Margaret Hudson lounged in bed, the floral duvet snug across her lap and Arthur's shoulders. With a soft smile at the sleeping man, Margaret pulled a stack of papers from her nightstand and slipped her reading glasses over her nose.
Leave it to Sherlock Holmes to evade resigning the lease for nearly a month. Honestly, it wasn't as though he really had anything better to do - Margret suspected he only did half the things he did for the sake of being difficult.
In the distance, thunder rolled, and Margaret pictured her boys, running pell-mell through the rain, if only for the thrill. Sherlock and John were on a walk in Regent's Park, no doubt strategically planned for the poor weather, as some depressive commentary on Sherlock's feelings towards the holiday.
* * *
Margaret, as usual, was nearly right. John and Sherlock had dashed through the downpour, running through the streets of London, hands clasped and laughing - searching for a place unseen by Mycroft's many eyes. Gasping for breath and clutching each other's sodden coats, they smiled and laughed with the perfection of it all. Their cold lips met in one of London's gritty alleyways, and John thought that it really was so very them.
Sherlock was so enraptured, he didn't even notice two bodies, staring and laughing with fingers interlaced - holding overlapping red and white umbrellas.
He didn't notice much but John, at times like this.
Margaret smiled to herself, finishing her scan of the document as Arthur murmured sleepily, "Come to bed, Maggie."
Margaret removed her glasses, setting them atop the completed lease, and snuggled under the duvet.
A moment later, a flash of lightning illuminated the bottom of the lease, still sitting innocently on her nightstand.
Signature
Margaret Hudson - 14/02/2015
Landlady & Housekeeper