A/N: Okay, so quite frankly I've begun to run out of ideas for this story, so I'm having a go at doing various scenes from series 3. Of anyone has any ideas, anything at all, I'd love to hear from you.

Also, I have a message for the person who is pretending to be Charlene on various websites. If you are reading this, you know who you are. While it's good that you liked Charlene enough to impersonate her, don't you think you could have asked before being someone else's OC online?

Anyway, back to the story.

Sherlock plodded out of his bedroom, blue dressing gown hanging loosely off one shoulder. He walked into the kitchen in bare feet, noting the sound running of running water coming from the bathroom door as he passed. Someone was having a shower.

He reached the sink, and picked up the kettle with the intention of filling it with cold water. However, he heard a noise from the bathroom, and small giggle, which made him freeze. He stared at the kettle, then at the tap.

Making a sudden decision, Sherlock placed the kettle back in its place, instead turning the hot tap on with a vengeance. A moment passed, then a shriek came from the bathroom. He analysed it quickly: one person, male (although John could hit a good falsetto note). He grinned to himself and disappeared back into his bedroom, mission accomplished.

-o0o-

"Really Sherlock, you shouldn't do that," Mrs Hudson chided him gently as she placed the tea tray in front of him. "Even I could hear him this morning."

"I don't know what you mean," he said innocently.

"They are about to get married, you know," she reminded him. "It is allowed."

He shrugged, then pointed to the tea-tray as if he had just noticed it. "What are you doing?"

"Bringing you your morning tea, of course," Mrs Hudson said, poured milk into a china cup. "Where did you think it came from?"

"I thought John or Charlene made it." He shrugged, waving his hand in a manner that seemed to indicate he was above wondering about the origin of tea.

"They're too busy getting ready for work in the morning, silly!" She handed him the cup and sat down in John's chair, leaning forward expectantly. "Well? Are you excited?"

"For what?" He blew on his tea.

"The big day! It's tomorrow! John and Charlene are getting married!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Two people who currently live together are about to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday, and then carry on living together. Nothing will change. I don't see anything exciting about that. Aren't there normally biscuits?" he added, frowning at the tray.

"I ran out. And marriage changes people, Sherlock, in a way you could never understand," Mrs Hudson said, with the air of one imparting great wisdom.

"As does lethal injection," He smiled pointedly at her, then took a sip of his tea. "I'm sure the shop on the corner is open," he suggested.

"My best friend Margaret, was my chief bridesmaid." Mrs Hudson's eyes glazed over, ready to tell a story. Sherlock noticed this and jumped up, shepherding his landlady towards the door. "Biscuits! Some of those nice chocolate ones would be nice."

Her voice floated back to him as she made her way down the stairs. "Not your housekeeper!"