I realised that despite the fact of her being pretty much my favourite character, I have only vague mentions of Mrs Hudson in this series. Now that might be because she is so perfect already that I can make no contributions, but I thought she ought to make at least a brief appearance, as she is awesome. All recognisable content belongs to its respective owners.
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It was on a rather impressively grey morning, even for London, that John came down to make himself a cup of tea and found Mycroft Holmes in the kitchen, smoothly sidestepping his brother's experiments (Sherlock had already dashed off to Barts) and Mrs Hudson, who was puttering about, tidying up around the kitchen putting things away while telling him in no uncertain terms that she was in fact NOT his brother's housekeeper.
John found himself smiling as he put the kettle on. Life with Sherlock might never be boring, but that wasn't actually exclusively down to Sherlock. "Good morning, Mrs Hudson". "Good morning, dear. Oh, how's your leg? It is this weather, my hip is acting up something awful". She had her special concerned, but somehow slightly critical face only used for bodily aches and certain Holmes' brothers being unusually daft on. "It is fine, the pain was psychosomatic" Mycroft cut in, about as patient as his brother in that department.
"Maybe some warm tea would help?" John suggested to his landlady, only to have her exclaim "Thumbs!", promptly close the refrigerator door and so leave the kitchen with some vague request or other that he take good care of Sherlock. Mycroft seemed to watch her depart rather benevolently, but then again he did seem to like anyone who was good to his little brother. "Perhaps because we are hard to come by", John guessed internally.
"Sherlock is out. But am sure you knew that. Would you like some tea?" John was in no way going to concern himself with that he was dressed in old pyjama bottoms and the jumper which was Sherlock's favourite on him, when the other man wore a flawless three-piece. He couldn't out-posh a Holmes anyway, there was no use to even trying, so he had stopped caring years ago.
"I know that, and yes thank you. I came to discuss the matter of rings with you" Mycroft took up smoothly. "Yea?" John yawned, not turning to look at the Holmes in question, instead busying himself with the tea. "Mummy is very adamant that the old rings in the family are equally available to both me and Sherlock. This opens for discussion, of course, of what rings you ought to be wed with. I trust my brother has not told you that the ring he gave to you" he nodded to the simple white golden band with a discrete but beautiful blue stone set in it that the doctor was wearing "is an old hairloom? Not, mind you, of the wedding band variety, until now, and quite a welcome decision, I might add". "No" John sat down at the table, handing one mug to Mycroft and keeping the other. "I must admit I rather liked the thought of just simple bands... maybe with some sort of inscription?"
"That would be agreeable, yes" Mycroft agreed, pulling out a folder and a small box "I personally would think that something with a discreet rendering of the family crest might be preferable... I brought some ideas for that, and also some older family jewelry which it is possible to modify, as well... I know that you agreed to let mother do most of the choises for the wedding, but this seemed more important".
"It is" John agreed, easily letting himself be persuaded to go over the options and make choises, leaving it for Sherlock to simply agree afterwards. Mycroft, leaving 221 B Baker Street after a mere two hours of very productive discussion and not one instance of namecalling, once more silently congratulates himself at their good fortune of having the good doctor in the family.