He shakes his head a little. "I'm sure you can imagine," he says and smiles softly. Honestly it would be weird if he didn't occasionally have bad dreams with everything that's going on. But it's not something he wants to dwell on.
"It helps waking up next to you though," he adds, his smile coming a bit easier as he leans over to give her a kiss.
She kisses him back, touching his cheek. When he pulls back she reaches up to gently brush his hair back from his forehead. Then her eyes widen a bit and she touches her own hair, still in Ted's braids.
"Did the braids get messed up while I was sleeping?"
Ted smiles at the question. "Only a bit," he answers. They've had a few sleeps since he made them, after all. "I can redo them after you get dressed," he offers. "Or undo them - you probably have really nice wavy hair right now."
"You should redo them," she says with a smile. "I'd love for Keeley and Roy to see your handiwork."
The front door to the apartment opens and closes, and Sherlock comes into the room carrying clothes. He sets them on the bad, then backs up. "I will leave you to it," he says with an open-palmed gesture toward the clothes, and turns around to exit the room again.
"Thanks, Sherlock," Ted answers, pushing himself up and stretching properly. He carefully gets to his feet, rubbing experimentally at his lower back, then nods to himself. Getting some good sleep (with supportive pillows) seems to be helping out his back at least.
He's about to head to the other side of the bed, then pauses and grabs at least one crutch, even if he's just going over there. He's trying to be good about it.
Ted smiles too, seeing how she's having a lot less trouble. "You look like you're feeling alright," he says, going to help her off with the tights. He imagines those will be harder for her to take off on her own.
Ted grins happily. "Aww shucks, turning my own words back on me, are ya?" he teases.
He sets the tights aside and then picks up the clothes to help her on with that. "So I'm more than happy to help you with clothes and braid your hair, but just as a warning, if you ask me to do your makeup then things are gonna take a turn for the worse," he says with a chuckle.
"They're good words," she says, answering his grin.
Joan is actually able to do a lot more than merely make it easier for Ted to dress her. She's not quite at the point where she can totally dress herself, but she's definitely getting there. She chuckles at Ted's words. "I'm probably going to just go without makeup. I don't tend to wear a lot anyway."
"Yeah, me neither," he answers with a playful smile. "But then neither of us need it to look gorgeous," he quips. Being silly and sweet to make up for that little pit in his stomach still hanging around, trying to chase it away.
She laughs a little, glancing down almost shyly at the silly and sweet compliment. You're always gorgeous," she says, looking up and smiling warmly, her eyes shining, so in love.
"It's the mustache, right? Makes ladies go crazy," he teases happily. When she looks at him like that it makes him feel all fuzzy inside, which is a far better feeling than the pit. He leans down to give her a kiss in between the getting dressed.
She hums into the kiss, then gives him a grin and a tilt of the head.
"I can't say the mustache is not doing it for me," she says playfully.
Joan looks over at the wheelchair. She knows she won't be able to make it to the dining room under her own power, but she's not crazy about just being wheeled around everywhere in front of people other than Sherlock and Ted.
"Maybe I could sit at the table before they get here?"
"You should see me without it," he answers just as playfully.
He glances over at the wheelchair too, getting what she's talking about. "Oh yeah. I figure we'll just order a bunch of take-out, so we can probably just sit on the couch. Comfier." Otherwise they'd have to move from the dining table to the couch at some point, which would be the same problem.
Ted scoffs playfully, letting himself be pulled in. "No, that's obviously Sherlock. Have you seen the man?" he teases, and kisses her. "You're the brawn, of course."
"Oh, I gotta see that sometime," he answers, suddenly having yet another reason to look forward to Joan being fully recovered.
He sits down next to her, since if they're going to be going on like this, it's difficult to keep standing. "No but clearly, you're both the brains and looks, I'm the brawn, or at least the jock. And then Sherlock is all three, and that's why he has no room for tact."
"Remind me to ask Sherlock if there are any local boxing gyms," she says with a smile. What better way to celebrate being fully recovered than to go punch some people?
Joan laughs at that last bit. "First, I can hold my own in a fight. Second, you are also extremely good looking and have incredible insight and intellectual curiosity. As for Sherlock..." She grins. "You are absolutely right."
Ted laughs at the bit about Sherlock, glad they're in agreement. "Well, it's a good thing you think I've got brains and looks too, cause I'm not even that brawny," he answers with a chuckle.
He considers himself to be about average appearance-wise, making up for some of it with charm. But by now he does believe her that she finds him very handsome, and not just saying that, and really, hers is the only opinion that matters.
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theodorelasso) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trashchildren2021-06-24 07:33 pm
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She sees him rubbing his chest, and wonders if he's feeling a tightness there, and if that's a precursor to his panic attacks.
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"It helps waking up next to you though," he adds, his smile coming a bit easier as he leans over to give her a kiss.
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"Did the braids get messed up while I was sleeping?"
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The front door to the apartment opens and closes, and Sherlock comes into the room carrying clothes. He sets them on the bad, then backs up. "I will leave you to it," he says with an open-palmed gesture toward the clothes, and turns around to exit the room again.
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He's about to head to the other side of the bed, then pauses and grabs at least one crutch, even if he's just going over there. He's trying to be good about it.
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She sees Ted remember the crutch and her smile widens. Everything is going to be fine. They're both going to be fine.
Joan starts taking off her shirt. It's a bit of a struggle, but she does finally manage to pull it off.
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He sets the tights aside and then picks up the clothes to help her on with that. "So I'm more than happy to help you with clothes and braid your hair, but just as a warning, if you ask me to do your makeup then things are gonna take a turn for the worse," he says with a chuckle.
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Joan is actually able to do a lot more than merely make it easier for Ted to dress her. She's not quite at the point where she can totally dress herself, but she's definitely getting there. She chuckles at Ted's words. "I'm probably going to just go without makeup. I don't tend to wear a lot anyway."
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"I can't say the mustache is not doing it for me," she says playfully.
Joan looks over at the wheelchair. She knows she won't be able to make it to the dining room under her own power, but she's not crazy about just being wheeled around everywhere in front of people other than Sherlock and Ted.
"Maybe I could sit at the table before they get here?"
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He glances over at the wheelchair too, getting what she's talking about. "Oh yeah. I figure we'll just order a bunch of take-out, so we can probably just sit on the couch. Comfier." Otherwise they'd have to move from the dining table to the couch at some point, which would be the same problem.
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He sits down next to her, since if they're going to be going on like this, it's difficult to keep standing. "No but clearly, you're both the brains and looks, I'm the brawn, or at least the jock. And then Sherlock is all three, and that's why he has no room for tact."
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Joan laughs at that last bit. "First, I can hold my own in a fight. Second, you are also extremely good looking and have incredible insight and intellectual curiosity. As for Sherlock..." She grins. "You are absolutely right."
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He considers himself to be about average appearance-wise, making up for some of it with charm. But by now he does believe her that she finds him very handsome, and not just saying that, and really, hers is the only opinion that matters.
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She reaches out and takes his face in her hands, then leans in for another kiss, this one a little slower and more gentle.
"You're incredible," she says when their lips part, giving him a loving smile.
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