It wasn't an adventure. It wasn't thrilling, it wasn't exciting, and it certainly wasn't fun. She told herself so as she stood on the bow of the ship watching the water slip away quickly to either side, the giant vessel beneath her moving as easily though the vast expanse as a hot knife through butter. Wind whipped around her, billowing her best dress and tugging at her hair and threatening to snatch the hat that she'd so securely pinned that morning. It chilled her, made her wrap her shawl tighter around her shoulders, filled her lungs in a way that she told herself must be unhealthy and certainly wasn't making her feel young and vibrant and alive.

"Mother!" someone called from beyond her.

Mrs. Hudson turned, watching as the young man strode towards her purposefully, taking her hand when he reached her and kissing her cheek warmly.

"Here you are!" he said. "You ought to come in, you'll catch cold." A familiar smile played on his lips. "Oh, yes, and the fact that Holmes says he's checked your cabin and the passenger roster and all is well."

She tried to look exasperated as she threaded her arm through his. "Don't patronize me, doctor. I can take care of myself. Besides, you promised me a relaxing little getaway and so I'd expect nothing less."

"We did," John Watson replied. "And for it I will gladly place blame, if any be assignable, on Holmes. Praise, naturally, if you have a good time, comes to me: I've got to keep my status as your favorite child."

"Not favorite by half," she grumbled.

"Favorite tenant, then."

"I couldn't give you that, either, seeing as you're the one who's moved out."

He sighed dramatically. "Can I at least be your favorite pretend child?" he half-whispered conspiratorially.

"Yes," she finally conceded with a small laugh.

In truth, though she hadn't told him, with his hair darkened to better match the detective's in order to pass them off as her sons, John Watson did look disconcertingly like her son, the one the good Lord had let her keep. He was younger than the doctor, though, and she had let Watson make two jokes calling her 'mother' before she had snapped back saying he was closer in age to being her husband than her son, and that had shut him up.

He was right, though, that the whole thing had been Sherlock Holmes' idea. 'Come, Mrs. Hudson,' he'd pleaded. 'A nice first class voyage, a couple days in New York City sightseeing to your heart's content, and another first class voyage back. No obligations, nothing that needs done, just a bit of subterfuge so Watson and I will not be under suspicion from anyone watching for us.' She'd resisted for a bit, saying she couldn't possibly, but eventually he'd convinced her after promising to fund a new travel wardrobe.

It was a relief to hear that everything seemed to be well: it would, as Holmes had promised, be nothing other than a nice relaxing holiday, lies notwithstanding. Doctor Watson dropped her off at her cabin, promising to meet her for dinner but otherwise leave her to her own devices to enjoy the trip. He kissed her goodbye, and she tried very hard to tell herself she wasn't disappointed there would be no adventure on this trip.

For the prompt from Hades Lord of the Dead - Mrs Hudson's adventure