From mrspencil - a page out of Mrs Hudson's journal
==Day Seven==
Mother and Children
Sometimes, I do believe I adopted two boys rather than taking on two full-grown men as lodgers. Mr. Holmes is the worst tenant in London, and Dr. Watson may be a saint, but even saints have their faults.
Today was the anniversary of the terrible battle in which the poor Doctor was wounded. He spent most of the day brooding, while Mr. Holmes was out and about. When Mr. Holmes returned for dinner, the two of them had words; over what, I do not know. Mr. Holmes came back downstairs, frowning in bewilderment.
"Mrs. Hudson," said he, "do you have any idea as to why Dr. Watson is so bad-tempered this evening?"
He may be the greatest genius in London, but Sherlock Holmes can still be as oblivious as the rest of us poor mortals. I told him about the date; his eyes widened and he thanked me and dashed upstairs. The next minute, I heard the sounds of his violin; I don't know what he played, but it was beautiful. Almost heartbreaking.
I declare, I do not know what I shall do with my boys, but on the other hand, I do not know what I would do without them.
A/N: Sorry, folks, nothing long from me this time. This is the story that wanted telling and it just took very few words to tell it. Thank you, though, for the feedback and the support—you're all lovely!