Originally published 2014 September 14 on AO3, but forgot to post here too. Apparently I'm doing another of these [221b] things.+
Translation now in Czech, available on this site at s/10944893
No one knows that Martha Hudson is dead. To be fair, she's learned how to control her environment so well, not even Sherlock has noticed. Which is more than fine, as it gives her the brilliant opportunity to partake in her favourite pastime without the risk of getting caught: spying on her residents, both enjoying and being frustrated by the way her two idiots danced around each other so seamlessly and so obviously.
It's why she knows long before any of their friends or family when and how they got together. She was there that night, floating alongside the bright yellow smiley face (it made her happy) when John handing Sherlock a cuppa brought the man out of one of his strange trances. Apropos of nothing, as he opened his eyes and curled his fingers around the mug, the genius said "I love you".
They both seemed so startled by this sudden confession, particularly Sherlock, as if he'd only just realised it then, that it sent Martha into a fit of giggles so strong that she lost control and fell through the walls and floor back into her own flat. When she finally got herself back together and back up into her boys' sitting room, she found herself entranced by the rather lovely sight of a pale, plush, bouncing bum.
FIN
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