If she's staying over, there's a decent chance it will go somewhere eventually. But for now it's just a lovely way to deal with and express all these feelings.
He does eventually pull back, although he remains all snuggled up with her. He gives a deep, happy sigh of contentment.
"...So what were we talking about?" he asks jokingly.
"Hmmm," Ted answers, thinking back to how far they'd gotten. "So you met Sherlock while you were a sober companion?"
He's sort of made the assumption, given Sherlock avoids alcohol, that she was his sober companion. But he's not going to put her in the position of either having to lie, or share that potentially private information.
"Ah," she says playfully, "that's where we were. Yes, I did. I should probably let you know a couple things. First, you've probably figured out Sherlock was my client at the time. He released me from my duty of confidentiality a while ago so I could talk to people about how I became a detective. That said, it would be good to keep this between us."
Ted nods. "Yeah, I guessed, but I figured I shouldn't ask," he answers. He doesn't mind keeping it private. "So, you got tired of being the Angus and wanted to take part yourself?" he asks, only half joking.
"Not exactly," she says with a smile. "I was never the Angus. Pretty much from the beginning I was helping with his cases. Part of the job of a sober companion is to be with the client at all times, including going to work with them. " She laughs a little and shakes her head. "Sherlock really hated me at first."
"Pretty much," she says with a slight smile. "He tried his hardest to push me away at first. Saying inappropriate things, coming up with a long list of ways to refer to me in public. That first day he deduced I used to be a surgeon. And then that the reason I wasn't anymore was because I had killed a patient." She gives a small shrug. "When I say people don't like being deduced, it comes from personal experience of being on both sides of the equation. But as much as he tried to push me away, he also recognized that I saw things the way he did. Could make the sort of connections he could."
Ted smiles, and he feels like he's getting a clearer picture of Sherlock. He can imagine it would be rocky at times. Being a recovering addict, especially one with a brain like that, must make it hard to let people in. He's glad she's stuck with it, since it's clearly been to the benefit of them both.
"Well, I'm glad he has you. And likewise, that you have him," he says. He knows Joan cares about Ted, and that he can provide many things, but he doubts he could provide that kind of intellectual stimulation that her job and her friendship with Sherlock does. So it doesn't make him jealous at all, just glad she has that in her life.
He's amazing. Plenty of men would feel threatened by her very close relationship with Sherlock. The fact that Ted doesn't really speaks to his self-confidence, and his selflessness.
"You and Beard have a close relationship," she points out. "I feel like it's similar."
He nods thoughtfully, considering it. "Yeah. Except we do football instead of crime-solving," he says with a chuckle. "Actually yeah, we absolutely did get on each other's nerves in the beginning."
It shouldn't be that difficult to imagine, what with their wildly different energies.
"Huh," she says, frowning, trying to picture what it must have been like for Ted and Beard to butt heads. "I can't see it," she says finally. "You complement each other so perfectly. I'd guess that both of you are great coaches on your own, but together you're definitely greater than the sum of your parts."
"Really?" Ted asks, amused. "Me bouncing around, trying to get him engaged and being frustrated when he refused to? Him probably thinking I was a complete airhead?"
Sure, eventually they learned to balance each other out. But it took a little while before they got into their groove. "Anyway, I still get on his nerves sometimes. I mean, he's pretty low-key, but the man can yell when he wants to."
She laughs at that mental image. "Okay, I can see it now," she says, amused. "And I can believe it. Any man who sings Bad Romance like that definitely had an innate ability to yell when necessary."
"Right?" Ted agrees, laughing too. "And I'm still a bit of an airhead, so you know," he adds, chuckling. "But yeah, like you said, that's why we complement each other. He's super smart, but he's not as comfortable when it comes to connecting and motivating. So he relies on me to engage our team, and I rely on him - and Nate - for strategy and know-how."
"It's a great system," she says. "I love how you're so good at identifying people's strengths and how they fit in." She smiles. "And I know what it's like to be the people person in a partnership."
Ted smiles warmly at the compliment. He's not new to getting support and appreciation from his loved ones, but Joan's observational nature combined with her openness makes her really good at saying stuff that makes him both feel nice and seen. Because yeah, that's exactly the thing he's proud of. Figuring out how people tick, and helping them be their best.
"Oh yeah, I bet," he answers at the second part. Ted's spent all of a minute or something with Sherlock, and he definitely didn't strike him as the people person.
That would be an understatement. Sherlock has gotten a lot better over the years they've been working together, but he still tends harsh, and Joan sometimes takes point to compensate when a suspect or witness needs a gentler touch.
She's quiet for the moment, not knowing what to say and not really feeling the need to say anything. She feels completely comfortable just being quiet with him.
Ted smiles softly and gives her forehead a kiss, then rests his head against hers comfortably.
"Anything more you want to know?" he asks after a bit.
He knows there's stuff they should talk about eventually. Like what they're gonna do when she inevitably goes back to New York. And, now that they're having sex, probably some stuff related to that. But the former definitely doesn't seem urgent (and not necessarily something he wants to think about yet), and the latter he thinks he needs to drink a tiny bit more to be relaxed enough to discuss.
Those issues are definitely on Joan's mind, too, but she would agree that this isn't the time to think about being apart. And wouldn't object to a little more alcohol before talking about sex.
"I dunno what to say about mine that I haven't already said," he says, leaning forward to refill their wine glasses, which have gotten pretty empty even as they've been sipping it slowly. "What about you?"
She picks up her newly filled glass and settles back again, staring at the glass for a moment as she collects her thoughts.
"When I told you about my father," she says finally, "I didn't mention he's technically my stepfather." She smiles faintly. "Not a lot of ethnically Chinese people with a last name like Watson. He married my mother when I was very young, and adopted Oren and me."
"Oh yeah?" he prompts gently, interested to hear more, without actually asking specific questions in case there's stuff she doesn't want to talk about. Obviously what happened to her biological father is an implied question, but she can avoid it if she wants to.
She recognizes that he's leaving the door open for her to talk about her biological father without pressuring her to do so, and she loves him for it. She decides she's going to talk about it, in the interest of laying all the central difficult truths of her life on the table.
"Yeah." She takes a sip of wine. "My biological father was schizophrenic. It started manifesting when my mom was pregnant with me. She kicked him out."
She takes another drink, a longer one this time.
"I didn't know any of this until I was a teenager, when Oren told me. He's older and he got to know our dad before he left our lives. I looked him up and found out he was homeless. That's when I started volunteering at homeless shelters, hoping to see him. And I did, every once in a while. Sometimes he recognized me. Usually when he was on his meds. Other times..." She shakes her head.
Ted listens quietly, his arm still around her. He gives her a gentle squeeze as she trails off. No wonder she has that instinct to care for people.
It's also something that deeply saddens him, beyond a personal level, the fate of ill and homeless people people in America. Even in the best of conditions, living with mental illness or having mentally ill family is probably very difficult.
"And now?" he asks gently. Because she's very much talking about this in the past tense...
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He does eventually pull back, although he remains all snuggled up with her. He gives a deep, happy sigh of contentment.
"...So what were we talking about?" he asks jokingly.
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He's sort of made the assumption, given Sherlock avoids alcohol, that she was his sober companion. But he's not going to put her in the position of either having to lie, or share that potentially private information.
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"And then he saw what a genius you are and how much help you provided?" he asks, which is of course also a compliment.
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"Well, I'm glad he has you. And likewise, that you have him," he says. He knows Joan cares about Ted, and that he can provide many things, but he doubts he could provide that kind of intellectual stimulation that her job and her friendship with Sherlock does. So it doesn't make him jealous at all, just glad she has that in her life.
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"You and Beard have a close relationship," she points out. "I feel like it's similar."
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It shouldn't be that difficult to imagine, what with their wildly different energies.
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Sure, eventually they learned to balance each other out. But it took a little while before they got into their groove. "Anyway, I still get on his nerves sometimes. I mean, he's pretty low-key, but the man can yell when he wants to."
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"Oh yeah, I bet," he answers at the second part. Ted's spent all of a minute or something with Sherlock, and he definitely didn't strike him as the people person.
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She's quiet for the moment, not knowing what to say and not really feeling the need to say anything. She feels completely comfortable just being quiet with him.
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"Anything more you want to know?" he asks after a bit.
He knows there's stuff they should talk about eventually. Like what they're gonna do when she inevitably goes back to New York. And, now that they're having sex, probably some stuff related to that. But the former definitely doesn't seem urgent (and not necessarily something he wants to think about yet), and the latter he thinks he needs to drink a tiny bit more to be relaxed enough to discuss.
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"Do we want to talk about parents?"
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"When I told you about my father," she says finally, "I didn't mention he's technically my stepfather." She smiles faintly. "Not a lot of ethnically Chinese people with a last name like Watson. He married my mother when I was very young, and adopted Oren and me."
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"Yeah." She takes a sip of wine. "My biological father was schizophrenic. It started manifesting when my mom was pregnant with me. She kicked him out."
She takes another drink, a longer one this time.
"I didn't know any of this until I was a teenager, when Oren told me. He's older and he got to know our dad before he left our lives. I looked him up and found out he was homeless. That's when I started volunteering at homeless shelters, hoping to see him. And I did, every once in a while. Sometimes he recognized me. Usually when he was on his meds. Other times..." She shakes her head.
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It's also something that deeply saddens him, beyond a personal level, the fate of ill and homeless people people in America. Even in the best of conditions, living with mental illness or having mentally ill family is probably very difficult.
"And now?" he asks gently. Because she's very much talking about this in the past tense...
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