"Alright, so... What do I do, I mean. Do I not accept drinks from strangers, not go to the bathroom by myself, like. What level of paranoia should I be working with here?" he asks. The first part specifically because he knows that's what happened to Andrew.
Her hand tightens in his at the mention of the drink, and she looks at the floor, trying and failing to not picture herself performing endless and useless CPR on Ted.
"I have arranged for there to be plainclothes officers in attendance," Sherlock assures him. "As long as you are reasonably cautious, you should be fine."
Ted strokes her hand reassuringly with his thumb when her hand tightens. Honestly, he doubts Rupert would time something like this right before the gala. Maybe at the gala, if he wants to be dramatic. (Ted can't believe he's actually thinking like this.) But he's going to be cautious, and go to the safe house, and do everything they ask of him, not just for his own safety, but to make Joan feel safe. This is already hard enough on her.
"Alright, that's good," he answers, nodding. He gently pulls his hand from Joan's, but just so he can put his arm around her instead, holding her close and giving her a slight reassuring squeeze.
"So... I assume we're keeping all this very much at the down-low, right?" he asks. "Does Rebecca know any of this?" Cause while he knows it's important, he feels bad keeping her out of the loop. It's her gala, and her ex-husband.
Joan leans into the embrace, resting her head on Ted's shoulder. They're going to be okay, she tells herself. They'll be careful. And they'll be together.
"Miss Welton is not aware, no," Sherlock answers. "I'm afraid that, for her safety, it shall have to remain that way."
"Okay..." Ted answers with a nod, though it's obvious he doesn't think it's actually okay. He just understands that it's necessary and for the best.
"Um... Did Marion have any family who's still alive?" he asks. Sherlock made it sound like her parents had passed away, but in case there's a sibling or a close aunt or something like that, he wants to know.
Joan knows Ted doesn't like keeping important things from Rebecca. "The minute it's safe to do so, we'll sit down with her and tell her everything," she promises.
"Marion had a younger brother," Sherlock answers. "He was ten years old at the time."
Ted's heart aches at that. The poor guy... He doesn't say it now, just nods, but he makes a mental note to contact him when they've got Rupert. Even if they can't prove he did it, maybe it will help to just have someone believe them. Though of course, if he was just ten, Ted doesn't really know how he feels about all of that now.
"Alright, so... Anything else we need to know?" he asks. He's starting to be pretty done with this conversation. To say it's emotionally difficult would be an understatement.
"Only a reminder that you must be cautious about ensuring no one knows your location at the safehouse. I recommend you notify one person you trust that you will be out of touch until the gala."
Ted nods in agreement at that. Beard has been a confidant and a pillar of support throughout this entire thing.
He looks at the time, and figures he might as well do that right now. He doesn't want to text though. If someone kidnapped him, they could easily take his phone and text people not to worry. (He really hates that he thinks like that now.)
So Ted calls Beard, who picks up right away, and yeah, he already sounds worried. Ted does his best to sound reassuring.
"Hey Coach, how's practice?" he asks, nodding a bit. "Uh-huh. Alright, that's good... Listen, I just wanted to let you know that Joan and I are going to take some time to ourselves until the gala, so I'm not gonna check my phone. ... No yeah, it's all good. We'll see you tomorrow, yeah? ... Alright, take care."
Ted hangs up with Beard, catching the end of Joan and Sherlock's conversation. He texts Shaun as well, letting him know not to come by today, as he's not going to be home. After that, he puts his phone on the table as well.
"So, how are we going to do the gala thing?" he asks curiously. "I mean, I should probably wear a suit, and not.." he continues, gesturing to his rather more relaxed outfit.
"Either I can have someone go to your flat, or you can tell me your measurements and I can purchase one and have it delivered." He looks to Joan. "Will the grey silk ballgown suffice?"
"It'll do." Joan turns to Ted. "Do you want to text Henry so he knows you won't be calling him tonight?"
"Oh, no need to buy one," Ted answers immediately. He's assuming the danger is in him going home, because he'll be easy to trace, and not because there might be a bomb planted there or something like that, so someone else should be safe.
At the reminder of Henry though, Ted looks disappointed. Talking to him is such a matter of fact, it didn't even occur to him that he can't. "Oh... Yeah.."
He picks up the phone and texts Henry, letting him know that he can't talk tonight, but that he loves him very much and they'll talk soon. He definitely looks sad when he puts the phone down again.
Ted nods a little, leaning against her. He knows that. Nothing's really changed, but it's just one of those ways of making it all feel a more real, and by extension, scarier and more upsetting.
"Yeah," Ted agrees reluctantly. He doesn't really want to do this, for the same reason he didn't want Joan to leave. They don't know how long it will be. Hopefully it won't be long, but... "Yeah, I'm ready."
Joan stands and picks up Ted's crutch to hand to him.
"We're going to take three cabs," she tells him. "Then we'll walk a bit before we get to our destination. That way it will be harder to follow us." She looks at Sherlock. "Keep us informed, okay?"
Ted blinks a bit at that. "Whatever you say," he answers. He probably should've brought a second crutch, but he'll be alright. "Feel like I'm in a spy movie. And honestly I preferred it when we were in a rom-com."
Joan's heart sinks a little at that. It might not be her fault that Ted is going through this right now (and she knows that he would be emphatic on that point) but her life has spy movie aspects that aren't going to change.
She leans forward and kisses him gently.
"When this is all over, we can be a romcom for a while," she promises.
And as long as Ted doesn't have to be directly part of the spy movie aspects, he's fine with that. He's just not very suited for doing it himself.
Ted smiles a little as he kisses her back. "I look forward to it," he answers. Not just for his sake, but for hers as well. She might be just fine dealing with this on her own, but he can tell it's taking a toll on her, worrying about his safety, and feeling guilty for the hardship, even if it's not her fault.
"And thank you, Sherlock, I really appreciate all this," he adds to Sherlock.
"It's at the top of my priority list," Ted promises with apparent cheerfulness, though it's not hard to tell from the circumstances that his cheer is most definitely a conscious choice as opposed to a natural feeling right now.
Sherlock nods grimly at them both. "On your way, then."
The route that Joan leads them on is complicated. They take one cab across the city, cross a few streets then hail another one, taking that one to the northern outskirts, then walking another couple blocks before hopping a third cab down to the docks. Joan takes them through an alleyway to a basement door. They go through the basement and out the other side into another alley. Down that alley is another basement door that she enters. This one she locks behind them. There's a short hallway that leads to another door, which Joan unlocks and again locks behind them once they're through. She turns on the light.
Inside is a simple studio apartment, with a queen sized bed, a small kitchenette, a tiny bathroom, a single light above the middle of the room...and no windows and at least five locks on the door.
Ted consciously doesn't question or comment on the complicatedness of the route. It feels unnecessarily extreme, but he doesn't say so, just trusts Joan.
These London cabs aren't really made for chatting with the drivers unfortunately, so instead he looks out the window, taking it as a sightseeing trip. Occasionally he'll point something out to Joan, whenever he sees something fun.
The walking is a bit more stressful, as he doesn't want to dawdle, but he has to walk somewhat carefully on the cast, even with a crutch.
Once they get there, Ted looks at Joan to make sure they're actually done, before he starts looking around. "This is cozy," he comments, which is probably a pretty generous description.
no subject
no subject
"I have arranged for there to be plainclothes officers in attendance," Sherlock assures him. "As long as you are reasonably cautious, you should be fine."
no subject
"Alright, that's good," he answers, nodding. He gently pulls his hand from Joan's, but just so he can put his arm around her instead, holding her close and giving her a slight reassuring squeeze.
"So... I assume we're keeping all this very much at the down-low, right?" he asks. "Does Rebecca know any of this?" Cause while he knows it's important, he feels bad keeping her out of the loop. It's her gala, and her ex-husband.
no subject
"Miss Welton is not aware, no," Sherlock answers. "I'm afraid that, for her safety, it shall have to remain that way."
no subject
"Um... Did Marion have any family who's still alive?" he asks. Sherlock made it sound like her parents had passed away, but in case there's a sibling or a close aunt or something like that, he wants to know.
no subject
"Marion had a younger brother," Sherlock answers. "He was ten years old at the time."
no subject
"Alright, so... Anything else we need to know?" he asks. He's starting to be pretty done with this conversation. To say it's emotionally difficult would be an understatement.
no subject
"Beard would be a good choice," Joan suggests.
no subject
He looks at the time, and figures he might as well do that right now. He doesn't want to text though. If someone kidnapped him, they could easily take his phone and text people not to worry. (He really hates that he thinks like that now.)
So Ted calls Beard, who picks up right away, and yeah, he already sounds worried. Ted does his best to sound reassuring.
"Hey Coach, how's practice?" he asks, nodding a bit. "Uh-huh. Alright, that's good... Listen, I just wanted to let you know that Joan and I are going to take some time to ourselves until the gala, so I'm not gonna check my phone. ... No yeah, it's all good. We'll see you tomorrow, yeah? ... Alright, take care."
no subject
"Emergencies only."
"Got it," she says, sliding it into her pocket. "Which safehouse are we using?"
"The one by the docks. Do you remember the evasive measures I taught you?"
"Yes. I take it we don't have time to go back to Ted's apartment?"
"It would be best if you didn't. And best if you left your phones here."
Joan sighs and takes out her phone and puts it on the table.
no subject
"So, how are we going to do the gala thing?" he asks curiously. "I mean, I should probably wear a suit, and not.." he continues, gesturing to his rather more relaxed outfit.
no subject
"It'll do." Joan turns to Ted. "Do you want to text Henry so he knows you won't be calling him tonight?"
no subject
At the reminder of Henry though, Ted looks disappointed. Talking to him is such a matter of fact, it didn't even occur to him that he can't. "Oh... Yeah.."
He picks up the phone and texts Henry, letting him know that he can't talk tonight, but that he loves him very much and they'll talk soon. He definitely looks sad when he puts the phone down again.
no subject
"It'll be okay," she says softly, resting her forehead against his and cradling the back of his head. "You'll be able to talk to him soon."
no subject
no subject
Finally Sherlock clears his throat and Joan pulls back, glancing at her partner apologetically.
"If you're ready..." he says.
"I think we are," Joan says, looking at Ted for confirmation.
no subject
no subject
"We're going to take three cabs," she tells him. "Then we'll walk a bit before we get to our destination. That way it will be harder to follow us." She looks at Sherlock. "Keep us informed, okay?"
"Of course."
no subject
no subject
She leans forward and kisses him gently.
"When this is all over, we can be a romcom for a while," she promises.
no subject
Ted smiles a little as he kisses her back. "I look forward to it," he answers. Not just for his sake, but for hers as well. She might be just fine dealing with this on her own, but he can tell it's taking a toll on her, worrying about his safety, and feeling guilty for the hardship, even if it's not her fault.
"And thank you, Sherlock, I really appreciate all this," he adds to Sherlock.
no subject
"We will," Joan assures him quietly, knowing that Sherlock is worried about her.
no subject
no subject
The route that Joan leads them on is complicated. They take one cab across the city, cross a few streets then hail another one, taking that one to the northern outskirts, then walking another couple blocks before hopping a third cab down to the docks. Joan takes them through an alleyway to a basement door. They go through the basement and out the other side into another alley. Down that alley is another basement door that she enters. This one she locks behind them. There's a short hallway that leads to another door, which Joan unlocks and again locks behind them once they're through. She turns on the light.
Inside is a simple studio apartment, with a queen sized bed, a small kitchenette, a tiny bathroom, a single light above the middle of the room...and no windows and at least five locks on the door.
no subject
These London cabs aren't really made for chatting with the drivers unfortunately, so instead he looks out the window, taking it as a sightseeing trip. Occasionally he'll point something out to Joan, whenever he sees something fun.
The walking is a bit more stressful, as he doesn't want to dawdle, but he has to walk somewhat carefully on the cast, even with a crutch.
Once they get there, Ted looks at Joan to make sure they're actually done, before he starts looking around. "This is cozy," he comments, which is probably a pretty generous description.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)