Adele hurled the book into the wall, watching as several pages fell out before the rest, and hit the ground. Unsatisfied, she kicked the fallen mess of paper, ripping several pages and pulling at the spine until the cover fell apart. The floor was now carpeted by that one book. Strangely, Adele felt no remorse, even though she had always taken care that her books stayed at least in one piece. This one was now completely ruined. With a pang of guilt, Adele realised that it was her copy of Smiley's People, the book Sherlock had gotten for her, and all but begged her to finish.

Adele and Eliza had only been forced to sit around for another hour after the spelling game. Without warning, someone had opened the door, forcing the two girls to squint into the bright sunlight. With only a moment's hesitation, they had jumped up and walked out, Eliza practically dragging Adele, who had and still was confused at Hammet's point. But no one had stopped them, and funnily enough, Sherlock was waiting on the same bench Adele had left him on. For a second, he had stared at the pair of them, and then had marched off, indicating that Adele and Eliza should follow. They had dropped Eliza off at her house and after a quick goodbye and an awkward hug, Sherlock had marched Adele back to the flat, tersely telling her to go to bed and not leave her room or go out. But it was only seven in the evening, and Adele couldn't sleep even if she tried.

The flat was full. Through the crack in her bedroom door, Adele could see John, Lestrade, Kaylee, Molly, Mrs Hudson and Sherlock himself sitting in the living room. If she seriously tried to listen, as she had, Adele could hear Sherlock talking to John about kidnapping and all sorts. But Adele had ignored it, and soon enough, Sherlock had gone to sitting down and apparently thinking.

And two and a half hours later, everything was still the same. Adele was restless- Several objects in her room had now been destroyed, and the entire setting was beginning to annoy her in some way. Hammet was still on her mind; specifically, how he was taking people. He had told Adele that he had Eliza at the same time as giving her the riddle, which was at least a day and a half before he actually had taken her. It made no sense. Why would he do that? Surely, Hammet, being Hammet, would either just take Eliza when he said he had, or would save the effort of lying.

Nothing made sense.

Adele had opened the window, trying to make the room more comfortable, but it only made everything cold. It felt just as, if not even more claustrophobic though. There wasn't much to do in Adele's room. Adele was too jumpy to read for more than five minutes, and her laptop was in the living room. The solution to the riddle had still been on the wall, but Adele had unearthed some large pieces of paper from under her bed, had sketched a couple of dragons onto them, and had pinned them over the wall with the riddle on it. It was still annoying. Adele only hadn't ripped them down because if she saw the riddle again, she would probably explode.

That was it. Adele needed to get out. Well, part of it was that she had been told to stay in.

Adele quickly peeped around the door, pleased to see that everyone in the living room was distracted. Quietly as she could, Adele edged the window open slightly further. She managed to scramble out, and sat half on the outside window sill, half still inside. Adele frowned, looking down at the street. It wasn't that far, not compared to the roof of Bart's. It couldn't possibly be too difficult to get down, really. It was a bit late to go back, anyhow. There would be some element of defeat if she didn't climb down.

That settled it, really.

Adele could reach to pipe, and the wall had some convenient ledges. All it would really take was balance. Tentatively, she slid off the window sill, managing to scramble down, trying desperately not to make any noise. Adele gasped as her foot slipped, hoping that no one could hear. If it started raining, sit would be almost impossible to get all the way down. Adele managed to get near enough to the street to jump, but stumbled as she landed, swearing loudly. Maybe sneaking out wasn't really her thing.

Now what to do?

Adele knew London. It wasn't difficult to find your way around. It was only about nine thirty, so really, it wasn't even late. She set off walking, deliberately going in the opposite direction from any major landmarks. There were a couple of people still out, but nobody noticed her.

Adele wasn't sure of how long she walked for. Through a couple of side streets, across a couple of busy roads. She started down yet another smaller, unoccupied road when she became vaguely aware she might be being followed. She spun around a couple of times, but there was no one there. She could have sworn that she saw a flash of blonde hair, but she shook her head. She was getting paranoid.

Without warning, Adele felt a hand on her shoulder. Out of instinct, she turned quickly, intending to hit whoever it was, but almost stumbled backward when she realised who she was accompanied by.

The blonde boy.

Adele didn't have time to fight back as he slammed her against the wall and onto the ground. She sat there for a second, before remembering that her penknife would be in her pocket. It wouldn't help though. Once again, Adele was stuck in another situation in which she would come out far worse.

She moved to pull herself up, and then to her astonishment saw a hand offered to her. She looked up to see the boy smiling down at her as if they were old friends. For once, she managed to listen to the little voice in her head, and ignored the hand. Her back felt slightly bruised, but other than that, it was less painful than the last time. The look on the boy's face however, rendered it slightly more unnerving. She steadied herself, studying him for a moment, then threw out a punch with her right hand. The boy laughed lightly as her fist sailed past his head, and then shoved her to the ground. Adele caught her breath. He was still laughing. She could just run. Although that probably wouldn't go very well. The boy was bigger, and most certainly stronger than her, so fighting back would only make it worse. But she couldn't just let herself be beaten up. That was ridiculous.

Again, she got up, but made no effort to move. She faced the boy neither of them speaking or moving. He smirked.

'It's odd.' He said suddenly.

This caught her off guard.

'What is?'

In her moment of confusion, he shoved her shoulders, and she hit the wall. As she stumbled, he spoke.

'This… fascination, he has with you.'

Adele glowered. Whatever 'fascination' Hammet had, it was stupid, and it wasn't going to dictate her life. She threw another punch. He grabbed her wrist and nudged at her chin with his other hand, forcing her to look at him. He frowned.

'As far as I can see, you're not so special. Although.' He shrugged. 'What do I know?'

'Nothing.' Adele said quietly.

'Excuse me?'

Adele kneed the only place she was sure would hurt. Stupid of him to put her in that position really. As he staggered backward, she made a break for it. At the end of the alley, she swayed. And was once more propelled into the wall. The boy was laughing again. By now, her vision was blurring. She kicked out at him, and he spun her round and hooked an arm around her neck. She struggled, but to no avail.

'You know, they said I couldn't kill you.'

Adele raised an eyebrow. Since when was that painful? She hadn't hit her head, had she? She ignored it. Now was really not the time to argue with herself. Gasping, she dug her fingernails into his arm, moving her head to bite. But he had already grabbed her wrist and was swinging her round with apparent ease. Her back hit hard against the wall and an arrow of pain shot through her.

'Shit, they said I couldn't even break you.' The blonde boy was saying. He grasped her collar and slammed her flat against the brick.

'But look!' He said, smiling as if he were talking to a five year old. 'You won't be broken! Just bruised.' He paused, and screwed up his face thoughtfully, then added '…And minorly concussed.'

Adele spat in his face, and he turned away. When he turned back, his face bore a horrifying grin. Again, the little voice took control and Adele screamed. The boy looked suddenly panicked, and slammed his hand over her mouth. Adele seemed to lose her breath, rendering screaming impossible. She concentrated on hyper-ventilating.

'Bad move.' The boy said.

And then his fingers pressed down on the thin scar on her wrist. She cried out in pain. The world was hazy, in part from the tears that had somehow worked their way into her eyes, but mostly from the pain. She had never felt this weak, not since… This was it. This was what it had felt like. This and a thousand times worse. But this pain would pass. It had to. Unless it ended with what all things do.

And then in the middle of the horrible cocktail of pain, fear, and misery, came a shout. Adele tried to follow it with her head, but it wouldn't move the way she wanted it to. Suddenly, the boy's hands were pulled from her, and she collapsed onto the ground. The shouts continued, and through her haze of tears Adele saw a tall male figure with dark hair tackling the boy's fair one.

Sherlock.

How had he known? Her mind shot that down immediately. Of course he had known. He was Sherlock. He always knew. Sherlock was going to save her. The pain would pass. It would. It would. It had to.

Just before she lost consciousness, Adele heard a voice call her name. And suddenly she wasn't so calm. The voice was unfamiliar. And more importantly…

It wasn't Sherlock's.

Hello again! Good to see you. Now, a few things:

One, IngridNixie wrote most of this because she is amazing, and you should look her up because;

Two! She's writing a companion fic which is important because;

Three! THEY SHALL COLLIDE.

As per usual, please review if you liked this, because it makes me happy. Second, I love you all sososososo much and this fic won't be finishing for ages yet. I'm taking an extended break to help write IngridNixie's companion fic, and when I return, you will all rejoice and stuff. Or not.

This is why I am supposedly an arrogant pessimist.

Don't worry, this account won't be completely silent. I'm thinking of starting a one shot thing and stuff, so you'll see plenty of me. Now, head over to IngridNixie, where the fun begins [Once we stop procrastinating]!