BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock and John: Saving Mrs. Hudson

Request for @wandar90

~

The doorbell rang, echoing through 221B. Mrs. Hudson was in the middle of making her famous cookies, well famous according to John and Sherlock, and had just taken the last batch out of the oven. The doorbell rang again, rapidly, two more times. What an eager client Sherlock and John must have. She didn't think twice about who it could be, just went to answer the door. She opened it, but no one was outside. She glanced around, looking for the visitor, but her vision was cut short when a bag slipped over her eyes, and a sharp pinch came to her neck.

~

"Please stop critiquing my figure Sherlock."

"I'm not critiquing, just observing. It's not just the mom that gets bigger when a baby is on the way." John stayed silent, taking deep breaths so he wouldn't strangle his friend. He stomped forward, opening the door to 221B forcefully. He made his way up the stairs, but halfway up he heard Sherlock call to him, worry mixed into the curve of his voice.

"John hurry!"

"Coming Sherlock," replied John. He probably forgot his hat somewhere. I swear, he actually likes that thing. But Sherlock was in fact sporting his hat. He was also not downstairs.

"JAWN!" Sherlock yelled, his voice floating out of Mrs. Hudson's flat. John hurried in, suddenly realizing it was serious.

"Is she okay Sherlock?" asked John, rushing in. He expected to find Mrs. Hudson lying on the ground, but she was nowhere to be found. A fresh batch of cookies lay on the counter, untouched.

"John, she's gone. You know she always puts the cookies in the jar John. The cookies are not in the jar. Someone took her, they must have."

"Who would take Mrs. Hudson?!" Suddenly, Sherlock darted out of the flat. John followed closely after, and came to find the detective kneeling down, magnifying glass in hand, peering through it at the ground.

"Three men. All over 6 feet. Never entered in the front door, grabbed her from behind. However, they left going out the door. You think that someone who saw three burly men leaving with a knocked out frail women with a bag over her head would have the brain to do something, call someone, even Scotland Yard. Normal people must not have brains."

"How do you know she had a bag over her head?" inquired John. Sherlock held up a single strand of string, no longer than a blade of grass. Then he moved toward the stairs. "Must have entered through a window upstairs, they're shoe prints are on the stairs too."

"Who would go to such trouble to take Mrs. Hudson?"

"Somebody who wants to cause me a lot of trouble," said Sherlock as he inspected the front steps. John watched as he ran his hand along the steps, his fingers coming up wet.

"Water. River water. They're taking her to the river, probably in a submarine since they want to keep her alive, but hidden."

"You mean to tell me there is a submarine submerged in the Thames?"

"No, it's lying on the bank of the river surrounded by a garden of flowers," answered Sherlock dryly, high tailing it out the door.

~

"Your dear Sherlock should be here any moment you old hag," he spat at Mrs. Hudson. She huddled in corner, arms wrapped around herself. "Frank, any word from the eyes?" asked Dame, stepping over Mrs. Hudson.

"They just left the flat."

"Perfect. I hope Sherlock brought his wallet."