"Possibly," she agrees, smiling, curling her arm up under her head. "At the very least it would be really funny. Night of the Living Dead would have been a completely different movie if the zombies spent the whole time tripping over their feet. Add in a soundtrack of Yakkity Sax and you've got a screwball comedy."
"There's probably a movie like that," Ted answers. "Have you seen Shaun of the Dead? It didn't have Yakkity Sax, but it did have Don't Stop Me Now."
After missing each other desperately for a couple days, this is probably the most inconsequential conversation they could be having, but honestly, that's what makes it so wonderful. Joan's probably dealing with enough things of consequence, and he's happy to be her light and silliness.
"I have! Great movie. And possibly the best use of a Queen song on the silver screen."
It feels good to just be silly together. It's the vocal equivalent of cuddling together on the couch, just enjoying each other's company. It makes her feel happy, the happiest she's felt since she left his hospital room.
She also knows, though, that eventually the conversation would turn to more serious things. So she's enjoying the silly while she can.
"Hmmm," Ted answers, considering that claim. "Yeah, no, probably. Though they do a cover of 'The Show Must Go On' in Moulin Rouge, and it's very appropriate, but that's more the dramatic route."
"I miss you too," she replies, also feeling that soft glow of happiness even with the sadness of being apart. "I'm glad things are going well."
She knows he has an amazing support team that will help take care of him and see him through this. Of course, aside from Beard, they all think they broke up. She can't imagine Rebecca and Keeley are happy with her right now.
"Mmm... Michelle and Henry are going home on Sunday. So I've just been trying to spend as much time with him as possible," he shares quietly.
But of course he can't really do much, and his body being busy recovering means he's not exactly bursting with as much energy as he usually is. And they can't stay in London forever, Michelle has work and Henry has school. A full week of completely unplanned visit is already a lot.
"Yeah..." he answers, the sadness a bit more evident in his voice. There's not that much more to say about it than that, really.
"We're seeing the game tomorrow, though. Gonna be weird sitting up in the box," he says.
Gonna be weird for a lot of reasons. And there were definitely some concerns about whether he'd be up for it, and whether he'd end up hurting himself by getting excited (which, admittedly, is not a non-zero chance), but he absolutely insisted. He needs to be there for them, even if he can't be on the pitch.
"We told them I was attacked," he answers seriously. "And I guess technically that it was a kidnapping, but sort of played down the severity of it. Like the how and the how long. And then the 'why' got out through the media, people putting two and two together. Turner had apparently been pretty vocal about his feelings."
He doesn't want them to know how bad it got for several reasons. For one thing, because it's horrifying, and they don't need to know. For another, he doesn't want them to pussyfoot around him.
And then... Well, it feels... private? And he thinks it messed with him more than he's fully aware of still, and he doesn't really want anyone else to know the details of all that.
Joan has read the articles online. Some of them are serious and sensitive. Others are outrageously outlandish without technically being untrue. She's glad that the emphasis is on the attack angle instead of the kidnapping, exactly because the kidnapping aspects were the most horrible and traumatic, and it's vastly preferable that Ted have the time and space to work through that without it being garishly splashed across the tabloids.
She only wishes she could be there with him as he works through it. It makes it all the more frustrating that the case seems to be going nowhere.
"Yeah, Chapman wasn't exactly discreet." There were any number of people who have gone on record as having heard the man threaten to do violent things to Ted. The problem is that isn't exactly unusual. Threatening to beat up someone over football is practically a national pastime.
She notes that Ted uses the man's first name. It's so Ted, still wanting to be personable even with someone who did horrible things to him.
Ted hums in agreement. Nor was he subtle, during the little time Ted spent with him.
"What about you? How's everything going?" he asks. It's a general question, but he knows Joan gets focused on her work, so he assumes the answer is mostly going to be about the case.
She sighs a little. The question was coming, of course, and she's not entirely sure how to respond. She doesn't want him to worry about her, but at the same time, they're going through this together. She would hope that Ted can be open and honest with her. It seems right to reciprocate.
"I miss you," she repeats. It's the one constant, every moment of every hour. "I'm doing okay. I haven't left the Brownstone since getting here. I've been doing my work online, mostly. When I need files from the NYPD or the local FBI I have them delivered. Gregson and Marcus...that's Captain Gregson and Detective Marcus Bell, we work closely with them when we're in New York. They're like family. They would love to meet you."
Now she's thinking of Ted coming to New York, and it's a wistful thought of the places she'd take him, the people she'd introduce him to. But she can't think like that right now, lest it take over some of the mental bandwidth she needs to solve the case.
"Anyway...they were there for me when Andrew died, so they know this is hard for me. They've been bringing me food, making sure I'm eating. Other than that they've been giving me space."
Edited (Ugh! Missed a close quotes.) 2021-07-09 18:10 (UTC)
"I'd love to meet them," Ted answers with a soft smile. Anyone who's like family to Joan must be pretty awesome. He's sure he'll make it to New York eventually.
"That's good." He knows space isn't always the best medicine, if they really had broken up, but in this case it's probably pretty useful. But the concern is nice anyway, cause, yeah, it is hard.
"Do you want to talk about the case...?" he offers. Because he knows she doesn't exactly have a lot of other people she can talk to about it. And it may help her not be stuck in her own head.
She sighs again, putting a hand over her eyes for a moment.
"It's tricky," she says, taking her hand away and letting it rest on the bed. "Which makes sense, Moriarty is extremely good at what she does. But usually Sherlock and I are able to identify certain patterns in her activity. There's some of that there, but not enough. I've been staring at the wall for a while, trying to make sense of it all. Oh!" She brightens. "I have a conspiracy board! Red string and everything."
Ted listens sympathetically. And then when she announces her conspiracy board, he laughs. "That's my girl!" he answers excitedly. "Gotta have the red string."
Ted does catch that. And he doesn't think it's just because she's gotten used to London. She's starting to consider him home. And that makes him surprisingly emotional. He lets it sit there for a moment before he moves on.
"So if you can't find those patterns, what makes you so sure it's this Moriarty lady?"
In that moment of silence Joan realizes what she said, and realizes the same thing Ted does. He's home for her. She's most comfortable with him, happiest with him, belongs with him. They belong together.
It's a bittersweet realization. She's reminded of how much they love each other, but also reminded of how hard it is to be apart. She puts a hand to her heart, feeling those emotions keenly.
The question is a good one. "It would be an incredible coincidence if it wasn't, considering it's her known M.O. and we were investigating her at the time. Coincidences happen, but considering how dangerous she can be, I think it's wise to assume it was her until we can prove it wasn't. And the absence of evidence isn't the evidence of absence."
"Extremely competent. And yes, usually. Although not necessarily right away. She's very good at the long game." She can tell he wants to know what she's like, so she decides to give him detail. "When I first met Sherlock, he was in really bad shape. He had hit rock bottom with his heroin addiction, and even when he was out of rehab and working with me, he was still...broken. It took a while for him to open up to me enough to tell me that what sent him into that destructive spiral was the murder of a woman he loved named Irene."
Tes listens, and his heart aches for Sherlock. He knew he'd have problems with addiction, but not how bad, nor the path that led him there. That must've been awful. He can imagine Sherlock feels bad for Joan, her almost ending up in the same situation.
"Okay... Moriarty's doing, I'm guessing?" he asks softly.
The answer to that is yes, but it's not that simple, so she doesn't answer directly. "Sherlock didn't know that at the time. He was investigating a hitman that went by M. M had a very distinct calling card. Most of the bodies of M's victims never turned up. What was left behind at the crime scenes was blood. All of the victim's blood, in a pool on the floor."
She pauses for a moment, letting that sink in.
"One day," she continues, "Sherlock went to visit Irene. And found a pool of her blood."
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After missing each other desperately for a couple days, this is probably the most inconsequential conversation they could be having, but honestly, that's what makes it so wonderful. Joan's probably dealing with enough things of consequence, and he's happy to be her light and silliness.
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It feels good to just be silly together. It's the vocal equivalent of cuddling together on the couch, just enjoying each other's company. It makes her feel happy, the happiest she's felt since she left his hospital room.
She also knows, though, that eventually the conversation would turn to more serious things. So she's enjoying the silly while she can.
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There's a pause, a moment of silence, Joan just enjoying the feeling of happiness at hearing his voice.
"How are you?" she asks finally, softly, moving away from the silliness.
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"I miss you," he answers softly. It's the most pressing thing on his mind currently. "But I'm doing okay. I mean, all things considered, you know."
Things are obviously not exactly ideal. But he's picking himself up, and he's got people to help him do so.
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She knows he has an amazing support team that will help take care of him and see him through this. Of course, aside from Beard, they all think they broke up. She can't imagine Rebecca and Keeley are happy with her right now.
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But of course he can't really do much, and his body being busy recovering means he's not exactly bursting with as much energy as he usually is. And they can't stay in London forever, Michelle has work and Henry has school. A full week of completely unplanned visit is already a lot.
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"I'm glad you got to spend so much time with him. It's got to be hard that he's leaving, though."
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"We're seeing the game tomorrow, though. Gonna be weird sitting up in the box," he says.
Gonna be weird for a lot of reasons. And there were definitely some concerns about whether he'd be up for it, and whether he'd end up hurting himself by getting excited (which, admittedly, is not a non-zero chance), but he absolutely insisted. He needs to be there for them, even if he can't be on the pitch.
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She could see Ted wanting to be honest. She could also see him wanting to shield his team from the violent truth.
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He doesn't want them to know how bad it got for several reasons. For one thing, because it's horrifying, and they don't need to know. For another, he doesn't want them to pussyfoot around him.
And then... Well, it feels... private? And he thinks it messed with him more than he's fully aware of still, and he doesn't really want anyone else to know the details of all that.
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She only wishes she could be there with him as he works through it. It makes it all the more frustrating that the case seems to be going nowhere.
"Yeah, Chapman wasn't exactly discreet." There were any number of people who have gone on record as having heard the man threaten to do violent things to Ted. The problem is that isn't exactly unusual. Threatening to beat up someone over football is practically a national pastime.
She notes that Ted uses the man's first name. It's so Ted, still wanting to be personable even with someone who did horrible things to him.
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"What about you? How's everything going?" he asks. It's a general question, but he knows Joan gets focused on her work, so he assumes the answer is mostly going to be about the case.
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"I miss you," she repeats. It's the one constant, every moment of every hour. "I'm doing okay. I haven't left the Brownstone since getting here. I've been doing my work online, mostly. When I need files from the NYPD or the local FBI I have them delivered. Gregson and Marcus...that's Captain Gregson and Detective Marcus Bell, we work closely with them when we're in New York. They're like family. They would love to meet you."
Now she's thinking of Ted coming to New York, and it's a wistful thought of the places she'd take him, the people she'd introduce him to. But she can't think like that right now, lest it take over some of the mental bandwidth she needs to solve the case.
"Anyway...they were there for me when Andrew died, so they know this is hard for me. They've been bringing me food, making sure I'm eating. Other than that they've been giving me space."
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"That's good." He knows space isn't always the best medicine, if they really had broken up, but in this case it's probably pretty useful. But the concern is nice anyway, cause, yeah, it is hard.
"Do you want to talk about the case...?" he offers. Because he knows she doesn't exactly have a lot of other people she can talk to about it. And it may help her not be stuck in her own head.
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"It's tricky," she says, taking her hand away and letting it rest on the bed. "Which makes sense, Moriarty is extremely good at what she does. But usually Sherlock and I are able to identify certain patterns in her activity. There's some of that there, but not enough. I've been staring at the wall for a while, trying to make sense of it all. Oh!" She brightens. "I have a conspiracy board! Red string and everything."
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You gotta take joy in the simple pleasures.
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"I'd send you a picture, but that's probably not the best of ideas right now. I'll take one, though, and show it to you when I get back home."
The word "home" comes out instead of "to London."
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"So if you can't find those patterns, what makes you so sure it's this Moriarty lady?"
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It's a bittersweet realization. She's reminded of how much they love each other, but also reminded of how hard it is to be apart. She puts a hand to her heart, feeling those emotions keenly.
The question is a good one. "It would be an incredible coincidence if it wasn't, considering it's her known M.O. and we were investigating her at the time. Coincidences happen, but considering how dangerous she can be, I think it's wise to assume it was her until we can prove it wasn't. And the absence of evidence isn't the evidence of absence."
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"So, Moriarty. Competent lady? Usually gets what she wants?" he asks, trying to get a sense for her.
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"Okay... Moriarty's doing, I'm guessing?" he asks softly.
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She pauses for a moment, letting that sink in.
"One day," she continues, "Sherlock went to visit Irene. And found a pool of her blood."
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