Well, this lined up rather perfectly! And this is again something new from me, as I'm trying a new perspective again. This time? Mrs. Hudson (albeit delivered in the third person). I haven't tried her before, so this will be an interesting exercise for me.

This is also a companion chapter to Chapter 11 of this fic, where Holmes and Watson are in America, so this is: what does Mrs. Hudson get up to when her lodgers are gone?
Also, to stick to the theme of what I titled this chapter, this is going to be a bit less dialogue-focused than usual. This is a quick little chapter again to catch up with you all!
The warnings from 'The Adventure of the Dancing Men' and otherwise apply here.

Away we go, on with the show!

From mrspencil: Mrs. Hudson goes to evening classes

And, a second prompt!

From Hades Lord of the Dead: Old Traditions

Silent Night, Holmes-less Night

Christmas was often an unusual time for 221B Baker Street. Before Sherlock Holmes and John Watson moved in, Martha Hudson's Christmases were quiet, filled with family and gentle giving.

While now they were much louder, given that one of her lodgers had a fondness for doing target practice on her lovely walls, each Christmas with them was still full of life and laughter.

The three of them would sit down for Christmas goose(with Watson insisting she join them), while Holmes would regale them with tales from his adventures, with Watson adding life and spice.

But now? Holmes and Watson were in America. And by their last telegram, they wouldn't be home for Christmas.

And 221B Baker Street was quiet. Too quiet.

That would never do.

Many of Martha Hudson's family made their Christmas desserts, or other gifts, by hand as a Christmas tradition.

And, given some distant relatives wanted to be competitive this year, such things necessitated the need to go to the local night classes for this sort of thing.

And I will not let them crow on Christmas. This class, in particular, was a rarity, combining different aspects of hand-making gifts. Some busied themselves by making doilies, and others made hand-made toys, usually some form of a wooden rocking horse. If they were more advanced in skill, they made Nutcracker dolls(which had become incredibly popular when the ballet came out six years prior, much to both frustration and delight.)

Martha occupied herself with making plum pudding, as one of her nieces requested. She couldn't bring herself to disagree; it had been ages since they all had plum pudding.
"Martha! It's been a while, my dear." Called a warm, tender voice as Alice Wilson, one of Baker Street's many neighbors, joined her in the kitchen area, beaming. "And Happy Christmas to you and yours; how is everything going?"

"Ah, hello, Alice!" Martha quickly used her free arm to embrace Alice before returning to her work. "It has been, though it is what you can expect from having Mr. Holmes as your tenant and bringing cases into your home." Said she as Alice giggled, grabbing some bowls of her own.

"I've heard all about them, you know. Last Doctor Watson updated The Strand; they were going to America to help put away that dreadful Abe Slaney, right?" Alice asked as Martha winced slightly at her getting right into what had been eating at her.

"Indeed." She said quickly. "They left a few days ago, but… I haven't heard from them since."

Part of her worried about them both, especially in something like this. After Holmes had come home, he barely spoke to anyone in 221B Baker Street, had hardly touched his violin, or made any pawky remarks about Scotland Yard, passersby, anything.

If Martha didn't know any better, it was the second time Mr. Sherlock Holmes had openly shown melancholy, such open despair over a case.

So how would they be faring in America?

Alice seemed to notice her apprehension, gently taking her hand. "Well… I'm sure they'll be alright. Now, how about we work together? I am attempting to make figgy pudding, as Beryl down the road has been saying that no one's been able to make a good one in years." She said. "And, I happen to have been to a public house recently; you wouldn't believe who they said might be coming 'round here."

Martha chuckled, knowing Alice well enough by now that she was attempting to put her at ease—and it was quite working.

"That does sound lovely, dear. I think we shall." She said.

As the public house had gossiped, it seemed that one of Holmes's former clients would be joining the class, and, given the timing, many expected it to be Elsie Cubitt to pull her out of her grief at Ridling Thorpe Manor.

Of course, none of them ever knew—if Elsie did come, it was during the busiest times when people attending the class were too preoccupied to notice the grieving widow.
Sooner rather than later, Martha and Alice produced plum and figgy pudding. Alice glanced over at Martha, a concerned expression her face.

"When is the rest of your family visiting, Martha?" Asked she as they descended down the stairs from the class and towards the street.

"They usually come around this time from our traditions, though… because the weather in the countryside has been rather poor, they're not due until Saint Stephen's Day." Martha mused.

And now I understand the line of questioning: do I want to spend Christmas alone without Holmes, Watson, or anyone else?

"Come stay with us for at least Christmas Eve, then, Martha," Alice suggested. "William loves having you around, and we can share stories like we did here, at least until you get their telegram back saying they're alright."

Martha paused, then nodded, switching direction to follow after Alice, carrying her plum pudding in the container that they'd been provided at the class. "I think I'd like that, Alice." She said.

Martha Hudson did indeed receive a telegram later that night. It took them a while to figure that she was down the road, but the telegram's contents confirmed at least one thing: Holmes and Watson were safe, even after an unexpected detour in Asheville, North Carolina.

"Asheville?" Alice peered over Martha's shoulder as she nodded, finally a grin appearing on her face. "As Doctor Watson described, their train was derailed due to ice, but they're on their way again."

However, when they do come back, I expect to hear quite a bit about their adventures through America… and I'm glad they're still having them even when they're at their lowest.

Of course, Saint Stephen's Day was filled with satisfaction regarding the plum pudding and the figgy pudding that Martha and Alice made during night class.
Beryl, further down the road, was able to proudly declare that she finally had a real figgy pudding on Christmas, which left Alice preening for the majority of the rest of the day.

As for Martha Hudson? Her plum pudding had finally gotten the competitive nature of her distant relatives to stop, given everyone had filled their mouths and bellies to prevent saying anything regarding their 'game.'

Though, when most went home after the holidays, they all agreed that Martha was indeed the winner of the competition, much to said distant relative's dismay and crowing over both telegram and personal newspaper ad that she should have a second chance at it.

Martha never mentioned the night classes to anyone else, though when Holmes and Watson did indeed return from America, Holmes immediately deduced it off of her, much to her rarely shown preening delight.

And they thought it was brilliant.

And that's it for this chapter! I struggled quite a bit with this one, but I came up with this. It's a nice, short little story for the holidays. (And my 26th Birthday!)
Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, or whatever you might celebrate. I hope they're a good one this year!
References include: 'The Adventure of the Dancing Men,' 'The Five Orange Pips,' 'A Treatise on Failure,' and partially, 'The Adventure of the Norwood Builder,' and 'On Wins and Losses/Without the Pulse.'

Next time? Oh… maybe there's magic in the air.
Cheers,
Blue