trashchildren | For Joan

It's very difficult to say no to Ted when he gets excited. Lucky for her, he has absolutely no demands beyond trying to move to the music and not standing still. He pulls her along happily, taking the lead and encouraging her - he saw her at karaoke, he knows she's got it in her! He pulls her into a waltz hold, and it's messy and silly, but it's fun.

She's a little stiff at first, this not being her sort of thing, generally speaking. She had danced and strutted on stage to Material Girl, but that was a performance, and this...this is just sheer, exhilarating, silly JOY, and she's not used to that.

But she loosens up as he encourages her, and by the time he sweeps her into a waltz hold she's laughing again, moving with him, dancing with him, letting go and being joyous with him.

The song ends, and Ted is still holding her, breathless and happy. And then 'Wichita Skyline' starts up, a much more mellow and even romantic song, and Ted smiles down at Joan, still moving gently with the music, and gives her a kiss.

"It might have been a mistake to do this right after eating," he comments with a chuckle after they pull back again, but he's clearly not regretting it, still holding her close.

She's breathless and happy, too, still laughing when the first song ends. Her laugh quiets as the next song starts, slower and sweeter, and she smiles up at him, swaying with him, and closes her eyes as he kisses her.

"No," she says, her voice and her smile both soft. "This is perfect."

She presses gently closer, dancing with him, her eyes on his, feeling warm and fluttery inside.

Ted's smile widens, and his heart is so full. He feels like he could stay in this moment forever.

"Yeah, it is," he agrees softly, looking at her with such fondness, just thinking about all the things he loves about her. He could probably list them for hours, but for now he just enjoys a moment of quiet connection.

Joan loves so many things about him, things she could easily list as well as things that would be more difficult to express in words, those small, quiet things that are by their very nature indescribable. The synthesis of all of those things, simple and ineffable, are three words that are right on the tip of her tongue as she gazes up at him, swaying from side to side. Words she wants so badly to say. And for a moment she feels like she's going to say them. That this is it, the magical moment.

Then the song is over, and the spell is broken.

She smiles and kisses him as a more upbeat song starts to play, and pulls away to sit back down.

Ted feels it too, and even if she doesn't say it, it's almost like he hears it. He knows it in his heart.

And then the moment ends, and as a louder song starts playing, there's a thump from the floor above, and Ted looks up. "Sorry, Ms Shipley," he yells up, and then looks at Joan with a 'busted!' expression as he turns off the music and goes to sit down next to her again.

Joan echoes that expression with a playful cringe.

"Apartment living," she sighs as she snuggles against him again, head resting on his shoulder. "Or...flat living, I guess."

"Yeah, I never got that. Is it cause it's just on one floor?" he guesses, sinking into the couch and leaning his head against hers. "Seems like a weird word to use anyway."

"That would make sense." She sighs, so comfortable here, leaning against each other. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, like this, out of all the world, is where she's supposed to be.

"I've been to London probably a dozen times now, and I still don't get all the differences in terminology. Which can be challenging as a detective. I guess I know what Sherlock feels like being an Englishman in New York."

Ted has much the same challenge, but it's probably not as big deal in his line of work. And he's been absolutely terrible at adjusting to some changes, even after learning them. He'll probably never remember to call it 'training'.

"Like a legal alien?" Ted asks with a smile, referencing the song.

"Exactly," Joan says, smiling at the reference. "Be yourself, no matter what they say."

And didn't Ted embody that to a T.

"How did you get into coaching? Like, at first, when you were coaching American football?"

"Well, I always loved sports. Used to go to a sports bar with my father every Sunday, for years. Played too - basketball, not football, and I never made it that far," he answers, picking up his wine again and taking a sip. "I just love the feeling of community, you know? And helping people be their best. So I got a bachelor in sports science, and I worked my way up."

He gives a shrug. "That's about it. What about you, how'd you become... You were a surgeon first, right?"

"Yes. I specialized in trauma, but I handled less urgent cases, too. I was always a high achiever. Valedictorian in high school, and undergrad, and med school. Part of choosing surgery was wanting to take on the most challenging thing possible." She smiles, a little sadly. "Then there was wanting to be able to fix people. In an incredibly literal way. And..." She held up a finger. "Last but not least, I did it to please my mother."

Ted raises his eyebrows at the education bit, and nods in understanding at the wanting to fix people. That's sort of what he does too, just in a much vaguer sense. And then he lets out a laugh at the last bit.

"Wow, three time valedictorian, huh?" he says, impressed. "I barely graduated high school, and I almost dropped out of college twice." He doesn't feel any real shame in that (maybe some self-consciousness), but it just amazes him that the two of them can be so different in certain ways, and yet get along so well.

"But you finished high school," she points out. "And college, even though it was hard. That's what's important in the end. Nobody cares about grades once you're out of school. Like they say, after graduation, the top of the class and the bottom of the class in med school? Both are called 'doctor.' You're so good at what you do. And you change lives."

Ted smiles at her sweetness. "Oh don't worry, I don't mind that stuff. School just isn't for me, and that's alright." It's the same way he feels about winning - it doesn't really matter to him. But he's glad to hear it doesn't matter that much to Joan either, at least not when dealing with other people. "I'm just impressed by you."

"Ah, I see. Thank you." She just wanted to make it clear that grades and school aren't everything. Sometimes people have a tendency to treat her differently when they find out about her academic achievements, and she didn't want that to happen here. She sees now she shouldn't have worried.

Even if it isn't reassurance he needs, he still appreciates that she wanted to give it. She clearly doesn't feel superior about it, she just wanted to challenge herself. That's definitely something Ted can appreciate.

"So how come you stopped being a surgeon?" he asks, somewhat softly. He imagines going to school for something for so long and then giving it up was probably a hard choice, regardless of the reason.

She knew the question was coming, of course. Knew for the several days they were apart that this would come up when they got back together and had their heart to heart. And yet when he finally asks, the words stick in her throat. She looks away, having to take a moment just to get it out.

"I killed a patient," she answers finally, her eyes still averted. "The man who died...he was nice. I met him, met his family. He and I would talk about his hopes for his son." She shakes her head slightly. "During the surgery, I nicked his inferior vena cava...that's the large blood vessel that carries deoxygenated blood from the body to the heart. I don't know how it happened. But he lost his entire blood volume into his body cavity in seconds."

Ted was already aware it might be a sore subject, but when she has such problem even saying it, and then admits to killing a patient, his heart breaks for her. He can't even imagine.

"I'm sorry, that must have been awful," he says quietly. He gives her a one-armed hug, and takes her hand with his other hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He doesn't say anything else - what can you say? Just sits with her for a moment. Wishing he could do something to help her with that pain.

She doesn't tell a lot of people this story. Her own sense of guilt has eased over the years, in no small part due to Sherlock pointing out the simple truth that Joan had been unable to accept...that it was an accident. But it's still painful. She also worries about what people will think of her when she tells them, and Ted's kindness is a relief. She turns towards him and lays her head on his shoulder again.

"I was sued for malpractice. There was a trial, where my actions were dissected in minute detail and the wife testified that I was a terrible doctor and a worse person and I had stolen a husband and father from his family. In the end my malpractice insurance paid the settlement and my license was suspended. It was only for three months, but I couldn't even imagine picking up a scalpel ever again. So I let my license lapse."

Ted nods in understanding. He can't imagine going back either. It's a tremendous responsibility, and something like that would not only ruin your confidence, it would probably take the joy out of it too.

He sits there in silence for a moment, just holding her.

"I don't imagine there's anything I could say that would make you feel better about that," he says quietly. "But thanks for telling me anyway." He appreciates that she trusts him with it, that she's willing to share this pain with him.

"Thank you for listening," she responds softly. "And for being so kind."

She didn't expect any less from Ted, the kindest person she knows and someone who clearly cares for her deeply. She still appreciates it, though.

"On the plus side," she says, trying to move on a little from the topic, "my medical knowledge is extremely useful as a detective."

Ted smiles softly. "I bet. And then in between there, you were a sober companion, right?" he asks. He doesn't necessarily know what that entails, but he can sort of guess based on the name.

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