Just Within Your Reach

Mrs. Hudson - Six

Here is your surprise chapter. I did two chapters tonight. This one, and the one before. Figured you earned it, as I haven't posted in a while.

Martha Louise Hudson never would have thought she'd have to sit down with an ex-army doctor, and tell him that having PTSD was normal. She never would have thought she'd have to look at the ex-army doctor and see how desperately in love he was with his best friend. Never would she have thought she'd see how in love his best friend was with him.

But, that's what she got for housing Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

She loved Sherlock and John, she couldn't deny that, but having those two be so in love and not realize it, was devastating.

She would hear them fight a lot, and she would often hear Sherlock's violin. She could hear John storm up the stairs whenever something got to be too much.

But never in her time that they had lived there, had she heard a fight this big.

" I don't care if you go, Sherlock, but you can't just say something like that and walk out!"

"I can damn well do what ever the bloody hell I want," the violin started.

"NO!" John's voice echoed down the stairs. "You are not going to play that thing and shut me out!"

She heard the sound of the violin being taken from Sherlock, and then she heard the normal - well, for her at least - gun shot, that meant Sherlock had gone for the gun to shoot the wall rather than hurt John in any way.

She sighed, knowing she would have to go up there and patch the wall up. Again.

It was about every other week she would have to patch that wall up, now.

"Bloody fucking hell, Sherlock. Quit shooting the god dam wall! " John's voice echoed.

"Why are you so worried about it in the first place?" She heard another crash. There goes the table, she thought.

"Maybe because other people live around here?" John shouted.

Others did live around them, but they too had grown so used to the fights and the loud noises and the occasional gun shots, that they no longer complained.

Mrs. Hudson stood after a moment, and busied herself with making two cups of tea. There was one thing she always told the boys, "I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper", but she loved those boys.

As she finished the second cup, the boys' voices rose again.

"Sherlock, I swear to God, you can't just assume who it is!" John's voice made it's way down. Mrs. Hudson shook her head, and laid the cups on one of her silver trays.

They were the only thing the boys - especially Sherlock - knew they couldn't touch. It was one of the only family heirlooms she still owned.

She carefully maneuvered her way up the stairs, and pushed the door open that led into the main room of the flat.

Both men were glaring at each other, both tense and angry.

"I made you some tea, Dears." She said, and John turned, his face calming. She saw him paste on a smile, and then he walked over to her. She handed him one of the cups, and he took a small drink, before he grimaced.

Sherlock strode over, and took the cup, lifting it, and smelling it. "Can't you do anything right? John hates sugar in his drinks," Sherlock bit out.

Martha Hudson was used to the words he would bite in anger, or the way he would stride when he was upset. She was used to it, but it still put pressure on her chest when words like that left his mouth.

She smile slightly, "I must have forgotten. I'm sorry," Sherlock looked up at her. Martha was never one to apologize to the two boys, and Sherlock must have realized his mistake.

"I'm...I shouldn't have said that, Mrs. Hudson." She supposed that was the closest to an actual, "I'm sorry" from him. She pressed the other cup into John's hands.

"I must have gotten them mixed up," John smiled at her.

She took the now empty tray and made her way to the door.

"Is there anything to eat?" She heard Sherlock ask. She didn't turn around, but threw the same answer she always had over her shoulder.

"I'm your landlady, not your housekeeper."