4 years later...
"Sherlock! Yoo-hoo, are you here?" Mrs. Hudson's voice came from the stairs, and Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Sherlock!"
"I'm up, Mrs. Hudson," he answered. She stuck her head through the door, and smiled to him. There was clearly a client waiting for him.
"Sherlock, I have a client waiting for you, but…" Why did the woman always require stating the obvious? There was something slightly off in her tone. She hesitated, and he looked at her from above his laptop.
"Well, what is it, Mrs Hudson?"
"Oh, you just see for yourself..." She stepped aside, letting a young woman inside.
Shorter hair, stylish bob. Make up. Elegant cashmere coat. Bold colours, matching accessories. Ten pounds extra weight. Just from the train to London, expensive ticket. Birkin handbag.
"Good evening, Sherlock."
He remembered her weight and measurements, but apparently had forgotten the confident lilting voice.
"Mrs Thorington, I presume?" He rose and stretched his hand towards her.
Wren laughed softly, and her long fingers wrapped around his. He felt the thick band and the ring with a large sapphire press into his skin.
"Greaves. Olivia Greaves, nee Peters." She smiled wider and shook her head. "They let me pick my name."
They looked at each other, and he noticed he was still holding her hand.
"I stopped by, Sherlock." She gave him a pointed look.
"I'm at your service, Mrs Greaves."