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Martha Hudson was displeased.
“Why’s this door locked?” she demanded, raising her voice. “Young man, you know the rules. I’ll ring John and your brother if I suspect you’re using again.”
“Ahm, not drugs, Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock said, cracking the door a sliver.
“You’re not with a client,” she accused, taking in his bare shoulder.
“No, I am not with a client.” He hesitated. “I’m entertaining.”
"I should think not." Mrs. Hudson scoffed. “You’ve never entertained a day in your life.”
“First time for everything,” he said through his teeth. “Go away.”
She leaned in, suspicious. “Have you got a young man in there?”
A giggle. A girly giggle.
“I’m not–” he huffed as the giggles intensified. “Whatever. Yes. Leave.”
“Wait.”
“Mrs. Hudson–!”
“Wasn’t–Was that Molly?”
Sherlock thunked his head on the jamb. He swung the door wide, allowing a clear view into the kitchen.
“Sherlock!” Molly protested. A very nearly naked Molly, in point of fact, wearing only her underthings and perched atop the table, her bare feet dangling above the floor.
Sherlock scowled. “If I’m to be ridiculed so are you, Molly Hooper. All’s fair.”
Mrs. Hudson gawked. Happily! She clapped her hands. “You’re together? The pair of you? Oh, Sherlock, really?” she gushed.
“Trying to be, anyway,” Sherlock gritted out.
“Do you mind if we keep the doors closed? I do promise to keep my eye on him." Molly smiled sweetly, shrinking a little as her fingers played nervously with her ponytail. She clutched the long hair close to chest as if it might help preserve modesty. Oh, pet.
“Among other things...” Sherlock quipped.
“Shush, you,” Molly said, throwing him a look. She crossed her legs, regaining some composure, though still had a bit of the look of a skittish colt.
The dear. Every right, what with being romanced in a place like this...God! Were those hand bones by the range? She shook her head. No matter. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Door can stay closed. No clients tonight,” Mrs. Hudson preened.
“No clients tonight indeed, Mrs. Hudson," repeated Sherlock solemnly. But it was not her he was addressing. He gazed at pretty, sweet, bashful Molly Hooper whose mouth turned up just as her eyes cast down, so obviously was she touched by the small (though significant) gesture of devotion. "Not even for a ten."
"Maybe for a nine. Definitely for a ten," Molly corrected after a beat, smiling a crooked little smile that radiated happiness.
Mrs. Hudson pressed a hand to her chest. Love. Oh, it could take the strangest forms, couldn’t it just? She allowed herself one more moment to take it in before patting Sherlock on the arm and making her exit. She closed the door gently, a spring in her step as she descended the stairs. Oh, she’d have to call Mary right off with the news. Who’d believe it–
The door swung open loudly. Sherlock stuck his head out into the hall. “Mrs. Hudson!”
“What is it?” she called up from the landing, concerned.
“Send away any clients in the morning, too.”
He tossed her a wink and slammed the door shut once more.