Sherlock says he's married to Molly as part of an undercover role for a case, but someone overhears, takes it as literal and spreads it to the papers. (Sherlolly)
So Nonny, your fic ended up becoming a multipart fic that I picked to write for @simplyshelbs16xoxo to cheer her up. I will try really really hard to update this more frequently than I do most of my fics, I swear! But for now, here is Part 1 with Sherlock and Mary, setting up the “fake marriage being spread to the papers as a real marriage” part.”
It Can Be As Real As You Or I (Part 1/?) - At the very beginning of a case to help Janine, it comes out that the very eligible and spectacular stud in the bedroom Sherlock Holmes has married local specialist registrar, Dr. Molly Hooper. Which would be fine and all, except it’s a fake marriage. That Sherlock wants to make real by the end of the case. But Kitty Riley’s constant hounding of him throughout the case, turning every tidbit she hears (always out of context) into tabloid fodder, is going to make that virtually impossible, he fears…though he might very well be surprised himself.
“So she’s agreed?” Mary asked, sipping her tea at the cafe that she and Sherlock were sitting at. He supposed that she dragged him out in public so that they both had some semblance of a social life, though he didn’t mind too much. Truth be told he quite enjoyed her company, whether he was using her as a partner in case solving or helping her take care of Rosie or anything, really. It was a bit different these days, but he supposed that was to be expected after the incident at the aquarium where she had almost lost her life.
John had been so filled with grief, so sure he was going to lose her, and they had stood there, and then he had snapped out of it, the way John had snapped him out of it with the young guard in the showers, gotten down to the business of saving Mary’s life. Admittedly it had been touch and go for a time; the shot had not been nearly as neat as Mary’s own shot to him had been, and there had been more than one moment where they had thought they might lose her. But Mary had things worth fighting for, and she was tough, strong. She clawed her way back.
Things came out then, things he had deduced but not mentioned. The woman on the bus, the late night texting. John was so sorry, so very sorry and Mary gave him another chance, and it seemed all was well. Mycroft had found someone who could be trusted to hear it all, Mary’s backstory and the secrets John knew, and they were working through things, their feelings about the entire situation of their lives, together and apart. And he was glad for his friends. If anyone deserved happiness, of all people, it was them.
If only his own life would go as well in that department, he supposed.
Janine had reached out to him for help. While she had settled down for a less extravagant life, it seemed as though not everyone was willing to let her association with Magnussen go, and she was being harassed rather viciously by someone both online and at her cottage. She worried for her new husband’s safety as well as that of her unborn child, and she asked him for help. She had, surprisingly, been hesitant to ask, but he had said he owed her, for what he had done to her. Her revenge had not been nearly bad enough to hurt him the way he had hurt her; if anything, it had given him a reputation that most men would envy and benefited her in the bargain.
In the process, though, he had found out her husband was not all he had seemed. Not in a bad way, thankfully; she did not need to be hurt more by having him be a bastard. It had simply turned out he was a member of the Royal family who did not know, but there were those who wanted to exploit this position and his position as a high-ranking executive in an export company to their advantage. To do that, he needed to move among the crowd Janine moved in. As she was married now, he could not go as her paramour. And this was not the type of crowd you brought a casual lover to.
You brought a wife.
And Molly Hooper had agreed to pose as his.
Sherlock nodded. “As of yesterday, Molly is now Molly Holmes, my legal wife.” He picked up his coffee and took a sip. “Neither of us wanted to make a big fuss, really. Which I apologize for, but…”
“Rob me of the chance to be matron of honour,” Mary said, reaching over and slapping his shoulder. “After you were best man and damn near groomzilla at my wedding, Sherlock.”
He chuckled slightly and then shrugged. “Perhaps there will be another chance at–” He broke off when the person at the table next to them abruptly pushed away, scurrying off. He turned and watched but the crowd at the cafe made it damn near impossible to catch anything other than a glimpse of the person who left. He couldn’t even tell if the person had been male or female. Shaking his head, he turned back to Mary. “We depart tomorrow morning to Essex and we’ll be staying there as Janine’s guests while I nose around there and here in London when I have time.”
Mary nodded. “So John and Rosie and I will not be completely devoid of your company?” she asked with a smile, tilting her head.
“Of course not,” he said. “I would never deny my best mate and my favourite women of my presence.”
“Your favourite women other than Molly,” Mary said, her grin turning into a smirk.
Sherlock began to get uncomfortable under her gaze. “Yes, well…”
“Are you going to survive this case, I wonder, with your singlehood intact?” Mary asked innocently, picking up her drink and taking a sip.
“Shove off,” Sherlock muttered, glaring at her and having more of his coffee. To be honest, he’d rather have asked anyone other than Molly. Not because he didn’t like Molly, or trust Molly, or think Molly was competent.
No, not at all.
But because his relationship with Molly had been rather…muddled…since John and Mary’s wedding, and become moreso over time. He was responsible for the end of her engagement, after all, and their relationship wasn’t quite as platonic as Mary and everyone else believed, and as fake as this marriage was?
He had rather hoped he could convince her to make it real by the end of the case.
He just hoped nothing spoiled his carefully set plans in the meantime.