It took Martha Hudson all of ten seconds to realise that in her own terms Sherlock Holmes was a very special boy. Over time there were many other adjectives added to this, a large proportion not so complimentary. But that was her first impression of him: unique, frightfully smart and, although he would deny it, awkwardly adorable if you caught him at the right moment.

A few years before the young man moved into her flat 'b' she was in the situation where her husband had left again and had taken himself to Florida. She knew this as he'd called, said he was in a bit of trouble and needed her to fly over to help pay for a large legal defence team. She tried to get the details from him over the phone but he had explained that there would be some information faxed through and she was to look over it.

Martha felt as though she didn't have much of a choice. They had been through a lot together over the years and even though there were more down times than up in the last half decade, her mother had always told her that family was all we have in the end and she had enough life experience to know that this was the case. However, the older lady had a feeling something strange was going on. It didn't help that he hadn't mentioned once that he was innocent.

Being an intelligent woman the ex-boys accommodation worker was able to work out the general idea from the papers that were placed out in front of her on the clothed kitchen table. But no matter how much she could derive from the police reports she did realise that this area of the law was not something that she had a lot of experience in and noted that she needed help to understand what was really going on.

And so Mrs. Hudson found herself in a situation where a friend recommended someone calling himself a 'consulting detective' who'd gone to university with Jane from down the road's son, Scott. He'd apparently been solving crimes as a hobby and was now working with Scotland Yard on occasion.

Feeling as though she couldn't lose anything she had Scott organise a meeting before she was due to fly out to America. At around 11am she had the kettle boiled, a freshly baked slice prepared and some papers, photos and the like all set out and ready to go through. Scott had said this Shar-Shir-Sherlock liked all the information to be presented to him. He'd also said he was a bit 'eccentric' so she was prepared for that. Being her age and with her life experiences she'd seen a lot in her time and nothing surprised her anymore.

However, she couldn't escape the fact that she was quite worried about what was going on with Roger, her husband. There may be no love left, he may have done some awful things in the past to her and others, but she had to sort this out. It was her duty.

At about two minutes to eleven there was a strong rap at the entrance of the flat. Punctual, that was a good start. She opened the door to see a tall and frightfully pale and thin twentysomething boy there, shivering. He had dark curls (shorter at the sides, longer on top) and cheekbones that seemed too big for his face. The skin around them seemed a little sunken and made his cheeks appear more hollow than could possibly be healthy. His eyes were a bright, fair blue but were shadowed with purple. He wore dark jeans, a navy button up that was mostly covered with a threading grey v-neck knit jumper. Over the top he had a dark brown jacket but he must be freezing, she realised, he wasn't dressed for the weather at all. It was like he'd thrown the outfit together more for its structure than the colours. He looked like a student even though he'd graduated a couple of years back. The pieces seemed to be from then or earlier.

"Do you mind if I come in?" he said in a deeper voice than expected, teeth almost chattering as a light fall of snow began. "I've misplaced my gloves and I lost my scarf last week, used it to muzzle a dog. I don't mind animals but this one was rabid, caused a bit of an uproar the other side of London. I was able to prove that the owner was letting it out at night to scare off his girlfriend's special 'male friend' who'd taken to visiting when he was on shift work. Turned out to be quite a dull case and hardly worth my time". He moved forward as the woman tried to process the stream of words. He stepped into the doorway and took two paces into the hall to allow the lady to shut the door. He smiled and extended a frozen hand "Sherlock Holmes" he introduced a little more warmly, although she felt a lot of it was an act. "Scott has explained the situation. Sounds very promising, if it is as good as it looks it will be my first American case, not my first international though, you're too late for that. You're Martha Hudson" he added, simply.

She nodded and shook his hand slightly more firmly than he was expecting. "Yes, thank you for coming, Sherlock. A right mess Roger has got himself into. Well come in then, come in and sit down" she invited, kindly.

"Thank you". They stepped through into a kitchen area, he saw immediately that there was a chair set up for him so he moved over, eager to get into working. "Mrs. Hudson please don't feel as though you need to tell me any details, I'd prefer to read the police reports first. I don't want your judgements clouding my brainwork yet". Somehow she wasn't insulted by this, just happy that he was about to get going. She realised that he was watching her intently. "You've already made up your mind about his innocence, or lack thereof. Don't tell me anything yet, let me look at the facts first". He sat at the table and hovered his hands over the information before flipping through a lot of it as though checking that it was all there and in order. "And this is everything you have?"

She watched on, stopping her buzzing around the kitchen, hand on her hip. "Yes. I spoke with him, my husband that is, on the phone before those were sent through. I can tell you what he said after you've read those?"

"That would be excellent". He began to read the letter in his hands before demanding "Black two sugars, usually I prefer coffee but with the tea prepared already that will do". He looked over at the woman, his face falling a little. "You were about to offer me tea, weren't you? I was trying to save time". He sounded a little unsure of his actions.

"Oh yes, that's fine" she replied, starting to head over to the bench. "You must be frozen, I'll crank up the heating now, don't you worry about that. You focus on what you're doing"

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson, take your time" he reassured in his deep baritone.

Over the next few minutes the homeowner adjusted the thermostat, got the plates ready and watched the young man at work. His eyes raced back and forth over the words and they seemed to sharpen more with each bit of information, both the clear and unclear, that he received. He obviously really enjoyed working out puzzles, gave him a chance to use his gifted mind. As he went he nodded as the teacup was placed infront of him but he stayed silent and left it untouched, obviously engaged with what he was doing. "Have some of the slice, Dear. You look like you could do with some feeding up"

"No, thank you. I don't eat when I'm working" he replied in a well practiced monotone, not looking up.

"Nonsense, you've been eyeing it off since you arrived". And with that there was a piece of slice placed on his saucer.

Surprisingly it only took a moment then he was staring up at her in silence with something close to mild shock on his face. His bright eyes were wide and he suddenly looked younger and a lot more vulnerable.

"Well come on, don't let your tea get cold. Then I want to hear what you make of these" she encouraged, waving a hand to the papers between them. "You sound like you know what you're doing and I'm relying on you, remember".

He took a moment but nodded, lifting his spoon and stirring then bringing the cup to his lips and taking a sip. He then took a bite of the slice, swallowing and then seemed torn. He gazed down at the baked good, made a decision and then took another bite, all of a sudden he seemed ravenous but he was able to control this somehow.

"They're apricot and condensed milk" she informed him with a motherly smile "I have apple and rhubarb ones to take home with you if you do a good job". At this she placed another one of the cakes on the side of his plate. She watched as he absently took it in his right hand as he read a page in his left, munching on it every so often.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson, you are an exemplary baker" he complemented ten minutes later. She didn't know how much praise he gave others on a day to day basis so she felt satisfaction at the comment. "Now" he redirected, looking excited "tell me about your husband. And please, don't be boring" he grinned, tenting his hands and leaning back in his chair and he waited with rapt attention for her to begin.

A/N: I feel as though Sherlock here is very much like pilot!Sherlock, just a bit younger. His clothes are similar to that version.

I'm not sure when these went from drabbles to seeming like one shots but I have to say this one is my favourite so far! Thanks for the support up until now, please let me know what you thought of this story :)