Redefining Redemption (Joan H Watson and GJLestrade)

"What did you say about counter productive?" Greg grinned at her. "I shall join Madam, if Madam wishes," he said, mock respectfully, affecting a posh accent. "Or I could just watch. You're lovely and sexy when you get wet."

"It is counter productive...."Joan agreed, wrinkling her nose, "Perhaps, sir can just watch..."She teased him with a smile as she entered the bathroom, turning on the water and grabbing a towel for herself.

Greg padded after her, revelling in the back view as she walked into the bathroom. He could get used to this, very used to this. The need for company, for love, formed an almost desperate knot in his chest. He knew he was falling and falling hard and was struck by a deeper worry that he would, ultimately, be disappointed. He could only hope, and he refused to acknowledge just how much he was hoping, that things would work themselves out and this was the beginnning of something amazing and wonderful and theirs. Brought together by mutual grief, he wanted them to continue together with mutual love; shared goals as well as shared history. He leaned against the door and watched her turn on the shower, marvelling that she would trust and give him this much.

"What you looking at?" Joan teased Greg with a grin as she let the sheet that had been draped around her drop, "You can watch if you like, but I might find it a tad creepy." She admitted with a wan grin.

"Okay then, I can brush my teeth and have a pee and act like we're a proper couple, how would that be?" Greg grinned. "Too domestic for you? Less distracting and far less creepy, wouldn't you say?"

"s ure, go ahead." Joan grinned as before entering the shower. "Did you ever imagine me in the shower?"

"Now, do you mean did I imagine you when I was in the shower, or did I imagine you in the shower?" Greg leaned against the sink for a moment, contemplating. "Actually, not in my wildest dreams. I cannot remember thinking about what you would look like soaking wet. I should have done though. Been missing out. So, tell me, ever think about me that way? I mean, did you ever do any imagining yourself?"

"Mm, both." Joan answered, grabbing the soap and beginning to wash herself off. She chuckled under the water, "Hmm, I did imagining a couple of times, but I usually stopped myself. Thought it was silly, that you'd never think of me that way, that type of stuff." Joan answered softly, "There was only one time when I let myself though." It had been right after Sherlock's death and Joan had been ashamed.

Brushing your teeth in front of your bird while she showered was a bit too domestic for Greg's taste, but he settled for the fact that he was doing it for her, to make her feel more comfortable. Not that he minded domestic. It was simply that it might be too early, they were not quite 24 hours into this new phase of their relationship and had no idea where they were going, barely able to navigate their new-found feelings for each other.

However, Greg let his mind drift to imagining this as his normal morning, mutual use of the bathroom, getting ready for work, sharing spaces. He spat into the sink and wondered when the last time was that he and his ex- had shared the bathroom. Maybe they never had. She had always been a bit distasteful of being in there together, letting him see her on the loo or brushing her teeth. In fact she had positively shied away from being seen in the shower. Maybe the domesticity ruined the dream, he wondered. Was that why they had drifted apart, because he wasn't Prince bloody Charming who never took a piss or brushed his teeth?

They had been together nearly fifteen years, with no kids and the honeymoon period was well past it sell-by date. She had never been shy of being seen in bed, of making love, but it had been less than adventurous. Greg turned off the taps, dropped his toothbrush in his washbag, then turned to watch his friend--for she was a friend he reminded himself--finish her shower. In fact, Joan was more of a friend than his wife had ever been which, if he was looking for reasons, was more than likely one of them.

He waited for her to get out so he could take her place and smiled at her when he caught her glancing at him. When she admitted thinking about him he couldn't resist asking "When was that? It bothers you, obviously. You've gone all quiet. Share?"

Joan's last boyfriend, Aaron, decided to piss all over the place. Metaphorically. But, he also pissed in the shower and that turned her off, especially if she was in the shower with him. Sure, she knew urine was technically sterile, but she couldn't understand the productivity of actually peeing in the shower, it still felt unnecessary and unsanitary to her.

Yet, she wanted to be more domestic with Greg. Actual domestic. Not the once a week dinner party that had them in nerves the rest of the week because something went wrong. Joan wanted to be secure in her relationship with Greg, stable, somewhat spontaneous. She wanted to feel safe. The ex-army doctor continued to wash herself, thinking about the times she imagined Greg and the time she actually did something about her. She found her right hand drifting down towards her apex, her fingers trailing over herself, a small moan lost in the steam and spray of water from the shower. She snapped out of it, shaking her head and then washing her hair.

Joan finished efficiently, getting out of the shower and wrapping a towel around herself. She heard Greg's question before she looked up at him, her blue-gray eyes meeting his, "I...I....It was after Sherlock...."She trailed off, looking down and moving past him to dry herself off and put on some casual clothes. She towel dried her light brown hair and looked in the mirror, seeing the image of him looking concernedly at her.

"After...?" After what, after he died, after he deduced my wife was sleeping with the bloody PE teacher? Greg couldn't help the slightly annoyed thoughts. Sherlock had been a right prick half the time, revealing things most people would keep quiet, embarrassing you right in front of your mates, or your colleagues, or family... He either had no clue or more likey he knew, but he just didn't care.

Social niceties seemed to irritate him, being tactful just did not enter into his head, diplomacy was not in his remit. And somehow, he managed to be both charismatic and charming, vulnerable and funny, in need of help but spending vast amounts of energy pushing it away or...maybe he was just in the habit of laying people bare before they could do the same to him? Casually opening wounds on others before they began to bleed him. Whatever the situation had been, Greg could not but wonder at how Sherlock had drawn them all to him, and then... Greg shook himself, seeing her reflection in the mirror.

"After he died." Joan answered Greg, turning around as she was fully clothed now, "I....I know it's horrible, I'm sorry." She paused, "He just....he had a hold on all of us and sometimes I wonder why anyone else except me tolerated him. They didn't know him like I did. T-they...they didn't realized how much I loved him." She admitted then saw the look in Greg's eyes, "Not in love with him." She amended, "I...he was such an ass. How could he make us love him but then push us all away?"

Greg smiled. "He just did. I think...no, no good speculating, let's just say it made sense to him at the time." Greg got out of the shower and towelled off quickly. He wanted to pull Joan to him and kiss that lost look away. He wanted to comfort her, to be there for her. "I get it, if it helps I understood him, a bit. And I know you loved him, whatever form it took. You and he were a team, a pairing, a couple really, even if not in the usual sense. That's one reason why I never felt comfortable saying anything to you. I felt like I would have been in the way."

Grabbing fresh boxers and shirt out of his bag, he got dressed as quickly as he could, leaving his shirt loose at the collar. He never wore a tie at the weekend. Tugging on fresh socks he realised would have to make a stop at the flat if he wanted to stay the night, he had no more fresh stuff in the bag. It was geared for a single change only.

"Well, you get to see my flat after all. I'll need to call in and get some fresh gear for Monday, assuming you want me to stay for the rest of the weekend?"

"I'm sure it made sense to him, almost everything did." Joan said with a quick nod as Greg toweled off. "Y-you did?" She raised an eyebrow at him, "We were.." She still wanted to be apart of Sherlock's team but he wasn't here. I'm sorry you didn't feel comfortable, I know it must have been difficult to get through the fog that was Sherlock." She admitted with a wan smile.

"You sure you want me to see your flat?" Joan teased with a smile, "Mm-hmm. I do."

"Good, glad about that, and yeah, I don't mind you seeing my ratty bachelor flat. You might feel sorry for me and I can play the sympathy card." He straightened his clothes and glanced at her. "It's okay to feel sad, you know. If it helps I do as well. Whatever the reason he did what he did, it was a waste of a brilliant mind, and the stupid git has deprived us of a friend. and I do believe that he wasa friend, that he thought of himself as our friend, even if he didn't act very friend-like."

((will be away from my computer for a couple of days, so might get access to the internet but don't hold your breath! Will be back as soon as. Take care))

[No worries then! Have fun! ]

Joan grinned at Greg, "Ratty old bachelor bad,yeah? I can handle that. Sherlock kept worse things than a bachelor pad in our flat." She told him with a reassuring smile, "I know, it's just difficult to act sad and give in and not feel vulnerable."

"Come on then, probably time to go. My flat isn't far, we could call on the way back. Now where would you like to go?)

"you said Angelos right?" Joan told Gregg, kissing his cheek andwalking into the living room

"Mm, I did, but we could go for a walk first, peek in at a gallery or something if you want. Us coppers are not totally without culture you know, and I do like to show my lady a good time..." He grinned. "That did not come out right."

"show your lady a good time?" Joan grinned at Gregg as they walked onto the street. "my copper and I going to a gallery?"

"Well, only if you want to. We can take a walk in the park if you like, soak up the evening, talk, just be together..."

[Sorry, thought I replied to this. ]

Joan pursed her lips, " a walk first would be nice, then the museum and if we feel up to it, Angelo's?" She looked at Greg.

"Come on then, let's make tracks..." Greg held open the door and they walked out into Baker Street, heading for the nearby park. He walked close, an arm around her, holding her near. Now he had her, he felt almost desperately protective. He knew if he was too protective, then she would pull back, she was too independent to allow him to mother her too much.

As they walked, several desperate feelings rushed through Greg and he tried to process them, wondering again at the speed of events. Less than 48 hours ago he had been sitting at his desk positively dreading another weekend like all the others since his divorce and Sherlock's death. Now look at me, he thought, glancing at the woman beside him. Happy for the first time in weeks, possibly months...Just don't leave me yet, because I don't know if I could stand it.

Greg knew was on the edge of feeling like a vulnerable teenager again; the first stirrings of interest, the first euphoria of being attracted to someone, the feeling of being on top of the ruddy world and then the crashing pain and defeat when he got dumped. He simply hoped Joan didn't dump him, didn't decide this was a bad idea, well, not yet anyway. It felt like the result of denying himself this for too long, of wanting and not admitting it, of needing someone to love too badly. Of needing someone to love him.

"Do you like me, as a person I mean? What do you see when you look at me, Joan?" Greg was curious to know what she thought of him. "Honestly, am I worth this?"

Joan kept telling herself that this was real. Greg was real. Their starting relationship was real. The way she felt was real. She just hoped this happiness wouldn't go away. "Yes, of course." Joan reassured Greg with a smile and a squeeze of his hand, "You are worth it-- I wouldn't have discussed my feelings with you if I didn't want to start a relationship, if I didn't want to be with you truly." She paused," 've always respected and admired you, why can't I admire your ass now?" She teased.

"Oh, you can admire my arse, darling, admire it all you want. I definitely admire yours." He grinned, but then went serious again. "Thank you, love," he said. "The feeling is mutual, you know. Always admired you too."