It would probably have been a better idea to stay at Scotland Yard. This was because, as was inevitable when you went to Bart's, Molly was there. Of course, with Molly you were normally greeted by… Well, there was no other way to put it. Strange. Adele still found her stupidity quite amusing, but Molly didn't seem too catch on. And with Sherlock being oblivious to the fact that Molly fancied him, Adele generally couldn't spend a prolonged amount of time near Molly. Although Molly didn't know that.

John was, as per usual, was reading the paper. What was so interesting about it? If you wanted to know anything these days, the simple solution was to just ask Sherlock or annoy Lestrade. The quicker, of course, was the former, but it was much more fun to annoy Lestrade.

Sherlock nodded when she got there. Adele didn't even bother to return the gesture, instead deciding to see exactly what he was doing. Although it wasn't particularly interesting.

'You won't gain any information from looking at an envelope.'

'I will.'

'You expect him to have hidden secret messages? Bit far-fetched.'

'No. I'm expecting science.'

'DNA? It won't lead you anywhere. I still have to solve the stupid thing.'

'Well, I'm making it easier.'

'If you say so.' Adele decided that it would probably be more annoying than normal to be anywhere near Sherlock at the moment. John was a better option thus far. He was quiet. And Molly wasn't so keen to speak to him.

'Hello.'

John looked up from the paper. 'He's only trying to help.' He kept his voice low. 'It's more than he'd do for most people.'

'It's annoying. I don't need his superior intelligence.'

'What you mean is that you won't accept help because your determined to prove that you can do things better.'

'If you want to put it like that.'

John nodded. 'What did you say to Lestrade?'

'To stop freaking out.'

'And did he listen?'

'Take a guess.'

John nodded. 'Do you want me to go away?'

'You're only reading the paper. It's if you start talking, then I'll have to shoot you.'

He actually looked alarmed. The strange thing was, even Adele didn't know whether she was joking. Oops. 'I'm kidding, you know. I'm not that crazy.'

John chose not to answer this. Probably the best idea, all things considered.

Had she been joking? Suddenly, Adele wasn't so sure. She could joke around about guns and stuff quite easily, but that wasn't the same. This would make her insane. Bloody insane.

Molly drifted in and out, occasionally muttering to Sherlock or John. But the room generally stayed quite, and for the first time, Adele actually managed to be productive. She'd used about ten pieces of paper, mostly for drawing random pictures, and had probably gotten about half way towards the answer.

? Crimson broke the window.

Questions to ask: Who left the note? Could be a foe. Might be a liar. Could be a play one words. Stupid. But possible. Might not be a Crimson? Possible. Not specific. But surname was used. So must have been a Crimson. So which one? Any of three could have done it.

Names of brothers: John, Mark, Paul.

All sound like idiots. Could have all done it? Unlikely.

Must have been one of the brothers.

?. Could mean anything. ? could mean t question one of the Crimsons. As in 'Question the Crimsons.' But only one of them did it. Why? Said 'He'. One of them.

'Done?'

Adele jumped. She hadn't heard Sherlock walk up behind her. Git.

'I would be, if you weren't hovering in the background asking me that.'

'Do you want me to go?'

Adele suddenly realised that John had left. Ow ha she not noticed? She noticed things. So now her vague powers of notification were vanishing. Helpful. Really.

'Tell me where John is.'

'Flat.'

'And you're not?'

'No. I didn't think you'd want to be disturbed.'

'Until now, apparently.'

'You stopped writing for about five minutes. You could have solved it.'

Adele looked at her watch. She'd been working on the riddle for five hours, so she really should have solved it. Instead, she'd gotten pretty much nowhere.

'No. I'd tell you.'

Sherlock nodded and walked away. Hm. What Adele was really concerned with, minus the stupid riddle, was where Donovan was and how they were supposed to find her. And whether Lestrade was having a complete freak out or not. Adele was regretting her decision not to stay at Scotland Yard now. Watching Lestrade go crazy was a rare but hilarious opportunity.

? Crimson.

'What's going on?' Adele heard Molly asking what was probably the air, since Molly was completely unsure about who the charade was centered around. Rather than answering herself, she decided to let Sherlock do it.

'Puzzles. He's scaring her.'

Adele threw the pencil down. However much she tried, she couldn't figure it out. She only had about an hour, at the most.

'More like traumatising her. She's only just out of that hospital.' However hard she tried, Molly had never been able to whisper. Sherlock glanced at Adele, who responded with what could only be descirbed as a death glare, and then answered.

'I think that's the idea. One after the other.'

This time, several pieces of paper were shoved across the table. Adele slammed her head into her arms, on the verge of screaming at someone.

'It doesn't work! There isn't a bloody answer! It can't be done!'

Sherlock walked over, glancing down at the papers. 'Think, Adele. There has to be an answer. He wouldn't give you something impossible.'

'He would. He'd find it hilarious.' She glanced upwards. 'Happy? You've done it! Shoot her, I don't care!' Once again, she dropped her head down. It actually really hurt. Maybe she should stop.

'Stop it. You're yelling at air, Adele. That's what he wants, he wants you to go mad. Don't let him win.'

'But it's impossible!'

'Give.'

Adele shoved the letter over.

One snowy night, Sherlock Holmes was in his house sitting by a fire. All of a sudden a snowball came crashing through his window, breaking it.

Holmes got up and looked out the window just in time to see three neighborhood kids who were brothers run around a corner. Their names were John Crimson, Mark Crimson and Paul Crimson. The next day Holmes got a note on his door that read "? Crimson. He broke your window." Which of the three Crimson brothers should Sherlock Holmes question about the incident?

'Why's he used your name?'

'It's not important. I can't do it for you, Adele, you know that.'

'Then let him shoot, I don't care.'

'I know for a fact that you do care. Look, it's that note on the door. That's the important bit.'

'We already know that one of the Crimson bothers broke the window.'

'So which one? I can't help any more than that.'

'Question... All three of them? But it doesn't relate...'

She cast her mind around. Question. Question. Question mark? That was what the symbol was called. Question mark. Question mark. Question... Mark...

'Question mark! That's it, that's the answer! Mark Crimson! Question Mark! Right?' Adele practically yelled at him. Unfortunately, Sherlock wasn't exactly much help.

'If you think so.'

'Oh thanks. Donovan's life only depends on it.'

'You don't like her.'

'No. Good point. How am I supposed to tell him that I've solved it?'

'He's left a phone number on the back of the paper.'

'Oh. I knew that.'

Thankfully, the phone number was for a mobile, so Adele could text Hammet. If she heard is voice at the moment, she would probably end up hunting him down and shooting him through the head. Out of the corner of her eye, Adele could have sworn that she saw a blond kid hanging around outside the door of the lab, but as soon as she had blinked, whoever it was had disappeared. Strange.

It's Mark Crimson. Tell me where she is.

Adele decided against putting her name at the end of the text. Hammet, it seemed, was being attentive, because she replied in the next minute.

You're really boring. She's at the school sports hall. I like consistency in my hideouts, Holmes.

'School. Again.'

Sherlock almost jumped up and ran off, forcing Adele to catch up. Molly started stuttering something or other, but Adele ignored her. Molly was currently not a priority. No way. Sherlock was waiting outside, holding open the door of a taxi.

'I've seen enough of these things.' Adele muttered, climbing in. She seriously had.

Why had he gone back there? Hammet was probably being lazy. Or he thought that the sports hall would scare her. So he'd basically tried to kill her there, big deal. He hadn't exactly succeeded. Truth be told, he'd done an awful job.

The taxi was pretty quick. For a taxi. Sherlock insisted on stopping it about ten minutes' walk away from the school. Suspicious git. Adele made a point of rolling her eyes at him, which made him look really annoyed.

'What do we do about Donovan then?'

Adele thought about it for a few seconds. 'Sneak up on Hammet, hit him over the head and run.'

'And after that?'

Adele grinned. 'That's the fun part.'

Sherlock didn't see the funny side to that. 'You have to take it seriously.'

'That's boring. And planning never does us any favors.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, you planned to trick Moriarty, and look at where we are now.' Sherlock didn't seem to have an answer to that. 'My point exactly.'

Adele could swear that she kept seeing the same blond kid every so often. Where they following her? No. She was getting paranoid. Instead of pointing it out, she ignored it.

The sports hall, from the outside, didn't look very threatening. Well, to Adele, that was. To Sherlock, apparently it was a big scary torture chamber of death. Or something like that, because he inisisted on calling Lestrade and John.

'Why?'

'Lestrade's mental state, John was in the army.'

'Because he'll try to shoot again.'

'Unoriginal. He's dangerous.'

Lestrade and John turned up, although Lestrade wasn't really Lestrade. He kept muttering to himself, which was annoying Adele. A lot. So much that she eventually snapped.

'Lestrade, shut up.'

John and Sherlock looked as though they were trying not to laugh, and Lestrade looked annoyed. Adele glared at him until he muttered an apology.

'Better.'

The four of them crept into the sports hall, only to find that it was a waste of effort. Hammet was standing there, with all the lights on, whistling. Donovan was standing in the corner, and Adele could make out what appeared to be lasers pointing at her head. Oh, he had help. Great.

'You solved it then?' Adele could tell that Lestrade had flinched. Sherlock appeared to be trying not to attack Hammet, and John was prepared to shoot. 'They can relax, I won't do anything. I play fair, you know. Well, Hansel might try, but I wouldn't.'

'Hansel?'

'I thought I might make them useful. Gretel's supposed to be scaring you, but she's rebellious. I should have a word with her.'

'Save the effort, please.'

'It'll be worth it.' He glanced upwards. 'Hansel? You can go now, she's solved it. Sorry.'

'Can we have Donovan now? Or are we going to have tea and biscuits? Only Lestrade's going crazy.'

'Have her.' He began to stroll off. 'I'll send another one soon, yes? I bet you enjoy this, Holmes. But they aren't all ridiculously easy.' Hammet practically danced out of the door. 'Enjoy!'

Everyone seemed frozen. Adele looked at Lestrade. 'Well go and get her. You might have forgotten, but we sort of hate each other. John, poke him.'

John gave Lestrade an awkward prod in the back. 'No, like this.' Adele punched Lestrade in the arm. He gasped out in pain. 'Exactly.'

Out of the corner of her eye, Adele could see Sherlock and John exchange grins.

Me again! Um… This took ages… I've had writer's block, so…

No excuses.

So: Review? If that's cool?

Because if you do, Adele gets cola bottles. And Sherlock gets nicotine patches. And John gets to stare at Sherlock in a trance.

Review if you like cookies! If you like awesomeness! Red Pandas! Anything!

Byeeee! :D