*Disclaimer: I do not own Elementary, nor any of the characters*
Sherlock had noticed that not only did Joan seemed distracted as they left, but she also seemed to be in pain. She was leaning on him a bit, trying to keep the weight off her broken ankle. The EMTs had wrapped it rather than casting it, assuring Sherlock that it wasn't severe enough to put Joan through the handicap of a cast. Sherlock wrapped his arm tighter around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground and practically carrying her to the cab. After helping her in and sliding in himself, he gently lifted Joan's left leg, allowing her ankle to rest in his lap.
"Does this help?" He asks, gently massaging her calf, trying to relax the muscles that had tensed from limping. Joan nodded and stared out the window, pretending to be interested in something on the street. "Joan? Is something bothering you? Was it wrong to bring you to talk to Irene? I am sorry for what happened in there. I didn't think you would have to… remember what had happened." Joan sighed and turned to look at him. His eyes were full of concern and she couldn't help reaching out placing her hand on his upper arm affectionately.
"Sherlock, I am not upset. I am actually kind of… happy… you brought me here. We may have more questions, but at least we got a few answers. We know that Irene did not plan what Delar did and that she is not happy about it. And we have learned that we are not the only ones after him…"
"But something is bothering you still." Sherlock wasn't asking, he knew she was worrying about something else. "What is it?" Joan hesitated, then looked directly into Sherlock's eyes.
"Do you have an insurance plan? You know, like the one Irene has?" Sherlock sighed softly, of course Irene would have brought that up.
"Yes, I do." He stated simply, continuing to massage Joan's leg as a distraction from the conversation.
"Oh," Joan said, removing her hand from his arm and staring back out the window. Sherlock groaned internally, she was doing that thing again. That "Joan thing," where she would ask questions so to point out that something was bugging her, then she would suddenly just drop it, playing on the fact that she knew Sherlock couldn't just leave it be. And as always, he fell right into her trap.
"Is there a problem with me having a plan in place in case something ever happens? What I… what we do is very dangerous. We have made quite a few enemies, as has been displayed in recent events, so years ago I set up a plan for what was to be done if anything ever happened to me. What is the big deal?" Joan snapped her gaze back to meet Sherlock's, and he was surprised to see what appeared to be hurt mixed in with anger.
"What's the big deal? The big deal is that you and I have been partners for months now and it never occurred to you to inform me about your insurance plan. What if something did happen to you Sherlock? Without knowing about this plan I wouldn't know what to do or who to call. I wouldn't know what you wanted. How could you not tell me?"
"Joan, it's not like that…" Sherlock pinches the bridge of his nose, something Joan knows is a sure sign of frustration. She waits for the answer she knows he will provide, he can't help it, he must talk. "I did not believe it to be of great importance. When we met I had no idea that this would be our outcome," He gestures his hand between the two of them, clearly illustrating their budding… relationship? The word felt weak to both of them, but surprisingly they both fell short of a better synonym. "I was expecting a baby sitter, and as my baby sitter you were not entitled to know the personal details such as the existence and contents of my insurance plan."
"But I am not your baby sitter, Sherlock. I haven't been for quite some time. I was and am your partner in work and… well…" Joan wasn't sure what to say. They had admitted their mutual love but did that mean the same this to the great Sherlock Holmes as it meant to her. Certainly not… could it? Sherlock grasped her hand and brought it to his lips, and closing his eyes, he kissed it tenderly but meaningfully.
"Joan, I was going to tell you about it. I have actually been making some changes to it lately, but you will read it once it is complete." And with that the topic was dropped and Sherlock returned his attention to massaging Joan's leg. "Feeling better?" He inquired after a long silence.
"Yes, thank you Sherlock." Joan smiled at him affectionately, helping her was a display of affection that had been present even before anything had happened. She treasure the same displays nearly as much as the more obvious kissing, yet she did wish that he would perhaps hold her hand, just to show the world. To state his claim, so to speak. She wanted people to know she was his and he was hers.
"Anything for you, love." He whispered. Suddenly, Joan's gaze was full of panic as she ripped her leg out of his lap, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through her ankle as her foot landed on the floor. Sherlock stared at her confused and worried. "What? What's wrong?" Joan wrapped her arms around her body and looked at Sherlock timidly. "Joanie… what did I do?" Sherlock talked gently, as if to a frightened animal. Then, as suddenly as she fell into it, Joan snapped out of her panic.
"I-I just… when you… I'm sorry," She relaxed her body and even brought her leg back up to rest in Sherlock's lap. Cautiously, he resumed he gently caress, keeping his eyes on her face. He waited, she would explain, and she did. "He called me love… Moriarty, Marcus, Delar… whatever the hell is name is. He said it three times before, six times during, and once before her left." Joan couldn't look into Sherlock's eyes. It wasn't fair. She wanted him to use the endearment. When Sherlock said it, it was full of meaning and promise, completely opposite of when Delar had used it almost like a derogatory term because of her gender or something like that, she could quite explain it. When Delar said it is was possessive and degrading. And although Sherlock clearly meant it as what it was, the simple utterance of the term sent her spirally back, almost like a trigger for PTSD patient.
"I'm sorry… I won't use it again," Sherlock stroked Joan's hair gently. She frowned, relieved yet disappointed. Damn Delar! He was interfering without even being present. "What may I call you?" Sherlock asked quickly drawing in all of Joan's attention.
"Excuse me?" The puzzled look Joan gave him made hi chuckle despite himself.
"What am I allowed to call you?" He repeated. '"Watson" is all fine and good for work, and I attend to continue to use it when it comes to cases, and I have become quite fond of "Joan" and "Joanie" to be used as a more common term, around the brownstone and in everyday life, but what endearments do you prefer? "My sweet", perhaps? Or would you rather I remain more conventional with "darling" or "dear"?" Joan laughed gently. Sherlock smiled, it was getting a little closer to the musical sound of her "before" giggle every time.
"Oh, I don't know. I like them all, I guess. How about you just call me whatever comes to mind and I'll point out the ones I don't like as I hear them?" Joan suggested.
"As you wish, my Asian lover," Sherlock smirked, as Joan glared at him.
"Put that one on the never-again list,"
"What? You didn't like that one, my little Chinese checker?" He laughed until Joan punched him in the arm. "Hey!" He rubbed his arm, trying, unsuccessfully, to appear hurt.
"Alright, smartass. What am I allowed to call you? My sweet British frog?" Joan challenged.
"If you wish," Sherlock replied, he knew she would never call him anything ridicules. Joan detested saying embarrassing things nearly as much as she hated being embarrassed herself. Joan rolled her eyes.
"In all seriousness, is there anything you prefer I not call you?" Sherlock thought for a moment, really trying to give it some thought before answering.
"Darling," He replied. "I know it is an innocent enough term, but it is Irene's favorite to use. I don't want her poisoning my thoughts when you call for me. All I want to be thinking about is you," Joan blushed softly, and Sherlock couldn't resist, he gently place her leg back on the ground and leaned in to kiss her carefully on the lips. Joan tried to behave, she truly did. She tried to let Sherlock control the kiss, only giving small responses and following his lead. But everything about him, his smell, the feel of his skin, even the sound of his breathing, drove her crazy, she could resist him. The moment his tongue grazed her lip, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pull herself tight against his slim, yet muscular body, opening her mouth to him with a passionate moan. To her great surprise, Sherlock didn't pull away, instead he pulled her into his lap, seemly unaware that they were still in a taxi with the drive get on the other side of the barrier. He arms snaked around her waist as her hand slide to his hair, tangling her fingers, deepening the kiss even further. When she pulled away for air, his lips never left her, just slid across her jawline, down to her neck.
"Oh, Joan… my angel… my sweet… my darling… my world… my perfect, wonderful Joan…" Between each kiss, he breathed a new endearment into her skin. Joan tilted her head, giving him more room to work, cherishing every kiss, every word. "Oh, my Joanie… I love you…" And with that, she pulled his lip back to hers, kissing her with every ounce of emotion she possessed.
"I love you too," She breathed, as they pulled away for just a moment.
The glow in his eyes as she uttered those for tiny words was enough to drive any woman insane, but just as she bent to kiss him again, the cab stop. As if suddenly remembering they were not alone, Joan practically jump out of Sherlock's lap back onto the back bench, as Sherlock laughed softly opening the door. Once out, he turned to pay the cabby as Joan followed. She noticed that he gave an unnecessarily large tip and blushed a soft shade of pink. Sherlock turn back to her, smiling as if he had found the lost treasure of the Pharaohs, before offering her his arm. Surprised, yet thrilled, Joan took it and allowed him to lead her into the precinct to talk to Gregson and Bell.