A/N: The next one's my favourite so far - I still have the last two to write. Reviews would be lovely :D Also, since this is another of my depressing stories, I reccomend you all go read Sherlock and the Child. Sherlock, plus a stubborn 3 year old, minus John around for help, equals...
Mrs. Hudson was too late.
She had walked into the upstairs flat to talk to Sherlock, only to discover that both he and John were out. John she knew had left – she'd heard him complaining about always doing the shopping as he thumped down the stairs (no wonder she couldn't get anyone to stay in the basement flat for more than a month) and slammed the door shut behind him. This wasn't anything new, they argued from time to time, but then, so had she and her late husband in their early years of marriage.
She was a bit concerned about the rent being a bit late. John had paid her on time – the dear was nearly never late, or apologized profusely if it was (as if she'd evict them) – but Sherlock hadn't. The landlady really wasn't too surprised. Whenever Sherlock got caught up in his cases, he seemed to forget the rest of the world around him existed. She had decided to pop up to give him a friendly reminder, and a nice cup of tea.
Her friend, Mrs. Turner, often scolded her about mothering Sherlock. But if she didn't, who would? Mrs. Hudson just couldn't imagine how he had managed to live on his own. Honestly, without her and John, she was quite sure the poor boy – well he wasn't really a boy – would die of starvation.
Perhaps she mothered them because she saw them both as the sons she never had. John was the sweet considerate boy who would help out with chores and Sherlock… well Sherlock was the odd, but brilliant son who always needed someone to keep an eye on him to be sure his chemistry set didn't blow up the kitchen.
She really didn't feel like replacing the stove again.
She looked around the empty flat. Strange she hadn't heard him leave. Setting the cup down on the kitchen table and tutting over the mess of equipment, she decided she'd try again a bit later.
Mrs. Hudson was too late.