trashchildren | For Joan

Joan sees that frown, that sadness in his expression, and she wonders if perhaps he's thinking the same thing. Again she wishes these terrible things hadn't happened to this good, kind, gentle man.

She reaches up to gently turn his face toward hers, to give him a soft kiss.

Ted smiles softly into the kiss, at the gentle affection shown when she notices him being sad. He loves her for that. He squeezes her shoulders gently in gratitude.

He bites his lip thoughtfully for a second. "Do you think it would be inappropriate if I went to Turner's funeral?"

That's so Ted, and she loves him for it. "I think it would be very sweet for you to go," she answers softly. "He didn't really have any family, and not many friends."

She gives him another soft kiss.

"Can I come with you?"

"Of course," he answers, happy that she wants to come with. He's sure it will be emotional for him, so he's glad to have her support. "Just feel like it might provide some closure, you know?"

The trial and all that would've been the other form of closure, but of course now they won't have that. Well... not for Turner. Rupert, however, hopefully. And that will surely be an ordeal, but worth it if it means he won't get to hurt anyone else.

"It might," she says. "I've counseled a lot of grieving families as a doctor and as a detective. Closure can be a tricky thing. But I think going to the funeral will help."

She thinks it's a good idea, and that it will help him process his feelings about Turner and what Turner did to him, but she doesn't want him to set his expectations too high.

Ted nods a bit. Not like he magically expected to feel better or anything, but it'll be a step. He continues thinking about that for a second, and then he suddenly shakes his head a little bit, like he's shaking away the thoughts.

"What about you, you have any pets growing up?" he asks, to bring them back the nicer subject.

She smiles, happy to get back to the pets conversation.

"I did not," she says, snuggling close again. "My mother wasn't into the idea."

"Right, right," Ted answers with a smile, nodding. "Didn't place that much value on the nurturing kind of responsibility, I take it?"

"Not so much," she agrees. "My mom is also the sort that doesn't like to be out of control. There's only so much control you can have over a pet."

Or a mental illness, she adds in her mind.

"Or kids," Ted points out. Or so much control you should have, at least. If you want them to be healthy and happy. Which ideally, as a parent, you should definitely want.

"I think she thought she would have a lot more control in that arena than she actually did," she says, amused. "She still tries to control us. She's more successful than I would like. And less successful than she would like."

"Sounds about right, yeah," Ted agrees. "Hey, at least you've worked out a middle ground, huh?" he jokes, mostly cause Joan seems amused by it. If it were a more fraught relationship, he definitely wouldn't have made that joke. "Hey, that's actually one of the interesting differences between coaching football and soccer, once you're actually in a match."

"For the most part," Joan says with a smile. Of course it's harder now with her mom's Alzheimer's, but she doesn't want to bring down the conversation again.

"How so?" Joan knows football pretty well, but not much about soccer.

"That you can't really tell them what to do," he explains. "You just gotta... send them out there and hope they remember what you tried to teach them, you know?"

"That is very much like being a parent," she agrees. She smiles. "That must be why you're an amazing parent and an amazing coach."

Ted smiles and gives her a soft kiss as thanks for that bit of sweetness. "If only I could be both at the same time, huh?" he says wistfully. It's the one big challenge of coaching Richmond, being so far away from Henry.

"Have you ever thought of having Henry come stay with you for a while?" she asks. "School might be hard to work around, but maybe during a break?"

"I mean sure, but... he's got all his friends, you know?" Ted answers. "And unless I have vacation too, I don't really have that much time to spend with him. I just go back home instead, when I can."

He sighs sadly. "It's not that I never see him. I just miss that feeling of being able to come home from work and just sitting down to watch a movie or something with him, and it's just a normal day, you know?"

"He could make some friends here," she points out. "And you don't need to be with him all the time while he's here."

She doesn't want to complicate things...just point out other options.

Ted looks at her curiously, then pauses to mull it over. She's not wrong. He's sure there's plenty of activities and stuff like that. Roy and Keeley could probably watch him sometimes, since he has a niece the same age. There's options... Maybe even Joan could watch him, once they actually get to meet.

"Maybe I'll bring it up to Michelle sometime," he concedes. He doesn't want to get his hopes up too much though, nor does he want to complicate things with her. But she might want a vacation with her friends or something like that sometime, and not have to rely on grandparents to help.

Joan would absolutely love to watch Henry while Ted is working, but she doesn't want to make that a part of his decision, lest he feel awkward about her stepping into a role usually filled by his ex-wife.

"I'm sure he'd love to be here," she says. "It's not every kid that has the opportunity to spend time in London."

"Yeah, we'll figure something out," Ted agrees, but in a gently dismissive way that implies he doesn't want to discuss it further right now.

Joan gets it. She kisses his cheek, then settles against him again with a happy sigh. The circumstances aren't great, but at least they're together and comfortable and safe.

He just finds it difficult to plan for things right now. Daydreaming about vacations is far enough from reality that it doesn't make him sad that he can't do it right now. And still reminding them that they have a future outside of their current situation.

"So what do we do for food here?" he asks curiously, angling his head a little to the area pretending to be a kitchen.

"Mmm," she says, looking in that direction as well. "The cabinets are full of shelf-stable supplies. Cans and boxes and whatnot." She smiles up at him. "There should be a couple jars of peanut butter if you want to crack one open and leave it on the counter."

She's aware of and amused by the habit.

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