It was an abnormally calm morning in 221B Baker Street. For once Sherlock hadn't started the day with dramatic violin music, or a chemical explosion, or even with another attempt made on his life disturbing John's sleep and causing an argument that might go on all day if Lestrade or Mycroft doesn't interrupt them with a new case.
John was eating his cornflakes while Sherlock flipped through the newspaper irritably seeking something to occupy his far too big brain. It was then when a white envelope was slid under the door and the soft footsteps pitter-pattered down the steps alerted them.
"What is it?" John asked.
"I assume our new tenancy agreement with Mrs Hudson," Sherlock said as he leaped up and snatched the envelope, "she said she would drop it off soon, and it sounded like her thick-soled slippers on the landing." He ripped the envelope open and read, John's hunger slowly vanished as the more disgusted Sherlock looked. "How dull."
"Oh," John sighed in relief, "nothing terrible, then?"
"Nothing terrible? Nothing terrible?! Listen to this-"
No More shooting: this includes the walls, with criminals, or at each other. And in the drug sense as well.
"Well that's somewhat fair," John said slowly, "you need leave several bullet holes in her wall with a giant smiley face spray-painted on it as well I might add."
"But the criminals, John," Sherlock fumed, "how are we supposed to defend ourselves without shooting them? Use invisible guns? Don't be ridiculous."
"I did say somewhat fair, Sherlock, not entirely fair."
"This rule is your fault! If you never took a shot at me that one time-"
"I was having a bad day!" John protested. "And you didn't help matters by hacking in my laptop when yours was still on your lap!"
"Don't be dull, John, you were hiding something."
"Yes, which means stay out of my stuff Sherlock not nose around."
"Which, if I recall was your pathetic attempt of a password that time," Sherlock muttered, irritated at the stupidity of his flatmate and himself for being incapable of deleting nonsensical crap like that. "Anyway, that's not all Mrs Hudson insists on, this one is terrible-"
No More Explosions: chemical experiments or evil mastermind ones.
"Actually I agree with Mrs Hudson on this one."
"Traitor!"
"What? I like to be able to sleep without being woken up in the middle of the night by one of your experiments gone wrong, or live in a house that doesn't smell like it needs to be fumigated, and if another mastermind criminal tries to strap a bomb jacket on me-"
"Oh don't be so boring, John!"
No More Drug Busts: just give that nice police inspector the evidence, Sherlock dear.
"She has a point, Sherlock."
"Oh, shut up!"
No More Assassins/Criminal Masterminds/Gangsters: it's not good for my nerves and I have no wish to be held hostage again.
"And another point right there."
"I can't help it that they come here, John!"
"It might help if you stopped advertising our address on your website!"
"Hark! Look at the kettle calling the pot black."
"I wasn't the one that announced to the media we've moved back in here. You know they keep hounding my wife for the reason we're getting divorced."
"I don't know why I have to keep repeating myself," Sherlock snapped, "it is not my fault that petty journalists keep implying you left your wife to resume your so called passionate homosexual relationship with me, which by the way, I want nothing part of, if this is how you treated your wife. How am I supposed to prevent them entering? Leave a sign saying: Do Not Enter for the Sake of Our Landlady's Sanity – Send Text Request for Meeting."
"Nah," John said spooning cornflake mush into his mouth, "too lengthy, I think we should just stick to piss off and slamming the door in their face."
Sherlock smirked, "think it would work on Sergeant Donavan?" He made an irritated noise as his eyes glanced down onto the next rule, "now this is just getting ridiculous."
No More Deducing My Guests: I am losing friends because of you.
"She's not the only one," John grumbled, "you do realise none of my colleagues will come over because you scared them off?"
"John, if they are that easily scared, they're not worth it." Sherlock shrugged uncaringly, "besides the important thing is that Mrs Hudson is trying to restrain my nature by forbidding me to do what I do best!"
"What? Being a dick?"
"Deducing, John, deducing. I am a detective! It is my very nature to observe and make deductions on Mrs Hudson's poorly chosen and highly suspicious friends, do remember this woman married a serial killer once!"
"All very well," John conceded, "but in future just don't open your mouth."
"Ha!" Sherlock yelped triumphantly. "Finally something that isn't prejudiced against me!"
No More Girls after 9 PM: the walls and floors aren't that thick.
John blushed and spluttered. It took him quite some time to gather up his senses and create a coherent sentence. "Can you hear me every time?"
"Obviously," Sherlock said, "You are a shouter."
"You've been listening!"
"Not out of choice, do keep up John."
"It's an invasion of privacy!"
"It's an invasion of my privacy when you bring some strange girl to nose through my things."
"That was one time! How was I supposed to know she was a Sherlock fan girl?!"
"It's called observing, John. I agree with Mrs Hudson this rule should be enforced."
"Well I think all the other rules should be enforced."
No More Arguing after 9 PM: again I can hear everything.
"Easily done," Sherlock shrugged, "if you were not so sensitive, John."
"Excuse me?!"
"You heard exactly what I said," Sherlock said coolly, "don't make me repeat myself."
"I'm the sensitive one?!"
Sherlock ignored him in favour of reading the next rule.
No More Fake Deaths: or this time I will throttle you, or so help me God.
"Honestly, you do something once, and no one ever forgets it or lets it go," Sherlock snapped.
"You jumped off a ten story building in front of me, left London for three years, and only had a decency to come back when Moran started shooting all those people!"
"And have I ever tried to fake my death after that?"
"I really wouldn't put it past you."
"Hmmph!"
No More Body Parts or Illegal Experiments: my nerves, my dear, I cannot stand it.
What Sherlock then said (as well as some ominous growling) was so unrepeatable that John was totally entitled to punch him for it.
And finally I Am Not Your Housekeeper and therefore all chores are yours to do.
"Well I suppose it's time to divide the chores up," John sighed, "I know you said you can't distract yourself with the little things when you're on a case but I bet it'll help you think if you did the washing up, or hovered once a week."
Sherlock wasn't even listening to him. He just looked horrified at the piece of paper. "B-b-but who'll bake shortbread?" He asked despairingly. "And make the tea when we have clients? Or dust Yorrick, I can't trust you to dust him properly!"
"Yorrick?"
"The skull John the skull do keep up."
"You named the skull?!"
"Mrs Hudson can't abandon us! What are we going to do without her cleaning and cooking?!"
"We can cook and lean for ourselves," John cried out exasperated.
Sherlock wrapped his blue silk dressing gown round him tightly. "We're doomed," he said dramatically, "dead within a week!"
"You're being a drama queen," John rolled his eyes.
"We can't survive without Mrs Hudson," Sherlock stated, "and listen to this -"
IF RULES ARE NOT OBEYED IMMEDIATE EXPLUSION OF THE PROPERTY 221B BAKER STREET WILL BE DEEMED PROPER PUNISHMENT.
"Ah…" John said struggling to find the words.
"She expects us to stick to a set of stupid rules and if we don't, that's it!" Sherlock exploded. "When we first came back she was so smothering I thought I was living with my mother again! And now she is threatening to throw us out as if we're nothing but rubbish? John…I think she's found new tenants."
"Now you're being ridiculous," John said feeling a headache coming, "I am sure that Mrs Hudson is only bluffing in hopes of reigning in your incredible ability to cause mayhem and explosions."
"Do you really think so?"
"Of course, like you said she was happy for us to come back, and for the first couple weeks wouldn't let us out of her sight," John said calmly, trying desperately to reassure Sherlock, "she wouldn't just throw us out."
"Do you want to test that?"
"What do you mean?"
"These rules are ridiculous and nonsensical, I am sure you agree," Sherlock said scrunching the paper up into a ball and throwing it over his shoulder, "so shall we break each and every one of them?"
"Oh God, yes."
They were kicked out within a week.