Redefining Redemption (Joan H Watson and GJLestrade)

Greg's back arched, fingers tightening in her hair. "Oh...christ, Joan," he moaned. "Close..." Her mouth on him was hot and wet and gorgeous, one of the best things anyone had ever done for him, or to him for that matter. Her tongue swirled, she sucked hard and he reached the edge and tumbled over, gasping and shuddering and chanting her name.

Oh fuck, Joan could tell Greg was close. She finished him off, swirling her tongue around the tip and sucking hard until his arousal filled her. She swallowed, pulling back a moment later only to pant heavily. She brushed a few strands of hair away from her sweaty face and she tried to regain her breath.

"You...look amazing," Greg rasped when he could string two words together and make sense. "You are amazing." He gathered her close and kissed her, tasting himself on her tongue. "This has got to rank as the best time of my life...which is sad in a way."

Would they have come to this point if they had not lost their friend? Greg didn't know. Thrown together through mutual need, he and Joan had taken that last step that they seemed to have been hovering at the edge of for months. It seemed quite poignant that they should find this only at the expense of their friend's life.

"Look, I know you don't want to define our relationship by him, but I think we need to talk things through. I mean, there are things I need to express, and I'm a bloke so this isn't easy for me." He grinned apologetically. "We don't do feelings...It's just, this time, I need to talk about him. Can we do that? If not now, then sometime?"

Joan pushed back her hair once more, her chest heaving from panting and her head reeling from the pounding in it. She collapsed on the bed next to Greg with a contented sigh, her lips eventually meeting his and the taste of arousal on both their tongues. "Really?" Joan's expression was one of surprise, "I'm flattered and sad by that."

Maybe things were going to be more complicated than Joan originally thought. Did Greg have a lot of non-sherlock related baggage? Then there was the age difference. Their flat locations. Did he want kids? Did she want kids? She knew she was overthinking but she figured she needed to do that now rather than when she fell deeper into the rabbit hole.

"Of course, we need to talk things through." She smiled wanly as he said he was still an emotionally devoid bloke, "Right, I should take these feeling opportunities as they come." She reminded herself out loud, "We can talk now, if you'd like..."She mused aloud, glancing at him, "Just....not like this..."She gestured to them in bad and naked for that matter, "I at least want to get some clothes on before we chat about him, though he wasn't wearing anything when we almost saw the Queen." She shrugged. Sherlock was a strange one, always going on about the morals of others and judging them for when they broke their own rules- yet, there were never any rules for him. He transcended all of that.

Greg chuckled. "No, I agree. Talking about him requires clothes. But just..don't worry about it, okay?" He smiled. "Look, I just want you to know, I'm not demanding anything from you, I'm not hurrying you. You'll get through this in your own time, so will I. We move on at our own pace but I will only say something if I see you not moving on, okay? And then only to draw your attention to it. I will say something if I think it's harming you, or us." Greg slipped an arm around her, hugging Joan close again.

"Right now, I want us to be together, to give this a chance," he sid firmly. "It's been five weeks, which isn't enough time by anyone's standards, so no pressure. No, it's practical things really, like, for instance, do we move in together and when? We're already friends, do we need the boyfriend/girlfriend thing where we get to know each other first? If I moved in here I could help you pay the rent on this place, it has to be a struggle now he's...now you're on your own. Do you want to move anywhere else? Can you stand to have me around 24/7? You know, stuff like that."

Joan sat up, swinging her legs over the bed, looking back at Greg. "I know, I'm glad you said it though. We'll both weather this at our own pace but I don't want either of us feeling guilty for moving on quicker than the other or feel like we're holding the other back, yeah?" Her gaze softened on Greg and she gave a small sigh, "Tell me when I'm being melodramatic- which is rare by the way- or if I'm not....seeing some things clearly." Like the fact that he probably was never coming back. She adamantly believed he wasn't a fake but that didn't mean he wasn't completely dead. She hugged him back and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "And, I don't want you to worry, I know that's probably something I can't ask of you, but worry only when it's necessary and you REALLY think I'm in danger, okay?" She told him firmly. She didn't want to cause him anymore grief though there was a small doubt in her mind that she would try something if she was having a particularly awful string of weeks.

She slipped out of his grasp, only to stand up, stretch, and rummage for some clothes in her antique dresser that used to belong to Mrs. Hudson. She settled for some plain underwear, bra, a blouse with a gray cardigan and relaxed fit pants that would make her leg feel not so constricted. She brushed her short hair into a manageable style and she turned to look at Greg, "I want to let this relationship breathe too, if that makes sense..."She trailed off, "We're going to grieve at our own pace and though we don't want that to affect our relationship, it might. But, that's not without the hope that we can work past it, other couples have their obstacles, ours is just a bit strange." She nodded at his questions, "Honestly? I can't answer any of those right now. I know I'll be tied to this place for awhile and I can't bear to leave Mrs. Hudson, she's done so much for me already. And I don't want to hold you back...what if you want to move somewhere in the country and there's no hospital of repute for me to work at? "She mused aloud, "We can take the getting to know each other as it comes, sure we're friends but we honestly haven't hung out much and without the third wheel of Sherlock." She swallowed the lump in her throat, "Or our work. It'll be difficult to separate those things for awhile." She paused, "I want you around but...we shouldn't crowd each other." She noted, "If you want to set up a certain schedule that works well with your work and my days at the hospital, to be somewhat efficient and feel like we have busy lives, we can do that."

Greg was almost disappointed. He really wanted to move in and be with her. His small cramped and frankly awful flat was all he could afford on his own though. And he did not want to return there. Not now. Damn it all, you're being stupid about this, he thought harshly. The poor girl needs her space and doesn't need you muscling in on her right now. She's right. This...whatever it is we have, needs to be allowed to breathe and grow.

He leaned back, watching her rummage through drawers. He watched as she picked out knickers and a bra, both plain and serviceable. He really wanted to buy her something pretty, something sexy. A trip to the shops was in order. Oh, God, he was letting himself in for a world of embarrassment buying her sexy knickers... He grinned and smothered it, hoping she hadn't noticed.

"Call me, whenever you need," he said firmly. "I want you to know you can, day or night, if you need me. Any time, you got that? At dead of night, or two in the afternoon, whenever. Doesn't matter. If you need me, I'll be there. Got that?" He swung his legs out of the bed and sat with his feet on the floor and the sheet draped modestly across his lap. He stretched and yawned and eventually stood, dragging his bag over to find a clean shirt and pants and socks. He would have to make do with yesterday's suit.

You should have let him down softer. Look at him now, practically a puppy dog face. I can't handle puppy dog faces. He's a grown man. Is he that ready to settle down? "I just, I want to make sure we move at our own pace rather than rushing things because we think we need to, you know?" She turned to look at him, watching him in a satisfied manner stretch before her.


"Same goes for you." She murmured, "I...I don't mean to kick you out Greg, I.. I need you here but I don't want to disappoint you if I isolate myself. Plus, if I yelled at you or started a fight or something prematurely, I wouldn't forgive myself." She sighed softly, "I want this to work. I don't want to push you away. Just promise me that you'll tell me what you feel, what you want out of this?" She moved closer to him, watching him re-dress in yesterday's suit, "If you need to get some things from your place, you can. We can go out then or see Mrs. Hudson?"She offered up.

"Also...."She drew closer to him, her hands resting on his hips, " I want you to know that I'm open for mostly anything, so don't be shy in telling me if you want anything specific, it'll save us a lot of trouble in the end."

"Specific, hm? Like what, exactly?" He ran a finger along her neck, enticing. "I have a good imagination." Then he chuckled. "Trouble is, we'll never do anything else if we get sidetracked. We can talk about it later. Let's go see Mrs Hudson...Actually, let's have tea first. I'm gasping. Then we can go see her. After that we could call off on my place, I'll get some fresh clothes which don't make me look like I'm still on duty and then we can go do something couply,together, how would that be?"

Joan rolled her eyes at Greg, "If I have to tell you then it's not that fun for you to tell me, yeah?" She teased, goosebumps forming where his finger trailed down her neck, "Use that imagination while we're out today, okay?" She chuckled lightly, "Okay, tea first then Mrs. Hudson, stop by your place to get clothes, then we'll go out to the Park or go to the Art Museum." She shrugged, she didn't really care where they went. "Sounds fantastic!" She grabbed her purse on her dresser and ushered Greg out of her room before she asked, "Go out for tea or do you want me to make it?"

"Was going to take you to dinner, Angelo's tonight, remember? It's too long since we saw the man. Might be good to get it over with too. He was upset at the funeral...hm, maybe not a good idea then? What do you think? You prefer somewhere where they don't know us?"

"Right. Angelo's." Joan nodded and mused aloud, "Though it'd be difficult, I think we could all use a group hug, it'd be nice to see Angelo."

Greg chuckled. "A group hug with Angelo? God, that man's built like the proverbial brick out house. He'd crush you. Then again, maybe not. Maybe you're right, we need to get it over with. Come on then, let's get some tea and talk to Mrs H."

"I could handle him." Joan said with a chuckle, walking over to Greg and kissing him on the cheek before she locked up her flat and they made their way outside to grab some tea at the local house.

Greg watched her walk ahead a little, admiring her back view. She walked with an easy stride and he reached out to place a hand on her back, flat against her spine above the belt of her jeans. He could feel her warmth against his hand and marvelled again at the turn of events.

He just wished the stupid git was still around to share their lives. True, he took up most of the space in a room when he walked in, was less than careful of people's feelings and single minded in his deductions but...he was Sherlock, and there would never be another like him. They had to face making a life without him, even though Greg was certain his influence would be with them forever, despite Joan's desire that they not define their relationship by him. In truth, Greg was at a loss to work out how they could. Yes, this was about them but they had both been in the man's sphere and couldn't escape the effect he had on them both.

Joan walked ahead of Greg, she was used to having to keep up with Sherlock so her gait was sped up though her stature was petite. Her limp would come back at odd times and she was nervous that it would come back when they saw Angelo. How would he act? Would he cry? No, not that man. But, one never knew. Sherlock had helped the man escape jail time, who knew what would happen.

The ex-army doctor felt Lestrade's hand at the small of her back and she initially flinched, still not used to the contact especially in public. She was worried. She didn't want Greg to worry about her either, that'd create too much tension. Joan was worried about their relationship though. She knew they couldn't heal on their own, even if they tried to avoid each other, they might have caved in and spent the night together when they were at the lowest and not willing to discuss. But, now they were at least willing to discuss and heal together. If it didn't work, it didn't work but Joan wanted it to work.

Joan wondered if Sherlock would roll his eyes at their relationship? Would Sherlock say he knew it'd be bound to happen? Would he disapprove? Would he be jealous? He probably wouldn't feel anything at all Joan realized. They reached a small tea shop in no time and Joan ordered chamomile to relax her. She found a table for them by the window, "Are you nervous?"

"Me? No, why would I be? Are you? You don't order chamomile tea unless you want calming down."
Greg ordered a coffee and took the seat opposite. He reached over and grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles. "Look, it's okay to be nervous, you know. My dad once told me that after a death, life becomes a series of firsts. The first time you laugh and not feel guilty, the first time you meet people who knew the person who died, the first time you go out again, the first time you date again. It's okay to be nervous or unsure, that's part of the territory. Just...talk to me, yeah? Tell me what's going through your mind. I'll do my best to be honest with you too? That okay with you?"

Joan nodded, blue-gray eyes meeting Greg's, "I know but I'll always feel guilty I suppose." She murmured, "I'm worried how Angelo will react. What our role is in this, do we act sad? Do we comfort him? What do we do?"

"Play it by ear. Let's see what state he's in first. Look, I've had to deliver bad news before, I know what reactions people give you and believe me, everyone is different. Let's just see, eh?" Greg sipped his coffee and sighed appreciatively. "That's good. Look, if the man needs comfort, we can give it, can't we? You're a doctor, you know what to do?"

"Of course, comfort." Joan murmured, looking down at her tea and sighing, "I'm sorry. I just...I'm still nervous."

"Hey," Greg murmured, reaching out to stroke her cheek with a gentle finger. He traced a line to her chin and tipped her face up. "It's fine," he said. "It's all fine, whatever you feel. It's an unknown situation. You surely felt nervous when you were in the Army and facing the unknown, yeah? You know, I can't imagine you in khaki." Greg grinned. "Well, actually I can..." He could imagine her in Khaki very well, thank you, and it was doing unexpected things for his libido, imagining her in uniform. "Bet you looked good. All commanding, Captain." He brought his right hand up in a mock salute and grinned at her, trying to dispel her nerves. "You could try ordering me around sometime...if you liked?"

Joan hated being vulnerable, especially in public and especially with Greg. She sighed in frustration when Greg said it would be fine. How did he know? "I did." She nodded. She really felt nervous when she went into the Army but then it had all worked out. Except that one incident, she wasn't sure if she would ever tell Greg about it. "you're imagining me in khaki aren't you?" Joan raised an eyebrow but smiled and rolled her eyes a moment later at his mock salute, "Would you want me to?" She asked curiously, "Is this one of your specific things?"

Greg laughed. "Yeah, I guess so. Could be. I might have found a hitherto unknown uniform kink." He drank off the remains of his coffee and fixed her with a look. "I bet you looked good, though. Capable, strong, independent. You still are all those things, you know. They've just got a bit lost, that's all. Has no one ever told you how beautiful you are?" Greg's expression was serious. "Because you are, you know."

Joan met Greg's eyes with a teasing smirk, "We'll have to confirm that at some point, you know?" She chuckled lightly and sipped at her tea, "Mm...."She murmured and shrugged "I know those...qualities in me are lost but I can't help but feel they might be lost forever. It'll take time to regain them I think." She paused "Besides my parents? Once or twice."She smiled softly at him, "Has anyone told you how wonderful you are? Regardless of your uniform kink." She teased, "And you're a handsome bloke, don't know why your wife was such a wanker."She murmured and then gave him an apologetic look for bringing it up again.

"Bottom line is I think she didn't really realise what she was marrying. I was ambitious, a career copper. I stayed out late, I worked hard, I ended up in hospital twice, if you discount the half dozen times I had to visit A&E for x-rays, stitches, shots and antibiotics, that is. First time I was stabbed, second time I was shot, luckily neither time was life-threatening but she got scared anyway." Greg paused to think back, remembering the arguments.

"I think I didn't handle it well, I tried to make out it didn't bother me and so it shouldn't bother her. I almost resented her for caring, because it made me feel guilty for letting myself get hurt and worrying her half to death. Then she started nagging at me to give it up, find something safer, but I wouldn't. It was my life, my choice." Greg took a deep breath. This was going deep into his emotions and memories, but he knew that if he wanted Joan, if he wanted to keep her, this was necessary.

"I was insensitive to what she needed," he admitted. "Looking back, I think I fell out of love with her first, or that I was never in love with her to begin with. I was in love with the idea of being in love, and I was too young to know any different. I should have had the balls to end it, but I didn't want to do that to her. She did it to me instead. I'm no saint, Joan. Don't go thinking I am. I'm not a bent copper, I've never looked the other way, and I stand by my word, I do what I say I'll do. I catch the criminals, but when all is said and done, I'm no hero. I am ordinary, I'm a bloke just doing my job, and I can be an insensitive bastard sometimes. I also have bad days, days when I am no use to anyone, not even myself. Might be on the side of the Angels, Jo', but don't think that I am one, okay?"

((I make no apologies for the use of that line either...))