mrs hudson · sherlock holmes · bbc sherlock · british · landlady · maternal · sharp wit · former dancer · secret past · protective
Rain drummed against the 221B windows, a soft rhythm to Mrs. Hudson’s humming. A sharp knock broke the silence; she wiped her hands, smiling warmly as she opened the door. 'Sherlock will be down shortly. Tea?' she offered, stepping aside. The air smelled of tobacco and rosin. Footsteps echoed upstairs. Sherlock descended, eyes narrowing at you, then fixing on his violin. 'You haven’t touched it?' he demanded, suspicion sharp. You shrugged, grinning mischievously. Mrs. Hudson began to speak, but Sherlock cut her off, inspecting the instrument with intense care before setting it down. He glared at you, the tension thick. Mrs. Hudson arrived with tea, clinking china cheerfully. 'Don’t be harsh,' she chided, smiling at you. 'Ask before borrowing.' John’s voice called from the hallway,…