A/N: This is what happens when you chat to people & BFFF's via email and get in a fit of the giggles. This story is for the lovey, talented and awesome johnsarmylady. Some of the facts are even true! This is her story and her words. Honour her:)

I mucked a bit with the weather and the timeline for this – because I can:P

Thank you mattsloved1 for checking this over and to TheGameMrsHudsonIsAfoot for some word usage:)

Don't own – this belongs to ACD & BBC & the spiders are JAL's!

Mrs. Hudson's Home for Wayward Spiders

Martha Hudson wasn't feeling her best. She was down right sick, feverish with a cough that made her chest hurt.

She had been fighting something for the last few days and then on a particularly nasty and rainy Tuesday she had foolishly gone for a walk with Mrs. Turner. They usually took a turn around the park every other day when the weather was nice, but it had been a few days of rain and bluster. She had been feeling housebound and felt the need to stretch her legs.

They hadn't counted on the biting wind that blew hard during their stroll and Mrs. Hudson had not brought anything to cover her head. By the time they returned to the flat, she was wet through and perfectly miserable.

It was quiet upstairs, the boys off hunting a glowing hound or a giant rabbit or something. The weather in London had taken a turn for the worse after they had left. Her hands shook, chills set her teeth to rattle as she unlocked the door to the flat and entered 221A. Her damp things removed, she bundled up in cozy pyjamas complete with dressing gown and her warmest, fluffiest house slippers. The fire she proceeded to build up cast a warm, cheery glow on the otherwise dull day and took the chill off of the air. After heating up some homemade chicken soup and making a pot of tea, she snuggled down on the sofa, afghan across her lap. The first few sips of soup felt good, but she didn't have the energy to finish and she felt slightly nauseated

When she had eaten what she could, Martha lay back exhausted, head against a cushion and looked up at the ceiling. She was feeling decidedly unwell and she thought the fever might be getting worse. She wondered how sick she really might be because there in the corner, minding its own business but taking up space, was a spider. Not particularly big or bold, but sitting there in its webby home. Martha fancied she could feel its beady little eyes on her, watching.

Normally seeing a spider really wasn't an indication that a person was unwell but when a spider started waving at you with its two front legs and wore a yellow raincoat and trilby hat then possibly there was something wrong, especially as that was definitely a Gucci trilby hat. One of Mrs. Turner's had one. It was beige with a green and red band. She was pretty sure that raincoat, however, was off the back of the van. If you were a spider and could afford a Gucci hat why would you not a buy a nice high-end raincoat as well?

She found herself waving back at the spider. Not overly fond of spiders, one still had to be polite and return the compliment when one waved at you.

Martha thought she really should get up and get rid of that spider. She didn't like the idea of killing it; that would be bad luck. Besides it wasn't as if he was doing any harm. At least she thought it was male. Females didn't really go for that look. Of course things changed so fast in fashion she couldn't be sure.

Poor spider. It was raining out. Even with a raincoat on it would be miserable out there. She wondered if she could put him up in 221C. He might like it there. He could move in his family. There was certainly enough room and a spider wouldn't mind a damp basement flat. It would beat living on the street, perhaps having to tap dance for his supper. That would be a lot of tap shoes to buy. Four pairs. It could get expensive. Maybe that's why it had on a knock-off raincoat.

She squinted a bit. It rather looked like a spider she'd had in the flat last week. Same corner. Perhaps it snuck back in when she wasn't looking. She really should start naming the spiders to keep better track of them. She could set up a little rent book, write down all of their names. Bob she thought. He looked like a Bob, especially with the jaunty tilt of the hat.

"Mrs. Hudson?"

Would the lady spiders want to move into the other flat as well? Spiders would probably not be too fussed about where they lived and it wasn't like they put on airs. Although that hat…

"Can you sit up for me please? Sherlock can you get the thermometer for me. Just hold for a minute. I'll check her temperature after I listen to her chest. Okay Mrs. Hudson I am going to listen to your chest now. Deep breath in. Thank you. And again."

She could make little crochet house slippers for the lady spiders.

"Mrs. Hudson? You are very sick. I am certain you have pneumonia. Sherlock has called an ambulance and we are going to take you there straight off. All right? Martha? Can you understand me? Sherlock how long?"

"May I be of assistance?"

"Mycroft, God yes! We need to get Mrs. Hudson to the hospital, she's very sick."

"Would you wear a trilby hat with a yellow raincoat? Because that spider is and I really don't think it suits." Martha asked a very surprised Mycroft.

"No, Mrs. Hudson, I definitely would not. Sherlock now is not the time, but later when Mrs. Hudson is settled we need to talk."

"If it is about what happened at Baskerville I am quite prepared to leave off speaking about it for a good long time.

"Oi! Shut it you two! Now is definitely not the time! Okay here we go. I'm going to help you get your coat on. Mycroft grab the afghan would you please? We'll bring it with us in the car. There we go."

Martha didn't really remember the trip to the hospital and she didn't remember the next few days much either. When she finally came home she was much better. She was sitting back on the sofa when a quiet knock landed upon her door. She rose to answer and found John and Sherlock standing there, checking to see if she needed anything.

She brought them in and John insisted she sit back down and behave whilst he put the kettle on. He made tea for the three of them as she sat there feeling rather embarrassed about the whole incident.

"Here you are, Mrs. Hudson. Now are you taking it easy since you've been home? Not doing too much?"

"Thank you John, dear. Yes I am being good. I do want to apologize for being so silly. I must have sounded like a lunatic." She pinked up with embarrassment over the bits of the conversation she could remember. "Something about the spider on the wall?"

John shushed her and told her not to worry. It happened when one had a high fever. "Actually that's what alerted us. It was a good thing. We would have gone upstairs and maybe not found you until morning."

Sherlock had not yet contributed to the conversation, pretending not to be interested in his landlady. John knew better.

"You were rather loud," he now interjected. "Asking the spider to reenact a scene from some movie or another, 42nd Street or some nonsense. I did, however, appreciate the look on Mycroft's face when you asked him about the hat and raincoat."

"Sherlock," John warned quietly. "You couldn't delete that?"

Sherlock looked affronted. "It's Mrs. Hudson! Of course not. Now George on the other hand…"

"Greg"

"Lestrade. Whatever."

They stayed for a bit longer to make sure she was comfortable. John washed up the dishes and checked to see she had plenty of easy access to food. He told her they would come by later with dinner and she was not to worry. She thanked them and saw them to the door.

After her boys had left, she went to the little writing desk in the corner and took out a small notebook.

She spent some time making columns and deciding on amounts and then she glanced over at the spider, perfectly average looking today.

"All right Bob. I have you down here so there's no more sneaking in and you can't change your name. We'll get you set up in 221C when I am feeling normal again."

She smiled at the spider and waved. He didn't wave back this time and it looked like he rid himself of the hat and coat. Good thing too. It really didn't suit.