Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Character/Pairing: Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock
Challenge/Prompt: holmes_minor: Transformation
Word Count: 500
Date Written: 17 April 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Doyle, not the author, and are used without permission.
She sits and stares at the glass across from hers in the late night hour. The tea is untouched, as it is every year on this date and has been for longer than the aging woman cares to remember. In the daylight hours, she can pretend she’s having the time of her life being single again and that she doesn’t miss her husband. The old codger was a pain, but he was her pain, and it’s a pain now that she sorely misses.
She sighs wearily as music screeches through the night. She can not find it in her tonight to even hit the ceiling with her broomstick and screech over Sherlock’s noise to tell him that noone with any respect for one’s own self or one’s neighbor would be making such a caterwauling racket at this hour of the night. She’s been up all night herself, and she knows the detective has not been too long come home.
Home. That is still this place, isn’t it? Mrs. Hudson muses as she looks about her and blinks through the tears filling her eyes. For the longest time, it’s felt like she was just existing here, just moving from one day to the next without her partner in love and in life, but this little house, such as it is, is still a home.
She sniffles as Sherlock hits another note. Somehow, his attempt at music no longer seems quite as catastrophic. It has a long way to go before anyone will ever consider it beautiful, but it is a welcome noise that pierces the otherwise calm night. Another night spent alone, she thinks, but one she doesn’t have to spend alone, just as she doesn’t have to waste perfectly good tea. She raises and heads for her tenant, who has become more than just a tenant. He might not welcome the intrusion, but she needs the distraction.
The music stops as she’s heading up the stairs, and the landlady almost changes her mind, turns around, and rushes back down to her own part of the house. Almost, but she doesn’t. Sherlock, she knows though he’ll never admit it, is lonely too, and there’s perfectly good sense in two lonely people keeping each other companionship. She keeps walking, and before she can find a way to knock on his closed door with her hands full, he opens the door before her.
“Missus Hudson.” She’s greeted with a smile so warm that some of the coldness of the night seems to fade from around her.
“Sherlock, I thought you could use some tea.”
“Thank you. Do come in.” She’s astounded that he actually sweeps her into his apartment, but why not? she wonders a moment later as they sit and sip in silence. Perhaps he does need the tea, but they can both use the companionship rather they wish to admit it or not. God knows she does. She needs a friend, and that, she realizes, is why He sent her Sherlock.