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Watson has no idea what caused it, but he can hear the raised voices of his friend and landlady downstairs. Mrs Hudson seems to be telling Holmes off for something, but he cannot tell what. They keep shouting at each other for a few minutes before Holmes arrives back in the sitting room with a grim expression on his face.
"Whatever was that about?" Watson asks gently as Holmes throws himself onto the settee.
"In an attempt to ask Mrs Hudson something I burst into the kitchen and scared her. This caused her skirt to catch on something and tear. She proceeded to spend the next five to ten minutes telling me to be more careful and saying she doesn't have time to stitch the skirt at the moment as she is rushed off her feet." Holmes starts at the ground with a grumpy, yet remorseful, expression on his features.
"Did you at least apologise?"
Holmes looks at Watson. "That is not an area in which I excel and you know it."
"That doesn't mean you shouldn't try, dear fellow."
Holmes sighs. He looks thoughtful for a second then a mischievous grin crosses his features.
"How would you feel about stealing from the laundry dear boy?" He asks, a glint in his eyes.
"What?" Watson chuckles. "You can't be serious."
"Deadly. You could sew the ripped skirt so Mrs Hudson doesn't have to."
"And what will you do to apologise? It is your error after all."
Holmes' grin spreads. "I shall buy our dear Mrs Hudson a new skirt so she will have an extra spare should one tear again."
Watson looks at him. He seems proud of himself. And if Watson is honest he is proud of him too. Holmes has never been good at apologising the entire time he has known him, but to make up for that fact he has come up with a solution to make such a slip less detrimental should it happen again.
"And when are we to put this plan of ours into motion?"
"I'll go shopping today and steal the skirt this evening once our dear landlady is asleep. All you have to do is sew the skirt. I will arrange everything else."
Watson can't help but laugh. There is no stopping Holmes now his mind is made up, and he knows that.
Holmes leaves to go shopping so Watson spends the day writing. When Holmes comes back they hide the skirt in his room and spend the evening relaxing. Once Mrs Hudson has retired Holmes sneaks downstairs and returns with the torn skirt, a needle and some thread.
"You are aware I have never mended a skirt before, right?" Watson chuckles.
"But you are a master at suturing wounds. How different can it be, really?" That mischievous glint is back in Holmes' eye and Watson just resigns to his fate.
Holmes lights a candle and holds it close to Watson so he can see better as Watson threads the needle and gets to work. In no time at all the skirt is mended and Holmes sneaks everything back downstairs.
The next morning at breakfast Mrs Hudson gives her two lodgers a strange look.
"What seems to be the problem Mrs Hudson?" Holmes asks sweetly.
"Well Sir. This morning it appears that my torn skirt has been mended and there is a skirt I don't remember buying alongside it."
Watson, ever the poor actor, blushes deeply. Holmes laughs heartily.
"Well my dear woman, the good doctor stitched up your skirt at my request and I purchased another one so if one ever gets torn again, you have an extra spare."
Holmes smiles slightly nervously, unsure if this is sufficient to make up for his wrong. Mrs Hudson gives him a sweet smile and gently pats him on the arm.
"Thank you Mr Holmes. And you Doctor Watson. Stop looking so nervous Sir. How could I possibly still be mad at you when you arranged to both fix and replace what you damaged? You are really very sweet when you want to be, you know?"
She leaves them to eat their breakfast and Holmes talks enthusiastically about violins. The exchange with his landlady having put him in good spirits.