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2015-12-06
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Give Your Hand to Me

Summary:

Sherlock needs Molly's help in a little undercover investigation of a family counselor, so they're posing as a troubled married couple. They'll both find it to be an eye opening experience and will learn that they don't know each other quite as well as they thought. (song fic based on Ray Charles' "You Don't Know Me)

Notes:

This song lends itself to a lot of angst, but this isn't what I'd call an angsty fic. It's more on the fluffy fun side of things. Enjoy! Thank you to MizJoely for beta reading!

Work Text:

Molly crossed the windy street, holding her scarf in place as she did, and ran up to where Sherlock stood at the corner.

"Hello," she chirped with a little smile as Sherlock wordlessly dug in his coat pocket.

"Here, these are for you," Sherlock said, handing her a pair of rings.

Molly took them in her palm and examined them briefly. "Wow, these are…really nice."

"Oh, I have a hefty collection of undercover items," Sherlock said dismissively. "The only thing you can thank me for is knowing your size. I believe they'll fit just right."

"Um, yeah that's perfect," Molly said quietly as she slipped the rings on, remembering how it was a matter of months before that she was actually getting fitted for a real engagement ring and wedding band.

Sherlock stuck the plain gold band on his finger and regarded her as she stared down glumly at her glittering finger. He may have had a slight pang of compassion rush through his heart, but his tone didn't give it away when he spoke.

"Oh, for God's sake, is this going to be too emotionally taxing for you? If it is, you'd better tell me now."

Molly's gaze shot up to his and he saw that little fire ignite. The one that meant Molly Hooper was not to be underestimated.

"I'm fine," she said with a little nod. "Come on, we can't be late. Just give me the rest of the details as we walk."

They began their stroll around the block to the office of Dr. Jeff Houghs, the family counselor Sherlock was investigating.

"So, he's actually telling couples to get a divorce?" Molly asked, peering up at him.

Sherlock fiddled with his wedding band within the confines of his pocket. "No, that's his trick. It doesn't seem that he's telling couples what to do. But he's an expert counselor and understands how to get inside people's minds. It seems that his skill is in making a couple believe that they've reached the decision to divorce on their own. And once they have, he refers one of the two to a divorce attorney. What tipped someone off is that it's always the same attorney. Dr. Houghs secretary was the one who contacted me. She's seen lunch meetings scheduled with an A.F. a number of times. And often times he has her make a deposit afterward. The lawyer's name who's suspected of working with the counselor is Alfred Fritz."

"That's…horrible," Molly murmured, shaking her head.

"To be fair, it's unlikely that any of these couples would have chosen to remain together much into the future anyway," Sherlock said with a sniff. "But the point is that a family counselor shouldn't be accepting monetary rewards for sending business to a divorce attorney."

"I think the point is that he doesn't truly care for his clients. That's unforgivable," Molly stated firmly.

"Anyway, we're just here to feel him out. See what he tells us. If we get any time on our own, we can try to poke around a bit as well."

"That seems risky." Molly was looking a bit more nervous.

"Let's not forget, the secretary is on this. She knows we're coming today and is all too willing to help. Not to worry," Sherlock said with a little grin. Then he gently took her arm and stopped them as they were about to reach the corner door for the office, and he began speaking rapid fire. "Now, let's just go over some of our little details, shall we? We are William and Sarah Scott. Our wedding was March 15th, so our one year anniversary is fast approaching. The first year of marriage has been a bit of a struggle for us. Oh, the usual things. I care too much about work and never take the time to listen to your feelings. I wonder why you're so moody and not as supportive and affectionate as you used to be. Essentially, the honeymoon is over and the two of us are beginning to wonder if we're simply too different to make 'death do us part' work smoothly."

Molly's brows lifted as he finished his little speech. "Wow, you certainly have the stereotypical marital problems laid out quite nicely. Thought this wasn't your area."

"I've observed enough to have a handle on things," Sherlock said instantly. "It's living it that's not my area." He flipped his collar up and started toward the door, but he stopped and turned around again.

Molly froze when she saw him extend his hand to her.

Sherlock smirked. "Pretend we're committed to making this work."

Molly swallowed thickly and placed her hand inside his, feeling his hand close around it firmly. "Sure, let's pretend," she whispered, mostly to herself, as they went inside the office building.

The secretary checked them in for their appointment, with a knowing glance that Molly saw clearly. She gave Sherlock a little nod, making it clear that she was still very much in on the plan.

Molly bounced her knee nervously as they sat in the office and waited for Dr. Houghs to come in. Sherlock reached over and easily got it to still, in addition to making her heart halt, when he placed a hand over her leg. He told her with his eyes that it would be just fine and Molly gave him a tight smile of appreciation. Sherlock was just letting his hand slide away from her leg when the counselor came in.

Pleasant introductions were made and names were exchanged as the professional looking man took a seat across from the couple.

"Well, I spoke to you over the phone already Mr. Scott," Dr. Houghs said. "So I believe I have the basic background of your relationship. So now I suppose I'd very much like to hear from each of you about how you're feeling right now and what you hope to gain from this experience."

Sherlock slid his fingers between Molly's on the couch where they sat and he gave her a somewhat longing look. "Why don't you go first, darling?"

Molly cleared her throat and tore her eyes from Sherlock's, thinking that if he kept looking at her like that it would cloud the façade of a struggling marriage.

"Well um, I just feel as though things aren't like they were before with us, and that hurts," she said, falling surprisingly easily into the role-play. "There was a time when I thought…I thought we could really be happy together. I don't know where that went. I just, I wish we could get that back somehow."

Sherlock let out a little huff and the other two people looked at him.

"Mr. Scott," Dr. Houghs began gently. "Would you like to express yourself now?"

"I would, yes," Sherlock said in a convincing emotionally charged voice and looked over at Molly. "I'm not sure where the confusion lies, Sarah. You seem mysteriously dissatisfied with everything I do lately. I'm not sure what you expected when we got married, but apparently you believed this would be some sort of fairytale! It's unrealistic!"

Molly was the one to very naturally let out a little huff this time. "I want us to be happy, and that's not unrealistic."

"What you want is some sort of 'white picket fence' life, and I think you should know by now that those don't exist."

Dr. Houghs cut in. "It's understandable that you're both feeling very vulnerable and this is difficult, but try to stick to how you feel instead of making accusatory comments at each other," he said gently. "Mr. Scott, it sounds to me like you feel unappreciated. Is that accurate?"

"Yes, I would say it is," Sherlock said, drawing in a shaky breath and pressing his lips together.

Molly couldn't help feeling a little genuinely indignant. They were playing a married couple and Sherlock was trying to be the victim? Even her imaginary character couldn't stomach it.

"Well, I feel," Molly stated firmly. "That my feelings are not really all that important." She made steely eye contact with Sherlock. "I think all you care about is your work." She could see something twitch in his expression, just a hint of reality poking its way through as her words his a bit too close to home.

Sherlock swallowed hard and clenched his jaw for a moment before narrowing his eyes and responding. "You've known me for years, Sarah, and it was never a secret that my work means the world to me. Is it a shock that I still care about it just as much as I always have?"

"Mrs. Scott, go ahead and honestly express yourself," Dr. Houghs encouraged as he made a couple notes.

Molly took a deep breath. She wondered if she'd ever get a chance like this again. Maybe this was the one time she could say things to Sherlock that she never believed she could in real life. Perhaps there was an upside to a fake counseling session like this. Could be rather cathartic. May as well make the most of the favor she was doing for this idiot…whom she loved so deeply.

"No, it's not a surprise that you love your work," Molly said sincerely, looking into Sherlock's eyes. "But I want you to love me too. I want you to love me, but in a different way. I want you to rush off and solve- er, take care of business at the office whenever you need to. But I also want you to care about me enough to text me. Tell me when you're safe, tell me when you're coming home, tell me when you can't come home quite yet. And I'll understand! I can promise you I will."

Sherlock cleared his throat and seemed to shove himself back into character, or at least, mostly back into character. "I don't believe it'll ever be enough for you, Sarah. Your expectations are too high. What if I can't be the man that you want, hm?"

"That's the problem, right there," Molly said shaking her head and looking back and forth between Sherlock and the counselor. "You think you know what I want, what I need…but you don't. It's you! It's just you! And I don't even expect all of you. I'm not that greedy! I just want my fair share! I just want that little bit of your heart that belongs only to me."

It actually made Molly jump a little as Sherlock pivoted his body to face her and leaned in closer. "You already have it," he said in a passionate and almost angry tone, looking deep into her eyes. "Can't you see that?"

They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, both of their chests rising and falling and staring into each other's eyes, now trying desperately to sift through what was real and pretend. Dr. Hough's voice cut through the weighty silence.

"Mr. and Mrs. Scott, it sounds like you're both a bit misunderstood here. Mrs. Scott just made some excellent expressions about things she feels you're not seeing. Perhaps you'd like to express the same sort of thing to her now, Mr. Scott. What is it that she doesn't understand about you?"

Sherlock blinked and licked his lips, glanced at Molly, glanced away nervously, and then connecting their eyes firmly again. "I thought you always saw me…so very clearly," he whispered. "Even when others didn't."

Molly's heart stopped. This was most definitely not pretend anymore.

"Perhaps you don't know me as well as you think," Sherlock went on. "Do you know what I dream of when I come home after solving a difficult-" He paused. "Day at the office? You. You are always there, infuriatingly so. And in those secret moments, my work is the furthest thing from my mind and heart. You have no idea whatsoever…the sort of things I dream of doing with you," Sherlock whispered low.

Molly's eyes got wider and she felt her cheeks burning.

Sherlock looked away and clenched his jaw again. "But it seems I missed a chance to tell you all that long ago…and then you walked away." He looked back at her with a forlorn expression.

Her jaw dropped a bit. "Sh- William, you walked away," Molly said pointedly. "I realize you had to, but I was left with nothing from you. And no word till you came back."

Dr. Houghs frowned to himself and leaned forward as he spoke to the couple. "Had you gone away for work some time ago, Mr. Scott?"

"Yes," Sherlock answered softly, not taking his eyes from Molly.

"I see," Dr. Houghs said with a nod. "And how long was that trip then?"

"Two bloody years," Molly said through clenched teeth. Both men looked at her with confused expressions, for very different reasons. She cleared her throat. "I mean, um, it just felt like two years."

Sherlock coughed, concealing a small chuckle at Molly's humorous verbal misstep. They made eye contact again and it was obvious they were both a little amused, some humor breaking through the heavy subject matter. There was something else in that glance as well…affection.

"Mr. Scott, you mentioned dreaming of your wife when you return from a long day at work." Dr. Houghs said, returning to Sherlock's earlier statement. "This could certainly be a root cause of discord. Is she normally asleep by the time you arrive home?"

Sherlock's eyes shifted and he had to return more to character. "Um, yes, normally."

Molly surprised him by reaching over and grabbing his hands. "Then wake me," she said fiercely. "I mean it. If you're thinking of me, I want to know."

He looked a little nervous, but curled his fingers around her hands as well. Sherlock also glanced back at the doctor, speaking carefully. "She works a slightly more normal schedule. It seems unfair to disturb her."

"Making time for each other is a struggle in marriage," Dr. Houghs agreed solemnly. "But if you both can't come together and do that, the foundation of your marriage just can't remain strong." He clasped his hands together in his lap, seeming pleased with the true but also potentially discouraging statement.

"William," Molly said, making him turn to her again. "You can't hide these things from me, not anymore. I want us to know each other now; really know each other! And I'd like to start by saying…" Her gaze flitted to his lips momentarily. "I hope you realize that my dreams are the same as yours."

Something came over Sherlock in that moment; her words, the way she was looking at him…her lips. Before he could think twice, he dove forward, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and crashing their mouths together. They both hissed in a breath, the pleasant jolt of the intimate contact rushing through them. Molly instantly buried her fingers in his hair and pulled him in closer, naturally deepening the kiss and causing her to let out a very appreciative sigh.

"Ahem!"

Sherlock and Molly pulled apart, releasing their hold on each other and looking more like teenagers who'd just been caught by the principle, as opposed to a married couple.

"Well," Dr. Houghs said with a quick smile. "It seems you've made some…excellent progress today. This was really just an introduction, so I believe that's enough for this session. But if you'd like to continue meeting, perhaps you can check with my secretary on your way out and see what I have available next week."

Sherlock licked his still tingling lips. "Yes, thank you, Dr. Houghs. We'll certainly do that, won't we darling?"

"Oh yes," Molly agreed, nodding emphatically.

They stood and made their exit, and as they walked out of the room and back down the hall, Sherlock muttered to Molly, "What do you want to bet he's not interested in counseling us anymore?"

"Why?" she whispered back.

"I think for his taste, our progress was a bit…enthusiastic."

Molly let out a little laugh and then covered her mouth as they reached the secretary's desk. The woman stood up and slid a folder across to Sherlock.

"I was able to make copies of some emails from his personal laptop while he was in session with you two," she whispered. "That should be all the proof you need."

Sherlock looked a bit taken aback as he took the folder and stuck it quickly inside his coat. "Ah yes, well…good then. Glad we were able to help." He looked amusingly sheepish. It seemed he ended up being a glorified distraction while his client went about solving their own case. "I'll contact you as soon as possible and let you know what the outcome is."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Holmes," the woman said with a smile.

Sherlock and Molly went down the stairs and stepped back outside into the blustery London air. They stood there for a moment, both of them busily buttoning up their coats and securing their scarves…and hardly knowing what to say to each other now.

It did occur to Molly that perhaps that was all more of an act than she had originally thought. She wondered if they truly did know each other any better than they had a half hour ago when they arrived.

"Suppose I'd better get a cab," Sherlock finally said, and he took a few steps away from the building and toward the street.

Molly hung back for a moment, trying to decide what to do or say before he possibly climbed into a cab and said goodbye.

"Molly?" Sherlock suddenly turned back and addressed her, catching her gaze and attention again. "Are you coming?"

And he extended his hand.