I can't leave out dear Mrs. Hudson, the brave landlady that cares for Sherlock and John. She might've attempted to kick out John from her flat out of good intention - which I imagine was quite possible.

Timeline 102 - 201. Thank you for reading and please, review;)

"John, I'd like you to move out as soon as possible."

Mr. Hudson's announcement took the ex-soldier by surprise. The hot tea that he was sipping scalded his throat. Noticing John's painful face, the landlady hurried up to get him a glass of cold water. John racked his brain to see if he had failed to notice any warning signs. As far as he knew, Sherlock had paid this month's rent although John couldn't pay his half – money was tight. Or did Sherlock forget to pay in full? Uneasiness crept through his body.

10 minutes before, John's bedroom.

"John, where is Sherlock? How come there's yellow paint all over my windows?"

The landlady sounded pretty upset as she opened the bedroom door. John barely opened his eyes when Mrs. Hudson pulled back the curtain of the window. He murmured, trying to wake up from his stupor.

"Mrs. Hudson. Good morning."

"It's afternoon."

"What..? What time is it?" John groaned, reaching for his wrist watch.

"Two o'clock. I was thinking of a cuppa together with you boys. I've just bought treats from the bakery. What happened last night? I thought you and Sarah were having a good time."

"Last night, we had a sort of incident. Nothing serious. We'll clean it up as soon as possible, I promise. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, dear. It must be Sherlock's case. Where is he?"

"Sherlock… Sherlock's probably at the Yard; he has to see Inspector Dimmock."

"Well, I'll put the kettle on. Get down when you're ready."

"I'll come down in ten minutes. Thank you. Mrs. Hudson."

John staggered into the bathroom, took a quick shower and changed. He groaned when he saw graffiti all over the windows of the sitting room.

'Get spray removers. JW'

He texted Sherlock, rinsed Mrs. Hudson's dish and tray, and took them downstairs. Before entering 221A, he called Sarah but she didn't answer her phone. John left a text and turned around only to see Mrs. Hudson watching him with pity.

"Here you are- your tea and cake."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."

John started to eat heartedly. He was about to drink the hot tea and scalded his tongue when Mrs. Hudson sat down and declared sternly.

"Best that Sherlock isn't here. John, I'd like you to move out from 221B."

John forgot the blistering sensation in his throat and coughed, tears springing in his eyes. No red flag. Why did the old lady give an eviction notice out of the blue?

Mrs. Hudson sat down with a glass of cold water, but he ignored it and asked.


She swallowed hard and answered.

"John, please don't take it personally. I'd love you to stay upstairs as long as possible, but I really think you need to move out, hold onto your job at the practice, work as a doctor and live in peace."

"Mrs. Hudson, I don't understand why… Did I do something wrong or offensive? Did Sherlock pay the rent?"

"Yes, he did. Oh, John, you are a good man. I'm just worried about you and your lady friend."

The landlady continued, sipping her tea from time to time.

"I had known Sherlock since, well, I was waiting for the verdict of my late husband in Florida. He is a good boy. He is the son that I've never had. He is still like a little boy who takes great pleasure in proving his genius. But his cases always entail danger not only to himself but also to others, and I don't want you to get hurt, John."

John had never seen Mrs. Hudson agitated like this before. He opened his mouth but she hushed him.

"It's Sherlock's choice. Danger is his life and I respect it: I can't stop him. John, you really don't have to take a risk."

She poured more tea into her cup.

"Last night, something happened. I'm old, but I'm not blind. I was watching telly when Sherlock jumped into the flat, shouting that he'd figured the code out. I tried to stop him because I thought you and Sarah would love some time to yourselves…He didn't even notice me and ran upstairs. I closed my door; I heard the door shut with a bang right away. I thought you might've kicked him out… Later, I went upstairs to see if you two needed some more wine, and oh, dear, it was messy. You didn't answer your mobile. I had barely slept before I heard you two came back after midnight. John, honestly what happened?"

"Uh… I…. we… Sarah and I were kidnapped by a Chinese gang organization, called the Black Lotus., One of Sherlock's cases. He followed our track and saved us. All ended well and no harms done."

He barely finished his sentence when Mrs. Hudson growled like a mad lioness.

"Think about it! You are risking your own life and others' just to share a flat with Sherlock. Do you think it's fair to her?"

John couldn't think of what to say. He looked down at his half-full cup of cold tea, stuttering.

"I… I don't think so… but there's something more… I don't know how I can explain it, Mrs. Hudson…"

Mrs. Hudson regarded John for a few minutes while John thought of nice things to say about his flatmate. Her next words were as shocking as her previous announcement.

"Do you consider Sherlock as someone special…more than just a friend? Do you love him?"

John managed to squeak, feeling his throat blistered, dry and painful.

"Bloody hell, Mrs. Hudson, out of all the people, you! I have Sarah and and he has his work. We're not dating... Sherlock's special to me but not that way…"

"Well, my dear. I'm sorry if I was rude. Just sleep on it, won't you?"

The landlady and the doctor drank the rest of tea in silence. John walked out of 221A and saw Sherlock, who must've overheard. Sherlock was holding bags of sponges and spray remover bottles. In awkward silence, Sherlock looked away and stomped upstairs. For hours, they cleaned, not daring to start a conversation.

A few days later, John found himself staring into a severed head in the refrigerator. That was almost the last straw in his patience. It took a tremendous effort for John not to say "I'm done with you and I'll move out". The doctor didn't realize why Sherlock acted more irritably than ever- boredom was just an excuse. John spent the night at Sarah's instead of arguing over his blog entries with the detective. Meanwhile, Mrs. Hudson complained over her ruined wall... Neither John nor Mrs. Hudson wondered why Sherlock was acting so weirdly.

Next morning he watched the news on the explosion on Baker Street; something fluttered in his heart. He hurried back to check on his flatmate. Sherlock was not alone. Mycroft Holmes greeted the doctor and asked how John's life was since he had moved into 221B. John didn't understand what made him say, "I'm never bored" instead of yelling "Yes, your brother's making my life hell". It might have been Mycroft's attitude or his snobbish smile. Anyway, John saw it; how Sherlock's face clearly changed with an obvious relief at his answer. Back from the Yard, Sherlock's voice was unnecessarily loud and harsh- even aggressive?- when he called out his landlady's name. She gave the key to 221A to Sherlock while babbling about her first house and mold, which was totally ignored by the detective, John, and the DI.

After solving the mystery of the lost Vermeer painting, John almost made Sherlock acknowledge his point - a little knowledge on astrology could be useful for the consulting detective. Heading to Sarah's for tea, John was grinning when someone tasered him from behind. He woke up, gagged and blinded in the back of a van and the only thought he had at that moment was that Sherlock would be safe in their flat. He never imagined that Sherlock had decided to meet the mysterious serial bomber alone. John, however, realized he would be the fifth hostage when a vest raced with explosives was put on his body. On the instruction from the earphones, John walked out and saw Sherlock staring in a complete bewilderment. Just one glance at the detective was enough: Sherlock had taken in Mrs. Hudson's advice deeply and decided to meet the villain without his blogger. He could sense how disturbed Sherlock was despite his calm voice. The doctor couldn't see how he or his flatmate could get out without any harm, but attempted to take advantage of Moriarty's distraction on the USB memory stick. After Moriarty left, Sherlock seemed to have difficulties in choosing the words to say thank you, which was utterly unnecessary for John. Later, the bomb disposal unit of London Metropolitan Police was working its way inside the pool while Sherlock kept asking for more shock blankets for John. They kept silence, but smiles on each other's face was assuring enough.

Mrs. Hudson never raised the eviction issue again even though her mouth pursed hard into a thin line when she was told what had happened in the pool. This time John was ready to answer if the landlady asked again: he was willing to take the risk from living with Sherlock Holmes. Of course, this decision didn't come without a toll: John broke up with Sarah and stayed unemployed. Was John sad? No. John was busy as his blog got popular with hits of 1895 per night; cases and clients flooded in. Sherlock and John worked as a team, under a nickname – Hat-man and Robin.

After Mycroft apologized to Mrs. Hudson and left for his office, Sherlock and John grinned at her chiding of the older Holmes for sending his little brother into danger again and again. Since then, it seemed Mrs. Hudson had forgotten the "eviction". Instead, she started to "mother" her two boys upstairs despite her occassional reminder that she wasn't their housekeeper. Mrs. Hudson fussed over Sherlock when he acted wierdly at the news of Adler's death. John couldn't understand why the woman's death affected his flatmate deeply. Well, it turned out that Miss. Adler had fooled them all. She showed up in front of John a few days later.

Barely recovering from the shock of meeting Miss Adler alive, John got puzzled at a warning on the door knocker - Crime in Progress, Please, disturb. John walked into their sitting room to find Mrs. Hudson in shock; Sherlock aiming a gun at one of the CIA agents; and the nosebleeding agent being gagged and tied in fear. When Sherlock shooed Mrs. Hudson and John downstairs, the only thought in John's head was that it would be his last day at 221B because Mrs. Hudson herself was put in a grave danger. The doctor was so sure that the landlady would kick both of them out the very next day. John checked on Mrs. Hudson's bruises and boiled water to make tea. Pouring tea for the old lady, he was nervous - he dreaded the eviction notice that could fall upon him anytime.


"Mr. Hudson. Have some tea. I'll get you some pills that'll help you to sleep tonight."

She spoke in low and apologetic voice - she wasn't trembling anymore.

"The thing that I had said a few months before… that you'd better move out of 221B."

The doctor cut in with his voice shaking in urgency.

"Well, Mrs. Hudson, listen to me, please. It is true; to share a flat with Sherlock is hellish. Worse, it's dangerous like you had said. But, Mrs. Hudson, my life without Sherlock…I can't imagine it. All of his cases... working by his side makes me feel so alive. In a way, I owe him so much…"

The old lady wasn't surprised. Instead, she took a sip of her tea.

"My dear, I was so wrong. I'm sorry. It was an impulsive suggestion. I just wanted to keep you and your girlfriend safe…"

Her words were unexpected but welcome. Blinking her eyes as if she suppressed tears, Mrs. Hudson continued.

"When I heard Mycroft had sent you and Sherlock to the danger, I knew wherever you were, it would be the same. Then it's much better that you two stay in my lookout…"

A little bit louder, she announced with a wisp of smile.

"You don't need to explain, John. Now I know. It's a risk that you're willing to take as his friend."

The door opened suddenly and Sherlock came in: he had sent off Lestrade and the burglar in an ambulance. His face was full of elation– was he eavesdropping again? His voice was lower and huskier when he thanked Mrs. Hudson for retrieving the woman's phone. Gently wrapping Mrs. Hudson's shoulder with his arm, Sherlock said England would fall if Mrs. Hudson left Baker Street, the best compliment possible from him. The trio smiled, sipping tea and relishing the moment of being together.