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She heard a quiet knock on the door followed by the muffled rumble of rushed feet down the stairs. The soft squeak of the middle hinge let her know that the front door had opened. Muted voices in hallway reached her ears but she couldn't make out the words. Their footsteps neared the kitchen and she looked up from the cookies she was making.
"Were going upstairs to study," announced Sherlock in a perfunctory tone. He was already turning to leave even as John poked his head through the doorway
"Hello, Mrs. Holmes. Hi, Mrs. Hudson." John gave them a friendly way.
Violet smiled at him. "Hello, John, dear. Still worried about your A-levels?"
He flushed a bit and refused to meet her eyes. Some might say he looked a bit guilty. "Um... just enough to not stop studying."
She looked at him with a crooked half-smile and he flushed deeper. "I'm sure you'll do fine, dear. You're a smart boy."
John studied his toes as he mumbled, suddenly very serious, "Thank you, Mrs. Holmes. I'm sure I will, I just worry."
She nodded, not needing him to elaborate. He'd eluded to her often enough the troubles of his family that she’s been able to deduce it, not that she had told him as much. Still, he knew she knew. Sherlock may have just seen her as an especially perceptive mother, but John, always in awe of Sherlock’s deductions, could she the same skill in her.
"Jawn!" Sherlock whined from the top if the stairs.
"Himself is getting impatient. Best get to your... studying." The knowing half-smile tugged at her lips again.
John blushed again but smiled back before turning to leave.
"Jaaaawwwwwwn!"
"I'm coming, you git! Calm down!" John yelled back, picking up his pace and jogging up the stairs.
Violet smiled to herself and went back to measuring the flour.
"Young love," Martha whispered, slipping her arms around Violet from behind and resting her cheek on Violet’s back.
Violet’s smile grew as she pressed back into Martha and hummed in agreement, the warmth of the body behind her causing a rush of affection to flood her own system. They stood like that as she continued to measure and add ingredients, moving seamlessly together as needed, until the cookies came together.
Martha reluctantly let go as she reached for the cookie sheet. Both women rolled out balls of dough until the pan was full. Above them there was a yell and crash as something heavy toppled onto the floor. They both looked up at the ceiling towards Sherlock’s room, but neither made a move to investigate. The walls of this house were thin and only one type of studying made that kind of noise. The pair looked at each other and started giggling.
“How much longer before they tell us?” Martha asked, already working on filling the second sheet.
“Hmmm… not long I expect.” Violet walked over and put the full tray in the oven. “John is a smart boy and knows we know. Sherlock is, well, Sherlock. Too wrapped up in his own mind and genius to see the clues in front of him.”
Martha nodded. “I fully expected him to remark on us by now, not that we have been especially open about it, but still. He is such a perceptive boy.”
The tray was nearly full, but Violet put a hand on Martha’s hip and she kissed the back of her neck. “He is a bit distracted,” she whispered into that same skin. “Perhaps we need to be a bit careless.”
When Violet gently nipped at Martha’s ear, she sucked in a breath and pressed back into her. Violet guided her away from the worktop and over to the table where she pushed Martha down into a chair. She looked into her eyes and smiled from where she stood before claiming her lips. It started off chaste but didn't take long before each was exploring the other’s mouth, tongue licking and flicking, teeth nipping and biting at lips.
The timer went off and Violet pulled away. She quickly filled the partial tray before switching the two out. Timer set, she sauntered back over. She quirked an ear upstairs but all had gone quiet.
“I estimate we have four and half minutes before John smells the cookies and drags Sherlock down to get plate and some milk. Five and half if Sherlock is feeling petulant. Should we use the time appropriately?” Violet smiled as she crawled into Martha’s lap. She paused for half a second to make sure there was no objections before kissing her again.
Violet had intended to listen, to know when the boys came down, but she got so involved with snogging that everything had faded to the single point that was Martha Hudson.
“Mummy!” Sherlock groaned when he walked into the kitchen.
Violet jumped as she looked up, honestly startled. She saw Sherlock walking in a circle and not looking at them, about to go into full strop mode and John a bit red but giggling.
“Er… umm… we—”
Sherlock grumbled.
John glared at him. “ I was wondering if we might have some cookies?” His voice was a bit strained.
Sherlock continued to grumble.
“Although, I might amend that to ‘I would like some cookies.’ To eat alone. On my way home.” John looked pointedly at Sherlock.
Sherlock stopped complaining and stood silently with his arms crossed instead.
Violet couldn't help the snerk that escaped as she climbed off of Martha. She could see a faint blush to the woman’s cheeks and felt a warmth on her own that was a mix of arousal and embarrassment, even if it was planned.
As she walked over to the counter, John joined her.
“You didn’t have to, um, get up.” He opened the cabinet to grab a plate and two glasses.
“Jawn…”
Violet chuckled as the complaint died in Sherlock’s throat when John looked over his shoulder.
“Sorry,” he started as he poured the milk.
The plate was already full of far too many cookies. “It’s alright. I know it’s awkward for him, but no one should be afraid to show affection for those they care about, especially not in this household.”
John nodded, the look in his eyes understanding the hidden meaning.
“John, you’re hogging all the cookies!” Sherlock strode over to the counter.
“Well, come grab a glass and maybe we can actually go sit and eat them. But I haven't got three arms to carry the glasses and the cookies.”
Sherlock looked at him before grabbing his glass and the plate. “We only need one. You can finish it.” He turned and walked out.
John rolled his eyes as he went to put the other glass away in the fridge.
Violet watched in interest as John followed Sherlock, catching him at the bottom of the stairs. She nodded to Martha, who turned just in time to see John flip around Sherlock and kiss him hungrily. They couldn't see the look on the boy’s face, but they were sure it was one of surprise.
The timer went off a second time and Martha rose from her seat. “Well that went well.” She retrieved the hot tray from the oven and set it on the counter.
Violet nodded. “Yes, it did. On both counts.” She leaned over a gave Martha a chaste kiss.
The women continued until all the dough was parcelled out, mostly silent and stealing the occasional kiss between cleaning and baking. Violet knew this was new for the two of them, but they had been good friends before and neither felt a need to rush forward too quickly. They had all the time in the world to figure each other out.
There was another crash above them and giggles that could be heard through the wood and plaster. Both women smiled; with any luck this was a lesson both boys would learn too.