trashchildren | For Joan

Ted nods in agreement. They've had a streak of very very bad luck lately, and it's only natural they feel a bit overprotective of each other.

"You wanna get comfortable in the living room?" he suggests. The kitchen is fine for eating, but the chairs aren't the most comfortable in the long run. And more importantly, he'd like to cuddle up a little bit before he leaves.

Joan gets it. In other situations she might chafe against that protectiveness, stubbornly independent and intent on avoiding being vulnerable. But with everything that has happened, and with these two men, she feels so loved and cared for, and she loves them both in return.

"That sounds great," she says with a smile. It will definitely be more comfortable, and she'll take all the cuddling she can get before they go.

It probably helps that in letting Ted 'protect' her, she's protecting and reassuring him in return. It's for his own sake as well that he wants to be with her, and make sure she's alright.

"Alright then," he says, getting to his feet. "Well, after all that french toast, want to get the chair?" he asks. It's not that far to walk, but he knows she errs on the side of the ambitious, so he wants to balance it out a little and make sure she doesn't overextend herself.

They both have so much healing to do. Caring for and allowing themselves to be cared for by each other are two sides of the same coin, both profound expressions of love.

Joan is going to keep pushing herself right now, though. "It's not far." She smiles. "And now I have more energy because of all that french toast."

Sherlock rises as well to help Watson, although he hangs back a little to see how Ted responds.

Ted has no intention of stopping her if that is what she wants to do, as long as she considers it when he recommends caution. She knows her limits better than he does, and trying to stop her from challenging herself isn't going to help. Sometimes all you can do is try to be there when someone falls. Literally in this case. Though hopefully it won't come to that.

Sherlock appreciates how much Ted respects Watson, letting her make her own choices even if he might not particularly agree with them. Sherlock has run afoul with Joan's fierce independence in the past, and has learned, becoming better with Watson and even a better person in general. But Ted is already such a good person. Admirable, really.

He offers his hands to Watson, and she takes them and stands. It takes a moment for her to steady herself, but after she's sure on her feet the walk to the living room is pretty uneventful. She sits on the couch with a sigh and leans back into the cushions, enjoying the comfort.

Ted follows along after, and smiles softly when she makes it to the couch just fine. It's so good to see, and it does make him less worried about leaving her without them. And of course there's few people he trusts more than Beard to be reliable.

He sets down his crutches and sits down next to her, leaning back as well. He misses his team, but he'll also miss these lazy comfortable mornings together.

She's going to miss this, too. Plenty of people would get sick of their partner if cooped up together for as long as they have been, but not Joan. She still enjoys this closeness, and will miss it when they move on to a more "normal" schedule.

She leans against him, putting her head on his shoulder, and takes his hand, threading their fingers together.

He's sure eventually they would get on each other's nerves a little bit - or at least they would have to start adapting to avoid getting on each other's nerves. That's only natural. But right now, it's a safe haven from everything else going on.

He leans his head against hers as well, sitting there and quietly enjoying the closeness. And wondering about what will meet him at the morgue. He doesn't even know specifically how Turner died. He's not sure he wants to know, nor does he want to see him. He doesn't exactly enjoy being around dead bodies.

After a while he lifts his head again. "Oh, did you want to shower before Beard gets here, or leave it for later?" he asks, remembering she'd requested that.

Sherlock is a little concerned about how Ted will react to the experience at the morgue. The man is soft-hearted and not hardened like him and Joan are. He's resolved to protecting him as much as he can.

"I forgot about that," Joan says, lifting her head as well. "I think having a shower now would be good. Better to receive visitors when I'm not so grimy."

Ted may be soft-hearted, but at least he's still fairly resilient. Things might hurt, but that doesn't mean they'll break him.

"You're not grimy," Ted answers with amusement. "But sure, let's go. Chair this time?"

"Okay," she concedes with a sigh and a smile. "I'll take the chair this time."

Not that she needs it. She'll just do it to make him happy. That's her story and she's sticking to it.

He can live with that just fine. He's sure she'd get there well enough, but what's the point of exhausting herself at the start of the day?

"Sherlock?" he requests, to get him to fetch the chair. This time when Ted gets to his feet, he's the one offering Joan his hands to help her into the chair.

Sherlock goes to get the chair. When Ted helps Joan to her feet, she slides her arms around him and kisses him, body pressed gently against his, taking advantage of a moment with Sherlock out of the room.

He doesn't expect it and that just makes it more wonderful. He puts a hand on her cheek, looking down at her with so much love in his eyes. She just makes everything in his life better.

Then of course Sherlock comes back, and Ted helps her sit down, and then wheels them both off to the bathroom.

She cups his cheek as well, gazing up at him, so much in love. She is so profoundly grateful to have this man in her life.

"I love you," she murmurs.

Then Sherlock is back with the chair, and Ted helps her sit and wheels them off to the bathroom. Once they're inside, she carefully pulls off her shirt and sets it aside.

Ted undresses as well, including the finagling process of taking off his t-shirt without hurting his ribs, getting his pants over his cast, and then putting protective plastic over the cast. This all takes a lot more time when they're both having trouble dealing with clothes. But at least Joan can take off some of her clothes on her own now, so she doesn't have to just sit there and wait the entire time.

"You know, I really enjoy showers, especially with you, but the process of getting to it is pretty darn arduous right now," he comments, though he smiles cheerfully despite it.

She hums in agreement as she carefully wriggles out of her bottoms, then out of her underwear. "It will definitely be nice when this isn't so hard," she agrees, then smiles up at him, eyes sparkling. "I much prefer being able to get naked quickly so we can get on to the good stuff," she says playfully, referring to the shower but leaning into the double entendre.

"Uh-huh, I bet you do," he answers with amusement, enjoying the double entendre now they're alone. Of course, you can make the undressing portion very enjoyable (and sexy) as well, but this is not really that.

He makes sure all their clothes are put aside and they're ready to go in, before he goes to help Joan to her feet, to go sit down on the stool they've got there.

It's so nice to be able to be cute and flirty with each other without having to worry about bothering Sherlock. The three of them have gotten very close during this ordeal, and Joan is grateful for that, but it's still really nice to be alone with Ted every once in a while, to reconnect on this level.

Joan is careful as Ted helps her out of the chair and onto the stool. She's going to be happy when the stool isn't necessary as well, but for the moment she likes being able to lean back against Ted, her head resting on his belly, feeling warmed and supported.

Honestly, when it comes to sexual innuendo, he wouldn't do it in front of Sherlock even if he was completely fine with it. Being overly affectionate, sure, but the sexy bits they can keep private regardless.

He points the shower away from them and turns it on, making sure it's nice and warmed up before he turns it back towards them. He grabs the shampoo, but before he starts washing her hair, he leans down to kiss her cheek. He loves being all gentle and intimate with her like this. Sexual innuendo or no.

Joan sighs happily at the kiss, and reaches up to touch his cheek as she turns her head to gently brush her lips against his. She loves this as well, this tender, quiet intimacy. This life that they are building together hums with it, with this gentleness and love that underlies every interaction, from something as simple as brushing their teeth together all the way up to their sex life. It's beautiful, and Joan feels so lucky.

It's amazing that they can be in this situation where they're both physically and emotionally beat up, and yet they can still feel so lucky in just sharing this tenderness together.

He smiles against her lips. "Love you," he murmurs, barely audible over the shower, then kisses her.

And then he has to straighten up to focus on washing her hair and all that, otherwise he thinks they'll get very distracted very quickly. Well, he will, at least.

It's a testament to how right they are for each other. Hard times are hard, but even within those times they can find such joy together.

"Love you," she murmurs back as their lips part.

It's probably a good thing that he moves on to the practical things they have to get done, because Joan's breath is already a little heavy and her cheeks already a little flushed. It would be so easy to get distracted with wanting to lean into the physical affection. Instead she leans back against him and closes her eyes as he washes her hair, enjoying the sensation.

At least it's easy enough to blame the breathing on the effort of getting undressed and moving around, and the flushed cheeks on the heat from the shower.

"You know, if my coaching career falls through, I could become a hairdresser," he comments playfully as he massages the shampoo into her scalp. "Not actually cutting hair, just someone who washes it. Maybe styles it, assuming people mostly want braids."

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