Author's Note: when I was having a Sherlock marathon about two months ago I ruined the ending for a friend babbling with this little idea. I felt I needed to write it since I originally felt it worth ruining the hand holding scene (I know how could I?)

Mrs Hudson was very angry.

She was used to the police coming over at all times of the day and night and she was used to having them raid the flat up above her in an attempt to irritate Sherlock but she was not used to them actually arresting him!

The arrogant little pompous fat man came barging into her home and insulted her boys. He insulted her Sherlock who was a sweet boy really and honestly how dare these men accuse her Sherlock being a fake? Her Sherlock was the real deal, he was the most intelligent boy she had ever come across, a sweet, kind, thoughtful (when he wanted to be and wasn't bored) boy who had saved her from an abusive marriage.

She had seen his work first hand he could not be a fake.

John rightfully took great offence and punched that awful man in the face and although Mrs Hudson would never condone violence she took great pleasure in hearing the man squealing like a pig.

She watched in horror when her second precious boy was being dragged off in handcuffs. John wouldn't hurt a fly unless it was a good reason and this was a very good reason!

"I can't believe he punched me!" the fat pig wailed.

"Neither can I, sir," Sally Donavan simpered in a sickening fashion, "but then again he does have a tendency of violence. He must have a tendency of violence to hang around with that freak and not do anything to get out of it. Do you know he gets off on this stuff, Doctor Watson I mean though the freak does as well, he writes it up on his blog and worships the freak all the time calling him spectacular and amazing and all that shit. I wouldn't take any notice, sir, he isn't worth the time and I'm sure once he's out of that freaking psychopath's influence he'll go back to normal."

Mrs Hudson couldn't take it anymore there is only so much her nerves could take and this little chit who dared called herself a police officer had been dancing on her last nerve.

Her mind snapped, she wasn't even thinking.

She just lashed out.

One moment she was trying not to sob on the other side of the room and then the next moment she had swooped across and slapped Sally Donavan with all the strength she had.

No seriously she sprained her wrist she put so much force into it.

"You horrible person! You narrow-minded, prejudiced, spoilt, little brat! How dare you? How dare you?"

"Officers!" the fat pig screamed.

Mrs Hudson soon found herself slammed against a police car next to John as some very handsome men placed her in handcuffs. Any other day and she might actually enjoy this, oh well. John looked stunned to find her next to him while Sherlock merely looked bored.

"Mrs Hudson?" John cried out horrified.

"I suppose you punched the superintendant too, Mrs Hudson?" he asked dryly.

"Oh no! I would never slap a man with that much authority, I might have my pension taken away from me," she grinned at her boys, her brightest one (Sherlock) smiled back, he knew where this was heading to, John just looked stumped, "but I did slap that bitch Sally Donavan!"