stay in shape, so it doesn't bother him too much.
And then at last he's alone, and Ted can dig out the phone from its hiding spot and check it. He slumps with relief at the text from 'Jessica'.
Home.
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