Mrs. Hudson was unnaturally pale. She looked like she'd just seen a ghost - which, in her mind, she had. Her eyes wandered from Sherlock to Ainsley to John and back again, widening with each glance. Sherlock briefly wondered if she was going to faint.

"It's alright, Mrs. Hudson," he soothed gently. "I'm here."

"That's the point, Sherlock," John reminded him through gritted teeth. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Oh- oh my... What... What in Heaven's name is going on?" she breathed, placing a hand over her heart.

"I can explain everything," Sherlock promised. "Trust me." The old woman jumped, as if she'd just realized that a supposedly dead man was talking to her. She looked woozier than ever.

"Perhaps someone should get her a chair?" Ainsley suggested, concern etched on her face. Mrs. Hudson seemed nice enough, but was obviously a bit more frail than John. So clearly, the shock of a ghost in her building would be hard to handle. Without waiting for a response, she ushered the landlady onto the couch and offered her her own untouched cup of tea.

"Thank you, dearie," Mrs. Hudson gulped, not taking her eyes off of Sherlock. Suddenly, she started, turning to look Ainsley in the eye. "Who on Earth are you?"

"Um, my name is Ainsley and I'm Sherlock's girlfriend," she explained briefly. "But we can get into all that later."

"But- but... But you can't be his girlfriend! Sherlock's dead!" the woman protested stubbornly. Ainsley exchanged a glance with her boyfriend.

"Not exactly," she responded, biting her lip nervously. The stress of moving to a different country was beginning to wear on her and she wasn't sure if she could cope with another big reveal, especially after John's explosive reaction. After all, there wasn't exactly a handbook for this sort of thing. "He, um, didn't actually jump off the roof of that building."

"But John saw him," Mrs. Hudson insisted. "John wouldn't lie to me."

"Yes, well..." Ainsley glanced at John and Sherlock for help. When neither of them stepped in to enlighten the old woman, she decided to take matters into her own hands. "Maybe it would be easier if Sherlock told you," she finished.

"He's dead!"

"Mrs. Hudson, it would serve you well to keep quiet until I have informed you of all the facts," Sherlock deadpanned. Mrs. Hudson shut up immediately.

"As Ainsley said, I did not actually commit suicide," he continued. "You are, however, completely correct that John would not lie to you. In fact, until about two minutes ago, he too was under the impression that he had watched me throw myself off of the roof of St. Bart's Hospital.

"In reality, what he saw was a mere decoy. While you all believed me to be dead, I was really in Scotland taking down the last of Moriarty's colleagues. During this time, I met Ainsley, who, as you can see, is here with me now. Any questions?" Mrs. Hudson stared up at him in awe, her expression switching from one of anger to one of joy.

"How?" she finally blurted. He groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Irrelevant," he dismissed. "If you really must know, ask John. He should be able to tell you the details."

"Sherlock," John scolded. "It's a perfectly reasonable question."

"And it's a perfectly reasonable answer," he shrugged. "At the moment, we have far more interesting things to discuss. For example, what state is 221C in?"

"That's more important than how you faked your own death?" John demanded incredulously. Sherlock frowned.

"Of course," he said. "Ainsley needs to know what it's like if she's going to be living there."

"She's going to be living here?!" John shouted without thinking.

"Where would you prefer her to go, the streets?"

"Well- but- I mean..." John couldn't think of what to say. It was illogical to be this flustered, of course, but 221 Baker Street was always his, Sherlock's, and Mrs. Hudson's place. He couldn't imagine Ainsley fitting in.

"It's really just a suggestion; I'll probably find another place anyways," Ainsley backtracked, embarrassed to be causing such a feud.

"Don't be silly. The rent here is considerably lower than the rest of the flats in this area and Mrs. Hudson will doubtlessly enjoy your company. Besides, you can't be too far away if you're going to help with the cases."

"The- the cases?" John uttered emotionlessly.

"Obviously she's going to be helping us from now on," Sherlock sneered.

"Right. Yeah. How could I forget," John muttered. "She's your girlfriend."

"Yes. She is."

A tense silence followed, interrupted only by Mrs. Hudson's shallow breaths. It was quickly becoming clear that John and Sherlock would never again be JohnandSherlock. There would forever be a barrier between them; a layer of broken trust. And Sherlock, typically oblivious to anything remotely social, probably wouldn't even try to bridge that gap. To him, it was simply a natural change. It would never occur to him that he had done something particularly hurtful by letting someone into their sacred routine.

"Look, John, no need for you to get your knickers in a twist," Ainsley tried again. "Not only is your jealousy ridiculous-"

"I'm not jealous!"

"-it is also completely unnecessary. Great as all that... living here stuff sounds, I have a sister. And a cat. And I'm sure a building like this is no-pets, so..."

"Please, Mrs. Hudson doesn't have enough of a backbone to ban pets. Besides, she used to have a cat."

"H-how could you know that?" Mrs. Hudson whimpered. "We've only just met!"

"I. Am. Sherlock," Sherlock insisted through gritted teeth. "Please do try to keep up."

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. "I know I'm being silly, I just can't believe that this all is happening. It's like I don't even know you." He stopped and spun around to face her.

"I know you, Mrs. Hudson," he said softly. "Martha Louise Hudson, 75 years old, five feet and 2 1/2 inches tall. Maiden name: Coleman. Born in Leicestershire, England, but moved to Florida with your now-deceased husband, Jeremy Derek Hudson. He committed a series of crimes, so despicable that I will not remind you of them. For this, I helped to ensure he was killed by electric chair. After his death you moved back to England and acquired the building of 221 Baker Street. You moved into flat A and started renting out flats B and C. In 2010, I phoned you and found that both were unoccupied. I promptly moved into 221B with Dr. John Watson, at a discounted rate due to my previous assistance to you."

Mrs. Hudson froze, her eyes going wide and glistening with unshed tears. Her chin wobbled dangerously and Sherlock prepared himself for the waterworks. Surprisingly, he didn't even mind when she dissolved into happy sobs and wrapped her frail arms around his neck. She was the closest thing to a true mother figure in his life and it felt nice to be loved. Besides, it was certainly better than John's greeting.

"Oh, Sherlock," she blubbered. "You silly boy... What were you thinking, leaving us like that?" He didn't try to explain, instead letting her continue to scold him. "I must have cried for months... Don't you ever do anything like that again!"

"I'm happy to say I have no plans to," he assured her. "I see myself at Baker Street for quite a long time." Mrs. Hudson pulled away from him slightly, smiling proudly up at him.

"And you've got yourself a girlfriend," she gushed. "And such a pretty woman, too. She seems very, very sweet."

"Does she?" he asked. "Then I assume you'll have no problem with her moving in downstairs." John frowned sullenly and Ainsley bit her lip.

"Honestly, we don't have to do this now-"

"Oh, I'd be delighted!" Mrs. Hudson burst out. "It'll be wonderful to have some women around. Oh, I'd better start getting it all fixed up for you! Not that I'm your housekeeper, of course. It will just be this one time." She bustled out of the room, but not before planting a firm kiss on Sherlock's cheek. "I really am so happy you're back," she squealed through her tears.

The future team of crime fighters watched her leave somewhat awkwardly. No one wanted to address the issues the new arrangement might present: namely, the strain it would put on John and Sherlock's relationship. Instead, Ainsley easily turned everyone's attention elsewhere.

"So, uh, what next?" she wondered.

"Now, you call your sister and tell her you've found a place to live. And I'll be needing about half an hour to get this hair dye out."

A/N: Aw, Mrs. Hudson! I love her. She's just so adorable. What do you all think of this chapter? Everyone still in character?