"Mrs. Hudson, you must help me!" Sherlock Holmes insisted, but his tone and stance were more like a petulant child than a serious adult making a request.
"Mr. Holmes, I am busy!" Mrs. Hudson replied, continuing to bake and attempting to ignore him.
"He's moping, Mrs. Hudson! Moping! I don't know how to deal with a friend who's moping. Happy? Yes. Upset? Yes. Annoyed, elated, depressed? Yes. But not moping!"
"The word you are looking for is 'pining,' Mr. Holmes. The doctor is pining, and of course he is! He misses his wife, the poor dear. It's a quite normal phenomenon, as you well know. After all, you begin to pine for a case after only a few hours without one. He'll be back to normal tomorrow when she returns, just you see."
"But for today he is moping," Holmes grumbled. "Won't you please help me? Just a little diversion for him? He used to like making little gingerbread houses, and I am certain that has not changed. I simply want him to stop moping."
"Mr. Holmes, if you do not cease to use the word 'moping' I shall disregard your request completely. Baking gingerbread is no small task, I'll have you know, and I very much suspect it is you who wants to make people and houses out of it and not the doctor. Don't you dare pretend to me it does not amuse you."
"Of course I am the one asking; Watson does not want anything at the moment because he is moping!"
"Nevertheless," Mrs. Hudson replied mildly.
"Mrs. Hudson," Holmes said softly but seriously, "I will tell him that it was you who arranged for one of his old commanders to come to his wedding."
Mrs. Hudson sat down the rolling pin she was holding with a loud thwack. "That's blackmail," she said.
"Nevertheless."
"In any event, how was I to know that the doctor couldn't stand the man and that he was such a disgraceful drunk? I thought it would be a nice surprise."
Holmes grinned. "Gingerbread," he said, "or I will turn the doctor from moping to unhappily reminiscing."
"You are supposed to be a great detective, not a ruffian," Mrs. Hudson replied, crossing her arms.
"Even great detectives need happy friends and warm gingerbread."
"They also need to pay attention to the environment around them."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I have been making you gingerbread all this time you've been begging for it."
Holmes finally stood up straight and surveyed what she was actually doing, smiled widely, and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."
"Yes, yes, now go up and entertain your friend. He's not a tenant here anymore, you know, and so I ought to chide you for treating a guest so callously and leaving him alone all this time."
"Perhaps I should wait until..."
"Oh no you don't. You don't get to avoid your friend just because he's a bit sad."
"Moping, you mean?"
"Go back upstairs, sir," she replied firmly, "and I'll provide you with your gingerbread distraction soon enough."
"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," Holmes said again, and he finally left her in peace.
She sighed, shaking her head a bit. Sherlock Holmes had a great brain, but for everything else, well, it was a good thing he had her.
For the prompt from mrspencil: blackmailing a landlady