Joan is grateful for his optimism. It's helped her see the world and the people in it in a new and better light. Right now, though, she's grateful for it for his sake. This situation is scary, and his optimism will serve him well. She hopes he might be able to help Sherlock see the good in the world the same way he helped her.
Joan makes sure it's a proper kiss and not just a perfunctory peck. Sherlock will definitely just have to deal.
And deal he does, looking down but without a sigh or an eyeroll.
"I'm feeling fine," she says. "A little tired still. It's possible the seizures have been making my sleep less effective. I might recover faster now that we're taking care of them."
Dr. Bergen comes over with her phone. "I'm going to order the Keppra from a local pharmacy and have them deliver," she tells Joan. "Will that work?"
"It should." Joan looks over at Sherlock. "Could you get it when it comes?"
Ted is only half paying attention to the other people in the room anyway, mostly focused on Joan. He takes her hand again, stroking it with his thumb, just wanting to hold onto some part of her.
"The team sends their love, by the way," he says with a soft smile, wanting to have at least something happy.
She smiles back, definitely happy about that, fond of the little family that Ted has made of the team and happy to be part of the larger family that also embraces Rebecca and Keeley and Higgins.
"How did it go?" she asks, but before Ted can answer, Dr. Bergen interrupts.
"Sorry...how about we get those electrodes off your head?"
"Ah," Joan says. "That would be nice." She looks over at Sherlock, who doesn't need to be asked. He comes over to pick her up and get her back in the chair.
Ted moves out of the way to give Sherlock room, sitting back down in the chair while she gets all that stuff off her.
"Yeah, it went alright," he answers, while the doctor starts doing her thing, happy to distract and entertain Joan in the meantime. "They're all very supportive. And supportively outraged," he adds with a soft chuckle. She's met them, so she can probably imagine.
"You know, their hearts are in the right place, but they can be a bit..." He pauses, not sure how to say it politely. "Well, Keeley tells me twitter calls them 'himbos'."
She's glad to have the distraction, both from the tedious process of having all those electrodes removed from her head and from the situation in general. Her scalp and hair will be full of glue after this is all over, which means they'll have an excuse to take another long shower together to wash it all out.
She laughs at the term "himbos." (Dr. Bergen chuckles as well.) "Wow...it feels mean but I can't say I disagree with that assessment."
"Yeah, you're right, I was probably too much of a jerk to qualify," he says, jokingly thoughtful, as if that's what stood between him and the himbo label.
She laughs, able to recognize the more subtle aspects of Lasso humor that are sometimes lost on the uninitiated. "Pretty sure that's not it," she says. "Himbos would be oblivious. I can't see you ever being oblivious. At least not to that level."
"Oh, you may be vastly underestimating the levels of airheadedness I could get to in my younger years," he argues, amused and not remotely ashamed by it. He still has moments of being oblivious, and he's perfectly alright with that. They've already got two brainiacs in this household, they're covered on that front.
"Mmm," she hums, eyes playfully narrowed as she considers that. "Nope," she says finally. "Don't believe it. Being an airhead is one thing. I think 'himbo' goes to an extreme past mere airheadedness."
She has no problems whatsoever that Ted isn't a brainiac, his intelligence being heavily emotional as opposed to academic. But she wouldn't necessarily call him oblivious. More that he sees the world differently. There are things he sees that she doesn't.
"Alright, so, gangly, mean, and too smart, so I was the anti-himbo," he concludes with a chuckle. "But if that's the case, I don't think that's fair to the team either. You don't get to where they are by having your nose stuck in a book." Only some of them are true airheads.
Ted chuckles, then turns in his seat to look at Sherlock. "What about you? What's the himbo ratio in law enforcement?" he asks, both out of curiosity, and out of wanting to include Sherlock in the conversation.
He assumes the vast majority of the criminals don't qualify on account of the kindness requirement. At least the criminals he deals with, which probably aren't just kids who got a bad start in life.
Sherlock, who has returned to standing against the wall and tapping his fingertips against his mouth, moves his hand to answer, going instead to tapping the tip of his index finger against his thumb. "Amongst law enforcement?" he says. "Distressingly high. Among criminals? I would posit that a certain degree of sincerity is necessarily a trait of a 'himbo.' Something that most criminals are lacking."
"He might be exaggerating the percentage of himbos in law enforcement," Joan notes with amusement. "At very least they don't tend to become detectives. Heavier on the enforcing than the investigating."
"I still maintain the percentage is distressingly high," Sherlock objects.
"I'm going to guess you'd consider the men who don't work well with us to be himbos," she counters.
Ted grins with amusement, enjoying listening to them argue.
"I mean, he's got a point though," Ted chimes in. "Doesn't need to be that high to be distressing. 10% of football players is probably fine. 10% of cops, you've got a problem."
Ted blinks in surprise as well, accepting it. "Pretty sure it's not my birthday," he comments. The gift-wrapping is a nice touch...
He locates a card, and reads it out loud. "'To keep your skills sharp'. From AFC Richmond," he says, and gets an even more confused look on his face. He starts unwrapping in, and soon the his face turns to amusement instead.
"The team got me a PS5 and a copy of FIFA," he says, holding the box up with a smile.
"Oh my god!" Joan says when she sees the box. "That's so sweet of them!"
"You have a rather dedicated team," Sherlock notes. "We shall have to procure a decently large television set so you can get the full benefit of the gift."
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"How do you feel?" he asks gently. He has no idea what sort of toll those seizures might take on her, or whether she'd even notice any difference.
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And deal he does, looking down but without a sigh or an eyeroll.
"I'm feeling fine," she says. "A little tired still. It's possible the seizures have been making my sleep less effective. I might recover faster now that we're taking care of them."
Dr. Bergen comes over with her phone. "I'm going to order the Keppra from a local pharmacy and have them deliver," she tells Joan. "Will that work?"
"It should." Joan looks over at Sherlock. "Could you get it when it comes?"
"Of course," he answers.
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"The team sends their love, by the way," he says with a soft smile, wanting to have at least something happy.
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"How did it go?" she asks, but before Ted can answer, Dr. Bergen interrupts.
"Sorry...how about we get those electrodes off your head?"
"Ah," Joan says. "That would be nice." She looks over at Sherlock, who doesn't need to be asked. He comes over to pick her up and get her back in the chair.
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"Yeah, it went alright," he answers, while the doctor starts doing her thing, happy to distract and entertain Joan in the meantime. "They're all very supportive. And supportively outraged," he adds with a soft chuckle. She's met them, so she can probably imagine.
"You know, their hearts are in the right place, but they can be a bit..." He pauses, not sure how to say it politely. "Well, Keeley tells me twitter calls them 'himbos'."
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She laughs at the term "himbos." (Dr. Bergen chuckles as well.) "Wow...it feels mean but I can't say I disagree with that assessment."
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"Well, I probably was at that age too," he says with a chuckle. "Wait, does himbo also mean you had to be as big and muscly? Cause I was not that."
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"I think it's implied," she says with a grin. "Even without that, though, I really doubt you were a himbo."
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She has no problems whatsoever that Ted isn't a brainiac, his intelligence being heavily emotional as opposed to academic. But she wouldn't necessarily call him oblivious. More that he sees the world differently. There are things he sees that she doesn't.
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"Amen," Dr. Bergen says with a quirk of a smile.
Joan points up at her. "See? Not just me!"
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He assumes the vast majority of the criminals don't qualify on account of the kindness requirement. At least the criminals he deals with, which probably aren't just kids who got a bad start in life.
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"Yeah, I figured that part," Ted agrees. "And you're right, I don't don't think I'd want himbos solving crimes."
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"I still maintain the percentage is distressingly high," Sherlock objects.
"I'm going to guess you'd consider the men who don't work well with us to be himbos," she counters.
"Not all of them."
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"I mean, he's got a point though," Ted chimes in. "Doesn't need to be that high to be distressing. 10% of football players is probably fine. 10% of cops, you've got a problem."
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"On that we agree, Watson," Sherlock says. "It is over 10%."
Joan rolls her eyes with a scoff.
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He's about to say something else when the doorbell rings.
"That was quick," he comments, assuming it's the medication.
The delivery person at the door however is carrying a sizeable gift-wrapped package addressed to Ted.
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"Did you order me a year's supply?" she half-kiddingly asks Dr. Bergen.
"Actually it's addressed to Ted," Sherlock says, handing the package to him.
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He locates a card, and reads it out loud. "'To keep your skills sharp'. From AFC Richmond," he says, and gets an even more confused look on his face. He starts unwrapping in, and soon the his face turns to amusement instead.
"The team got me a PS5 and a copy of FIFA," he says, holding the box up with a smile.
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"You have a rather dedicated team," Sherlock notes. "We shall have to procure a decently large television set so you can get the full benefit of the gift."
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