After about thirty or so minutes of sitting there doing absolutely nothing I had finally had enough. I was bored out of my mind and sitting there was doing nothing to change that, so I decided I was going to snoop around the flat a little bit, see if I could find anything interesting. I stood up from where I had been previously sitting and walked towards the kitchen where I knew the more interesting things would be. Having knowledge of Sherlock's hobbies from John's blog I knew exactly what I was looking for. His experiments. I walked to the fridge and opened it to reveal a human head, just the type of thing I was looking for to quench my thirst for adventure. Well, for the time being anyways. Right as I was about to pick up the head, a loud slam of a door echoed downstairs, which of course meant one thing. John was home to ruin my fun. I shut the door as quietly as possible and made my way back to the couch where I was now standing. If John had found me playing with a corpse's head he'd flip! And I did not feel like being yelled at, in fact I wanted to yell at him for forgetting me! Not the other way around! I snapped out of my thoughts, the sounds of John making his way up the stairs sounding through the area as I opened the door.

"Don't worry about me. I can manage." John sarcastically announced, not even looking up from the two bags of food he was trying to lug into the flat.

"Why in the world would I help you when you forgot to pick me up from the airport?" I inquired, rolling my eyes at my forgetful brother. John hadn't changed one bit since the last time I'd seen him. He was still the sarcastic, caring, man that he always was. The army had changed him though, made him more proud … stronger in a way. He was a better person because of it, and it was something I hoped never changed.

"Abrielle! Oh my gosh, it's Wednesday isn't it." He stated in surprise, looking at me with a spark of guilt. Poor John, even he knew I was going to scold him.

"Yup, it sure as hell is." I screamed at him, the anger from earlier seeping back into my voice. He flinched at my tone, his fingers digging into the bags as he set the food down. He knew I was angry, he just knew, and yet he didn't even try to stop me from yelling at him. The question was … why?

"I'm so sorry Abrielle, it totally slipped my mind." John exclaimed in regret, staring at me like a lost puppy. He felt bad. That's why he kept apologizing. He knew he deserved it, so he wasn't going to stop me. It was like we were young kids again. I always did this when we were children, I would yell at John and he would stand there and take it like the amazing big brother he always was. Even if my anger was controlling me at the moment I couldn't help but smile the tiniest bit at the thought of how awesome John truly was.

"I had to wait at the airport for two and a half hours John." I muttered, not having the strength to yell at him any longer. Yes, he forgot me, and yes I had waited for him for a really long time. But he had apologized, and that was all I could ever ask for from him. Besides, it wasn't like he'd do it ever again. He knew better now.

"I know, and I promise I'll make it up to you." John said, glancing at me with a small smile as he began to put the groceries away.

"You better brother dear." I stated, my own lips pulling up into a small smile as well. I knew he'd make it up to me eventually, he was always one for presents, and there was no doubt in my mind that he'd give me something sometime soon.

"So then, how was the flight." John asked me, his back to me as he began placing things into the cupboards.

"So boring." I complained, watching as he rolled his eyes at my childish behavior. Yes, Okay, I was acting like a five year old. And yes, I was complaining about a plane flight. But it was his fault for asking. We had after all grown up together, he knew I would end up complaining about something eventually, he should've seen this coming.

"Please tell me you didn't do anything too drastic." John begged, staring at her in annoyance.

"No, why would I?" I asked, laughing at the accusation. All I did was stare out the window and daydream … it wasn't like I killed a guy because I got bored. Geez, from the way John was whining, it was like I set the plane on fire because I had nothing better to do!

"You tend to do overdramatic things when your bored. Remember the time you almost blew up a whole house because you didn't have anything to do." John said accusingly a smirk playing on his lips and his eyes twinkling with amusement. Alright, I almost blew a house up. Key word almost. It wasn't like I had blown it up.

"That's not overdramatic, if anything that was just something to keep me occupied. Besides, I was fourteen what else was I supposed to do?" I asked him offended at his statement. I knew he was just trying to prove a point … but really did he have to call me dramatic? I was not dramatic! I'm never dramatic! I was fourteen, and I got bored simple as that, no dramatic about it. Besides, it was for an experiment, I wanted to see how long it would take a plastic bottle filled with my blood to melt over a fire. I didn't have anything else to do, so working on an experiment was what I had decided to do.

"Um how about, reading books and worrying about how you looked, like other girls that were your age." John replied sarcastically, snapping me out of the memories of my past.

"Oh come on, I had already read every single book we owned in a week, and I didn't care about my looks. If people didn't like how I looked it was their own problem." I replied, looking at him like he was an idiot. He knew this stuff already. I was a fast reader, so reading was never the most interesting of things. Besides, I always knew what was going to happen, they were always too easy to figure out. And as for caring about how I looked, well, what was the point? The only people I ever saw were my family and my neighbors. If they didn't like the way I looked they could deal with it. I liked how I looked, and there was no way in hell I would change it.

"So anyways, where is Sherlock? Did you meet him?" John asked, trying his best to change the subject.

"Oh yeah, I met him. He's such a child, how can you possible deal with that all the time?" I asked him in surprise. Taking care of Sherlock Holmes was like taking care of a newborn baby. It was nearly impossible!

"It's called patience." John replied, laughing at my question. Yeah, you definitely would need a butt load of patience if you were hanging around Sherlock. He was a problem in need of constant fixing. He was rude, and a show off, and more a machine than a human. John was perfect in this kind of situation because he was kind, and helpful and definitely a patient person. He was everything Sherlock wasn't. He was reserved, while Sherlock was dramatic … and he was quiet when Sherlock was loud. Unlike me, he was a much better friend for Sherlock.

"Yeah, well I wouldn't be able to handle that all the time. I'd probably end up throwing him out the window." I said, a smirk making its way onto my lips as the thought of Sherlock tumbling out a window played in my mind. He was as annoying as hell and most certainly deserved it.

"And that's why I'm the patient one and you aren't." John confirmed, rolling his eyes at me yet again because of my behavior.

"Where is Sherlock anyways?" John asked me as he walked past me and sat down on his chair.

"He ran to his room when I told him off." I replied, my eyes glinting with happiness. I can't believe making him cross had worked so easily, Sherlock was easily annoyed which was something he needed to fix and fast. He was in a business where a weakness like that could be used towards his disadvantage. Crime solving was a risky business and made a lot of people really mad, really fast. Getting annoyed easily could go as far as getting John kidnapped which was something I never ever wanted. It was the reason that I tried my best to control my anger. Anger was the undoing of us all. Anger is what causes people to act irrationally, and it was an emotion that I had struggled with the most over the years. I was fine now and it was not a weakness for me anymore, it was my strength. Sherlock on the other hand well … not so much.

"What did he do this time?" John inquired, rolling his eyes in frustration.

"He told me to shut up, and I explained to him why I was allowed to talk." I replied. Smiling innocently at him.

"Oh not that speech again. Please tell me you didn't go on and on about the freedom of speech like last time." John said dreadfully. Covering his face with his hands and shaking his head, as if in disappointment. I know that I gave that speech too much, but no one questioned it. It was as if they didn't even realize that we lived in London and not America.

"Hey, it was his fault for telling me to shut up!" I explained, sticking up for myself. It wasn't my fault that Sherlock was born an arrogant arse. If anything it was his own fault.

"You two are going to be the end of me!" John replied, closing his eyes in despair. I smiled at him, laughing at his attitude. It was like he was giving up before he had even started!

"I'm only staying with you until I find a better flat, you only have to survive like a week or two at the most. Besides, I'm not that bad!" I stated, explaining my circumstances. To be quite honest, I really did hope to find a flat somewhere close by, I wanted to stay close to my brother, and I wanted to make sure that neither him nor Sherlock got hurt. Even if I did barely know Sherlock, he wasn't terrible and it wasn't like I wanted him dead. He was perfectly alright … just too, childish is all.

"No your right, your worse." John agreed, Sarcastically adding in his thoughts. No way was I at all worse than Sherlock. In fact, he was way worse than me, in a way that I couldn't even compare. He was psychopath bad, and I was kidnapper bad. Two totally different levels of the scale!

"Oh shut it." I said playfully, my eyes glinting with mischief as John decided to start our sibling rivalry up again. We were always so competitive … about everything really, but the sibling rivalry was always the one thing that got John out of his shell. That was where he shined the most, pranks and all.

"I have a right to talk according to you, freedom of speech and all." John replied, smiling at me as I looked at him appalled. I quickly got out my shock, my brain coming up with a million curse words to just throw my brother for using what I had said against me. He can't just do that! Could he? It was so uncalled for, it was genius! My brother the genius.

"I will cut a giant hole in all of your clothes if you don't stop talking this second." I shot back at him, an evil smile overtaking my face. Two could play at that game John, two play at that game. I was the queen of bad behavior, cross me and you get burnt. John knew that.

"Fine, you win this time." John forced out bitterly. Upset at losing our little game.

"I always win, give it a break John." I gleefully replied, staring at him with a mixture of sympathy and total utter joy

"I'll win eventually." John assured me, picking up a stack of mail and starting to rifle through it. I sat down across from him, watching him in curiosity. Is this what he did when no one was around? Get the groceries and read the mail? John was like an old man, geez, Sherlock had really changed him. He was like Sherlock's mother or something. See no, that was going to have to change. Sherlock was going to have to grow up and do some of the work around the flat, John couldn't do all the work for him! Just as I was about to storm into Sherlock's room and have a violent talk with him about taking some responsibilities around here, John let out an upset sigh, stopping me from doing anything. Whatever was upsetting John was way more important than anything I had to say to Sherlock. The talk could wait. Right now I needed to help my brother.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, furring my eyebrows in curiosity. Family was everything, it was all I ever had, and it was all I ever care about. Not only that, but John was really important to me, his problems were my problems, and his tears were my tears. Watson's stuck together no if, ands, or buts about it.

"We're behind on our payment for the flat." John explained, holding up the bill in annoyance.

"I can loan you some money if you want." I replied, smiling at my brother because of the easy solution.

"No, really it's fine. I'll just tell Sherlock that I need him to help with the bill this month." John replied, giving me a kind smile at my generous suggestion. It was no problem at all, I had plenty of money and giving him a small portion was really nothing. Just as I was about to demand him to take at least some of my money to help with the bill, Sherlock rushed out of his room a loud bang sounding through the flat as he slammed his bedroom door closed behind him.

"Listen, um ... if you'd be able to lend me some …" John stuttered, trying his best to approach this matter in the most delicate way possible. To make the situation worse, it seemed as if Sherlock wasn't even listening.

"I need to go to the bank. Abrielle, you're coming too." Sherlock demanded, interrupting John from what he was about to say.

"No." I replied in defiance. If Sherlock thought I'd go with him after he flat out demanded me to, well he was very much mistaken. I did not take well with being told what to do and when to do it. I was my own person and I could make my own choices.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Sherlock questioned in surprise.

"I mean I will not allow you to boss me around. I'm a human being and you will treat me like one." I explained, my eyes glaring at him in anger. I bet no ever told him no because he always got his way. Well, today he was going to learn the meaning of no. He was not going to lead me everywhere like I was on a leash, because unlike my brother I had a brain and I was going to use it to speak my mind.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock asked in confusion, clearly not understanding why I wouldn't want to go with him.

"You heard me perfectly well, I'm not coming with you until you treat me with at least one ounce of respect." I replied, expecting him to just ask me politely so we could be on our merry way. But of course, nothing is ever easy with Sherlock Holmes, not even the most simplest of requests.

"Nope. Freedom of speech remember, I can say what I want." Sherlock replied with a smirk on his face.

"Oh I see, you think your all smart throwing what I said to you back at me. Bravo, genius, bravo. The only problem with that is that women have rights too, and it's called gender equality. You have to show me the same respect that you give John." I snapped back, wanting oh so much to punch him in the face. He was being a total and utter pain in the arse and that was not something that I appreciated. He needed to give me respect, just the tiniest bit of respect and then I would treat him as my equal instead of the child he was.

"I don't give John any respect!" Sherlock yelled in exasperation, glaring at me in anger.

"Oi, cool it both of you!" John screamed at both of us, standing in between us in fear that we'd murder each other otherwise. Of course, John was the mediator, he always was. John was always the peaceful one in the family, always stepping into mine and Harry's fights to be the voice of reason. The best part of John … or perhaps the worst is that he never played favorites in these situations, he was always fair. He listened to both sides of the story and based on both sides and both sides only would he judge what should be done in the situation. Hopefully, knowing who I was, John wouldn't be too harsh. Maybe if I acted like I was the victim he'd go easier on me than Sherlock? He had known me longer after all.

"But John he's being mean to me." I replied pouting at him as if I were a couple of years younger.
"Now who's the one acting like a child?" John said, a smile on his face as I thought back to our previous conversation.

"It's not my fault, Sherlock started it." I pouted, pointing towards Sherlock.

"Oh, so your blaming it on me now?!" He yelled in surprise, staring at me with a glare that could melt steel. He thought he was so innocent with his adorable baby blue eyes and his mature attitude when he was not even close to innocence he was the one trying to tell people what to do and how to live their lives! Sherlock was more at fault here than anyone!

"That's it! Abrielle apologize to Sherlock." John demanded, looking at us both in exasperation.

"But I didn't do anything John." I whined, stomping my foot like a disobedient toddler. I wasn't going to give in that easily, no way! Sherlock deserved it!

"Apologize, now." John replied sternly looking at me in disdain. He was upset with me. I'd made John upset with me and I literally just been reunited with him! That was a new world record. I'd just upset the one person I actually cared about in the world. I needed to end this, not for me or for the bastard that went by the name of Sherlock, but for John.

"Ugh. Fine. Sorry I'm not sorry." I replied a small smirk on my lips. He said I needed to apologize but he didn't say I had to be sincere.

"Apologize for real Abrielle." John said, sighing.

"I'm sorry that you freaked out when I defended my rights." I mumbled, a small smirk stretching across my lips as the scene played out in my head.

"Actually, no I'm really not sorry, that was freaking hilarious." I added on, remembering Sherlock's appalled expression from when he questioned why I had told him no. It was priceless! People needed to tell him no more often, not just for the good of others but for the good of me when I video record his facial expression. I really needed that video.

"Stop it Bree. Seriously, you need to apologize." John snapped at me, giving me a frown as his eyes glared at me in disappointment. I knew that I had to apologize for John, but did I really have to agree to it so quickly? I was a defiant arse, I had an image to protect.

"No." I growled, stomping my feet and crossing my arms as I glared at the wall in front of me.

"I'll say it if I have to." John said to my back, a small smile pulling up on the sides of my face. Yes John knew my weakness. And yes, he knew he could use it in this situation to make me apologize. And he knew it would work if he tried. But he wouldn't do it, not in public at least. He wasn't that kind of guy, he was a kind person with a kind heart, not some kind of heartless bastard like Sherlock. He was too much of a wussy to do something like that.

"You wouldn't, trust me." I said in assuringly, so sure of myself as a huge smile rested on my lips.

"Abrielle L-" John started, only to be cut off by my hand forcefully finding it's way to his mouth.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so desperately sorry." I replied in a rushed tone, the smile that had previously been on my face now pulling into a frown. He had almost done it … he almost had told the whole world all for some stupid apology. Either the army had made him more confident of himself or living with Sherlock Holmes has started to rub off on him. I didn't know how or what, but somehow John had changed. He was different than the brother that had taken care of me when I was little, more cockier than normal … and to be quite honest it scared me.

As if he had had enough John peeled my perfectly manicured hands away from his mouth and turned to where Sherlock now stood with a confused frown on his face.

"That's better. Now Sherlock, please ask my sister nicely to come with us." John demanded of the man, victory shining in John's eyes.

"Why should I?" Sherlock questioned, composing himself from whatever had made him curious.

"Because if you don't you can forget about going on another case ever again." John answered, looking at Sherlock with confidence. He knew Sherlock, and I bet all the money in the world that he knew his weaknesses too, Sherlock's case inventory being one of them.

"How are you going to make that happen?" Sherlock inquired, raising his eyebrow in disbelievement.

"I'll tell Lestrade that you are on probation until you can politely talk to my sister." John shot back, a glow of what only could be victory shining in his eyes.

"Fine. Abrielle, would you like to accompany us to the bank?" Sherlock inquired in a tone that was obviously sarcastic. Rolling his eyes as the utter idiocy of his question.

"Nah, I'll just stay here and unpack." I replied, waving off his question just to spite him. He was a arse and he deserved it, simple as that. Besides, I really did need to unpack, so it wasn't like I was lying or anything just for the fun of it.

"Nope, sorry, you aren't. That was rude." John replied dragging my hand as he lead me out of the flat.

"So, I'm always rude, it's what I do. I'm a rude person." I replied, rolling my eyes at John's behavior. Great, no unpacking for me then. Stupid John, and his stupid social ideas.

"Yeah, well I didn't get you two to act nice to eachother for no reason. You're coming and that's that." John stated, gripping my hand tighter as he lead me out into the chilly London air. It was as if he thought I'd run away or something! Well, I could if I wanted to … in fact I probably would have, but gripping my hand tighter would do nothing to stop me.

"Fine, if I have to. But I don't have to be happy about it." I said pulling my hands out of John's grip and stomping off, grimacing at the idea of going to the bank with Sherlock and John. I knew Sherlock, and it wasn't ever something as simple as going to the bank, there was always a catch. I highly doubted that Sherlock was just going to the bank to go to the bank. There was always something more, and this time I knew, I just knew that Sherlock Holmes was on a case, which secretly pleased me. Yes, I'm aware that I threw a whole temper tantrum so I didn't have to go, but in reality I was delighted to go on an adventure. Even if I'd never admit it out loud; I bloody loved cases, and the ones with Sherlock Holmes were always the fun ones! I was going to go on this case and I was going to enjoy it, even if I was pouting like a two year old on the outside.

"Oh yeah, and Bree?" John questioned, pulling me deep out my thoughts.

"What is it now?" I growled impatiently, turning on my heel to look back at him.

"I forgot to tell you something before." John replied, his tone very much serious and his lips set into a thin line.

"Out with it." I said sighing, expecting him to tell me something that must be important from the look of his face.

"Welcome back to London." He replied, laughing his head off as my eyes widened in appalment.

"It's great to be back." I yelled, rolling my eyes at my brother as I stalked off in the direction I had previously been walking, my thoughts running through every possible way I could kill my brother and hide the body without anyone finding out.