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Mrs. Hudson is a very sweet, older lady. If John hadn't known any better, he would've assumed that Mrs. Hudson is Sherlock's grandmother; she reacted as such when they came to the door. But John did know better. Sherlock explained how he met her and saved her husband's life. John was impressed, but not quite sure why, lawyers are able to stop executions all the time, but Sherlock was different.
Mrs. Hudson was so thrilled to see that Sherlock had found someone to move in with him, although John guessed it's more that Sherlock found a friend than a flatmate. The woman is a sweetheart so it was difficult for John to be all that angry at her for mistaking them as a couple; but perhaps he was more surprised that someone even thought such a thing because he has never been seen as gay before.
"There's another bedroom upstairs, if you'll be needing two bedrooms."
"Well of course we'll be needing two." John said with a confused frown.
"Oh, don't worry, there's all sorts 'round here. Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones." Mrs. Hudson looked completely indifferent like it is a known fact that he and Sherlock are together, and it didn't make a difference to her. John pointedly looked at Sherlock who was avoiding eye contact. Mrs. Hudson started going on about the mess Sherlock made but Johns mind was elsewhere. Well, okay then. He thought to himself, and decided to ignore the assumption and sat down in the nearest chair.
That is until DI Lestrade came in and gave Sherlock a case and had him go running out of the flat like a child on Christmas. Mrs. Hudson shook her head.
"Look at him dashing about." She said and then looked at John with a knowing smile. "My husband was just the same, but you're more the sitting down type, I can tell." Wait, what? "I'll make you that cuppa, you rest your leg."
"DAMN MY LEG!" John burst out, surprising Mrs. Hudson and himself. "Sorry. I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes this bloody thing…" John trailed off. He is more than frustrated with his leg, he is a bit frustrated with being called homosexual, and he is aggravated with Sherlock for running out on him, moving in without letting him know…
"I understand, dear, I've got a hip." Mrs. Hudson soothed.
John sighed and listened as Mrs. Hudson went back into the kitchen. He needs to calm himself down, but his damn leg—and that comment about being with Sherlock.
John looked around the room, hoping for a change in his thought process to make himself relax. It's a nice place, he supposes he could dust a little and organize the bookshelf. He could ask Sherlock to clear some space for his books, it's not like he has that many. John has perhaps two suitcases of clothing and a box of books and pictures. Being in the army, John has not needed more than the shirt on his back and the gun on his hip.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear Sherlock come back up the stairs.
Oh God, yes.
Neither of them saw Mrs. Hudson smile knowingly as they ran out together.
