Adele didn't do much for the rest of the day. The note in the book was still on her mind, but it was pushed to the back rather than anywhere near the front. The book the note had fallen out of was now sitting under Adele's bed, as though it were cursed. She had picked a new book, determined on taking last night's events off her mind. It sort of worked. The new book certainly required more brainwork, as it was focused on the one subject that Adele was fairly sure she had more knowledge in than Sherlock. The Solar System. It was surprisingly satisfying to have, even if it was just one area of knowledge in which Adele's intelligence passed his. Something to brag about, really. There wasn't much else; he could even pick better sidekicks than her. No, she couldn't think about that. No more yelling.

No one spoke much. Sherlock continued to write, John read various papers with varying degrees of interest and Adele gave up on the book. Instead she watched both Sherlock and John, who appeared to have forgotten even each other's existence. If she got up and left, Adele knew that she would hardly be noticed. Both were absorbed in their own little worlds, oblivious to anyone else. But John would get bored soon enough. There weren't that many newspapers left on the coffee table. So if Adele wanted to get away with something, it was best to do it now. Although there wasn't really much Adele wanted to do. Besides tell Sherlock he was wrong. Which she couldn't, because getting into an argument about something you didn't even want to think about in the first place was a really stupid idea.

No one had noticed the rain. It was August. How could it rain, even in Britain? Another thing to add to the list of stupid things about life. Which, whilst still being a mental list somewhere in Adele's head, was rather long. It included, in no particular order;

Stupid weather,

Stupid people,

Questions with no answers,

Proverbs,

Idioms,

Lists.

Of course, none of these things could be changed or made any less stupid, but it was good to keep a list. Then you could add and take away from it as time went on. Good way of keeping track, if anything. But it was all irrelevant. Adele was irrelevant. In the grand scheme of things, the bigger picture, everyone she knew was irrelevant, Sherlock included. Yes, even Adele would admit he was a genius, but an irrelevant one. Geniuses were everywhere. Some, like Sherlock were aware of it, and quite eager to show off, others oblivious that their methods of thinking could change the world. John, he was irrelevant. A solider, yes. Protecting his country, yes. But one of many. Thousands had been and still were out there, on the front line. John, however lovely, brave and good at his job he may have been, was only one of them. Lestrade, irrelevant. All Lestrade was was another Detective Inspector, another of many. There were loads of people doing the same job as him, some better at it, some worse. But he was just one person employed by someone else. Anderson and Donovan, even less relevant. Just idiots running around, getting paid, going home. Not doing anything specific, not doing anything unique. Nothing to change the world. Just helping out when needed, and sitting around when not. Mycroft. Yes, relevant in the sense that he was practically British government, but, as he had said, he wasn't as high up as others. There were people other than him making laws, and doing whatever else Mycroft actually did. Mrs Hudson, she was just a landlady. Nice and always ready to provide food, but less relevant than anyone else.

Everything was bloody irrelevant. Adele was irrelevant. Very irrelevant.

Well, Hammet didn't seem to think so. Why couldn't he go and annoy someone else? God, this was boring. Adele yawned.

From the ground, she could see two men. One well built, rich, expensive suit. Consulting criminal. A gun, pointed at another. When he appeared to speak, his voice would be soft, but all a show. It could be harsh, but that would be no use now. No. His game was to manipulate. He doesn't need to yell, instead he taunts the other, threatening.

The second man was slim and tall. He stood straight, perfectly poised. He wore a long black coat. As the wind blew, his dark curled was forced in all directions. He brushed a stray piece from his eyes. You couldn't see it from where she was, but his skin was pale, but not out of fear. This wasn't someone who was scared easily. After several minutes of what could only be speech, he stumbled, unsure of himself, of what's going on. Something isn't right, and he knows it. He takes out a phone.

He jumped, or more dove, flailing as he fell through the air. And then-

Adele all but jumped. She must have fallen asleep, but she had no recollection. Someone had left on all the lights, so it had to have been a while. A glance at her watch confirmed Adele's thoughts. It was more than late, rather early, the time standing at two in the morning. Adele was still on the sofa, but someone, most probably John, had thrown a duvet over her. And left the light on. John didn't leave lights on. So someone had switched them on. As Adele got up, she saw a piece of paper fall to the floor, the scribbles on it suspiciously similar to the ones from the note she had found in the book.

If she didn't pick it up, she didn't have to read it. But Adele couldn't exactly ignore it. Instead she compromised, shoving it into her pocket for later. It would be ideal at this point to go back to sleep, but Adele wouldn't be able to. One, all the lights were on. Adele would much rather be tired all day in the light than try to sleep in the dark. Two, once Adele was awake, it was quite hard to sleep again. And three, she didn't fancy watching Sherlock jumping off a roof again. It had been ages since she'd had that dream, and now it was back. Hopefully not for too long.

Adele decided that the best way to entertain herself was not, this time, reading. She instead retrieved some paper and a biro from the corner of the room.

'You should be asleep.'

Adele jumped. Again. This had better not be a regular occurrence, it was incredibly annoying.

'So should you.'

Sherlock shrugged. 'You're thirteen. I'm trying to work something out.'

'So? Being thirteen hasn't stopped you letting me do anything before.'

'I've changed my mind.'

'You never change your mind.'

'I have now.'

'Why?'

Sherlock looked as though he had to deliberate his answer. Adele crossed her arms, trying and most likely failing, to look annoyed. Which she was.

'Because-'

'Because you think I'm stupid?' It was the most obvious answer. He probably did, anyway.

'I don't think you're stupid. I think-'

'You think you're suddenly going to stop me going out and making my own choices for no apparent reason?'

'That's not-'

'Then what is it?!'

'Now you're being childish.'

'You admit it! You do think I'm a child!'

'You are a child! Adele, you're thirteen!'

'Last time I checked, you were telling everyone that I deserved to be treated like an adult!'

'And now I've changed my mind!'

'Well that's not fair!'

'I can change my mind! I'm still your guardian, and you still have to listen to me!'

'Fine.'

Adele hated ending arguments with fine. It was possibly the worst word to use in an argument. Sherlock looked as though he was about to throw something, although he wouldn't. He never would.

'You don't understand, Adele-'

'What do you mean you don't understand?!'

'I mean-'

'You do think I'm stupid! You think I'm too thick to appreciate your thoughts!'

'I think you're irrational and need to start thinking things through before you make decisions which are based on a random idea!

'I'm trying to sleep and you two are being ridiculous.' John had appeared the doorway, hair tussled and looking tired. 'Either pack it in or go and argue somewhere else.'

Adele scowled at John. He had plenty of arguments, and no one ever complained at him. True, it was three in the morning, but Sherlock's violin playing was more loud and annoying than this. And the violin was hardly proving a point, whereas Adele was. Sort of.

'Tell him that I'm not stupid!'

'I didn't say that you were-!'

'Both of you! Do I really have to be the voice of reason all the time?!' Sherlock was acting like a badly behaved child at this point, whistling and tapping his feet restlessly. When neither him nor Adele responded, John continued; 'Thank you. Get along.'

Adele could tell that Sherlock was smirking, but she knew that making eye contact with him would only make her laugh. True, she was trying not to laugh, because John being annoyed was actually quite funny. And the fact that he was trying to discipline Sherlock was actually hilarious. As soon as John had disappeared back into his room, Sherlock and Adele both began to snigger. This continued for several seconds, until both composed themselves enough to be able to face each other again.

'But you should really be asleep.' Trust Sherlock to be serious. Adele shrugged. Should she tell him? It would make him feel guilty, which was something Adele hadn't really done for a while.

'And?'

'Why aren't you?'

'Because.'

Sherlock frowned. 'Can I guess? Because I think I know why.'

'You do that.'

'I think,' He looked at her knowingly, as though he could read her mind. He probably could, but Adele wouldn't admit that. 'I think you've been having bad dreams. Am I right?'

'No.'

'No?'

'You heard me.'

'Then what is it?'

'Something else.'

'Adele. Tell me.'

She gave up. What was the point in lying to him? 'I thought it stopped.' She muttered. 'But it's getting more vivid.'

When Sherlock didn't respond, Adele continued. 'It's nothing. Forget it.'

'It's not.'

'I said forget it.'

'Why?'

'There are more important things to deal with.'

Sherlock grimaced. 'I should be grateful it's not the-' He stopped suddenly. He was going to say the screaming. No. She couldn't and wouldn't think about it. 'You sure you're okay?'

'I'm fine. Go back to scribbling or whatever you were doing earlier.' Sherlock simply shrugged and left, but Adele doubted that would be the last of his questions.

Well, she wouldn't sleep now. Adele picked her book back from the floor. Another four or so hours of reading until she could finally do something else.

So. Um. Hope you liked. Took longer to write. Hope you enjoyed.

REVIEW IF YOU LIKE STUFF. REVIEW IF YOU LIKE JAM. REVIEW IF YOU LIKE KITTENS. REVIEW IF YOU LIKE JAM FLAVOURED KITTENS.

BYE :D