trashchildren | For Joan

Ted puts his hands on the arms of the armchair to support himself, just enjoying the kiss and how happy Joan is. It makes him feel so fulfilled, to make her feel such joy.

In the end it's his leg and back that ends up cutting the kiss short, not the food. "Ooh, ah," he exclaims softly, straightening up and rubbing at the back of his leg. "No, I know, I know," he says before Joan can say anything about it.

Joan winces. Dammit. "Sorry," she says softly. She should have thought of that. The last thing she wants to do is cause him pain. At least they'll be able to rest soon. If the smell has anything to do with it, the food will be delicious and is just about done.

Ted blows her a kiss instead, before he carefully hops over to the stove, using the counter for support. He checks a few cabinets before locating a few bowls that look big enough to prevent spilling of food while in bed.

Soon enough he can start piling stuff into the bowls, and there's even a bit leftover. He erred on the side of too much, since he wasn't sure exactly how much the recipe would end up making.

He turns towards the door to the living room. "Yoohoo, Spike-- I mean Sherlock. Dinner's ready." Yes, that's another vampire reference. The English one this time! More appropriate.

She blows him a kiss back and watches as he fills the bowls. She's glad there are leftovers...it will hopefully give Ted a bit of respite if the food can just be heated in the microwave, something even Sherlock is capable of.

When he calls to Sherlock she can't help but snort a little at the reference, giving Ted a playful roll of her eyes.

Sherlock comes in from the living room, where he has been pointedly NOT listening to them, except to note that Watson was laughing quite a bit, which makes Sherlock happy and grateful to Ted. Orgasms aside, laughter and joy really is beneficial to one's health.

"Where do you wish to consume dinner?" he asks.

"Bedroom. We'd like to get up as little as possible at least until tomorrow," he answers, heading over to Joan to let Sherlock transport the food, while Ted transports Joan.

"Also, I know that's not your thing, but personally I wish to enjoy dinner, not just consume it," he says, giving Sherlock a playful smile as he starts wheeling Joan towards the bedroom.

"Then I hope you do," Sherlock answers as he picks up the tray and follows Ted and Joan. Once they're in the bedroom Sherlock sets the tray down on the chair and goes to Watson, picking her up to place her on the bed, making sure she can sit comfortably against the headboard.

Ted was about to help her himself, but it's probably for the best that Sherlock does that. Even if he doesn't properly pick Joan up like Sherlock does, it probably wouldn't be good for him right now.

Instead he carefully hops over to his side, crawling in on the other side and getting comfortable.

Joan knows that Ted would happily help her into bed even if it hurts him, so she's grateful Sherlock is here to do it, if just to protect Ted.

When he climbs into bed next to her, she leans her head on his shoulder for just a moment, an affectionate gesture that she keeps brief out of respect for the agreement they've made.

Sherlock hands each of them a bowl and a fork, then takes one for himself.

Ted smiles at Joan, and quietly thanks Sherlock as he's handed the bowl.

"Alright, moment of truth," he says, and he takes a bite. He chews thoughtfully for a second, then nods approvingly. "Yeah alright. Not bad for a first try. Like it?" he asks Joan.

She takes a careful bite, chewing thoughtfully, and nods her head as she swallows. "It's good," she says. "I think it will agree with my stomach."

"Good," Ted answers with a smile, relieved the effort wasn't for nothing. (Though he would've just instructed Sherlock on how to make a smoothie if she couldn't eat it.)

"What about you?" he asks Sherlock. "Does it taste nutritional?" He grins.

"Protein," Sherlock says, stirring his food. "Carbohydrates. Fats. And edible. So yes. Well done."

Joan smiles and rolls her eyes as she takes another spoonful.

"Thanks, I appreciate that," Ted answers with a smile, and he does. Hey, he added the 'well done'! And it didn't sound too sarcastic.

He falls silent as they all focus on the eating for a while, and he realizes some of the tiredness was just from being hungry, and he's perking up a bit now. (Didn't help the back/leg pain, but the carefully sitting in a comfortable position did.)

"Shaun's coming by tomorrow morning, if that's okay," he says, suddenly remembering.

"Of course," Joan says. "Hopefully he can help with the pain."

She looks over at Sherlock, who has a questioning look on his face. "Physical therapist," she says.

"Ah."

"He's making sure I recover alright," he elaborates, though that much is probably obvious. "Which... I probably could be doing better at, I guess," he adds with a sheepish smile at Joan. "You'll like him though, he's a sweetie."

"I bet," Joan says with a smile. She's not going to lean into the fact that he needs to be more careful in his current condition. He's plenty aware of it himself, and she wants to support him, not make him feel bad.

What with the somewhat questionable amounts of sleep, the stress and panic, the being shoved by Turner, the walking around more than he should, it's overall not ideal to healing properly. Especially given he had a lot of different injuries at the same time, so his body's doing a lot of work just trying to repair everything.

"He was supposed to come by a bit more often, but obviously we've been a little busy lately," he says.

"We can restart your therapy," she promises. "We have nowhere to be but here, and nothing to do but get better."

They've been through so much, and both of them are in desperate need of some R and R.

"Sherlock can get us whatever we need," she says, smiling at her partner.

"Within reason," the detective says.

He doesn't argue that he does in fact have somewhere to be. He tries not to feel guilty for abandoning the team, but he feels it anyway. Even knowing he'll be much more use to them if he takes the time to heal.

"A spaceship?" Ted all but yells excitedly, before Sherlock has even finished saying 'within reason'. Get used to it, Sherlock.

Joan would argue back ... gently ... that the team would want him to take the time to get better. They definitely miss him, but they care about him, too.

Sherlock responds to the outburst with a scowl equal parts confusion and disdain. Joan chortles. She's used to this.

"...Bouncy castle?" he suggests, hopefully, undeterred by the scowl. It's a slightly more reasonably request. Not that they would get much use of it currently, maybe besides just laying in it.

Joan laughs and glances up at Sherlock, her eyes sparkling, loving Ted's playfulness and knowing that Sherlock won't know what to make of it.

"He's joking," she assures him. "Especially since neither of us should be bouncing in a bouncy castle right now."

Ted would think his joking was obvious, but then he is occasionally ridiculous in entirely genuine ways, so, maybe not. He just hopes he'll get some reluctant amusement out of Sherlock at some point.

"Yeah, besides, I got that Playstation, so I'm probably all set," he agrees with Joan, giving a big shrug.

Sherlock's sense of humor is dry as a bone and cynical as hell, so it's likely to take a while before he even recognizes Ted's humor, much less understands it...and finding it funny seems right out.

"Then what do you want me to get?" he asks. "Or order? You can have almost everything delivered these days."

"Well, the TV was a good suggestion," Ted answers, not joking this time. "I brought a suitcase over with most of my stuff. Besides that, I think we're pretty set?" he says, looking at Joan with raised eyebrows in case she can think of anything. There's gonna be little things, kitchenware for example, but they'll figure that out as they go along.

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