trashchildren | For Joan

"I can do that," she answers with a smile. It wouldn't be much more work than just wheeling her back to the bedroom.

"Excellent," he says, and cups her face from behind with both hands for a moment and plants a kiss on the top of her turban. "Alright, cutesyness on hold," he says teasingly, then heads for the kitchen.

"You hungry, Sherlock?"

She laughs as he kisses the turban, reaching out to touch his waist with her hands as he does so. "Alas," she answers to his teasing, smiling at him.

Sherlock is in the living room when they emerge, engrossed in something he's reading on his laptop. "Yeah," he says absently, not looking up. "Food is good."

Joan glances at Ted with a little shrug. That's Sherlock.

Ted smiles and shrugs back. Hey, at least he answered, that's the important part. He sets her up with a good view of the kitchen, then carefully limps to the fridge.

"Alright, you want to try that chicken and egg rice thing, or should we leave that for tomorrow and just do like a simple tomato soup?"

"It might be a good thing to have something solid in my stomach," she muses. "Just in case the medication doesn't agree with me. The chicken and egg rice sounds perfect."

It's a little adventurous, but she's feeling up for it.

"Yes, ma'am," he answers, and starts pulling out ingredients and arranging them on the counter. He pulls up the recipe on his phone as well, so he can check himself as he goes along, since he hasn't made this exact recipe before. It's not particularly complicated, but he wants to get it right.

She watches him moving about the kitchen, gathering the things he'll need, and she can't help but smile. She loves the simplicity of just being with him, keeping him company as he cooks. It's quiet and comfortable and sweet.

"How do you like this kitchen?" she asks.

"Better than the last one I cooked in," he says with a chuckle, starting to prepare the chicken. That underground bunker wasn't exactly very homey. "But yeah, it's nice. Though it's gonna take me a bit to remember where everything is, get comfortable, you know."

She smiles, remembering that kitchen. "Not that high of a bar," she says, amused.

"Yeah," she says. "Sometimes that takes a while. But at least you can arrange it just the way you want."

"Yeah, I've been lead to assume I'll probably be the only one cooking here," he says. "Do you even use the kitchen over there?" he asks, pointing at the wall that leads to apartment B.

"Oh yeah," she responds. "Mostly for coffee. Or my smoothies. Or Sherlock's eggs or Yorkshire puddings. Or the occasional body part in the fridge."

It sounds like she must be kidding. She's not kidding.

Ted pauses, as he's currently spicing some raw chicken breasts. He turns to Joan, squinting at her like he's afraid to ask. "Hu... Human body parts?"

"Just every once in a while," she says with an amused smile and a small shrug. "It's really not all that common. But it's been known to happen."

"I'm suddenly very glad we got our own apartment," he says with a shudder, then looks back at the chicken with a look of distaste. Thankfully it'll look far more appetizing (and less flesh-like) when it's all cooked.

She chuckles at that, amused, then her amused smile settles into wistfulness.

"We could live here," she says softly. "After I get better. This could be our place. When I'm working on a case I could sleep here, with you. We wouldn't have to spend days apart."

Ted pauses for a second, considering that. "That's a thought," he answers, glancing at her with a soft smile, before returning to cooking. He doesn't sound like he's outright discounting it, but he's not necessarily jumping on the idea either.

She answers that soft smile, a touch of sadness in her expression. It's not an outright rejection, but she knows Ted probably wouldn't outright reject her regardless. He's too kind. And she gets it.

"It would be harder for you," she says softly. "Being this far away from Richmond."

It's the only thing she voices, but she can imagine he might not want to move in together for other reasons. Maybe it's just too soon. Maybe this is all too fast.

Ted hums and nods a bit at that. It's half an hour by car, which isn't a terrible commute. But it wouldn't let him walk around town, sit at the pub, chat with the locals. Getting a coffee in the morning with Beard. He values that stuff a lot.

He remains quiet for a couple minutes, preparing stuff, starting the rice, cooking the chicken..

Once he's had a moment to mull it over, and has a second where he doesn't need to be actively messing with the food, he turns to Joan, leaning against the counter.

"I just... find it difficult to plan things right now, I guess?" he explains. "Feels almost like tempting fate, you know."

Having one thing after another thrown at them has been rough on them both. It was the same thing he felt when she suggested that Henry could move here. He's just not in the mindset to look further than a week or two in advance. Whenever he seems to get a handle on the current crisis, another one shows up.

"I get that," she says softly. "I guess I like having things to look forward to. Whatever happens or doesn't happen, though, the only thing that matters to me is that we're together."

Ted smiles at that, and walks over to her (using the counter for support) to give her a soft, loving kiss. He very much agrees with that.

"I'd like to live with you," he says. It is soon, it is fast. But so are their feelings. As long as they adjust for developments underway, that shouldn't be a problem.

"I mean, maybe we could figure out some sort of half-and-half," he suggests. "Depending on whether you have a case, whether I have a match, all that sort of stuff."

She raises her hands to take his as he kisses her. It absolutely is soon, and fast. It took Joan years to completely commit to her partnership with Sherlock, and for Sherlock to commit to their partnership as well. But Joan is sure about this, about this man, about this love.

She smiles at the suggestion. "I'd like that." It's a good compromise, looking forward to being together while remaining flexible to take on whatever comes their way.

He smiles and gives her hands a squeeze. "And hey, I'm sure I'll make friends with the locals around here soon enough too," he adds with a chuckle. Soon as he feels okay leaving Joan on her own, and as long as it's not too far for him to walk with his crutches.

"Oh, definitely," she says with a smile. "They're going to love you." That's just generally true. He's won over so many people in his time at Richmond, from the players to the fans, that she honestly can't imagine anywhere he would not eventually be beloved of many, if not most, of the locals.

"And hey, maybe fewer people here will insult me too," he adds playfully, before turning turning to look at the stove-top as something sizzles loudly. "Oops, gotta go," he says, lifting her hand to give it a quick kiss before hurrying off to avert disaster.

"Almost certainly," she says. The people in Richmond have reasons for yelling insults at Ted, as completely misguided as they are. Joan can't imagine anyone in central London having reason to insult Ted.

She releases his hands and smiles as she watches him hurry back to the stove. "It smells good," she says.

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