That kiss is so simple, so sweet, so loving, and stood in delicious contrast to the sheer torment of being held on the very cusp of climax, her body shuddering.
Then his fingers speed up, giving her that last bit of sensation she needs, and her body arches as she comes with a strangled cry, her hands gripping him tightly.
He watches her happily, almost breathless himself from the way she arches and tenses, tugging at him. He keeps massaging her through the orgasm as she tightens around his fingers, then slowing down and softening his touch as her body collapses, then finally pulling away once she's become so oversensitive that she twitches at his touch.
He wipes his hand on his shirt (it's already stained anyway), then runs it gently across her thigh, her side, her abdomen, just loving touches as she basks in the afterglow.
"I love you," he whispers, leaning down to kiss the side of her mouth softly.
He knows her so well, knows her body so well, that he doesn't even have to wait for her to push him away to know when to stop. And then he touches her so gently and tenderly as she catches her breath. It's beautiful, and Joan feels so incredibly loved, even before he says the words. When he does, she kisses him back, cupping his cheek, warm and relaxed and so happy.
"I love you," she whispers back when they're lips part.
She rolls over to nestle against him, wrapping an arm around his waist, just wanting to be as close as possible.
Ted carefully shifts, lying down on his back just slightly turned towards her, getting into a comfortable position where he's not in pain. It takes a little bit finagling, but soon he settles against her, giving her hair a kiss.
He's content to just lie here for a while, getting as much closeness as they can, while they can. Pretending nothing can hurt them, and that they can stay here forever.
She shifts as needed so that he's as comfortable as possible, mindful of his injuries, and sighs at that kiss to her hair, relaxing against him, wrapped in the glow of the pleasure they've given each other and the love they share. It's amazing, and Joan wants to remember every bit of it, the feeling of his arms around her, the sound of his breathing and his heart beating, even the smell of him. She smiles a little.
That question surprises him. Especially considering the shirt is, well, not very clean now. But he's guessing that's probably why she wants it. One of his clean shirts probably wouldn't be quite as effective.
She knows she's going to miss him terribly. They'll be able to talk a little, when they're both home alone with the blinds drawn, but she will miss this, being in his arms, being touched by him, kissed by him. Maybe it will help, just a little, if she can smell him. Smell is the sense most closely tied with memory, and she wants to remember as clearly as she can, until they're back together again and she doesn't have to rely on a memory anymore.
"We'll have to figure out when to call each other," she murmurs.
"What, like code-names?" he asks curiously, maybe with a hint of amusement. He's not used to all this subterfuge, most of his familiarity with it comes from spy movies, not actually doing it. He doesn't know what would actually be effective and important, and what's just flashy fiction stuff.
She smiles and chuckles. "Not what, when. We'll have to both be alone, so it might be good to agree on a time now." Her smile remains but her expression becomes a touch more serious. "Have the doctors talked to you about when you're going home?"
"Oh, right," he answers, frowning as he considers. "Yeah, I mean, they've mostly just been keeping me under observation in case there's complications, but they suggested going home when I can walk a bit better. The knee injuries aren't actually that bad, just fluid, so, a day or two now."
He's very aware that it will take weeks, up to a few months before he's fully healed from everything. But at least he won't be stuck in this room forever.
"Shame, I was really enjoying the idea of coming up with cool aliases for each other.." he adds, mostly joking.
A day or two. It probably isn't a good idea for Ted to use the burner phone in the hospital, where there's minimal privacy and no safe place to hide it. Which means that they won't be able to talk for a day or two. She's doing her best to be reasonable, that one or two days is not that long, that she'll be traveling for some of that, that there's going to be plenty to do when she gets back to New York to follow any American connections to Moriarty's jewel thief cabal.
But it still feels like forever.
"We can still come up with aliases," she says, smiling. "An extra level of security never hurt anyone. What do you think my alias should be?"
"That's a good question," he answers, staring up at the ceiling and trying to think of something. He's not actually that good at it. "Depends what kind, too. I mean, do you want a fake name, or a code name, like... Stalwart Healer," he suggests, saying it with dramatic flair.
It's overly dramatic, but Joan is still really touched by it. She lifts her head to kiss his cheek before settling back on his shoulder. "I like that," she says with a smile. "Might be a little too on the nose if we want to be covert, though." She grins. "Like I'm pretty sure calling you...what...Coach Barbecue would probably be figured out pretty quickly." She considers for a moment. "Do you know who Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz is?"
Ted gives a laugh at 'Coach Barbecue', and then a small pained grunt at his ribs complaining. Oof. Feels good to laugh, but also, well, kind of painful.
"No clue whatsoever," he answers immediately, but he looks at her curiously to hear more.
She loves how curious he is, how eager to learn new things and be open to new information.
"Leibniz was a German philosopher in the 17th century. He's most well known for his optimism. He believed that the world we live in is the best possible world." She smiles. "Makes me think of you."
Oh! Ted's face easily shows how touched he is by that. "Sounds like a cool and smart fella," he answers with a warm smile. "Leibniz. Alright. That's really clever. Do you have anything like that for yourself?" Because that was such a great reason for a name, he's sure she can think of something better than he can.
Ted considers thoughtfully, pursing his lips as he thinks through options.
"...I'm torn between Jane and Jessica," he answers after a moment. "And hey, both are J names, so that's convenient. Though Jane might be too close, actually."
"A bit close to Joan, yeah," she says with an amused smile. She considers for a moment, trying to figure out where the names come from. "I assume Jessica is Jessica Fletcher, right? And Jane...is that for Jane Seymour in Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman?"
He nods at the first part. Of course it's Jessica Fletcher. Awesome old lady. Not actually that similar to Joan, but a great character, and a sweet person.
"Ah, no, still a detective. Lotta people don't know Miss Marple's first name is Jane," he answers with a grin. There's a lot of stuff Ted doesn't know, but at least he's decently well-versed in the realms of fiction. And clearly he likes cool old ladies solving crimes.
"Ah, I did not know that!" It is also completely adorable and unsurprising that Ted knows that. She can see him being a fan of cozy mysteries. "I think I could get behind Jessica. Can't go wrong with Angela Lansbury, right?"
"Definitely," Ted agrees. "Have you seen her in Sweeney Todd? Oh! Amazing. Suddenly that sweet old red-head is baking people into pies while singing about it." Ted is also obviously a lover of musicals, especially older ones.
Then he quickly adds an addendum. "If that's a real crime you've solved at some point, don't tell me." He'd like pies to stay safe and non-creepy, please.
She laughs. "Yes, I've seen her in Sweeney Todd. No, I've never solved a crime involving people baked into pies. The closest thing was when there were a series of murders where the crime scenes smelled like cinnamon and nutmeg. This detective from a different precinct called them the work of the Pumpkin Killer."
"Fair enough," she says with a smile, although there's a touch of worry there, too. Her work is such an integral part of her life. It's why she and Sherlock live together, after all. It seems unlikely that Ted will never be exposed to the more unpleasant aspects of her work.
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Then his fingers speed up, giving her that last bit of sensation she needs, and her body arches as she comes with a strangled cry, her hands gripping him tightly.
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He wipes his hand on his shirt (it's already stained anyway), then runs it gently across her thigh, her side, her abdomen, just loving touches as she basks in the afterglow.
"I love you," he whispers, leaning down to kiss the side of her mouth softly.
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"I love you," she whispers back when they're lips part.
She rolls over to nestle against him, wrapping an arm around his waist, just wanting to be as close as possible.
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He's content to just lie here for a while, getting as much closeness as they can, while they can. Pretending nothing can hurt them, and that they can stay here forever.
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"Can I take your shirt with me?" she asks softly.
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"Sure, I guess," he answers with a smile.
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"We'll have to figure out when to call each other," she murmurs.
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He's very aware that it will take weeks, up to a few months before he's fully healed from everything. But at least he won't be stuck in this room forever.
"Shame, I was really enjoying the idea of coming up with cool aliases for each other.." he adds, mostly joking.
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But it still feels like forever.
"We can still come up with aliases," she says, smiling. "An extra level of security never hurt anyone. What do you think my alias should be?"
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"No clue whatsoever," he answers immediately, but he looks at her curiously to hear more.
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"Leibniz was a German philosopher in the 17th century. He's most well known for his optimism. He believed that the world we live in is the best possible world." She smiles. "Makes me think of you."
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She could probably come up with something, but she wants Ted to give her her name, if at all possible.
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"...I'm torn between Jane and Jessica," he answers after a moment. "And hey, both are J names, so that's convenient. Though Jane might be too close, actually."
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"Ah, no, still a detective. Lotta people don't know Miss Marple's first name is Jane," he answers with a grin. There's a lot of stuff Ted doesn't know, but at least he's decently well-versed in the realms of fiction. And clearly he likes cool old ladies solving crimes.
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Then he quickly adds an addendum. "If that's a real crime you've solved at some point, don't tell me." He'd like pies to stay safe and non-creepy, please.
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"Ugh. Yeah, I'm never coming with you to a crime scene," he says definitively. "Don't want good stuff ruined for me."
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