"I think he might, yeah," Ted agrees, smiling. His impression of Sherlock is that the man has no qualms about showing his dislike for someone, or at least remain on frosty terms. But Sherlock had taken the effort to actually comfort him. In a rather personal way, too. "I like him, too."
"Wow," she says with a small laugh. "I can't even begin to express how extremely rare that is. Like...I honestly cannot think of a single instance where Sherlock and anybody actually liked each other so quickly. It usually takes a lot of time, if it happens at all." She laughs again. "You are amazing."
Ted chuckles warmly at that. "To be fair, I like most people," he answers, feeling a bit better now they're talking about nicer things. "And he's probably making an extra effort for your sake. Oh, he said to give you his best, by the way. I think he misses you a lot."
That warmth in his voice is so nice to hear again.
Ted is almost certainly right that Sherlock is making an effort to like Ted for her sake, and she finds that interesting. She's had plenty of paramours that Sherlock has had absolutely no interest in even attempting to like. That said, Joan didn't love those men. They shared her bed and scratched an itch. But she loves Ted. Dearly. Deeply. Sherlock must see that, and accept that. Time was, he didn't believe in such a thing as love. How far he's come.
When he mentions that Sherlock misses her, Joan feels her heart ache a little. She hasn't been talking to Ted about a lot of the difficulties she's had, being so far away and so cut off from everyone. She misses Ted most of all, but she also misses Sherlock a lot. It's so hard to be trying to pursue this case when they're so far apart. Video calls can only do so much. And Sherlock is her friend, her partner. She loves him and she feels out of place without him.
But Joan doesn't want Ted to feel bad about the work she's doing, or about the agreement they made to be apart to keep him safe. He's been through so much trauma.
"It's been a long time since we've worked a case apart," she says quietly.
It's difficult for her to open up in this instance. She's been honest and vulnerable with him before, but that was either when they were both warm and safe, or when the pain of wanting to protect Ted by leaving him couldn't help but spill over. She's admitted that she misses him, even that the frustration of the stagnant case is hard to handle. But it's gotten worse with every day, missing him, missing Sherlock, and the growing fear that this case will never be solved, and they must choose to either take the risk or never see each other again.
It's a moment before she answers.
"It hasn't been easy," she says. The strain in her voice hints that there's so much left unsaid behind those words.
"You know you can talk to me, right?" he says softly. "Even if I'm going through stuff too, I want you to be able to lean on me as well. So we can both help each other."
Maybe sometimes that will look like one of them helping the other through tough times. But if they're both having a hard time, then they need to be able to both share. And if Ted's worry about Joan weighs on him, then he can share that with Beard. Joan doesn't really have anyone to lean on for her worry about Ted right now.
There's a long silence as Joan wavers between wanting to remain a rock for him, and wanting, so much, to lean on him. To let him support her. To support each other.
Ah. Now he gets what's been weighing on her. Ted, the eternal optimist, hadn't even really considered that possibility. He has to take a moment to consider it.
"Then I guess eventually we reach the point where staying apart hurts more than the risk of being together," he answers. Because he can't imagine the risk outweighing the hurt of saying goodbye to Joan forever.
Even now, today, after having been attacked and driven to a panic attack, again. He just loves Joan so much.
She closes her eyes and takes a breath to steady herself. She still has to deal with the thought popping up periodically that if she really loved Ted she would do the "right thing" and leave him. A part of her believes that she should be alone, after all the times people have been hurt or died because of her.
She's fighting that voice, though, armed with the knowledge that Ted loves her, that Ted chooses her, even in the face of potential danger, or even actual danger.
"I'm sorry.." Ted answers sadly. He wishes there was more he could do. He bites at his lip. He doesn't know how fast Joan usually solves these things. It's been a rough week, to say the least.
"How about we give it a week? Give you guys some time to follow up on Perry. If there's no progress, then just... Come back. And we can try to solve it together instead," he suggests.
He knows part of the reason it hurts so much right now is because it feels so indefinite, so eternal. If there's a light at the end of the tunnel, then it's easier to bear in the meantime.
Joan needs to take another breath before lifting her head and quickly wiping the tears from her eyes. The idea of having an end in sight and knowing that they will be together again no matter what really does make her feel more hopeful.
"I think I can last a week," she says, her tone lighter but the hint of tears still in her voice.
"Alright," Ted answers softly, his heart aching, wishing he could hug her. "I love you. We're gonna figure it out one way or another," he reassures her.
"And until then, why don't you spend some time with Marcus and Gregson, or some other friends? Take a break. You need time to recharge too," he suggests. He really doesn't want her to neglect herself, since it seems like Sherlock was definitely right about her tendency to do so. "You know, like in athletics, you gotta have rest days to let your body heal and build itself up. Same thing's true for your heart and your brain."
"I love you too." Her voice is more steady now. She even smiles as he suggests she spend time with friends. "Yes Coach," she says, teasing him fondly.
He's right, of course. She's been keeping herself shut away, rationalizing it as the same thing she did when Andrew died, as something she needs to do to keep up the facade and concentrate on the work. But staying so isolated isn't actually helping anything.
She's also realizing that part of that self-isolation is penance. Penance for the hurt Ted is going through, feeling responsible even though they don't yet know that the attack had anything to do with her. She's paid penance for so many things in her life, it's subconscious at this point.
"There you go," Ted answers, smiling when she teases him. He actually feels a bit better too, for having made sure she's taking care of herself. And just for talking to her in general, of course.
"What are they like, by the way? You haven't really spoken about them," he points out, curious to hear about the people she and Sherlock work with usually.
She smiles as he asks her about Gregson and Marcus. She lies down with a sigh, relaxing.
"Captain Gregson is great. He's always been good to me and Sherlock. It's not always easy to be a consultant with a police department. A lot of cops are resentful of us. And I get it. We're often called in on cases that the detectives in the department couldn't handle. We're also technically civilians, so there are a lot of restrictions that don't apply to us. Even when he's gotten crap for using us, though, he's been in our corner. Honestly, I think Sherlock sees him as a father figure. Which is good, because Sherlock's father is honestly pretty horrible."
"The one with way too much money, right?" Ted asks. "Well, I definitely get what it's like when the people you're trying to help are resentful," he says with a soft chuckle.
She chuckles. "Yes you do. And yeah, way too much," she confirms with a smile. Her voice turns somber. "It's more than that, though. He has a lot of power. Like, a lot. The sort of power where people who cross him wind up dying in freak accidents."
"Yeesh," Ted answers. Honestly, he knows there are plenty of people with that kind of power - but hopefully there are way fewer who exercize that power. "Suddenly glad Sherlock likes me," he says, then quickly adds, "not that he would ever do anything like that."
That actually makes Ted laugh. Despite having been actually threatened with murder just earlier today. It's too ludicrous to take even remotely seriously. "Yeah, I bet he would. If you want it done well, do it yourself."
"He takes pride in his work," she says with a smile. She's glad he's okay with joking like this. She and Sherlock can have dark senses of humor sometimes. Occupational hazard.
Ted has a selective dark humor. He wouldn't want to joke about most other people, nor things that are a bit too close to reality for comfort. But if it's far enough remove from reality, then it's safe.
They go on to discuss other random things for a while, and Ted feels a lot lighter after having the conversation. After that, Shaun arrives, and Ted has to hang up.
He doesn't call Joan in the evening, but he does text her a goodnight message. He just doesn't want to become entirely dependent on her comfort and distraction to be able to sleep. He does wake up from a nightmare at some point, but manages to calm himself back down and eventually fall back asleep. It's progress, if only a little.
Joan likes being on the phone with him as he falls asleep, but she totally understands his desire to train himself to fall asleep without it. Her return text lets him know that she's there if he needs her. She thinks about going back to her work, but decides instead to text Marcus and ask if he's free to get a drink with her. They meet in a bar frequented by cops and share a couple beers. Joan talks a little about Ted, how amazing he is and how much she misses him. Marcus is sympathetic, having lost relationships himself due to the job. They talk about work, about recent cases, about Sherlock. He walks her home.
The next morning Joan wakes up to a text from Sherlock.
Perry Perkins. Not an alias.
Well that answers her first question.
She texts Ted.
We have a name.
She throws herself into research, looking for mentions of the man in anything she can get her hands on, and turning to Everyone for help, promising them tickets to the next Richmond game in exchange.
It's only an hour before Everyone gets back to her with Perry's bank records, which showed a recent deposit of 25 thousand pounds from a Swiss bank account. The fact that he was paid so much only bolsters the Moriarty theory.
Joan contacts Sherlock, and the two of them do everything in their power to figure out who made that transfer. They fail.
By the evening Joan is at her wit's end. She hasn't talked to Ted since that text, too busy and too focused. When Sherlock tells her that their last resource fell through, Joan makes a decision.
The coffee shop is small and cozy, the sort of place that sells art and indie music CDs. Someone might notice that all of the employees are women.
"May I help you?" the barista, a woman with blue hair and a nose ring, says as Joan steps up to the counter.
"You know who I am," Joan says, a statement and not a question.
The barista stares at her impassively. Her non-answer is answer enough.
"I have a message for your boss," Joan says. "Tell her that if she ever hurts Ted Lasso again, I will not rest until I have burned her entire empire to the ground."
"One soy milk latte coming up," the woman says, ringing it up.
Joan pays for the same drink that killed Andrew and almost killed her, then leaves. She goes home and spends hours staring at the crazy wall, thinking about the Napoleon of Crime. She falls asleep on the couch.
She wakes to the ring of the doorbell. When she goes to the door she sees that an envelope has been slipped under the door. She looks outside. Whoever left the envelope is gone.
Joan picks up the envelope and opens it. It's a card. On the front is a picture of a wistful-looking greyhound.
She opens the card. "Thinking of you" is printed on the inside, then below that is handwriting Joan recognizes as Moriarty's.
My dearest Watson,
I am both flattered and wounded by your message. Flattered that you would think of me, wounded that you would think I would hurt you. I suppose I must make myself clear. I have no intention to remove you from the board. You amuse me. You are also important to Sherlock. Make no mistake, my dear; I could have had your lover taken and tortured, but it would not be sporting.
You may be assured, therefore, that you and yours are protected. Pursuant of this, and in a gesture of goodwill, I have handled your problem. I hope you will understand I cannot go to the source. Please trust, however, that no one will target your dear gaffer again.
Give my regards to Sherlock.
Ever yours, Jamie Moriarty
"Shit," Joan swears, and immediately calls Sherlock. She knows exactly what Moriarty means.
In London, Ted will find a similar envelope slipped under his door. When he opens it he finds a note and a photograph.
Ted spends the next day trying to focus on just... living a normal life. Start the road towards getting back to work, and not worry about Turner or Moriarty or any of it. He's been all the help he can be.
He goes to work - not to actually work, but to say hi to Rebecca and the team, and to watch them practice. He hasn't made her biscuits, but he promises that he will, definitely by the time he returns to work. Everyone's just a little bit weird around him, not necessarily in a bad way, but definitely weird. But also very supportive. He realizes how much he's missed them in the week he's been gone.
He doesn't see Joan's text until he gets back home later in the day. He tells her to text him if she needs anything. When she doesn't, he assumes she's busy working. So him and Beard go out to the pub. Everyone is very supportive there too. Even Baz.
It's a good day. As good as can be at least, given the circumstances. He gives Joan a goodnight text, and tries not to worry too much when he doesn't hear back. After a moderate amount of drinking at the pub, he passes out easy.
The next day he takes it a bit easier. He knows he shouldn't be running around while he's still healing. He just spends his time reading, which is an effective way of occupying his brain.
It's early afternoon on Wednesday when the doorbell rings. Ted isn't expecting anyone, and it takes him a little while to actually get to the door in his current state. No one is there when he gets there, but there is an envelope.
His first reaction to the contents is confusion. Why on earth did someone deliver him a photo of Rupert? And then he reads the note, and his heart speeds up.
He practically runs up the stairs, as much as he's capable of running. And he immediately calls Joan. Heck, if she doesn't answer on the special phone, he has every intention of calling on the regular phone, secrecy be damned. Secrecy is probably out the window now anyway.
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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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Ted is almost certainly right that Sherlock is making an effort to like Ted for her sake, and she finds that interesting. She's had plenty of paramours that Sherlock has had absolutely no interest in even attempting to like. That said, Joan didn't love those men. They shared her bed and scratched an itch. But she loves Ted. Dearly. Deeply. Sherlock must see that, and accept that. Time was, he didn't believe in such a thing as love. How far he's come.
When he mentions that Sherlock misses her, Joan feels her heart ache a little. She hasn't been talking to Ted about a lot of the difficulties she's had, being so far away and so cut off from everyone. She misses Ted most of all, but she also misses Sherlock a lot. It's so hard to be trying to pursue this case when they're so far apart. Video calls can only do so much. And Sherlock is her friend, her partner. She loves him and she feels out of place without him.
But Joan doesn't want Ted to feel bad about the work she's doing, or about the agreement they made to be apart to keep him safe. He's been through so much trauma.
"It's been a long time since we've worked a case apart," she says quietly.
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After Sherlock's reminder, he would've asked anyway, to make sure. Even if he hadn't picked up on that quiet bit of sadness there.
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It's a moment before she answers.
"It hasn't been easy," she says. The strain in her voice hints that there's so much left unsaid behind those words.
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Maybe sometimes that will look like one of them helping the other through tough times. But if they're both having a hard time, then they need to be able to both share. And if Ted's worry about Joan weighs on him, then he can share that with Beard. Joan doesn't really have anyone to lean on for her worry about Ted right now.
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When she finally speaks, her voice is very quiet.
"What happens if we don't solve the case?"
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"Then I guess eventually we reach the point where staying apart hurts more than the risk of being together," he answers. Because he can't imagine the risk outweighing the hurt of saying goodbye to Joan forever.
Even now, today, after having been attacked and driven to a panic attack, again. He just loves Joan so much.
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She's fighting that voice, though, armed with the knowledge that Ted loves her, that Ted chooses her, even in the face of potential danger, or even actual danger.
"It hurts a lot," she says quietly.
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"How about we give it a week? Give you guys some time to follow up on Perry. If there's no progress, then just... Come back. And we can try to solve it together instead," he suggests.
He knows part of the reason it hurts so much right now is because it feels so indefinite, so eternal. If there's a light at the end of the tunnel, then it's easier to bear in the meantime.
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"I think I can last a week," she says, her tone lighter but the hint of tears still in her voice.
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"And until then, why don't you spend some time with Marcus and Gregson, or some other friends? Take a break. You need time to recharge too," he suggests. He really doesn't want her to neglect herself, since it seems like Sherlock was definitely right about her tendency to do so. "You know, like in athletics, you gotta have rest days to let your body heal and build itself up. Same thing's true for your heart and your brain."
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He's right, of course. She's been keeping herself shut away, rationalizing it as the same thing she did when Andrew died, as something she needs to do to keep up the facade and concentrate on the work. But staying so isolated isn't actually helping anything.
She's also realizing that part of that self-isolation is penance. Penance for the hurt Ted is going through, feeling responsible even though they don't yet know that the attack had anything to do with her. She's paid penance for so many things in her life, it's subconscious at this point.
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"What are they like, by the way? You haven't really spoken about them," he points out, curious to hear about the people she and Sherlock work with usually.
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"Captain Gregson is great. He's always been good to me and Sherlock. It's not always easy to be a consultant with a police department. A lot of cops are resentful of us. And I get it. We're often called in on cases that the detectives in the department couldn't handle. We're also technically civilians, so there are a lot of restrictions that don't apply to us. Even when he's gotten crap for using us, though, he's been in our corner. Honestly, I think Sherlock sees him as a father figure. Which is good, because Sherlock's father is honestly pretty horrible."
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They go on to discuss other random things for a while, and Ted feels a lot lighter after having the conversation. After that, Shaun arrives, and Ted has to hang up.
He doesn't call Joan in the evening, but he does text her a goodnight message. He just doesn't want to become entirely dependent on her comfort and distraction to be able to sleep. He does wake up from a nightmare at some point, but manages to calm himself back down and eventually fall back asleep. It's progress, if only a little.
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The next morning Joan wakes up to a text from Sherlock.
Perry Perkins. Not an alias.
Well that answers her first question.
She texts Ted.
We have a name.
She throws herself into research, looking for mentions of the man in anything she can get her hands on, and turning to Everyone for help, promising them tickets to the next Richmond game in exchange.
It's only an hour before Everyone gets back to her with Perry's bank records, which showed a recent deposit of 25 thousand pounds from a Swiss bank account. The fact that he was paid so much only bolsters the Moriarty theory.
Joan contacts Sherlock, and the two of them do everything in their power to figure out who made that transfer. They fail.
By the evening Joan is at her wit's end. She hasn't talked to Ted since that text, too busy and too focused. When Sherlock tells her that their last resource fell through, Joan makes a decision.
The coffee shop is small and cozy, the sort of place that sells art and indie music CDs. Someone might notice that all of the employees are women.
"May I help you?" the barista, a woman with blue hair and a nose ring, says as Joan steps up to the counter.
"You know who I am," Joan says, a statement and not a question.
The barista stares at her impassively. Her non-answer is answer enough.
"I have a message for your boss," Joan says. "Tell her that if she ever hurts Ted Lasso again, I will not rest until I have burned her entire empire to the ground."
"One soy milk latte coming up," the woman says, ringing it up.
Joan pays for the same drink that killed Andrew and almost killed her, then leaves. She goes home and spends hours staring at the crazy wall, thinking about the Napoleon of Crime. She falls asleep on the couch.
She wakes to the ring of the doorbell. When she goes to the door she sees that an envelope has been slipped under the door. She looks outside. Whoever left the envelope is gone.
Joan picks up the envelope and opens it. It's a card. On the front is a picture of a wistful-looking greyhound.
She opens the card. "Thinking of you" is printed on the inside, then below that is handwriting Joan recognizes as Moriarty's.
My dearest Watson,
I am both flattered and wounded by your message. Flattered that you would think of me, wounded that you would think I would hurt you. I suppose I must make myself clear. I have no intention to remove you from the board. You amuse me. You are also important to Sherlock. Make no mistake, my dear; I could have had your lover taken and tortured, but it would not be sporting.
You may be assured, therefore, that you and yours are protected. Pursuant of this, and in a gesture of goodwill, I have handled your problem. I hope you will understand I cannot go to the source. Please trust, however, that no one will target your dear gaffer again.
Give my regards to Sherlock.
Ever yours,
Jamie Moriarty
"Shit," Joan swears, and immediately calls Sherlock. She knows exactly what Moriarty means.
In London, Ted will find a similar envelope slipped under his door. When he opens it he finds a note and a photograph.
The note reads:
With Moriarty's regards.
And the photo is of Rupert Mannion.
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He goes to work - not to actually work, but to say hi to Rebecca and the team, and to watch them practice. He hasn't made her biscuits, but he promises that he will, definitely by the time he returns to work. Everyone's just a little bit weird around him, not necessarily in a bad way, but definitely weird. But also very supportive. He realizes how much he's missed them in the week he's been gone.
He doesn't see Joan's text until he gets back home later in the day. He tells her to text him if she needs anything. When she doesn't, he assumes she's busy working. So him and Beard go out to the pub. Everyone is very supportive there too. Even Baz.
It's a good day. As good as can be at least, given the circumstances. He gives Joan a goodnight text, and tries not to worry too much when he doesn't hear back. After a moderate amount of drinking at the pub, he passes out easy.
The next day he takes it a bit easier. He knows he shouldn't be running around while he's still healing. He just spends his time reading, which is an effective way of occupying his brain.
It's early afternoon on Wednesday when the doorbell rings. Ted isn't expecting anyone, and it takes him a little while to actually get to the door in his current state. No one is there when he gets there, but there is an envelope.
His first reaction to the contents is confusion. Why on earth did someone deliver him a photo of Rupert? And then he reads the note, and his heart speeds up.
He practically runs up the stairs, as much as he's capable of running. And he immediately calls Joan. Heck, if she doesn't answer on the special phone, he has every intention of calling on the regular phone, secrecy be damned. Secrecy is probably out the window now anyway.
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