December 5: "Error(s)" (from Wordweilder)
A/N: Continuation of the previous, this time from Holmes POV
I closed the door to the sitting room firmly behind me and took my place in the chair by the fireplace. Through the open window, I heard the front door close and the clattering of hooves and wheels as Watson's carriage departed. It was fine weather for moving, at least.
I sat for a time, lost in thought.
At length, the sitting room door opened, and Mrs. Hudson entered, humming. I looked up at her and she stopped abruptly, dropping her feather duster but keeping hold of her broom.
"Why, Mr. Holmes!" she exclaimed, fumbling to retrieve the dropped duster, then straightening up again. "I did not expect you would be here."
"Where ought I to be?"
She huffed. "The good doctor could use some help in unpacking. I thought I would take advantage of your absence to clean, before you once again fill these rooms with your papers and clutter, and—" she waved an angry hand "—all of those horrible things that inevitably end up on mantles and in butter dishes."
"And why should I? He's abandoned me for a wife. She can assist him in unpacking."
"Mr. Holmes," she scolded, setting aside the implements of cleanliness and crossing the room to tower over me in my armchair. "He has not abandoned you. Surely two grown men are capable of maintaining a friendship without living in the same quarters."
"I'm certain he shall be quite busy, and so shall I," I replied, crossing my arms.
Mrs. Hudson sighed and sat down heavily in the chair opposite mine— Watson's customary place. "You might not believe me, but I have some idea of what you're going through. As a young woman, I lived for several years with my sister, just a couple years my senior. When she married and left me alone in our once-shared lodgings, why, sometimes I thought I should never see her again. She had moved so terribly far away, and quickly began having children. But one day she wrote me asking me to please come visit. She said it was difficult for her to make the journey with small children in tow, but she missed me terribly and wished I would call more often. So I did. And I've been married and widowed since, but my sister and I have always made time to see one another. The Doctor is not going to forget you, Mr. Holmes. But sometimes, you might have to be the one to call upon him."
I was not convinced, but Mrs. Hudson seemed earnest. And at any rate, there were perhaps some heavier items I would be better suited to moving than his wife or his newly-hired maid. I stood. "Very well, Mrs. Hudson. I shall remove myself so that you might better rid the flat of dust and debris."
She stood as well. "You will help Watson settle in?"
I gave a curt nod, grabbed my jacket, and departed.
A few short hours later, Watson, his wife, and I sat around their new dining room table, drinking wine and laughing. For a moment, at least, I allowed myself to consider the possibility that I had made an error in my predictions; there seemed now to me a chance that our friendship could continue.
The hope of this would carry me through many a lonely night and many a dismal case.