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Adam's apartment.
"Once this paper drops, Sheldon's gonna lose sleep over it," Paige said, looking up from her writing with a smirk as Juno mentioned the absent Texas prodigy.
"Yeah, totally," Juno nodded, knowing Sheldon well. "He's still got that kid vibe—hates anyone outshining him, especially you two ganging up on him over and over."
"He might actually step up," Adam chuckled. "Cut back a bit on trains, comics, sci-fi, games, TV… oh, and maybe sleep a tiny bit less. That'd do it."
"Haha!" Paige and Juno cracked up.
Sheldon's routine was ironclad—bed at 9 p.m. sharp, up at 6:15 a.m., over nine hours of sleep nightly. Back when he started college at 11, he was lights-out by 7:30. With all that sleep and his time-sucking hobbies, imagine how much of that genius brain went to waste. Even so, he snagged a PhD at 15, was grinding for his second, and stood neck-and-neck with Paige as the East and West's teen science stars.
That was Sheldon's pride: max achievements, minimal effort, record speed.
Adam, though? Barely slept. Paige, under his influence, had slashed her sleep too. Once their paper hit, Sheldon'd feel the heat. Not happy! Without a female assistant to force him, he might still push himself—trim those hobbies a smidge, and boom, achievements the original timeline never saw. Very likely.
"Assuming he can beat his own homeostasis," Adam teased. "IQ's there—most folks couldn't dream of his wins in a lifetime. But breaking his habits? That's dicey."
"He'll do it," Juno said confidently. "His routines aren't set in stone—he made 'em, so he can change 'em. He just doesn't want to normally. Why? Arrogance.
But you two are chipping away at that. To keep his ego afloat, he'll need bigger, better wins. Changing's inevitable."
Adam and Paige nodded—solid logic. Raj once roasted Sheldon's arrogance as his superpower, nicknaming him "Captain Arrogance." Sheldon didn't deny it—just corrected his villain title to "Dr. Supreme Arrogance."
To those beneath him, his habits were cosmic law—untouchable. Unless an unstoppable force hit. But for people he respected or liked? Habits were negotiable. He'd rock a maid outfit in public if he felt like it.
Emmm. Adam had the camera ready.
Evening rolled around fast.
Over a Thanksgiving feast whipped up by chef extraordinaire Karen, Adam chatted and laughed with the crew. The vibe was perfect. Even quiet Karen chimed in, riffing with Juno about funny stories from Mass General.
Ring ring!
Mid-laughter, Adam's phone buzzed.
"No way!" He shook his head, fishing it out. Not Melendez—phew. He picked up. "Dr. Sloan? Why're you calling me now?"
"Adam, get to the hospital! Help me! Hurry—I need you!" Mark Sloan's voice came through, frantic and desperate.
"What's up? Spill it!" Adam frowned.
After getting the gist, Adam's lip twitched—almost laughed out loud. "Hang tight, I'm on my way. Don't freak—it's not a big deal~"
"What's going on?" Juno asked as he hung up.
"Gotta hit the hospital for a surgery," Adam said, standing with a grin.
"What surgery drags you out now?" Juno blinked. "Didn't you say it's not a big deal?"
"Can't help it," Adam chuckled. "To us, it's nothing. To the patient? Life or death. As for the surgery—your favorite, the one you're best at~"
He cackled and bolted out the door.
"What's your favorite surgery?" Paige asked, curious.
"Heh," Juno caught on quick, shaking her head with a laugh. "He's messing with me!"
Seeing Paige still puzzled, she spilled: back in high school, she'd been into medicine, and Adam caught her geeking out over a classic procedure.
Paige cracked up, speechless.
---
Medical Center
"Thank God, Adam, you're here—help me!"
Adam pushed open the lounge door to find Mark Sloan, shirtless, wrapped in a blanket, face twisted in pain and fear.
"Looks like a fracture—why not call Torres?" Adam said, lifting the blanket for a pro once-over.
"Cut the crap," Mark whimpered, near tears. "You're the best, and I heard you've handled cases like this before… Adam, hurry—any longer and I'm screwed!"
"I'll get the OR ready, or you're looking at permanent damage," Adam said, stepping out to make it happen. Back inside, he asked, straight-faced, "Not Meredith, right?"
"No!" Mark shook his head.
"Heh," Adam smirked, unconvinced. "Can't hide this surgery—everyone'll know after. Not gossiping, just a heads-up. If it is Meredith, get outta here post-op tonight.
Tomorrow, Shepherd hears this, and like everyone else, he'll assume it's her! She's got a rap sheet for breaking certain… parts. And you've got a history of stealing 'em. Can't blame folks for thinking it."
"It's not her!" Mark yelped through the pain.
"Then who?" Adam's brow furrowed. "Not little Grey, is it?"
"No!" Mark knew Adam's rules and wasn't dumb enough to piss him off when he needed him most. "It's Sadie!"
"Ohhh~" Adam relaxed instantly.
Not Lexie—good. Months of training her, kicking her out now would've been a waste. And it's not like he was off-base suspecting a Grey. That name's got some dark magic!
Think about it—Lexie and Meredith never met before, but her first night here, Lexie was flirting up a storm with Adam like they were sisters. Facts proved he wasn't wrong to suspect Meredith either. Not her, not her sis, but her bestie? Still tied to her—case closed!
"You know Meredith calls Sadie 'Death' and Sadie calls Meredith 'Demon'?" Adam teased. "No wrong names, just perfect nicknames. Right now, to you, she's the demon, huh?"
Mark: "…" 😭
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(Chapter End)