trashchildren | For Joan

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Ted answers, chipper and playful. "See, you Brits already have that cold and unfeeling thing down pat, but we need ice to balance out our natural warmth, and the sugar is how we get so sweet." And part of the fun is that they're both displaying these exact attitudes.

Joan laughs quietly, while Sherlock scowls and takes another drink of water. Ted won this one.

Joan gently and affectionately bumps her shoulder against Ted's.

Ted grins and waggles his eyebrows at Joan. Hey, he has to win sometimes. He may not be as smart as Sherlock, but he's pretty well versed in banter. He's had a lot of practice.

He finishes off his sandwich, curling up the wrapping and tossing it into the basket as if making a basketball shot. "Woo, 3 points."

Joan smiles at that, remembering that he played basketball. She wonders idly how much Ted knew about American football when he started coaching. Probably more than soccer, considering a sports fan in the USA can hardly avoid it, but still.

Joan finishes her own sandwich, crumples her wrapper, looks at the can...then puts her wrapper down. "Yeah, no," she says with a smile.

Instead she carefully lies down, putting her head on Ted's lap, and smiles up at him.

Ted smiles happily down at her, stroking her hair for a second. He'd lean down and kiss her, but he doesn't really bend that way anymore.

He picks up her crumpled wrapper and makes another shot - but this one bounces off the edge of the basket and bounces onto Sherlock instead. "Oops. Sorry, bud."

Joan reaches up to stroke his arm a little as he's stroking her hair, reciprocating the affectionate touch. Lying here with him in the sun and the fresh air and with a comfortably full stomach is absolutely wonderful, and Joan feels happy and calm and content.

Then Ted accidentally hits Sherlock with her sandwich wrapper and she can't help an amused wince.

Sherlock takes it and tosses it into the can, then his own, then his empty water bottle. Nothing but net. He's got skills.

Ted gives a low whistle. "I'm definitely picking you for my team for my next basketball pickup game," he says with a chuckle. Disregarding, of course, his broken leg, the fact he hasn't played basketball even casually in ages, and that Sherlock probably would not be that interested in participating.

He reaches down and lifts Joan's head carefully, so that he can scoot over and lie down as well, breathing a deep content sigh.

"You should see him with a knife," Joan remarks, glancing at Sherlock with a faint smile, remembering a particular instance when he threw a tennis ball and hit her square between her shoulder blades.

When Ted lies down Joan reaches for his hand, threading her fingers through his. Sherlock lies down too, once again staring up at the blue sky, enjoying the sun and the air as much as Ted and Watson.

Ted idly strokes Joan's hand with his thumb. This break feels so important and revitalising, probably for all of them. He's so glad these two people are in his life.

He picks up a strawberry and eats one. Then he picks up another and offers to feed it to Joan. "I didn't buy grapes, sorry," he quips. Like they should have people fanning them with palm leaves.

Joan happily eats the strawberry she's offered, laughing softly as some of the juice spills over her lips. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "I think we can make do," she says, her eyes sparkling.

She glances over at Sherlock, who is probably as relaxed as Joan has ever seen him, and can't help but smile. She's so glad Ted is in her life, but she's also glad he's in Sherlock's life, too. She's experienced how knowing Ted has changed her life for the better, how his love and acceptance and optimism allowed her own care and kindness to emerge. And she can see it happening in Sherlock as well. It's so unusual for Sherlock to care about someone, to feel comfortable around someone, and to be content like this. Ted's acceptance and optimism has changed his life, too. She can tell there's also mutual love there of some sort, whether or not it's romantic from either side. She and Sherlock love each other deeply after all, and romanticism doesn't enter into it.

Ted definitely cares for Sherlock greatly. A month ago that probably wouldn't have been true, but then he fell in love with Joan real quickly too, so it makes sense. Seeing his care and patience and kindness in the past few weeks has really solidified his affection for the man.

It's not romantic though, although it maybe could've had the potential to be. But Sherlock's been fairly strongly labelled 'off-limits' in his brain, for a variety of reasons, so he wouldn't even think to go there.

It's not like with Shaun, who's also very obviously off-limits, but he knows is only going to be in his life for a short time. And who seemed to like him back. That could just be a harmless flirt that didn't need to go anywhere. Ted wasn't even really thinking about it though - it's only after Sherlock had pointed it out that Ted had started to analyze what was going on there.

Ted's not thinking about that now, though. He's making an effort not to think about Rupert either. Only non-stressful good vibes and thoughts are allowed into his brain right now. Just lying there enjoying the sun and the quiet company.

Joan moves a little closer to Ted, so their shoulders are touching. Being out here, in the sun, among the trees, together with the two men she loves, is very relaxing. They've dealt with a lot of darkness lately, but out here all that hardly even crosses her mind.

She sighs happily and turns her head to smile at Ted.

Ted looks over as she turns her head, and returns the smile. He lifts Joan's hand so he can kiss it, then mouths 'love you'. It's calm and peaceful and lovely, and he's so grateful.

And then a soccer ball bounces right through their picnic.

It doesn't manage to break anything (or anyone), but as Ted sits up in surprise, he sees the ball nestled in their picnic basket, and the small group of kids nearby looking like they're afraid they're gonna get in trouble (with one or two of them nervously giggling).

A kid yells an apology, and Ted gets to his feet, grabbing the ball. "Hey, that's alright, no harm done," Ted calls back cheerfully, picking up a crutch so he can walk a bit over to them (and away from the picnic). "Hey, you kids know how to do headers?"

Joan smiles fondly and draws his hand to her lips and kisses it, then mouths "love you" in return.

The ball startles her and she pushes herself up to sitting by the time the kids come over. She notes that Sherlock has gotten up too, scowling at the kids. But Ted grabs the ball and walks over to them, and Joan can't help but smile, her heart warmed by his instinct to engage.

The kids are still giggling amongst themselves, but they nod at his question, uncertain what he means by it but clearly curious.

"Yeah? It's when you kick the ball with your head, like this," Ted says, dropping his crutch on the ground, so he can throw the ball gently in the air, bounce it on his head, and catch it again.

"You don't kick with your head, you only kick with your feet," one kid pipes up.

"Well, you got me there," Ted answers with a chuckle. "Still, you bounce it on your head like that, right? You guys wanna try?" They all nod enthusiastically. "Alright, line up," he says, and starts gently tossing the ball to them.

There's definitely a varied amount of success, but Ted is encouraging and enthusiastic no matter how well they do. He's mostly putting his weight on one leg, using his broken one mostly for balance, so he can't actually move around much, which means their somewhat poor aim means he can only sometimes actually catch the ball when they bounce it back to him.

This doesn't actually seem to be much of a problem, as the kids are really excited to run over and fetch the ball and hand it to him, so it just becomes another aspect of them having together.

Joan is absolutely beaming as she watches Ted play with the kids. He's so sweet and kind, and obviously enjoys playing with them and making them happy. She can just imagine what he's like when he plays with Henry. And then she imagines what it would be like to watch him play with kids they have together. All of that makes her love him deeply, fiercely.

Sherlock looks over at Watson, watching her watch Ted, and he can imagine what's going through her head. He's aware of Watson's desire to be a mother, and while it's not an impulse he comes about naturally, Sherlock has come to the conclusion that if Watson were to have a child, he would be a part of said child's life. He can easily imagine Watson and Ted having a child...and just as easily imagine being party to that joy, just as he's become party to the joy of their relationship. It's a strangely pleasant thought.

They keep playing for a while, until someone who he assumes is the mom of one of the kids comes over to tell them they're leaving. Ted introduces himself and shakes her hand, chatting for a bit so she's not too worried about the kids playing with a strange man.

Then they leave, and Ted heads back over to Joan and Sherlock to sit down. Tired from standing around mostly on one leg, but also glowing with happiness after the interaction.

She beams at him as he sits down.

"That looked like fun," she says. "Have you done that sort of thing with kids before?"

"Oh yeah. Even coached a kids basketball team for a little bit. And we do school visits at Richmond primary with the club sometimes," he says, grabbing a drink. "Did you know Roy is really lovely with kids?"

"Really?" she laughs at the statement about Roy. "Wow. I would not expect that. He's a great guy and everything, but I definitely wouldn't think Mr. Angry Eyebrows himself would be good with kids." She looks over at her partner with a smile. "Sherlock is surprisingly good with kids."

He looks at her with a scowl. "I don't know how you've come to that conclusion, Watson."

"You're amazing with Archie," she points out. "And I've seen you relate to older kids in our investigations."

Ted smiles warmly, not actually surprised. Sherlock's a kind man, and even if it doesn't come naturally, just treating kids as people (who require a little bit more patience and understanding) usually goes a long way.

"Who's Archie?" he asks curiously.

Sherlock is about to counter Watson's assertions when Ted asks about Archie.

"He's the son of my protegee Kitty," he tells him. "Watson and I are his godparents."

"He's adorable," Joan tells Ted. "You'll have to meet him and Kitty someday."

Sherlock considers reminding Watson of the fact that Kitty is cagey around strange men, but decides not to. Ted is not like other men, and Sherlock could see Kitty feeling comfortable with him, even if she might be overcome by the man's enthusiasm at first.

"Oh, I'd love to meet her," Ted answers with a happy smile. He didn't know they were godparents, that's so lovely. "Does she live here, or back in New York, or...?"

"She lives in England primarily," Joan says. "But she works with an anti-human trafficking organization, so she spends a fair amount of time abroad. I think she's in..." Joan frowns and looks at Sherlock.

"Argentina," Sherlock supplies.

"Right," Joan says.

Ted raises his eyebrows and nods, both impressed and approving. "That's a real good thing to be doing," he answers. "But you said she was your protegee, so is she like, being a detective for it?"

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