Chapter 35-Games

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"You look tired," Dr. Samantha Ryan made her observation out loud to Molly.

Molly, in turn, gave a cheeky smile and yawned. Indeed she was tired, but it was well worth it.

The previous day had seen her fitted with her ankle monitor. Director Vance had given instructions to her in regards to her new accessory and told her that along with Dinozzo and David that both Tom and Vance, himself, would be monitoring her. If she went out of bounds, they would know. If she moved, they would know. If she went to the bathroom, basically, they would know. If she tried to remove the confounded piece of technology, they would know.

If Vance was surprised by Molly's lack of reaction he did not show it. She just looked at him with a deadened expression and after her conversation with her pompous brother-in-law he could not blame her for the low spirits. He hoped this meant that she would cooperate. His hopes were unfounded.

The rest of the day Molly threw herself into reading the book her father had brought for her. Without any of her things she would have been stuck in a room with nothing but her thoughts, which were not of the most pleasant variety at the moment. Gibbs, knowing that his daughter had trouble when there was nothing for her to do in the past, had brought her the book in hopes of helping her during her confinement. He had borrowed the book on forensic psychology from Ducky. It had been a perfect choice for Molly, who admired Ducky for his secondary degree and found the topic more than a little interesting. With her background and her assisting Sherlock with his cases at times she felt that the knowledge she added at this time would at least be useful. Perhaps she could even start working on a new paper if the fancy struck her.

The other agents were cautious with Molly the rest of the day. Abby, however, always being the exception of the rule, threw her arms around the redheaded pathologist before giving her a scolding. Molly tried to keep up with the whirlwind that was Abby, who at one moment was telling her that if Molly had not been pregnant than she would have hit her and the next was gushing about how she loved the new haircut. In between thoughts she fussed at the pregnant woman and told her that she could not worry them like that. She ended her monologue with another hug and then was out the door for the night.

Once they were in the car Tony lost his cautiousness and chose to once again broach the mystery that was Molly's marriage. He even had the audacity to ask if John and Sherlock had ever been an item after doing his own research on the net. Molly was unimpressed and told Tony to ask Sherlock or John about it if he ever met them. The conversation finally ended with a Princess Bride quote, "You didn't say it; you didn't do it," and a thoroughly annoyed Molly. Just because she agreed after the fact did not make her marriage to Sherlock any less real. Sure it was not the most conventional, but surely a marriage by proxy was legit if both parties agreed.

Molly made dinner that night as she often did, more for the sake of something to do more than anything else. Tony wondered if it was safe to eat with everything that happened that day. Molly just smiled sweetly, unnerving Tony in the process, knowing that her revenge would be coming later that night and that it had nothing to do with food.

The second part of her growing up years had been spent with brothers, brothers who knew how to play pranks. There had been a prank war at one time, but once it had gotten out of control their parents had set up some rules. No one was to be hurt, no property was to be permanently damaged, and no more pranks on teachers. The last one had almost been no more pranks at school but the twins were masters at negotiations. With both the twins and Molly in the same school year there had been some interesting times. The twins' secret weapon had been Molly, as no one expected foul play from the timid girl who mostly spoke only to her brothers.

And so it was with her love and education of pranks coupled with guidelines from her youth to prevent anything really bad from occurring and Vance's instructions on how the anklet system worked that she set her plan in motion.

She waited until both agents were sleeping the first time she snuck out. She had not been informed about how far she could go before tripping the system and she was curious to know. Apparently she could not go outside of the building. Vance made a call having been alerted at 1:13 a.m. of Molly's first transgression.

At 1:45 a.m. Molly decided to see how far she could get before they caught her. Still having a bit of cash she ordered a cab to see if she could make it out before they got her. Once she saw the cab waiting downstairs she sprinted as quickly as her pregnant body would allow her. This time she made it out and into the cab. She smiled and waved out the back window at a grumpy looking Tony who was dressed only in his boxers and a Ziva who had murder written on her face. Molly only had the driver go around a few blocks before dropping her back off and was almost back up the stairs before the disgruntled agents caught up with her since they had attempted to follow in Tony's car. Tony had given her a sarcastic laugh and told her that it was very funny before putting his pillow on the floor and going to lie outside the girls' room. He did not want another angry call from the director.

This was no problem for Molly since the door opened in. At 2:30 she quietly opened the door and stepped over the snoring man. This time she only went as far as the trip before turning around and going straight back. This time the director did not call. This time Tony laid down inside the room in front of the door.

Molly had been prepared for eventually being unable to leave. She took the butter knife she had stashed away and slid it under the anklet and wedged it so that it would trip the alarm once more. Ziva and Tony jumped when both their alarms went off again at 3:22 a.m. Ziva proclaimed that she was going to kill that little British brat and was then answered with Molly's giggles. Tony threw his pillow at her head. She tried to return it but he refused and sat up against the door and insisted that he would remain awake the rest of the night if necessary. However, Tony had acquired the skill of sleeping anywhere and in any position, so once Molly heard the snores the knife made its appearance once more. At 4:17 Ziva had had enough.

"That is it! Tony where are your handcuffs?" Ziva cried out getting out of bed. She practically jumped on the unsuspecting Molly and ripped the bedcovers off looking for the offending item that was allowing her to trip the system. Molly was caught red-handed with the knife in hand. Even Tony, the pranking king, had had enough and went to retrieve some cuffs he had in his bedroom.

"You can't be serious," Molly said with wide eyes as Tony approached her with a displeasing set of handcuffs as if he had serious intent to cuff her.

"I am serious," he snapped, "I'm serious about sleep."

"What if I promise not to do it again?" she wheedled.

"Why did we not extract that promise before, Tony?" Ziva asked tiredly.

"I don't trust your promises at the moment," he said taking a step closer to the pathologist who was now standing on her bed and had backed herself into the corner.

There was a knock on the door and Tony let out a couple of choice curses guessing that it could only be the director. He followed Ziva who made it to the door before Tony did.

"Ahh, Director, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" Tony still retained his sense of dry humor even with his lack of sleep.

"Do you want to tell me why I'm here when it is almost five a.m.?" the director angrily directed at his agents.

"Oh Molly!" Tony cried out sweetly, "I think it's for you."

Molly came out and for her credit she had a slight blush on her face. Perhaps she had taken the joke a little too far. "Good evening director," she managed to say with her half smile before biting down on her bottom lip.

"I think you mean good morning," came Vance's disgruntled reply.

"Sleep well?" Molly coquettishly asked him.

Tony snorted as the director responded. "Could have had a better night's sleep. Any recommendations?" He decided to play her game for the moment.

"I know I would sleep better if this ankle bracelet were to be removed...maybe that would work for you too?" Molly posed her question.

Vance rubbed his forehead with one hand. "Not. Going. To. Happen," he finally ground out each word. "You can't keep this up forever. It's not good for the baby."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not really doing anything tomorrow. I can catch up on my sleep. I did think this through a tad. How about if I behave myself for a week we can take the wretched thing off and consider it even? I was disciplined, learned my lesson, and after a week we go back to normal?"

"Behave for a week and we'll review the need for the monitor," came the diplomatic answer.

"All that means is that I behave and then you find a diplomatic answer for why I will still be wearing the confounded thing. I want a guarantee it will come off."

Vance glared at her, "This is not a negotiation."

"It is if you want to sleep this week." Suddenly, what had started off as a harmless prank had escalated into war proceedings. Molly had not meant to let it get this far. She had been spending too much time with the Holmes men and political intrigues. However, she refused to back down now that the proverbial gauntlet had been thrown.

"I say we just handcuff her at night," Ziva finally spoke up.

"We are not handcuffing her, plus I doubt it would stop her, am I right Doctor?" Vance responded to the suggestion.

Molly nodded and smiled in a way that she thought would make Sherlock proud.

Vance sighed, and rubbed his eyes with the forefinger and thumb of his right hand. "You and I will have negotiations after you talk with Dr. Ryan. Depending on your performance we will see what we come up with. Keep in mind that you have to pass her screening to be readmitted into working in the morgue once more. I suggest you think long and hard about what you really want in your remaining time here Mrs. Holmes."

Molly smiled and blushed at hearing the sound of her name of choice and gave Leon Vance an admission. "If you keep calling me, Mrs. Holmes, it may help your situation." She gave a yawn. "I'm a bit tired. I'm going to head off to bed," she said as if it was a normal time for such statement.

A few short hours later and everyone included in the fiasco, with the exemption of Tom who had paid Molly's antics no mind, was at the NCIS office for the day. Abby had visited Molly before Dr. Ryan had arrived and commended her at her deviousness but scolded her about getting proper rest for the baby. Abby had taken to being the over protective self-proclaimed aunty who had chosen to make it her personal mission to ensure the health of the unborn Holmes sproglet. While Molly appreciated someone to gush over the baby and bring her own spirits up, she also feared the wrath of the usually loving scientist and promised to take better care of herself and Baby Locklet as Abby had taken to calling the child.

Molly had survived facing Abby but now she was having to face Dr. Samantha Ryan who happened to possess a sharp deductive reasoning of her own. She had commented on Molly's current state before shuffling around some notes and looking them over.

Molly fidgeted in her seat. She knew the woman must have been moving the papers for show. She was showing Molly that she had done her research and Molly unconsciously tried to lean closer to get a peak at what the woman had on her.

As she leaned over a bit further the doctor looked up and smiled at her. "I'm sure you're curious about what I have here."

Molly leaned back and crossed her arms. "That's a bit of an obvious observation," Molly snorted and tried to dismiss the woman's presence as inconsequential.

"I have been talking to your co-workers and Director Vance in order to better help you since you were quite unhelpful last time. Is there anywhere you would like to start?"

"I'm under the impression that you're here just to clear me for morgue duty," Molly spoke with a lack of inflection.

"That's true but there are some things that Director Vance would like for me to touch on while I'm here."

"Of course," Molly spoke airily.

The two women observed each other for a moment. Molly had now placed her hands under the table where Dr. Ryan could no longer see them. Dr. Ryan leaned forward while her arms were folded on the conference table that separated the two women.

"How is you're pregnancy going? Director Vance says that he talked to your doctor yesterday and he says that you're fairly healthy but a little under weight."

Molly was not surprised that the director had called House to check on her alibi. From Dr. Ryan's calm statement it seemed as if House had played along and had not given anything away.

"The pregnancy is fine as far as I can tell. I still get sick from time to time. This baby is a Holmes so figures it would be picky about what I eat." Molly smiled softly as she meant her words with no malice but with soft affection. She rubbed her belly absently.

"It seems you've had a lot of extra stress to deal with since the beginning of the pregnancy."

Molly shrugged. So far the questions were not threatening but basic check up questions. It did not mean she would let her guard down. Training, from days long ago, found their way to the forefront of her mind. She could hear a younger Mary Watson's voice cautioning her about the dangers of getting too comfortable with people who sought information. That voice warned that anyone was a potential threat.

With no verbal answer forthcoming Dr. Ryan plowed on. "I know the pregnancy was a bit of a surprise, but may I ask, had you and your husband been trying for a baby?"

"Surely you've done your research," Molly said tiredly. "It would have been irresponsible for my husband and I to actively try to conceive at this time...honestly I...wasn't ever planning on having kids. Not really," she admitted softly.

"And how are you feeling now that you are having a child?" Dr. Samantha's questions stayed safely bland.

Molly scrunched up her eyebrows and shook her head as if to give a negative review of the question. She then gave a sigh and answered, "Umm...I don't know. I'm a bit terrified...I guess."

"Terrified of what exactly?"

Molly shifted in her seat and rolled her eyes. "My...husband," she hesitated, "well, our lifestyle is a bit...unconventional."

"You hesitated when you called him you're husband. Is it because of what you're brother-in-law said yesterday or is it because you are unsure of how he will react to the pregnancy?"

Molly made a noise of disgust and pressed at her eyes with the heals of her hands as she exclaimed, "Oh my gosh. Ugh." She gave another sigh and opened her eyes to face her tormentor. "Okay, whatever." She tapped her fingers on the table and bit down on her upper lip with her bottom teeth before finally answering knowing this woman was not going to go away until she had answers. Molly resolved to answer with as few intimate details as she could but give enough information to satisfy the woman in front of her. "This all stays between you and me? There are laws in this country about patient doctor confidentiality, are there not?"

"Unless there is a danger to this institution or yourself it will stay in here." Dr. Samantha Ryan inwardly congratulated herself at seemingly breaking Molly down. Molly's exhaustion and lack of patience had been useful to her.

"So, Sherlock and I started seeing each other seriously last year. We were engaged but unbeknownst to me he had marriage papers drawn up that were made mostly legal by Mycroft's signing of them. As long as I don't contest them it's pretty legal. He did so as a precaution in case something would happen to him...he wanted me to be taken care of. He was on a dangerous case...it didn't go to well."

"Are you referring to the case he took with Mr. Magnussen?" Dr. Ryan prodded.

Molly wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes in suspicion as she dragged out a reluctant yes.

"Your husband murdered Mr. Magnussen, did he not?"

Molly gave a huff of exasperation. "It was more of an execution."

"So you back your husband's actions?"

"Magnussen was a monster. Sherlock did the world a favor." Molly felt no need to deny what had happened since the woman in front of her was already educated on what had transpired.

"How were his actions received?"

"He was going to be sent away on a mission to atone for his...misdeeds. A mission that would have ended in his death."

"Were you pregnant at that point or aware of your marital status?"

"Okay...just let me finish summing up so we can be done with this wretched exercise. He came and told me what happened. One thing led to another and having only one night together I ended up pregnant. The next day my apartment was blown up while I was out. Sherlock was brought back to deal with Moriarty. My death was faked. I found out we were married in a letter. A couple weeks later I was sent here without my knowledge or consent. I found out I was pregnant. I haven't talked to my husband in almost three months and my brother-in-law is threatening me. Have I left anything out?"

"I'm sure you have. You delivered that speech quite smoothly with absolutely no emotion. Are you disassociating on purpose?" Dr. Ryan asked with curiosity and slight confusion.

Molly shrugged.

"Okay that brings us up to date on the basics but I do have some specific questions for you."

Molly interrupted before Samantha could ask her first question. "Again, I was under the impression that this session's reason was solely for the purpose of ascertaining whether or not I am fit to return to working in the morgue."

"It is," assured the doctor. "In order to do that I need to know what your mental state is like and that, of course, is affected by your experiences. When Molly kept staring at a spot on the table and gave no move to argue Dr. Ryan made to begin her questions. "Who is Elena?"

"Family matter. Next question," Molly answered shortly.

"Your...co-workers feared you had a seizure yesterday. I have also witnessed your eyes moving in an unnatural pattern. Do you have a history of epilepsy?"

Molly sighed. "No. Next ques-"

"Not finished here yet. You are aware of what I'm talking about. Please explain."

"I'm sometimes overwhelmed by external stimuli or being introduced to new situations." It was true enough. Not exactly related, but Molly knew the lessons Mary had taught her in telling truths in the wrong place to avoid outright lying.

Dr. Ryan narrowed her eyes and recognized the slight deflection. "Do you think this is related to your autism?"

Molly kept looking at the table, "Probably," she replied simply.

"Molly," the psychologist started, "I need to know if you are fit and nothing you are giving me tells me about how you're really doing. I need you tell me more if I'm to sign you off. Keep in mind you ran off just a few days ago. So, in your own opinion should you return to the morgue and why?"

Molly gave yet another sigh, "I thought you deduced better than that."

"I doubt you have any interest in my deductions Mrs. Holmes," a cocky smirk slipped on the confident woman's face. "I, however, am interested in what you are thinking and why you ran after meeting me."

"It wasn't you, if that's what you're thinking," Molly's eyes slid up to meet the counselor's before sliding back down again. Her fingers twitched in agitation but she brought them up to rest on her abdomen. "I was overwhelmed with everything." She lifted one hand and waved it around to emphasize her point. She brought her hand down and used it to push phantom hair behind her ear before using the same arm to lean her head upon. "I feel trapped here. I don't like it. I'm pretty much a prisoner and I needed to get away to breathe...think."

"And prove a point?" Samantha asked with one eyebrow raised.

"And what would that be?"

"I think you wanted to prove that you are not to be underestimated."

Molly frowned in response. Mary had taught her to keep that a secret and use it as a weapon. Yet, she was showing off when she snuck out. She did not mind if Gibbs and his team knew but she felt uneasy about this woman discovering such a thing. "I guess," Molly finally said nonchalantly. "I'm...not exactly this weak empty headed woman people think I am."

"You're tired of people seeming to think this of you. Does your husband have this opinion of you?"

"No! Of course not," Molly's words wavered on the last word and she ran her hand through her cropped hair. "I can handle working in the morgue. It helps me have something to do. It's hard for me to just sit still. I'm well seasoned in my field and it gives me a sense of normalcy that I am unable to get anywhere else at the moment. It's familiar and safe, to answer your previous question. If I ever felt that I was a danger to the work I would pull myself off work detail."

"I see that you are reading a couple of books to keep busy this week," the doctor seemed to change gears and zeroed in on Molly's borrowed book and her e-reader. "May I ask what you're reading?"

Molly showed her the psychology book and told her that she was reading Peter Pan. Dr. Ryan ferreted the information away but was unsurprised by the reading choices.

"One last thing I need to know about and no games. How do you know about PsyOps?"